Blog Archives

I Got a Bad Feeling About This

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Yesterday I had a scheduled meeting with a man at his residence. I hadn’t been to the area he lived at before and when I saw his mailbox I noticed his driveway was long and winding, deep into the woods. It was eery as I slowly made my way and then I saw his house, surrounded by dense brush and trees on all sides. The front door faced the woods and I had an uneasy feeling. I got out of the truck and slowly looked around. I wasn’t sure it was the right place until a door to the house opened and he came outside. The man had an odd way of speaking and walking. He invited me into his home but said he needed to tell his mother to put the dogs outside. He spoke to someone on the other side of the door and I told him I would wait until it was taken care of. He came back a few moments later and the dogs were no longer inside. I never saw his mom. The entire time I was in the house I never heard her moving around. Making my way inside the man began to tell me about his collection of chairs. “It’s a wonderful collection of office chairs and recliners!” It was then all the pieces fell into place. An odd man, an invisible mother, a strange collection, alone, in an isolated location? I was in a Law & Order episode!
 
After looking at the chairs in the living room he took me to the kitchen and showed me more of his collection. “This one is my favorite,’ he said, ‘it’s heavy and so comfortable.” Picking up the chair he let out a small grunt and then asked me to lift it up. Feeling this was all wrong I stepped to the chair, lifted it up and put it down quickly saying; “Yes, that is heavy.” Then he said, in a flat tone; “Sit in it. You’ll die.” My heart began to race and the anxiety which had been growing in me exploded. I sat down fast, stood up and said; “Yes, soft.” He looked at me and asked if I would go to another room to see more of his chairs and that was it. “Nope! I exclaimed, I have another appointment and need to go!” We said our goodbyes as I made my way outside and didn’t stop moving until I got back into the truck and locked the doors.
 
The strange this is I don’t think the guy was a serial killer. I think his mannerisms were not what I was used to and this set me on a suspicious, weary, possibly paranoid(?) path. I called a friend on the way back into town and told them the story. They said I was lucky to get out of there alive!
 
As I look back on it today I don’t know what happened yesterday but I do know that we act like those with whom grew up. As adults, we are mirrors of the house we spent our formative years in, reflections of the environment in which we were immersed. This gentleman was, most likely, not dangerous, and the incident was a good reminder not to judge others quickly but to also be aware of your surroundings, your judgments, and adapt accordingly.
 
blessings,
@BrianLoging
thewannabesaint.com
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The Sound of Silence

The Sound of Silence

A faint cry led a sheriff’s deputy to a pile of sticks and debris in the woods of western Montana. There, the deputy, part of a search-and-rescue team, discovered a 5-month-old infant buried face down, but still alive. “It was just a whimper,” Deputy Ross Jessop said, describing the sound he heard. (Full Story> https://www.nytimes.com/2018/07/10/us/baby-buried-alive-montana.html)

An incredibly scary story with an almost unthinkable happy ending. A man committing a crime most of us could not conceive; leaving a baby for dead, face down under a pile of debris in the middle of the woods. A frantic search, pits in the stomachs of the rescuers unsure of what they’d find but certain it wouldn’t be good. The ears of a deputy surrounded by the noise of crickets, trees blowing in the wind, other searchers, his own pounding heartbeat, his inhale and exhale as he worked his area, hoping, praying for a sign or sound. Then, in spite of all the obstacles, overcoming the improbable, ears pick up the faintest of cry. It couldn’t be, the odds of stumbling upon the innocent, helpless victim, almost too high to count. He stopped, held his breath, waited, and heard it again. Stumbling to the focal point of the noise, under limbs and leaves was the tiny baby, clinging to life. However, now it was not alone. There was love, kindness, protection and a hero who would not leave the baby to die but give it everything it needed to live.

I read this story and couldn’t believe the fortune of the deputy and the baby. I reflected on how much noise our world forces in our ears each day. There are miracles and needs all around us but we don’t hear them calling out because everything distracts us and drowns them out. To be still enough to listen, to hear what’s important, to tune out all the rest is the beginning of wisdom and discovery.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

In Memory of

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In Memory of

This is a strange holiday for me. It’s not strange in the sense that I don’t understand it or think it necessary but strange because I did not serve in the armed services nor lost a loved one while in military service. I don’t know what it’s like to charge up a hill with my unit, share foxholes with people who I depend on for my life, find the courage to carry out orders that put my life and others in danger and know not everyone is coming back from the mission. I don’t know what it is to get a knock on my door, a phone call, by servicemen or women to inform me a loved is not returning home. I can’t imagine the pain, heartache, loss, or pride that comes with Memorial Day.

I once served on a staff with a war veteran and we liked to talk politics, history, and war. He had seen action in the military while I sat in the safety of a university classroom. We’d have conversations about the justifications of war. I’d voice my opinion that Christians should follow Jesus’ example and be pacifists, opposed to all violence and then he’d tell me when and why I was wrong. I didn’t agree with everything he said about the military, nation-building, and protection but I was also humbled and silent as he spoke. I understood that he had served, put his life on the line for us to disagree and still be friends, still call ourselves by the same name; Americans.

“The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”
#AbrahamLincoln #GettysburgAdress

Blessings & Thank you,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

Soul Alive

Soul Alive

Outside, under our two sheds and front porch are families of rabbits. I see them when I let out the dog, who’s too old to chase them anymore, when I drive the truck into the driveway, when I sit still long enough and wait for them to emerge from their hiding holes. It excites me. Wildlife has always had this impact on me. I slow down to look at deer on the sides of the highway or in far-off fields. Stare at Falcons and Hawks perched on fence posts or electric poles. Turkeys, skunks, opossum, armadillos, foxes, even cows grab my attention.

I grew up in the suburbs but my parents took us to National Parks as often as the could. We loved camping, canoeing, hiking, exploring. We saw lots of wildlife and even had a few run-ins with Black Bears. I believe this is where my love of nature was born and raised along with the important lessons of treating it gently, basking in its beauty and always leaving a place better than you found it.

Nature, along with other gifts we take for granted each day, bring life to my soul. I can’t imagine not being excited, filled with joy, while experiencing it.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

 

How Could He?

How Could He?

Here is Tennessee and even across America, there is a question that is on many people’s mind; “Why did the father of a five-year-old Autistic boy beat his son to death and then hide his body? How could this father then claim the boy had wandered off and allowed law enforcement officials, volunteers, and others to search areas near his home for three days thinking the boy was alive?” (http://fox17.com/news/local/dad-beat-son-joe-clyde-daniels-to-death-hid-his-body-in-remote-area-affidavit) Its horrible, vile, evil, confusing, and no matter the answers they will not satisfy a grieving family and community.

The next two days I will be training to be a trainer in Adverse Childhood Experiences. According to “SAMSHA (Substance Abuse Mental Health Agency) describes “Adverse childhood experiences or (ACEs)” as stressful or traumatic events, including abuse and neglect. They may also include household dysfunction such as witnessing domestic violence or growing up with family members who have substance use disorders. ACEs are strongly related to the development and prevalence of a wide range of health problems throughout a person’s lifespan, including those associated with substance misuse. ACEs include: Physical abuse, Sexual abuse, Emotional abuse, Physical neglect, Emotional neglect, Intimate partner violence, Mother treated violently, Substance misuse within a household, Household mental illness, Parental separation or divorce, Incarcerated household member.”(https://www.samhsa.gov/capt/practicing-effective-prevention/prevention-behavioral-health/adverse-childhood-experiences)

Put simply; what happens to one when growing up impacts that individual’s behavior, physical and mental health as adults. It changes the question from; “Why or How could you?’ to ‘What happened to you?” The difference is all the difference. It allows for context and the ability to understand, not approve, why a person would do something incredibly harmful to others or to themselves by researching their backgrounds, cultural, community, familial and social environments.

It will be a challenging and difficult two days especially in light of the tragedy that unfolded over the past week. However, only when our emotional and intellectual biases are confronted can we move beyond them to greater wisdom and knowledge.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

Temporary

Temporary

The sun, which shone so brightly the last couple of days filling my spirit and mind with images of spring, is gone today, replaced by gray, gloomy clouds. My wife’s flu bug which bit her last week seems to have been squished and she’s on the mend. The weekend is winding down and soon a new week will start.

I commented to a friend today about a photograph taken about 4 years ago that; “sometimes it seems long ago and other times yesterday.” I think that’s life. When younger I was told; “time moves faster as you get older.” It didn’t make sense to me then but now, on the other side of the hill (midlife), it’s a boulder rolling faster and faster.

The present moment, where we long to continuously dwell, is the one place that brings thankfulness, humility, and acceptance. We are thankful because we are only “grass that whithers, blows away, and its place remembers it no more.” Every moment is precious, even the ones we’d rather not experience. We are humbled by the brevity of ourselves and the things around us. Nothing is permanent which we can touch, see, feel, hear, or taste. “All things are passing away.” By accepting this truth we can choose to consciously, deliberately, live leaving nothing unfinished, and embrace this flash of light we call being alive.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

Home

Image result for new home

Home

My friend, role-model, and father passed away early this morning a little after midnight. His fight was over and he was ready. He sat up one last time as if to say, “It’s my time. I’m coming home.

The house seemed empty today when we returned from all the breathless running around one does after a loved one takes their final breath. Even though he hasn’t been home in a few weeks it seemed he had just left the house. Keys, hats, computers, movies, his chair all still in their proper place. It seems this is still his house, his home. But…it’s not. Sure, there are memories and experiences. A lifetime of highs and lows to relive for the rest of our time on this shadow side of eternity but he has moved and left a forwarding address.

I sit in the quietude with his presence still lingering. I think about all of the rough days he’s had over the last 8 months, the noises of the machines which were keeping him alive. After we received the phone call we drove over to the hospice house to say our; “Goodbyes.” The room was so still. No beeping, whirring, pumping, dripping, nurses checking in. It was motionless and the silence was deafening. My mother began to fill the atmosphere with soft cries, and soft words to her best friend and lover of the last 40 years. My brother and I standing in the background, witnesses to a heart affair which is rare in this world. Finally, after a few more kisses from her on his hands and cheek, we left all thankful we’d never see that room again and that he had moved on to his permanent address.

And now, we are left to carry on. To occupy a house which isn’t home without him. To learn to adjust to a new normal we didn’t choose. To loosen our grip on this world, this place, because we know home is waiting for us on the other side.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

Turning Loose

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Turning Loose

Last weekend Beth and I took a trip to see some family in another state. When we left the yard seemed green, the bushes and trees covered with leaves and even a few blossoms dotting the yard. However, when we returned after only a few days things looked very different. The yard had begun to turn brown, the blossoms were gone and the bushes and trees had brown leaves which had begun to fall. In the last week, most of the yard contains the leaves that until recently were holding on. The clocks were turned back last weekend and it seems fall has finally settled in and winter is not far behind.

I don’t like the end of summer. The bright days growing shorter, the green trees and bushes getting bare, the colors becoming a muted brown. However, I also know it is the cycle of life. What is alive and flourishing will diminish and die. The long winter nights remind us of the journey each of us will make at the end of our lives to the other side. There will come a time for all of us when must turn loose of the lives we have and accept the passing of time.

I have spoken this week with a young woman who is getting married next Saturday. She has two young children and loves these symbols of spring and new life. I also connected with someone who is faced with the reality of how quickly life passes.

The cycle of life is ever-moving. We don’t know where we are in the circle but we do know it’s movement, fast or slow, never stops.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

Disapointment

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Disappointment

A friend contacted me with some disappointing news today. Nothing life changing but something I wanted to happen but didn’t.

It’s hard not to take disappointment personally, even when it isn’t meant to be. Disappointment has a way of worming itself down into our souls and whisper words of discouragement.

There’s nothing wrong with being disappointed when you have wanted something to, or not to, happen but its imperative that you don’t stay too long. Being in the dark place of disappointment can lead to despair.  De·spair dəˈsper/ noun 1. the complete loss or absence of hope. This is where we don’t want to be led by disappointment and discouragement.

It’s okay to be down for a while but sooner rather than later you must let go of both the thing you wanted and the discouragement of not attaining it. This is often much easier said, written, than doing but allowing the spirit to settle, the voices of disappointment to silence, and the realization that you are alive, on the path and disappointments, like everything else, fade when you live presently.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

The Beauty Within

The Beauty Within

Outward beauty is always fading. Whether it be a person, a flower, an animal, a planet or a solar system, all is in flux and degrading. Nothing stays beautiful on the outside forever.

Unfortunately, we are surrounded and bombarded with messages that tell us outward beauty is the goal. Personal attractiveness, luxurious homes, sleek, stylish cars & hairstyles, anything and everything down to how we prepare our food can and should be a masterpiece.

To see inward beauty, the innate goodness in a person or a thing takes time and practice. It is a difficult discipline, as is most of wisdom’s teachings. It is a way of knowing and perceiving that an object, alive or inanimate, is beautiful because of what it is, not what it looks like. It doesn’t ignore outward beauty but realizes this is a passing observance. It seeks a vision that discovers the inward and lasting quality of that which it is beholding.

To see the real not the surreal, the true not the fleeting, the inward beauty that is each present moment and dismiss the shiny, glossed over, trinkets the world proclaims as treasure is to have life, abundantly.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

Lack of Information

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Lack of Information

The last few weeks I have been dealing with a situation of which I have a limited amount of information. In fact, I’ve had enough information to make one decision or another without knowing how it’s going to work out in the end. It’s a difficult place to be and an even harder place to stay and find peace. It’s nothing life threatening though it could have life-altering consequences.

Situations such as this one can be the source of stress, ruminations and endless supplies of; “What ifs…?” However, I have found myself embracing the moment and repeating a wisdom quote; “If this happens you’re still breathing, still alive, still on the journey of your life. If that happens…same.

It reminds me of the proverb;

“When confused; chop wood, eat your dinner, sleep.
When enlightened; chop wood, eat your dinner, sleep.”

It’s hard to be in those places of uncertainty as we walk along the path but sometimes it cannot be avoided. So, I place one foot in front of the other and know sooner or later the way will become clear.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

Spill

Image result for cup of bran flakes

Spill –

This morning I had an early appointment so fixed my breakfast to go. I like cereal but not milk so I put some bran flakes in a cup, mixed in raisins and was ready. I even put a top on the cup of cereal so I wouldn’t spill it. I hopped in the truck and was on my way. When I made it to the highway and would be going straight without turning, I popped open the tabs on my coffee cup and drank and reached down, carefully took the lid off the cereal and then lifted it up to begin munching on my homemade raisin bran. As I did I caught the top of the cup on the lip of the cover of the console between the seats. Before I knew it the cup had been knocked out of my hand, landed side ways between the seats, spilling the cereal underneath my seat. There was barely any left to eat. Sigh. So much for breakfast.

As I continued driving to my appointment the growl in my stomach was ferocious but didn’t have time to stop and grab a bite anywhere. I drank my coffee which helped and by the time I arrived at my location I had nearly forgotten the mess of the spilled cereal.

Life is about learning to let go of things we care about. It’s about dealing with and accepting that even those things which we take great care of are still, one day or moment, going to slip through our fingers. It’s not a matter of “if” but “when.”

The question becomes; “Can we let go when the time comes? Are we able to continue to travel the path even with grief and loss? Do we understand that losing control, our grip, on the things we treasure is part of the necessary experiences that allow us to fully be and feel alive?

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

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