“Therefore, when He had risen from the dead, His disciples remembered that He had said this to them; and they believed the Scripture and the word which Jesus had said.” – John 2:22

We had been gone for several days.  I had been to a personal speaking engagement in West Texas.  My father had travelled with me, and we had taken the opportunity to visit several of our family members who all lived in the general part of the state.  It was time to return home, and I was anxious to see my wife and children.  We rose early, left our hotel, and hit the road.  We stopped at a roadside diner for some breakfast.  We ate our order, determined it was adequate, and then returned to the road.  As we pointed east, it was still a little before sunrise.  My father heavily suggested that we take some of the “back-roads” to avoid the interstate highways.  So, we did. 

We had not travelled far when my father interrupted the news on the radio to get my attention.  He was looking through the window as he spoke.  Over the years, his eyesight had been diminished by macular degeneration.  So, there were real vacancies in what he could see, and yet I am sure he saw more than I did.  After a pause, he somewhat rhetorically said, “Isn’t that beautiful?”  I looked across the vast vista of the Texas landscape, captured in early morning light.  There were gnarled Mesquite trees, some sporadic wild grass, and a lot of rugged land.  Remember, I was anxious to get home.  It didn’t look all beautiful or attractive to me.  He didn’t turn his head from the window.  I put my eyes back on the road, checked our speed, listened to the news, and thought of getting home.

Many years earlier, in my junior year of high school, I took a class in Trigonometry.  I thought I was a math genius.  Most math had come to me with minimal effort.  The teacher of the class was Mr. Harrison.  He was an interesting man, and a pretty good teacher.  He seemed to really understand the math.  I learned that some of those Trigonometry problems were lengthy and complex.  There were problems that took a full page of equations to arrive at a final solution.  It was tedious, and time consuming.  Once in while Mr. Harrison would stop at my desk, look at my work, and point to some error I had made in my calculations.  He noted the were points at which I had used the wrong formula.  I would sometimes point to my final solution being correct.  He would agree, and then tell me that solving the problem was more than just getting the right answer.  At the time, I thought he was just making me do a lot of extra work.

A couple of years later, in college, an English Composition teacher would press on me the importance of getting the words and grammar in their proper order.  He taught that making an image clear when you are writing is more than just the general idea of making a point.  It relies on the use of words to paint an understandable and accurate picture in the mind of the reader. Again, the importance of another message slipped past me.

Could it be that life is often no more than achieving certain goals?  Some goals may be large, while others are quite small.  Maybe we need some reminders of the journey’s value toward reaching those goals. 

It took me a while to realize that simply reaching a perceived goal is not the full picture of life. 

Mr. Harrison helped me learn that getting to the correct final answer is not the greatest benefit of math.  All the figuring and computation to get to the solution is as much value, if not more than the final answer. 

The English composition teacher helped me understand that it is not just having the right words to complete the thought.  Effectively communicating the full and accurate picture of your thoughts to another person demands careful, creative, and organized expression.  Proper grammar is a must.

More than any of these other mentioned lessons, my father taught me something of life’s beauty.  We often hear the old adage, “Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.”  It definitely is.  As he looked to the rugged and almost barren countryside, my father could see his own journey of life.  There, about us, was the vista of his childhood and youth.  Images of history were alive in his mind.  It really was not the beauty of the landscape, but the value of the life that was drawn from where he had been.  At the time, it was to me simply a passthrough on my way to a destination. 

So, my perception changed.  Remember, there is something to learn in these events.  My heart has changed with my perception.  The beauty of learning is in the journey that gets you to the destination.

We owe a debt of gratitude to those teachers who challenged us to go the extra mile in understanding the working toward the completion of the present assignment.  We owe an even greater debt to those parents who shared the beauty of their journeys that brought them to where they are. 

For me, I cannot see that landscape of my father’s youth without appreciation for the beauty of the man he became.  Perhaps we can share with our own children, and they will ultimately  gain some of the same value of the journey that comes long before the final destination.

Russell L. Dyer – 4/24/2024

“He being dead still speaks”. – Hebrews 11:4

As parents, we may often wonder if our children are really hearing us.  As children we cringe and disparage challengingly corrective words which seem too harsh.  Then there comes that day in which the children become the parents.  Words that were sworn to never be used toward the next generation become the words of choice.  Really, choice may not be the most accurate description.  Those words seem to simply well up from some previously hidden place, and with very little thought attached to them.  It can be shocking.  Hearing the detested words of parents flowing from your own lips can be thought provoking.  Maybe there is then a new understanding of circumstances.  More, it may be that there is an embedded voice that we hear.  There is a truth in life.  The words and influence of those powerful examples in our lives often speak to us and through us, even though those parents and others may be long departed.  Fortunately, it is not just the words that were thought to never be expressed.  It may just as well be the words of love, courage, and wisdom.

There is the Old Testament story of the day before King Saul died.  He was in turmoil, and needed something that he did not find in the people around him.  He longed to hear the words of his old mentor and advisor, Samuel.  Years before that day Saul had rejected the instructions from Samuel.  In his hour of trial, the longing to hear the old prophet called to him.  It didn’t matter that Samuel had been dead for some time.  The strength of the past relationship called upon what he had seen and heard, regardless of how he had considered it in the past.  As unpleasant as it was, it was what Saul wanted and maybe needed.

Typically, we strive to weave our own unique paths through this life.  If we are honest with ourselves, we have to recognize that we have not walked an untread path.  There were others who walked before us.  As the faithful people of the past are described, the writer of Hebrews refers to the life and righteousness of Abel.  Though we know little of his life, and mostly remember that he was killed by his brother, it is his devotion to a righteous life that continues to speak.  Dead for thousands of years, his voice is still heard. 

In all civilized societies, and maybe even in those that are not so civilized, we hold tightly to the words of those who have walked the path before us.  In this country, we often quote our heroes.  Whether it is the well placed words of Thomas Jefferson, the challenging words of Patrick Henry, the final words of Nathan Hale, or the common statements of many others, we are reminded of our origins and the sacrificial work it took to establish this nation.  Perhaps no one in our history has been more quoted than Abraham Lincoln.  In such a way, he still speaks.  There have been many who have shared their insights of the growing pains of strife that have helped get us to where we are.  Their shared words of every cause have made a memorable mark.  It may be that few of those speakers were thinking of the lasting value of their words.  Still, their words expressed something of their personal visions as they looked well beyond their own times.  As Katharine Lee Bates shared, “O beautiful for patriot dream that sees beyond the years.”

Here is the reality.  There are special people who though they are long dead, still speak.  They speak because we remember.  One of the great values we can hold in our lives is the ability to draw upon the voices of those who are long gone.  Perhaps we ask, “What would Mom, Dad, or someone else say about these things.  Even if we don’t ask, the voice can still be heard. 

It is a blessing to be able to say, “I sill hear you.”

Russell L. Dyer – 4/16/2024

The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. – John 3:8

Maybe age has something to do with it.  There just seem to be so many things that I think I will not fully understand about this world.  Perhaps, you too wonder why things in the nature of the world are just as they are.

I stepped through the doorway and onto the covered patio at the rear of our house.  As usual there was a pretty good breeze blowing.  The sun was shining.  It appeared to be a pretty decent day.  Then a sound caught my attention.  It sounded like sporadic rain was hitting the roof of the patio.  The roof is covered with those translucent panels.  The sound of any rain on those panels seems to be magnified when standing beneath them.  Anyway, I paused to listen and wonder how it could be raining on a sunny day.  Within a couple of moments, I realized that it was not the sound of rain I was hearing.  It was one of clever wonders of springtime nature. 

Across the street from my front door, in my neighbor’s yard, there are two Maple trees.  Every spring, those trees burst forth with an abundance of seeds.  It was those seeds, being blown across my patio cover, mimicking the sound of rain, that caught my attention.  The unique seeds of Maple trees have a design that are made for the springtime winds in the area.  As children, my friends and I loved them.  My father even taught me how to make some fun noises with them.  We called them helicopters.  The seed is on one end and a broad blade constitutes the rest of its body.  Whether caught in the strong March winds, or simply floating on a minimal breeze, the spinning effect is much like the whirling blades of a multitude of helicopters.  Those seeds land on any happenstance place.  Lawns are dotted.  Cars are masked.  Sidewalks are carpeted.  Rains wash many of them into storm sewers.  Many of them are left in places in which they cannot grow, but there they turn into the natural habitat for some other plants to grow.  If all goes well, some of those spinning seeds make their way into just the right place, and a new Maple tree begins its long life.

So, back to the sound coming from the patio cover.  As stated, it wasn’t the sound of rain.  It was that clever wonder of springtime nature.  Through the translucence of the overhead patio cover I could see the shape of those “helicopter” seeds.  I stood for a moment as I wondered at the sound.  Then I pondered at the journey.  How could so many of those seeds make it so far from the trees, rise over the house, to finally land above my head.  Then, even as my mind wandered a brief breeze stirred many of those fluttering seeds, drawing them into flight again.  Amazed, I marveled at the wonder of these precious opportunities of the future.  The question arose, “How can these things come to be?”  As my mind often does, I thought of a song.  It was Bob Dylan’s song “Blowin’ in the Wind”.  The words registered.  “The answer my friend is blowin’ in the wind.  The answer is blowin’ in the wind.”  But what does that lead me to understand?

Simply, there is within each seed a nature that is emboldened in the wind.  It was brought to be with purpose and power.  Like the helicopter seed, the wind has design and reason.  As the wind blows, we cannot see it.  Still, we feel it and even see what it does.  Its force is there.  We c sanee the results of it.

There are those who will give some scientific, or meteorological explanation to the wind.  They may have something.  I think I would choose to be like the seeds.  The seeds simply live within the vibrant life it shares with the wind.  It may be that we will complain at the mess, or pause to be amazed at the windy show.  Whatever the case, we cannot avoid the view of the future, and of what is truly seen when it is “blowin’ in the wind.” So, the next time the “helicopters” are flying, look to the design and the future it brings. God knows what He is doing.

Russell L. Dyer – 4/7/2024