Believing is Seeing

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Most of my friends are of other Faiths, and most of my coworkers, since they are scientists, are men of measurements. Consequently, they find it odd, archaic, and foolish that I believe in God and try to live according to His commandments. Having read earlier this month a list of the top 10 Christmas movies, I persuaded my parents to watch The Santa Clause. I know that my pagan and agnostic friends tolerate Christmas because of the gifts or because we "coopted" their solstace, but Santa is a great ensign for and symbol of Christ. I know that most of the people I know no longer believe in miracles, in magic, in God, in faith, and in hope. Sure, they believe in "the think system" and "the power of positive thinking", but all too often they don't believe it until and unless they see it work. Well, that's not faith or belief; when you see a thing, you know it. I have never seen Santa, but I have seen what He does. I have spent a great portion of my life acting on and exemplifying God's will in order to be part of His miracles. I have seen magical things happen, mostly for others, and I know that something, someone else made this happen. I believe in Santa. I believe in Christ.

Kids don't need to see the workshop to know it's there. Far too many adults, particularly scientists, insist on seeing something in order to believe in it, which is funny since there are things we can't actually see like quarks and black holes, but we know they exist because we feel and see their influence. Those same people who can't see their own brains, their own DNA, etc., see God's influence and then either explain it away or unjustly ascribe it to something else. Have you ever seen a reindeer fly? Have you ever actually been to China? How do you know these things? Because people you trust told you that they are so. I have never seen God, but I have seen things He promise happen. I have spoken with people I trust and read the testimonies of men I trust who are long dead who went to their graves believing in God, and so I believe it. I don't have to meet a prophet or see a miracle or touch the wounds in Christ's palms to know that He exists. I feel it. I believe in God as I believe in the noonday sun- not that I see it but that by it I see everything. I know it's hard to believe in magic, in miracles, in a God. I keep wondering when, or if, He will decide to grant me the desires of my heart. I hope He still will, but if not, that will not lead me to dismiss God. Unlike Judge Reinhold, I'm not willing to surrender that over something as tawdry as a wienie whistle. It is actually childish to dismiss God when He doesn't do what you like.

Careful attention to the fine print tells us the terms and conditions of faith. Tim Allen is obligated to act in the capacity of Santa Claus when he puts on the suit, and in subsequent installments he spends time meeting the other terms. However, there is a reward for this effort, and as the movie proceeds, he gains much in return for his sacrifices. He gains insight into the lives of other people and knows who is "naughty or nice"; similarly, we gain an ability by following and learning about God to discern between wise and otherwise, truth and error, and pain and joy. He spends his time bringing joy to children, in particular his own. Likewise, God gets great joy from blessing and bringing good things to His children. Tim brings ZERO coal. He only brings good things. Finally, TIm gets to spend his entire life without worrying about the normal cares of mortality, working instead to bring joy to other people. He doesn't have to worry about a job, healthcare, food (since children all feed him at their houses), fireplaces (since he has a fireproof suit), or injury (after Comet gives him a safety rope). He who loses his life for God's sake truly shall find it. I will confess that, like Tim Allen, sometimes I don't notice or understand the terms, and sometimes i'm not very good at meeting them. I feel pressed to meet them, overwhelmed at times by what God expects, and disappointed when I don't see what He promises the obedient, particularly when the wicked luxuriate, but that doesn't release me from my obligation. I put on this suit, and I will do my best to bring honour to Christ's name and trust that He will keep His end of the contract too.

Santa's mission is to make magic happen during what was once the least hospitable time of year for the Christian world- winter. Millions of children are counting on Santa to bring good things into their lives. Yes, the characters found reason to disbelieve in Santa Claus as they grew older, grew disappointed, and didn't get what they demanded. Similarly, many adults lose faith in God as they grow older, get disappointed when God fails to follow their commandments even while they flagrantly defy His. His first year, there is a girl concerned with his looks but who pays attention to what he says and provides milk for the lactose intolerant so that Santa will want to return. After they arrest Tim Allen for B&E at his exwife's house, kids are totally apoplectic that Santa has been arrested. At the park, children line up to talk to him. Everywhere he goes, he thinks about the things he can do for others. He's only concerned about making children, particularly his son, happy. I have seen some miracles; they may not seem large to you, but some of them are huge to me. Over six years ago, He freed me from my ex wife. He didn't transform my staff into a snake, cause flaming hail to fall from the sky or plague her house with frogs, but He did inspire my attorney to give me advice, provided the money to pay her off, and made sure my path was clear afterwards to head to a land of promise. I must still be in Sinai, but even there, He has fed me and watered me and provided for me. Yeah, I'm not rich, and I'm not even dating anyone or aware of anyone I'm even interested in dating, but I am free, and I have hope for a better future. Yes, I have been disappointed, but that's because of OTHER PEOPLE who decided to do what they felt was best for them. God doesn't mess with free will, and so the only things I lack I either don't care to obtain or depend on other people exercising their agency. That's not on Santa or God; it's on bosses who won't promote me, agencies who won't hire me, women who won't partner with me, neighbors who won't cooperate with me, and people who have no interest in making my lie easier. All too often, we miss miracles because we expect something big. Judge Reinholdt threw away his faith in Santa for a wienie whistle.

Believing is seeing. We rely too much on our eyes. How do we know we can trust them? No other creature sees the world the way we do. The ant, unable to contact us, might just as well conclude we do not exist because we didn't respond to known pheromone trails, the whale, because we couldn't respond to or join in his song, as humans conclude that Santa and God do not exist because they fail to deliver on their demands on some arbitrary December Day. There are miracles all around you. How do we know that a person in a lab coat is reliable? Scientists lie too (look up the Dutch Lord of the Data). If your parents lied about Santa, are you justified in concluding everything they told you is a lie? People think that I am cynical, untrustworthy, but then they go out and prove themselves often even moreso when they discount their experiences, their hearts, their gut, their elders, and other influences that teach them to believe in something bigger than themselves unless it's something they can see or touch. That's not logical. It's just as much a reducto ad absurdium then to conclude that unless a particular person does a particular thing by an arbitrary date it will never happen or that they never will. Sometimes things beyond out control happen. Judge Reinholdt got his wienie whistle, just not when he was three. Tim Allen got to lead a better life. Eventually the truth comes out and validates the faith of believers everywhere. I love Christmas and Santa because, if you want to see it this way, it evinces that all the things we hope and believe as part of our Faith can and will come to pass someday, somehow, and in some good fashion. Believe, and if you cannot believe, at least desire to believe, and let that work in you until you can remember what it was like to enjoy Christmas as a child.  Remember when anything was possible because of a man you never saw who brought gifts for which you probably weren't nice enough and who did it because it pleased him so to do. That's the Christ to a T.

Faith That the Universe Will Unfold

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As is common this time of year, I, like most of you, think about endings. Today, the countdowns to Christmas end, because it's here. Soon, the year will end. We think about good Christmases, good times, how much more fun and meaning it had for us as children and how much we miss that. Sometimes we also think about how we can be the ending to making the world a better place. While the secularists sing about it and people prattle their personal theories, while the pagans delight in the fact that it's actually "their" holiday, the principles of Christmas are still compatible with and enhancing to Christianity, and it is on those ends that Christmas and Christ bear the most weight. We have faith that because of Christ, because of God's love made manifest through His son's birth, sacrifice and death that things in the universe will all unfold as they ought. Our Faith binds us together in a vision for the future, teaches us to rely on a power higher than ourselves and explains certain facets of the plan so that we can measure whether we're still on track. What the world needs, and what the world gets each Christmas time, at least for a while, is a little more love, a little more faith, and a little more evidence that maybe things will work out alright in the end.

Christians ought to all share a faith in a better world. We're not living for or happy with the world as it is, and sometimes we get caught up in the notion that we must somehow make things better. The best thing is to be the best you that you can be and not worry too much about whether or not your particular paltry participation pivots the world to where it ought to be. Even my less religious friends, and theologians of other persuasions who channel method and rest on scientific measurement do this. They forget that faith is different from knowledge. Knowledge isn't the end; it is one path to enlightenment. The great logician of fiction, Spock, taught us that the universe will unfold as it should in this oft forgotten reference:
We have faith that the universe will unfold as it should. We do our part and rest on that, not because our best is amazing but because through Christ all things will be made right. Through God's plan and love, every mistake, every feeble effort is transformed into something perfect by the merits, grace, and mercy of God and His Christ. I still believe that God's will will be done, it will be done well, and it will be done on time. I still believe that what should be will be when the time is right.

Fidelity to our principles requires us to practice both virtues of serenity and submissiveness. This differs widely from pessimism or distance. It still invites and requires us to act, just teaches us to detach our emotions from a particular personal and present outcome. Emotion usually occurs when outcomes differ from expectations, and so perhaps that's why humans are so emotionally distraught, particularly around the holidays as we all realize this year wasn't quite what we hoped a year ago. I mean, even I reread some of my posts from a year hence, and I'm disappointed that this year was only quiet and not awesome like I hoped. Now, I'm glad that it was quiet, because the alternative is unpleasant, but I'm still disappointed. However, these last few months, I think I've latched onto the reason why it's no longer as traumatic what I lost in Summer 2013. Serenity and submissiveness to God's will usually come concomitant with age/maturity. Some older people never seem to acquire this, and some younger people already have. Eventually, as time marches on, as your perspective and understanding change, and as new things happen in your life, you discover things and people that just aren't that important anymore. You don't take time to worry about them because worrying about them never helped. If they are right, they will happen on their own. This doesn't mean you do nothing. You do what is right and let the consequence follow. Accept that you cannot force them, that you cannot change them, that they are also free to choose their own adventure just as you claim the right. Reaching this stage is difficult. One must give up one's desire, need, and efforts to control things around one and focus on controlling oneself. That's not reassuring, rewarding, or empowering, so we try to control other things, but all we can really change is ourselves. The serenity prayer makes reference to wisdom, which usually only comes with experience. Try not to be too hard on, critical of, or impatient with people around you who have yet to develop any degree of these traits. Those who insist on a "think system" or the power of positive thinking or attitude keep missing the mark because all of these ideas are built upon the notion that you can control things that you can only influence. They do not work because they ignore agency; they preach that you can force and tempt people to virtue, which simply is not so. It is a childish notion. Each of us grows at a different rate, and each of us experiences different things, including the same things different ways. Consequently, each person's ability to reach proper submissiveness to the will, timing, and mercy of the Almighty varies widely just as each of us vary widely in our penchants, personalities, and propensities. Perhaps for this reason, it is usually the more mature among us who consistently and efficiently reach a stage of serenity. Sure, we learn the serenity prayer as children, but we don't usually practice it very well until we have experience enough to recognize the wisdom of that utterance and act accordingly.

Trust that there is a plan. Any strategist tells you that the only thing you can be sure of when YOU plan is that something will not go according to plan. Ergo, you need many iterations, Plan B, plan C, all the way to Plan M if need be, because of contingencies and things you cannot expect because OTHER PEOPLE are agents to act for themselves and are people actuating their own plans. Just because your plan fails or because the things for which you plan fail to materialize doesn't mean that things will never work out for you. We look back at achievements in history and see how it happened, but rarely do we know about all the false starts, the dead ends, and the setbacks suffered before people arrived at the end for which they strove. We like to think we know the plan, that we can rush the plan and that we can force the plan, that we can force people, or the planet, or even the universe to bend to our will. We like to rush things because we don't know how much time we have, and we don't want to be very close when we die or the lifetime of an opportunity expires. However, history and literature are replete with warnings to the contrary. Avoid haste and rush, it leads to accidents, mistakes, and injury to the body and soul. You rush a miracle, and you get rotten miracles. If you try to force it, usually you get cut. This is why force doesn't really work, why you can't really control others. You might seem able to control their behaviors, or at least the ones you desire or see, but eventually people do rise up and rebel. It's not just the American revolution, but teenagers who rebel, Amish who go wilding, slaves who revolt, and every oppression is overturned. In tyranny lies only ultimately failure. Try not to rush it, to force it, and what is right will be when it's time. I know most people who prattle this have "arrived" at their Land of Promise. I have not. I still believe that God has a plan.

I like to think that one day, and hopefully soon, it will be God's great mercy and love to allow what I plan to materialize. I am also mature enough to recognize that I'm not the only player, the only perspective, and the only prospect. Sometimes, if I got what I wanted, it would deny other people their desires, and I do not desire to be selfish and deny others their own happiness. I know that sometimes other people decide not to play and that other people will cheat to win. I know that ultimately cheaters don't really win and that most of the time when you hurry you end up with something only half baked. In God's good time, He will provide what is best for me. I don't know what it is. I only know what I hope it is. Wherever you are, whenever it's right, you'll come out of nowhere and into my life. Yeah, I know what I would like, but I also know that there are other things I ought to like and other things that other people like. It doesn't make them wrong; it makes them different, and variety is often a good thing. How blase would the world be if we all liked the same things for the same reasons? Blech! Things do get better, they already have improved, maybe not in every facet or for you per se or with the speed and to the degree that you like, but they will. There will be a better world, or at the very least tomorrow there is a chance for you to make your world better. Only after you focus on what you can control can you reach true peace and happiness through serenity and submissiveness to God's will. You improve yourself, and that improves your prospects eventually, because it puts you in better places with better people and better prospects. Nothing is guaranteed but opportunity, but the opportunities come as you improve your own lot. Then, you trust that, even if you only know part of the plan that THERE IS A PLAN. You are part of something amazing. God sent His son to suffer, die, and rise again to life YOU up to a better world. I don't know what the plan is all the time, but I do get to know the parts of the plan that are mine to handle and actuate for right now. Sometimes, the plans change, but the objectives remain the same. The universe will unfold as it ought. When, how, for whom? I cannot say, but at Christmas, my hope is renewed that for me there is a better tomorrow, a Land of Promise, a Geautiful Birl, and satisfaction of soul as I hope for, remain true to, and work to do the best I can to be a positive force in what will ultimately happen with or without my help.  May God bless us, every one.  Merry Christmas.

Gold from Lead

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I tell my students that chemistry has its ancient origins in efforts to enrich the lives of those who practiced it. Alchemy, one of the earliest true forms of chemistry, involved a series of reactions with chemical reagents in an effort to turn lead into gold. We're all interested in enriching ourselves, in finding a golden ticket, a golden opportunity, or a golden investigator. We all want our lives to have meaning and make things better for the people around us, particularly people we love. Naturally and consequently when they choose to be something else, to take a different path, to practice the paradigm of the prodigal, it weighs us down that what could be gold remains as lead. However, for those who truly believe in, work for, and try to live like Christ, the promise remains and reminds us that Christ will pick up His jewels. We don't know how to truly help people sometimes, and sometimes we do things with ulterior motives. It's very difficult to be altruistic and objective, especially when we're emotionally involved in a particular outcome. We're also impatient, hoping to see the rewards of our efforts, to take glory unto ourselves, and to reap what we sow. We are part of the miracle, but only part. God's will will be done, it will be done well, and it will be done on time, His time, in His season.

Usually gold becomes lead because we're either using techniques that don't work or materials that cannot lead lead to gold. What alchemists don't understand is that the techniques available to them could never turn lead into gold because they lacked sufficient energy to make those changes. Often we try to apply the adversary's methods thinking they can achieve the Father's plan. As previously written, only virtuous means can really lead to virtuous ends. If you force or trick someone into doing what is right, it might do you for a spell, but even if it sticks it may be a cursed life, a half life, that eventually degrades in a burst of matter and energy that lays waste to the golden life you think you created. Additionally, if you don't actually start with lead, the techniques that turn lead into gold will turn whatever else you have into something else, perhaps something worse, but definitely something other than what you intended. In chemistry we apply certain techniques, protocols, and reactions because they are the most likely to succeed. Even then, as students can attest, we never get 100% yield. I don't think it's possible. It's certainly not likely, and so even if you do everything perfectly, forces beyond your understanding or control often conspire to produce something else. My first "investigator" in Austria, Aniko Kittle, illustrated this principle. My trainer and I spent a great deal of time with Aniko "teaching" her, which was really an excuse to not visit other people. When Elder Wagstaff discovered I stopped visiting Aniko, he was furious, but I knew that she was spending time with us because she was lonely. Aniko's husband had left her with two little children, and Bishop Warosh's wife took them under her wing, but she wasn't friendly with the church to join it; she was friendly to benefit from the friendship and generosity of the members. Aniko's lead wasn't going to turn to gold by the normal methods, and so I knew it wasn't wise to continue to hope those reactions would work. Chemistry is not personal; it's about the method, about the preferences of the universe which follows the law and has no interest in what you desire unless you set the stage for that correctly.

Often, gold becomes leaden when we're emotionally involved in the outcome. Sunday, a young woman reported on her missionary service in Bolivia. Apparently Bolivia is rich with golden people and golden opportunities, and she spoke glowingly about her experiences and her great frequency of success there inviting people to come to Christ and improve their lives. After the meeting, Tom, who returned recently from Russia asked me if his experience was a lie since his was greatly different from hers. I told him that I only had one golden opportunity as a missionary, and that's probably why I remember her name. Daniella Palaora, who lived on Beda-Weber Gasse in Innsbruck, Austria, approached ME at the street display on Mueseumstrasse, to ask me how she could help her children know about God and His love for them. She was textbook golden- read everything, prayed immediately, came to church, met with members, and agreed to be baptised. Only ten days after meeting her, her husband stepped in and forbade us from any further interaction with her. I took it better than Elder Graham and Elder Husz, because I wasn't emotionally involved in the outcome, having only spoken with Daniella once, but I remember her name because it was a powerful and rare experience. In 2013, when a woman for whom I really cared rebuffed my affections and cut me out of her life, I understood how those other missionaries must have felt to lose access to Daniella, because I was emotionally involved. A golden opportunity became leaden because a male family member protracted a slanderous and libelous campaign against my Faith and cut us off. I felt weighed down, impoverished, and disappointed. My golden opportunity failed to enrich my life or hers, and in the end I think everyone lost at least for now, and it hurts.

Sometimes lead turns into gold only after forces beyond your control act and at a time long after you leave the lab. We are poor players who strut and fret our hour on stage only to largely amount to nothing. My first speaking role in a play was as the First Servant in Julius Caesar, who has one line, and who dies after making his stand to Caesar. Of course, Caesar discovers he was right, but too late to save the First Servant from death. My first real investigator that I found in Austria, Ursula Huber, lived on Bahnhofgasse in Neumarkt am Wallersee. Ten years before meeting us, she recounted, God told her to speak with two missionaries she saw walking in Salzburg who disappeared around a corner to never be seen again. Then, I walked into her dry cleaner one Wednesday to have my suit cleaned, and she decided it was time to talk to us. Despite the great amount of work done by God to prepare her heart and mind, she still reticently resisted our invitations to repent and be baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ. Eventually, I told her that we needed to spend time looking for people who were prepared to align their lives to God's will and that I would not visit her as much so that we would be available to find those people. Two weeks later, I was transferred to Hall in Tirol, and six months later Ursula finally consented to follow the promptings and accept God's commands. When I saw her last, soon after her baptism, I told her that obviously God needed to send someone else, because I was out of ideas, and because that jolted her to act. Sure, we hope to be present for and participant in the miracle, and we know it will enrich our lives, but since it's also about enriching THEIR lives, does it really matter who gets the credit and when it happens so long as it happens? I am happy for her and for my companion Elder Lutter who got to baptize the very first person he EVER taught as a missionary, and the Salzburg-Flachgau ward was overjoyed to have her, but it happened long after I was gone and after other things happened that I could not achieve. No matter how golden an opportunity may be, sometimes it takes time and patience and forces beyond our poor power to add or detract in order to finish the process and bring forth gold from the din of a life and make things richer.

I have seen all too many golden opportunities turn into lead, and I have seen all too much lead decide to stay that way, and it hurts. An old friend from High School told me once that she felt I had the propensity to see people as they could be, their best selves, and then take it personally when they decide, at least for now, to be something other than rise to their full potential. Just because lead isn't gold yet doesn't mean it won't be one day. Just because it didn't enrich me doesn't mean it won't enrich them that I came to try to react upon their lives and change things for the better. It isn't about me; it's about the leaden soul becoming golden through the Atonement of Christ. As we think of Christmas, and of God's Christ, that's the miracle. No matter how dark or dense or heavy the lead may weigh down your soul, Christ has the power to turn any leaden life into a golden one, to make rich what once seemed worthless and give value to your life. He can do things I never could because He acts in better ways and over a longer period than I can. As a missionary, I was only there for a season and able to do only so much. The Great Alchemist can make anything worthless and heavy into anything valuable and uplifting. Sometimes I wonder why He asks me to do anything. I feel like Miracle Max, afraid I might kill whomever He asks me to make a miracle. However, this is the Christmas season, His season, the time of year when we remind ourselves of that thrill of hope as the weary world rejoices, that prodigals can return, and that everyone can be made bright, even if we feel we have no gifts to bring parum-pa-pa-pum fit to set before the King. How great the importance to make these things known unto all the world that He will make intercession for ALL the children of men, that Christ can make golden anything weighed down by the lead of the world. He can even rescue you from Egypt.  Even lead can be led.

Endearing or Stalker?

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In the information age, it's easy to get information about some people without their knowing you did so. We know things people didn't intend to tell us, didn't think they told us, and never intended to tell us if you know how to find it. Sometimes that information is provided against our desires. Sometimes it's provided without our knowing it. I previously wrote about how I detest Google because it tracks EVERYTHING you do and sells it for "advertising purposes", and I think I already wrote about how I hate the assessor's office for making available on their website details about the house I bought. I am guarded about certain details, certain stories, and certain information, and so when other people know certain things about me that I did not tell them, it does not win them props in my book. It puts me even more en garde. Just because you think it's a cute gesture doesn't mean the recipient will feel the same way.

It's that time of year when Christmas cards arrive. I don't send any, but I appreciate those who reach out to let me know they care enough to spend money on a stamp to send me mail that isn't a bill. Far too many people contact me only when they want help. However, imagine my surprise to receive a card from a woman with whom I have not spoken in months, whom I haven't seen since June, and to whom I NEVER gave my address. I am unsettled knowing that she has my address since I didn't give it to her. I haven't reached out to this person because I do not want to. Is it endearing behavior or should I be worried that I have a stalker?

Only one other person ever came to my house without my giving them permission to do so who knew me at all let alone well. The Jehovah's Witnesses come all the time, but they visit the neighborhood and not just me. When she arrived and knocked on my door, it didn't endear her to me. In fact, I felt violated. My home is my refuge, and I invite whom I will to visit, and she was never invited. Later, when she attempted to build a relationship with me, this affront made sure that we never became anything because I wasn't sure I could trust her to vouchsafe information she could only get from me and not pass it on.

I come into possession of sensitive information all the time. I am bound by HIPPA and FERPA to keep some of it secret, and I am bound by HONOUR to keep the rest secret. If it is not my information to disseminate, it doesn't matter how I got it. I believe very strongly that this is one major reason why my Sunday School kids like me- they trust me not to betray them when they share sensitive information. On the other hand, if it affects me directly or involved me personally, I am perfectly free to share it. I know these people found out my address in a sidelong albeit probably legal manner. The first discovered it because she was a realtor. The second still boggles my mind, but it made me even less interested in seeing her again. Who is this that darkeneth counsels by words without knowledge? I don't like when people have advantage over me by knowing information about me that I did not give them. All too often, they know half the story without the other half to explain the context. You will hear lots of things about me; some of it will actually be true, but only some.

Although I know that other people may know my address, they choose not to reveal that out of deference. It's the proper thing to do, to not use information gained illegally, unethically, or surreptitiously in order to advance your personal prospects. People do it all the time, which is why so many people are rich, but it doesn't make it right, and this particular person has made herself less compelling to me because she has information about me that puts me at a disadvantage. I could probably find out her address; I have no interest in so doing. I'm not stalking her, but the case could be made that she is stalking me. I think the take-home message is that just because you find it endearing doesn't mean others will feel the same, and just like any other projected behavior, unless you clear it with someone first it may not have the outcome you intended.

My 2016 Christmas Miracle

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Every Christmas, they play a litany of Christmas themed movies depicting unbelievable miracles, usually dealing with love and happiness. In reality, some of the miracles we experience are far less exciting and obvious. I think we get caught up so much in the spectacle and highlights that we sometimes take for granted things that happen. Sometimes I tap the dashboard of my Saturn the same way I would pet a beloved dog, because I know this car endures and lot and performs far beyond expectations getting me there and back again safely and efficiently. It's a miracle, and that's where my Christmas miracle begins.

While talking with my hiking buddy today, I remembered how close I came on my commute to a hospital bed this week. Tuesday morning, I watched from the corner of Sloan and Owens as the Clark County work vehicle (a Ford F-450) was t-boned by a young kid in a sedan. As far as I can tell, the sedan plowed right into the truck at full speed, as if he was completely distracted, and pushed the truck at a 45 degree angle all the way to the opposite curb. He was probably speeding, or else he wouldn't be able to push the truck that far. Initially nobody stopped, so I checked both drivers. The young kid tried to drive away despite an empty radiator and broken half shaft. The other driver insisted he was fine despite the fact that his door was crushed.

It dawned on me that I was seeing little short of a miracle. If I had been earlier to the stop sign, it is very possible that the young kid would have smashed headlong into ME. From the damage sustained by the truck, and given the location of the hit, I think he would have killed me right then and there. My Christmas miracle is that I get a 2017. Now I don't think that other driver deserved it or needed the hassle, but he was a better choice. His truck was large enough to protect him from the gravest of consequences. His truck wasn't his personal vehicle, so he isn't financially out anything. He seemed ok. I know I am.

Despite my hopes, 2016 turned out to not be particularly spectacular or memorable. While it will be the best financial year of my life, it doesn't really stand out in any other way besides not being painful. Nobody died, nobody rejected me, and the dean finally retired. I'm still not promoted, but I did get my 4.5% raise, and the legislature promised not to cut our salaries since the state budget is still under duress. So, since I made it to work safely, I'm starting out 2017 without any assurance of suffering or malaise.

I really wanted 2016 to be amazing. I really hoped that things would change that were eternally significant. I recognize however that there are still really only two things about my life I would change. First off, I would like to be recognized and rewarded for my work with a promotion/raise/better job. In the last two years, I've applied for six different jobs/positions, and I only got an interview for one of them, so I'm concluding that for some reason this is where I ought to be. I know that my church leaders seem very convinced that I belong as a Sunday School instructor for the high school age kids; I still think they're nuts, but they also seem to be correct. Secondly, I ask God to please provide a partner. I didn't even meet anyone in 2016 I really wanted to get to know. I figure it will take little short of a standing miracle to introduce me to someone who will love me, appreciate my love, and stay with me, but I did see a standing miracle that day, so I know that anything is possible. It's still the season of perpetual hope. At least, thanks to Divine Providence, I get another chance next year.

Police Provide Positive Perspective

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On my way to lunch yesterday, one of the campus police cars, which was driving the opposite direction, turned on its lights and pulled over right in front of me. With that came the accompanying trepidation that seems concomitant with police encounters wherein I asked myself what I could have possibly done incorrectly now to warrant a visit from the police. To my surprise, he actually got out of his car in order to pay me a compliment. He told me that for several weeks now he's told himself he'd pull over and ask me how much I walk daily and why, and when I told him, he was honestly impressed so much that he told me that I was very fit. You see, he sees the same young people on campus that I do, and despite what people think, I'm probably in better shape than most of the kitten caboodle physically, financially, ecumenically, spiritually, and grammatically. I do different things, and some people may consider those weird, but we all too often forget that others may consider us odd reciprocally. I was surprised to see this officer spin his words positively since I encounter so many police who unjustly ascribe evil to men and expect to find it when they scrutinize you, but this gentleman stopped in order to praise me. He showed me that the officers who responded when I was mugged and robbed in May were not the exception, because he's learned to look beyond the outward appearance and notice other things not easily ascertained by the eye untrained. It was an interesting and positive experience in many ways.

Different does not denote deficient. Shakespeare wrote that each has his entrance and exit, and I believe that everyone has his own strengths, and we ought to play to those. I am a Germanic Nord, and my build supports that. My hiking buddy thinks I was built to be a warrior, and so I do most of what I do in order to build endurance and with an eye towards the long game. Most of what I do vocationally and financially has an eye on events and dates many years if not decades out in the future. If you want a better future, there are things you must start today. Plants cannot sprout from seeds you did not sow. Fruits cannot spring unless you nurture first the bough. I have decided to grow different plants that bear different fruits, and those are not necessarily unworthy ones. I find them worthy. Whose life am I supposed to live? Whose preferences am I supposed to keep? In the absence of other opportunities, responsibilities, and duties, I choose to plant a garden, walk my errands, and spend my time burning calories because I know that while most attempts to spin relationships out of nothing will bear no fruit, investments in myself will bear some fruit at least, and most of it will be good fruits. The officer praised me for what I do as an educator; I thanked him for his work in law enforcement. I think it's very telling and interesting how many of these men, who all earn more than I do, look up to and respect me as a member of higher education. I think it's interesting and telling how many of my elders approve of most of my decisions and that virtually every finance article says I've done the right things for a good financial future except for having a good partner.

Denotation makes a great deal of difference. The officer praised my dedication and tenacity and pointed out that he believes it makes me better fit. I pointed out to him that recently other people decided to refer to this as obsession. My mother asked me last Sunday if having a fitbit made me obsessed, I answered quickly and emphatically yes it does. However, it also gives me feedback, and more importantly, it gives me measurable data that I use to gauge my progress and achievement potential. Before the fitbit, I had no idea what my basal metabolic rate might be, and now I know I burn 1920 kcal/day STAYING ALIVE, which means I can eat more than the USRDA of foods if I'm active and not pay the price. You call it obsession; I call it information. You call it fanaticism; I call it tenacity. You call it routine; I call it discipline. The police officers on campus have decided to respect and esteem me for my efforts. I guess you can paint it how you like.

There is more to it than meets the eye. When I first started walking everywhere, it was summer 2015, and it was hot outside. One night, when my brother called me during my walk home and noticed that I was breathing heavily and asked how hot it was outside, even I thought I was completely nuts. At first, people looked down on me, like I was homeless or poor, but they eventually stopped worrying I was there to rob the place or even check my receipts as I came several days per week, bought groceries, and returned home. Now, I even get a slight discount for using my own bags. However, there are still some people, most noticeably young, attractive women, who take this as a sign that I am unable to run errands in a car because I don't own one. Likewise, the exercise I do isn't blatantly obvious. In summer of 2015, when I took a Canadian lad up to the peak at Mt. Charleston and returned in under nine hours, many forest service personnel were rightly and noticeably impressed. However, note-worthily, the young, attractive, skinny female supervisor was not. Like too many her age, she judges fitness by her eyes and not by experience, and so when we hiked together and I drove, I think that was one of the first times she started looking at me differently. I asked my dad years back if I should worry about speed or distance, and he advised me to train for the long haul, and I believe he was correct, at least for me. I see no point in driving to a store, risking a wreck, fighting for a parking place, waiting in lines, and spending more gas than is necessary for a trip that takes me barely longer to walk. Sure, sometimes it's colder or hotter than I like, but since I am outside all the time, I become accustomed to it, and I have a very nice tan for a Nord.

Last year, God sent me a Christmas Card telling me I was perfect the way I was, and this year He sent a police officer. I found it well timed after a phone conversation I had Wednesday during which a female coworker of my faith essentially blamed my plight on my attitude. Far too many people seem to see deficiencies in me and use words that denote negative meanings. Even when some of them know about what has happened, they like to feed me trite aphorisms and presume that good ideas never cross my mind or that I don't do them. You don't become a good man by making habits of bad things. If I am a good guy, it's because I make a habit of doing good things. One cannot make a quality product from rotten ingredients. Especially at Christmas, it's nice to get some positive perspective, friendly feedback, and inspiring introspection. After this exchange and some prayer, I realized that the fault in my case does not lie in myself. Sure, I could be happier, more optimistic, and expect good things now; I do expect good things, but I temper that with an understanding that I may have to wait until judgment day in order to reap what I sow, especially when other people are free to make choices that hurt me, however accidental those decisions may be. Excellence is a habit. I am excellent. I hope that the people who felt otherwise find excellence on the paths they choose. I know things will one day be bright for me. I'm certainly working very hard for it, and if a police officer can notice and take time out of his day to come and tell me, maybe that's God trying to send me a message too that He who seeth in secret will surely reward me openly.

VIR

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As the Spring semester nears, emails come in from the coordinating faculty about changes and expectations. Since I'm teaching a course I haven't taught for some years, I got all of those "welcome to Science123 class!" emails associated therewith and noticed something absolutely flabbergasting in the carbon copy line. A person who filed false police reports against me years ago that were debunked appears to not only not suffered any consequences, but she's also been invited to teach and rewarded with that opportunity. This begs the question of what the incentive actually is to be mannerly, virtuous, and good when at best you can't tell the difference and when at worst other people are elevated above you. It seems like if you are rich, popular, or famous, you can get away with almost anything that the kitten caboodle can only dream, but it also begs the question of whether or not you can actually do good if you do it only because of the incentive. I also wonder, question, or ponder whether that's why so many rich, famous, married, and powerful people seem unhappy. Since they're doing it for the rewards and not for the virtue, can the virtue ever really be present or just the appearance thereof? VIR is latin for "man of virtue", and that is the only honour to which I aspire, to earn that inscription on my headstone.

People vary widely in their reasoning for doing what they do, even when two people do the same thing. For this reason, it matters a great deal to consider why a person does something and not ascribe motives to them without foremost performing that investigation. Most people appear to act for the same reasons that the rest of the animal kingdom does- to gain some personal advantage. They do what it takes to get a raise, to get rich, to get renown, to get other humans to be intimate with them, and then they use this to elevate themselves above the rest in classic Darwinian fashion. As part of his landmark book, "Human Action", Ludwig von Mises explains that everything people do is for a particular yield they hope to gain, even people who are people of virtue. What they desire is virtue, a world of morality and law and honour, and in order to get it, they know it must begin with them. Despite the fact that I have made some mistakes, to which some of you can perhaps attest, I truly do work as hard as I can to be on the best behavior possible in every circumstance because I value virtue more than any advantage the alternatives afford. If I were doing it for some other reason, I would have long abandoned this quixotic quest in order to get some other mortal measurement of value, but those things cannot satisfy. However, since I cannot possibly create a world of virtue in and of myself, that doesn't satisfy me either.

Sometimes despite our best efforts, we can't tell the difference in outcome between the virulent and the virtuous, or in worst case they appear to be inversely rewarded. Far too often, men who might otherwise live virtuous lives cease to do so because they see that virtue doesn't pay and settle for instant albeit temporary gratification offered by mammon. Two men in my congregation at church whom we'll call Mike and Don fit this template. Both Mike and Don share similarities although they are unique and different people. They served as missionaries in Europe, got an advanced education, married in the Faith and then endured a divorce. When Mike's marriage ended, he turned away from the dogma and engaged in all sorts of behaviors contrary to doctrine and Christian morality, but after some time returned, repented, and regained otherwise a full fellowship. Consequently, he met an attractive and able help meet, worked to convert her to the Faith and remarried to the restoration of all blessings as far as I know (they moved after they married to live in her house). Contrariwise, Don remained true to the Faith after he was divorced despite his wife's shenanigans, tried to keep the faith, met a nice young lady who purported and promised to be a good help meet, shared the gospel with her, and then watched it all fall apart because she decided our Faith was evil. He is still devastated by this. Don and Mike received rewards that by all appearance lie disproportionate to their behavior. I don't know all the details or how the stories eventually end, but at this time, the man of virtue seems to have seen the shaft while the other man reaped rewards he did not necessarily sow.

Men of virtue will continue doing their best no matter what happens, no matter what the consequence, and no matter the rewards. They are not perfect, but they will be different from other men you know. They know that the true measure of a man is not in what happens to him or what happens because of his efforts but that it comes out in how he acts because of who he is. Eventually I think most people learn to recognize the best men somehow, but for many good men, that may come too late to be of any real use. What good does it do a young man such as myself to have 70 year old women think he's amazing? When I'm 70, will 70 year olds feel that way about me or just see me as a loser because I never remarried or really ever had a real relationship lasting more than a year? As I discussed this with my best friend and he tossed ideas back at me, I recollected a scene from the movie "Cool Runnings" where the team captain of the Jamaican Bobsledders asks the coach how he'll know his worth. The coach replies, "If you're not enough without it [a gold medal] you'll never be enough with it." A man of virtue knows what he is worth. It doesn't take a medal or a family or a mercedes or a fancy title to make a man great. Yoda taught us that wars do not make one great. What makes one great is consistent reliable adherence to principles. In the moment, that satisfies very little, and over my life time at least it's very empty.

They say that if you desire to know the measure of a man consider what he does for those who can do nothing for him. When the incentive is gone, and a man acts virtuously from the will alone to do things that perhaps lose all relish, when he gives of himself quietly so that others do not know, and when he loses his life for the sake of others, even if he continues to live, that is virtue. We hand out the title of virtuous and good far too easily, far too readily, and all too often we assume those festooned with fanciful plumage to be the best among us when they may be lucky at best and villainous in all reality. If nothing else, 2016 showed us just how difficult it is for persons of any semblance of virtue to rise above the fray and make their power known, but they exist, as surely as you are reading this now, they exist, because without men of virtue, cities fall into ruin and civilizations waste away. For my own part, I ascribe to the mantra of Marcus Aurelius and intend to live the best life I can no matter what happens, because even at worst case I left a good example for my nieces. I want them to know how to recognize men who continue to do the best thing no matter what the outcome, who consistently choose what is best rather than what is best for them so that they'll know who to trust, whom to marry, and to whom they ought to turn.

I get knocked down, but I get up again, and you're never going to keep me down. I try not to impart too much cynicism and bitterness to my Sunday School class or my siblings or my nieces, but I know that they will pick up on it because I'm hurt, I'm disappointed, and I expect the shaft. I hope I don't have to live another 50 years by myself, because I don't think I'll be able to keep this up, and I'm afraid to let God down. I feel lost, like nothing I do really matters. I try to remember that most people if they really knew would be ashamed or are ashamed of how they treat me; I know they didn't intend to hurt me. The problem is that I'm not affected by your intentions, but I am affected by your actions, and I'm trying not to be too upset or hurt or angry. I'm trying to show them that I love them even when they hurt me, because that's the Christian thing to do, that even after Christ bled for our sins He desires our happiness. I hope you are happy and healthy and honest with the people you love now. I hope you keep the promises you made to them. I hope God will keep His promises to you for all the good things you do and are. Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas NOW.

A Christmas For Carole

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The following is a true story. Consequently, any attempt to reproduce, rewrite, retell, or similar this tale for any sort of profit is prohibited by copyright and legal indemnity.  Some of the names, locations, and dates have been changed, since I don't have permission from the people in the story to tell it, but I do know everyone mentioned in the story you are about to read.

Thanksgiving Day dawned as an otherwise normal day for Chris, Carol and their family. However, unbeknownst to them, the family in the other side of their duplex was not good at frying turkey, and so before Black Friday shopping began, a fire erupted that consumed the entire house and burnt it completely to the ground. The family was devastated. Homeless, penniless, and bereft of belongings just before Christmas 2007, Chris and Carol took their two small children and moved in with Carole's parents while they picked up the broken pieces and fought with the insurance company for a settlement.

Meanwhile, their friend Nick took an interest in their plight. Over the next two weeks, he squeezed information out of Carole in conversations over the phone and in person and found out what the two children requested from Santa. Finally as Christmas day drew near, he told Chris and Carole about his plan to play Santa, found out where they were living, and made arrangements to deliver the gifts. That final week before Christmas 2007, he took the gifts, wrapped them, wrote individual and hand-written notes to each recipient, numbered them, and prepared. Each child had two gifts, and the first present was a camera so that the family could document Christmas together.

At 2:00AM Christmas morning, after working a twelve hour shift the day before, Nick rose from his bed, loaded everything in the car, and drove 42 miles to the country village in Mississippi where his friends lived. He dropped the packages on the porch, sent a text and drove home to go to sleep. He had no plans of his own, no family with whom to celebrate Christmas, and had to work the next day anyway.

The children were overwhelmed, and Carole's parents were completely aghast that someone would go to these lengths. Everyone knew that the parents had not played Santa because nobody recognized Nick's handwriting, and because nobody knew what the gifts were until they were unwrapped. Carole's daughter Sara was overwhelmed to have a personal note from "Santa", and her son Daniel was elated to get some of the gifts from his list. Both of them were surprised and excited that Santa had found them despite losing their home and having to move. For the next seven years, Sara swore to all of her friends that Santa really existed and sometimes produced the note Nick wrote to prove it to her friends.

In 2014, Nick drove to visit Chris, Carole, and their family at their new brownstone in NW Philadelphia. You see, they hadn't seen each other for years, and Sara, who now knew that Santa wasn't real and that Nick had come to deliver the presents, wanted to meet her Santa. She still has the note. She still believes in miracles.

While serving as a missionary I came across the now famous statue in a town mentioned in stories. At the center of the plaza, a statue of Jesus Christ stands there without any hands and with a plaque at its base. During WWII, bombs hit the statue, but when the town folk reassembled the statue, they couldn't reproduce the hands. So, the elected not to try and placed the plaque which reads, "Jesus has no hands but our own." Christmas is the season of miracles, the season of perpetual hope. You don't have to do big things and save Christmas like Nick did for his friends, but there are things you can do to help others find joy, peace, and happiness at Christmas and all throughout the year. Consider these suggestions to make this a Season of Light, and do what you can to spread light through the darkness to those who struggle and strive. I still believe in miracles. You can make them happen.