Bella Debut

Meet Bella, a Shitsu-Bijon Frise mix puppy. She joined the household of my niece and her husband a few weeks ago. Bella will be joined sometime in October by their first child,
a boy. I suspect that they will become fast friends.

The Dogged Dogwood

The view from my window as I work at my computer is a dogwood tree that has withstood the test of time. By rights this tree should not be alive, let alone looking so good.

Years ago my roommate's blue heeler mix was in the chewing stage of puppyhood when a wind storm filled the back yard with limbs. That the storm happened just before my father's death meant I had higher priorities than removing the limbs. Andy explored like any puppy his age and decided the limbs were the best chew toys ever. When the limbs disappeared from the yard, Andy went in search of living wood and chewed this young tree to a stump. It gave new meaning to "dogwood."

The tree recovered, growing into a nicely shaped tree, if a bit off-center at its base. Decades later, you'd never suspect it had survived such severe pruning.

A few years ago, falling limbs from another windstorm stripped it of most of its upper branches. This time I was sure it wasn't going to survive and do well. But in a couple of seasons it had so many little starts trying to branch back that I asked my bonsai expert friend to come over and see if he could shape it. He did, and today it looks very respectable.

This dogwood stands as a testimony to the resiliency of life. At times we may be reduced to a "stump" and our branches may not look so good, but with time we can stand tall. I'd like to think I'm as dogged in my determination to persevere as this dogwood tree.

What Do You Do?

A close friend betrays a confidence. Not once, but twice. And lies to you about it. Both times.
Your spouse betrays your relationship, and you can't save your marriage.
An elder counsels you with platitudes and then falters when he must walk in your shoes.
You couldn't land a job if your life depended on it, and it does.
The folks in your support group believe the worst about you and tell others the same.

There are times in life when the things that help hold you together give way. When the people you count on aren't to be counted on. When the things that support you don't any longer. When what you believe in becomes implausible. What do you do when the fabric of your life frays?

The answers are not to be found in those whose failings match your own, but in the power and faithfulness of God.

Hope Does Not Disappoint Us

This marks the second week since the company's owner made good on his threat to fire me. Except I got him to sign a letter to the effect that he was laying me off due to restructuring and cutbacks, ensuring my eligibility for unemployment benefits; more importantly, it ensured my good standing for future employment. He tried to make it about a nitpicking typo he searched for two weeks to find, because that is his way. He is a bully, a tyrant emboldened by the 6 or 7 zeros to the left of the decimal point of his net worth, who rules his workers with fear, harassment, and intimidation. The funny thing about bullies is that they back down when their bluff is called. And, this one crumpled completely, getting rattled enough to forget my name. His sideways grin told me he knew that I knew his game and wasn't going to let him get away with it. In the end, he acknowledged my value and admitted that he simply felt I wasn't needed.

I tell you that story only because my coworkers could not understand my attitude. I did not come out of that meeting beaten, which was their expectation. I told them that the owner was not in charge of my life, God was. Whatever lie ahead, God would take care of me.

It took me two days last week, including over four hours on hold, to cut through red tape to sign up for unemployment benefits that will roughly match 40% of my previous paycheck. No job materialized, and with summer-like weather in the forecast, I followed through with plans to spend the weekend at the beach. The ocean has always drawn me closer to God. I think it is the vastness of the horizon and the thundering power of the surf. I find it compelling to walk along the beach and talk with Him.

I met with a house church Sunday morning. The lesson was about bad things happening to good people. Most of the thoughts I had heard before, but God's word has a way of speaking anew.

"Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." (Rom 5:1-5)

I was struck by the fact that I had reached the hope stage of that progression. Not just a hope that is confident of the life to come, but one that is secure in the todays and tomorrows of my life in Him. And I was thankful for the life experiences that had brought me that far, even though none were pleasant at the time. They helped to make me aware of God's loving presence.

I came home to find that an unexpected check had arrived in the mail while I was gone. It knocked my socks off. God is faithful. Hope does not disappoint us.

A Not-So-Subtle Reminder

Late today I learned that I was to have been fired last Friday, except I was out of town and not at my desk. Why that has not yet happened, I do not know.

It appears that the owner of the company where I am employed as a technical writer learned how much I make, which is far more than he thinks anyone should earn. Top dollar for him comes from his distant past, which is quite a ways back when you consider that he is 84. Recently, he had to take the reins of the company; he ran off his GM by cutting his salary in half. That his GM was his son lends a whole 'nother dimension to the story, but I digress.

Tonight I am thankful that the day began with a longer than usual quiet time, and continued with a persistent awareness of God's presence. The day has been a not-so-subtle reminder that my life and livelihood depend upon God's care— every day, not just in the face of a threat like losing my job. Those times just pull the curtain back and reveal the source of the power that sustains the universe and orders my life and yours... minute by minute. God knew what my day would bring this morning when I talked with Him.

And, I'm certain He has tomorrow figured out, as well.

First and Lasting Impressions

Gruff, distant, unkempt... would likely be your initial impression of Don. And, it might be your lasting impression if you failed to catch the glimmer in his kind eyes that drew you to the heart of the man.

Don could sit in the midst of conversation without saying a word, sometimes listening to his music with headphones. But he made friends with every waitress in the restaurants he frequented. He knew them all by name, and they greeted him with affection each time he came in. And when he was in the mood to talk, sometimes only after he knew you well, it was worth the wait.

Don carried treats for kids and critters alike. He would reach in his pocket for candy to offer a child (from 1 to 92). Squirrels, birds, and other creatures in his backyard— and on any street he regularly walked— became accustomed to seeds, shelled peanuts, and other tasty morsels strewn their way.

Don's eyes lit up most in response to his wife Jeanne. Vivacious, talkative, loving, and gentle, she was the perfect match for him. And she loved him dearly. Their shared laughter could evoke a smile from anyone within earshot. They had the comfortable companionship and commitment that sustains long marriages.

If you only looked on the outside, you'd miss the measure of this or any man. God does not look upon us as the dust he clutched from the earth to breathe into life. He sees the inward man. It is the part of us that is made in His image and grows to be more like Him when God's Spirit is given reign. The lasting impression we will carry of Don comes from the hand of God.

Don valued the things most of us overlook or take for granted.

Don passed from this life yesterday afternoon. But, the story won't end there. Because Don's heart belonged first and foremost to God, and his soul is in God's keeping, where it will be safe for all eternity.

A Red Letter Day

Each morning as I ride public transportation to work, I find it interesting to see how people occupy their time on MAX. Most people read or work puzzles. A few annoy everyone else with nonstop cell phone conversations. Some nap. By week's end, that number grows.

One day this week I noticed a young man reading his Bible. Not merely observing a cursory glance through a daily devotional book with a required scripture reading, he was engrossed all the way from the Gateway Transit Center to one of the last downtown stops. As he stowed his large Bible in his backpack and got up for his stop, I told him I liked the way he started his day. He smiled and said it helped him keep perspective. As if in secret code, he added, "Red letters in the morning give the day perspective." Yes, the words of Jesus, written in red in many translations, give perspective to life. Making that a daily compass adjustment is a wise choice.

For this young man, the commitment required carrying the weight of his Bible with him for his day. Not a cross, certainly, but burden enough to provide its own reminder of the gravity of the decision. Making the time to listen to the words of Jesus costs something, because God does not look at our work days with the eyes of commerce and ambition or measure our success by the prestige of our titles or the size of our pay checks.

I hope you had a red-letter day. If you didn't, I hope you'll choose to make tomorrow a red-letter day!

The Greatest of These is Love

This week I listened to a successful Christian author speak about what was most important. It was not her success as a writer. She most wanted to be remembered for being like her dad. Not that she resembled him in looks, but that she had learned to love as he had loved. And her dad had taught her to love like God loves.

As I listened, I was touched by her words. I sat next to two Christian friends, whose love for me had been evident only moments before, in a place where I come to worship God each week. My thoughts were drawn to my heavenly Father, whose single-word description is love.

Later, I read this passage with new understanding:
For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge -- that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Ephesians 3:14-21

It struck me that the most powerful force at work in our lives as Christians is Godly love. Grasping the enormity of Christ's love and experiencing it is the beginning of being filled to the measure of the fullness of a God whose very nature is love. God's spirit at work in our inner being is the comforting presence of God's love in us, at work in us. The one who is able to do the unfathomable accomplished his greatest work out of his love for us. For God so loved... is the message of hope that we have experienced and bring to our world.

What am I Worth?

In the past few weeks, I've been shown by employers I'm worth $20, $25, $32, and $37 an hour, either because they paid or offered me that wage. I've also been told by my peers that all of those figures are too low, that I should accept no less than $55, and deserve up to $70, an hour for my writing skills and the strong background I bring to them. Who's right?

Actually, my worth is not determined by the marketplace. Long before I was born, long before any employer considered my worth, God decided I was worth the life of his one and only Son. Even as I struggle to grasp the magnitude of that, I accept that the One who created me knows my true value.

Taking The Road Less Crowded

I drove to work yesterday instead of taking MAX. But, what is an easy 40-minute drive at 6 AM is a two-hour nightmare any afternoon, longer on Friday: I-5 jammed from Wilsonville to to the Interstate Bridge, Hwy 26 creeping from before Sylvan to I-405. I-84 slowed from Lloyd's Center out to I-205. As I listened to the traffic report on this gorgeous afternoon, I began to formulate an idea. Let's see, two plus hours home or less than two hours to the coast. No contest. Go West.

A few minutes this side of 5 PM, I was sitting at a table on Mo's patio at Tolovani with a cup of decaf coffee and a view of Haystack Rock. After a leisurely meal of grilled salmon topped off with Marion berry cobbler, I walked the beach.

Kids making sandcastles, adults sculpting a sand crocodile, dogs chasing balls and each other, couples snuggling, Frisbee players choosing up sides, low-riding bicyclers scurrying like crabs along the water's edge, kites soaring and diving in the wind, horseback riders threading their way through people and pets. Sure beats aggressive drivers trying to bully their way home in hopelessly snarled traffic.

With the sun overhead, the ocean at my feet, and a comfortable breeze at my side, I tried out the folding quad chair I'd gotten as a going-away present. I even tried out my new Phillip Margolin paperback. Ahhhhh... Calling a friend just made them envious.

I watched the ocean— and let it work its endless magic on me— until the sun dropped below the horizon, and then I headed home. I got to Hillsboro in time to see the air show’s fireworks' display and just ahead of the spectator traffic.

How long did it take me to get home Friday night? Much, much longer than two hours, but who's counting?

A feeling of accomplishment

Five weeks on the new job and I've finished the first draft of my initial project. I'm revising the operator's manual for a mid-line Doppler unit, which will hopefully provide a template for models above and below it.

It feels good to have completed this task. My previous jobs involved measurable results every few minutes, and a whopping tally at the end of the day in terms of patients processed and tests reported. While I've known each day that I have made progress, this is the first time I've been able to show results. By midweek, I hope to have it ready to submit for review. Then, we'll see just how well I'm doing in this new career.

On the job

I'm in the middle of my second week as a full-time writer. I've been updating procedures in operations and biotech manuals, becoming used to my office-mates, and learning the rich history and eclectic culture of this family business. We had an audit today, so things will settle down with fewer rush assignments. My long-term assignment is to standardize all of the manuals with a user-friendly format. I learned that I was chosen for this position, in part, because of my experience as a "user" running instrumentation and often rewriting the manufacturer's instructions. Standardizing the manuals will also make translation for internatonal markets easier.

My boss is easy to be around. He entertains me daily with stories about this place and the people who work here. His humor extends to the adventure of dealing with his father, 100 years old and in failing health. His dad was admitted to the hospital last weekend. He learned today that his dad is likely dying, and the stress showed for the first time. I hope that this stage goes as easily for the family as possible.

The commute is the only drawback. Next week I'm going to venture out on Max and the bus line. The time, at least on paper, is about the same as I'm spending in my van. I expect it to be less stressful and more productive.

My desk chair arrived today, so my desk can't be far behind. That will give me a place to store my things and a comfortable place to sit for breaks. I'm also getting a 22" flat panel monitor, along with new software, so I'm definitely the new kid on the block. I will soon be attending training classes to learn the new software programs.

I'm so thankful to be spending my days not only doing something I enjoy, but in a less-stressful environment than I've been in for the past few years. God has been very good to me.

Real Writer

Two weeks from now I'll be sitting at a company computer writing documentation for a line of medical diagnostic devices. This represents both the achievement of a life-long dream and the beginning of a new adventure in learning. I'm so excited!

Snafu or Serendipity?

I serve on the Executive Committee of the Northwest chapter of the American Medical Writers Association. We spent most of a year tweaking plans for the AMWA-NW Symposium, held each year at the beautiful Talaris Conference Center in Seattle's university district. As Treasurer, I dealt with the logistics of securing space, estimating head-count, and providing our speakers with needed support, including computer peripherals. There will always be a snafu or two, no matter how meticulous the preparation, but one was particularly ironic. A presenter spent the first half of the session trying to get her computer to interface with the projection unit we had provided. We secured another projector from Talaris with no better outcome. The name of the workshop? "Making Effective Presentations." Luckily, the presenter was finally able to work the problem out, noting that it might be wise to bring your own presentation equipment.

On the lighter side, the Executive Committee hosts a dinner at a nice restaurant for our guest speakers. We arrived at our destination on time and were the first of three large groups to be seated. Although we ordered first, we were the last group to be served. We enjoyed our time, reminiscent of a three-hour dinner stint on a cruise ship without the many courses. The restaurant manager was so apologetic that he laced our table with free desserts. We finished our evening sampling famous desserts with names as delightful as as they were delicious.

Speaking Out

Yesterday I learned that a letter I wrote to the editor of our local newspaper was published. I didn't think it would be, because my views are decidedly politically incorrect. This isn't the strongest view I've ever held, but it stands in stark contrast to most of what our local and national leadership had to say:

In the aftermath of the 32- victim shooting binge at Virginia Tech, cries are mounting to increase the scope of gun control laws. I question whether any gun restriction will keep a driven person from acquiring a gun. No open campus or business complex can provide enough security to keep everyone completely safe. My workplace cannot. Can yours? That Virginia Tech was a gun-free zone disarmed everyone except the killer.

One of the kindest, gentlest people I know is a grade-school teacher and nanny. She is an encouragement to everyone she meets, young and old. In three decades of friendship, I have never known her to offend anyone. It may come as a surprise that she has a concealed weapons permit, is well-trained in gun handling, and carries a revolver. Her experience of being threatened by violence years ago persuaded her to arm herself for protection. She is a threat to no one except those who would threaten harm, but I do not doubt that she would defend herself effectively.

If I were to find myself in such a threatening situation, I would rather be next to my friend— or someone like her— than in a gun-free zone.

The right time for writing

Today I applied for a writing gig I'd really like to have. So, I thought I might actually get this blog up and running. After decades of writing as a fulfilling sideline, I have found that medical writing fits me like a glove. Now that I truly know what I'd like to be when I grow up (not that God is finished with me yet), I'd like to make my living by being fully engaged in writing. Stay tuned, good news may be on the horizon.