You can bet this week will be just what you were looking for, even if you are not aware of what you are looking for!

May 10, 2025

Musings

I would venture to say that if you never think about your life and what it meant as you reach some level of the golden age for you, you are empty inside. This is not done to the stage of dwelling on the subject because that is a sickness of its own. I might set the bar at some type of melancholy reminiscing or even “musing” might be a better term.

I came across a quote this morning and it seemed to summarize one of my musings the other day. Actually, it was the day I was trying to take a shortcut to the two trails on my map that finishes the streets in Duarte. Do not ask me why two trails in the mountains, above Duarte and possibly Monrovia are “streets”, but they are.

The shortcut turned out to be a little over 5 miles and it was 98% uphill. I stubbornly kept going even though I had the song, “Turn Back”, (I don’t know if there is a real song by that name), but I was singing my version over and over, When I got to the part of the trail where the red nodes were on my map, I continued on, covered that part of the trail, and turned around for home at 5.3 miles.

I could barely walk when I arrived back at the car. A trip that started out with high hopes, a bobcat walking in front of my car as I was preparing to leave the car for the trail, ended with me barely doing the famous Peterson crawl on all fours the last 3 miles. (I am going to invest in a knee pad company)

I had a feeling something was off and sure enough, my map showed the red nodes along the trail above Mount Bliss, but they stopped before the trail reached White Saddle. And when I arrived back home and synced the watch, which died as mile 8.5, (even the watch couldn’t handle this battle of flesh agasint the hill), I found there were more red nodes on the map! I basically did that torture run for about 1/3 of a mile, when I needed another two miles! So, now I have to go do it all over again or sneak in through the Monrovia entrance, which seems to have been closed for more than 5 years now, in order to get the city of Duarte completed on my map.

So one of the musings on this trip, which were many at 45 minute miles, was the meaning, (maybe more in an accusatory and questioning voice), was why the Lord forced me to be hanging around on planet earth when I could be enjoying the trails in heaven, (there will be trails, I am sure), without the pain. Of course this led to what I had offered while here in human form.

And to my amazement, I read this quote this morning from Nelson Mandela:

“What counts in life is not the mere fact that we have lived. It is what difference we have made to the lives of others that will determine the significance of the life we lead.”

Now I have to go start my “musings” all over again. And maybe get busy these last few golden years to make up for lost time.

May 12, 2025

Who Won?

I have always wondered how anyone could sit there with a blank screen and have no idea what to put on it. I “always” have something to put on there, even if the ending has nothing to do with the beginning.

I opened the word processor this morning and sat there staring at the blank screen for a few moments. Well, maybe for more than a few moments. Now, don’t get your panties in a bunch, thinking I had fallen into the abyss with all the other screen starers. I had a thought to get started but was overcome by all the negative compilations that would automatically arise. So, I argued with Roy about what was on my mind and why wasn’t I shouting: “Forward, March”, and get on with it.

You can’t tell me you have never argued with yourself. The interesting thing about arguing with yourself is that either you are like Shirley Ardell Mason, who was also Sybil Isabel Dorsett, Peggy Lou Baldwin, Peggy Ann Baldwin, Mary Lucinda Saunders Dorsett, Marcia Lynn Dorsett, Vanessa Gail Dorsett, Mike Dorsett, Sid Dorsett, Nancy Lou Ann Baldwin, Sybil Ann Dorsett, Ruthie Dorsett, Clara Dorsett, Helen Dorsett, Marjorie Dorsett, Vicky, and Sybil, or you are like me, in reality one person, that when you argue with yourself, you win no matter which side of the noggin comes out on top.

Luke 8:26ff and Mark 5 tell the story of the man named “Legion” because he had many evil spirits. It is interesting to me that Shirley had a few male characters mixed in with all those female characters. It does not tell us the gender of the demons in Legion but by the way they acted, I would suppose they were male, (a sexist would say). My argument this morning with Roy was an all male argument.

I don’t know if you know that the whole Sybil story turned out to be made up so Dr. Wilbur, the therapist treating Shirley, could write a book on multiple personalities. A prominent elderly psychiatrist who treated Shirley when Dr, Wilbur was out of town exposed the plot. Supposedly, Shirley was traumatized by her mother’s sadistic treatment, discovered through drugs and hypnosis, which Dr, Wilbut had helped Shirley to concoct during her meetings with Shirley. The progression from the original story as it entered the world, a book and movie were a result, caused a whole cottage industry to spring up.

Many people entered therapy because they thought they had multiple personalities because of their treatment while young, eventually suing their parents, leading to therapists being sued. A merry-go-round where the getting off meant you were going to sue the ones still on the merry-go-round and then get back on for another trip around the courtroom. Round and Round she goes, where she stops, no one knows. I wonder if it is still going on somewhere today?

Well, I am not going to see any therapist to help me win arguments against myself. I hope you are in the same boat with me concerning your arguments with yourself. But, there are people who can claim the legion throughout the history of civilization, even up through today. I met some of them while at the mission and while doing all the streets on my city strides map. If you have ever left the comfort of your couch to see what is going in the world, you have also, whether you knew it not.

The answer for them is to have the demons cast out, which is another page waiting to get words on it. I know I have mentioned it before about the first time a man came to me at the Mission with a bottle, saying he had caught an evil spirit and it was in the bottle, while handing it to me. Maybe I will have to revisit that adventure some day.

While at the Union Mission, one of the other chaplains, (George Caywood), and I came up with an answer to the question, “How are you doing?” It came from Mark 5:15 and Luke 8:35, which was after the demons left the man named Legion, i.e., “I am clothed and in my right mind.” I have used it on occasion since my days at the Mission and received a blank stare from the questioner. For the record, not everyone has always agreed that I am in my right mind. Therre are times they think I am in my left mind, you know, the one that left.

So I don’t know which side won my argument with Roy this morning, but someone did as there are a few spaces filled in on the blank paper. The thought I was going to start with was, “The morning after”. You can be the referee and declare the winner.

May 14, 2025

RUTS

I have threatened, on more than one occasion and too many to count, that I was going to get me a recorder so I could record my thoughts as I was running or even while walking Joshua. I have told the story of John Woods probably more than one time when I was attempting to fill a page with something that made sense and was not completely nonsensical. And telling his story here would be an illustration of what my thought process was manufacturing this morning as Joshua and I went round and round about how long he could stay at one place and wear out his sniffer.
As we made our way around the route he was choosing to take me, I was thinking how boring it could be to be a part of a family where all you got to do was sleep in your favorite spot, eat at the same bowl 2 or 3 times a day, slurp up some water from the same bowl throughout each 24 hour period, and either poop in the small patio, (if your family was mean and cared nothing about exercise or cleanliness), or on a route you traverse a couple of times a day.
Joshua has been a companion on many of my attempts to cover the San Gabriel streets, some trails, and just generally taking a walk in the park, so to speak. He loves the outdoors and sometimes will try to head the other way when he notices we are getting close to the turn for home. He does not have any reason to turn away from home as far as more deposits to make, but he acts like he does so we will make one more trip around his route of choosing. There were times we arrived back at the car when we were doing the streets, he knew we were at the car, but he kept right on two-stepping past the car, hoping I would not notice we were at the car. Little did he know, I had been measuring the distance since the car appeared on the horizon.
At first, I was thinking about the rut we made on our daily trips on the concrete jungle where we had to put out feet and paws. Think of a single track trail or what it was like when the wagons went down the dirt roads on the way to town and wore the dusty trail into two ruts where the wheels worked their magic.
I thought about how opposed to ruts I am that it has affected many areas of my life. While working at the Mission, I had to give the message when a church was a no show for the evening service on my night to work. You haven’t lived until you are preaching to a room full of men who call the message an “ear-banging” so they can get to the vittles on the other side of the wall.
The added incentive to get to the vittles was, if you came forward at the end of the message, you could eat first, maybe get more on your plate, not be rushed so the sesond and third wave of eager eaters can get their seat, and maybe even get on the program for a period of time while resting up before entering the wild wild west out there on Main Street for one more round.
The idea that I had to give the same invitation every time, which sometimes included closing the service for the church because they were all newbies and had no idea what they signed up when the pastor reached into his suitcase and came out with the sermon for all the Christians to go into all the world to make disciples and they were to start on skid row, gave me fits. Right or wrong, I could not give the same 10 words over and over and feel like I was honoring the Lord in my position as I believed He was asking more of me.
I knew it was Him Who was going to do the real work, but I did not want to be a part of the rut where the same guys raised their hand, came forward, I made the same plea for them to see tomorrow differently, they went off to eat, and we did it all over again the next day. That is a rut that only seems to get deeper and deeper and eventually, neither the guys or I can get out of it because the walls are so high. I started becoming the chaplain who spoke with you after coming forward and no more eating first. That leveled the playing field pretty quick. The churches did not like it that there were times no one came forward and I was asked by the director why my numbers of saved converts did not match the other chaplains. I basically told him my repeat numbers were way better than the other chaplains and wound up on the Sunday shift, which typically had more no show churches than the other days. But my rut was pretty shallow and did not deepen over the years. There are other parts to the story and maybe they will appear some day on a future Grist page.
While starting Door of Hope, I was honored to preach on almost all of the churches in Northwest Pasadena, which were predominately black at the time. I believe I had some great messages and some stinker messages, but who knows, they could have all been stinkers. I do know the Charismatic Churches were a lot easier to get going at 100 miles an hour, rather than the ones where “Rock of Ages” was sung at 1 mile an hour. I think I only saw one person in all my days actually try to do that rolling down the aisle thing, but I witnessed lots of ladies having their legs covered with a blanket after they fell backwards into the arms of the one doing the catching when the fell out.
The point out of this concerning the ruts, is, I could not be one of those preachers who had a mega church and gave 3 sermons on Sunday, which was a part of what I worked on while dragging Joshua through the rut he chose this morning. There were not many times it happened, but I did have to give more than one message on some Sundays. I would give a variation on the first sermon, or even a completely different message using a different passage. It is hard enough to come up with a sermon for Sunday if you want to honor the Lord and preach something that would be pleasing to Him and honor the pulpit. Anyone can take a passage, make a 3 point sermon, ask for a rasing of the hands, and go home with an automatic deposit in the bank for your efforts. But is that what the Lord called you to do when leading the flock? I think not. But day in and day giving the same message is a grind and it becomes an easy way out to walk in that rut you made and possibly feel comfortable in because you know where the holes are and can step around. You know where they are when it is raining because they are filled with water.
So, if one hate ruts, one has to make a choice in many areas of their life. Obviously, going to work at the same job for 40 years can cause a deep rut. For some reason, I think of the Michael Douglas movie, “Falling Down”. Probably not applicable to everyone, but must be for at least one reader. Anyway, I wonder if ruts can be a good thing. Maybe for those who hate change. But I have nevre been a fan of that is way we do it because it is always the way we have done it. Doesn’t mean you have to make a change, but for me, ruts should be the first choice only when it makes sense, e.g., the route to work makes sense to go the same way each time.
I see I have moved far afield from where I went while walking with Joshua. You would not know that other than me telling you. That is what happens when I start putting a few vowels and consonants on a page, probably because I want to stay out of the rut I made while walking Joshua.