Author: Denis Wilhelm

Be Watchful!

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In Advent we’re reminded to be watchful. That’s more challenging for some of us than others.

I’ve heard it said that there are three kinds of people: Those that make things happen. Those that watch things happen. And those that say, “What happened?” I mostly fall into that third category. I’m not exactly what you’d call ‘watchful’. I often step into someone else’s way (accidentally of course). I’ve been known to step on someone’s toes (literally and figuratively). Or I stumble over things. Or I speak over someone (sorry – I thought you were done talking). I usually don’t listen to warnings. And I NEVER read instructions (until AFTER I can’t get some stupid thing to work right).

So how can I be watchful? Am I hopeless? Maybe not.

Capture

I can pay better attention to those around me. I can SLOW DOWN and listen (really listen) to someone who needs to be heard. I can stop putting myself first – give a little more; take a little less. I can open my eyes to the heartache, suffering, injustice and cruelty in my world, neighborhood, and family. Conversely, I can see the goodness in others; look for joy in simple things; cherish blessings of peace and love in my midst. I can make myself available to those in need. I can allow myself to be vulnerable and acknowledge that I am also needy.

Basically, I could just stop being such an asshole.

Of course I know that this is not a beautiful, sacred image of preparing myself for Jesus’ coming at Christmas. In Advent we look at the coming of Christ in three distinct ways: His coming as an infant; His coming in our lives today; His final coming. I need help with the coming in my life today part. I can’t really embrace Jesus if I can’t embrace my fellow humans. And I can’t exactly blame the folks who aren’t standing in line to embrace me. So being watchful this Advent Season will require that I look in the mirror a time or two. And that I thank God for the patience of others.

Peace,

Denis

May he not come suddenly and find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to all: ‘Watch!'” Mark 13:36-37

Thankful on Thanksgiving and Beyond

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Gratitude anchors us to the present moment. What I’m thankful for today may not be what I was thankful for yesterday or what I may be thankful for tomorrow. Still for me, thankfulness requires that I slow down and think about my blessings.

thankfulRecently my spirituality group was encouraged to list our blessings and to reflect on what matters most to us and what matters least. I was the only one who didn’t mention God. Not that I don’t think that God is important, I just didn’t single him (her) out. Instead I chose to list experiences for which I was and am and will always be thankful.

In retrospect, I see God in each of these experiences. That’s kind of how God and I operate. We tend to sneak up on one another. I’m not a “God is my co-pilot” kind of guy. I’m more of a “Hey God, you still out there?” “Remember me?” kind of guy.

Because I have been blessed with being accepted as part of a group of prayerful and spiritual believers, I was given the opportunity to acknowledge my blessings and was reminded once again to be eternally grateful for this life of mine. My friends cover me with their faith when my doubt is hanging out!

So here’s my list:

  • Our wedding day – As the sunlight pouring through the windows framed Deb as she walked down the aisle.
  • The birth of our son Tyson – and realizing how startlingly he looked like me.
  • The birth of our daughter Bess – when I said to Deb, “A girl!” “What’d we do now?” And the nurse chided me because she thought I didn’t want a daughter. I was thrilled, I just wasn’t prepared for a daughter. Everyone (including the doctor) had said it was another boy.
  • The birth of our son Blake – How the young nurse assumed that Blake was our first child because in her words, “You seem so happy!” And of course, we were! 
  • On Bess’ wedding day when she squeezed my arm and said, “Thanks Dad for everything, I feel like a princess today.”
  • The time that we toured Westminster Abbey for hours with our 3-year-old granddaughter Charlise, with all its beauty and amazing history, while she sat contentedly in her stroller and then as we left and we crossed the River Thames and she pointed excitedly and said “water”. That moment was pure unadulterated joy!
  • Conversations with my Uncle Ted (Deb’s uncle actually) and always hearing him say just before we hung up “Love you Bud!” I miss him every day.
  • Grandson Noah’s birth – While looking through the nursery window with Travis and 2-year-old Anna as an old man in a wheelchair approached and asked Anna if that was her brother. He asked her “Do you think I could get a baby brother?” She said, “Yes, but not this one!” She claimed him from day one.
  • Living in England for a year and feeling like at any moment someone might come up to us and call us out as frauds or impostors because we were just a couple of small town Midwesterners making it up as we went along.
  • Being with my Aunt Gene near her death. Watching as a sense of peacefulness came over her. I will never forget the gentleness and love given her by her nurse. It took the fear of death away.
  • Being kissed goodnight and told I’m loved every single day.

So God has been there all along in each of these moments and countless many more. This Thanksgiving I am thankful. I was thankful before and will be thankful again. And again.

Peace,

Denis

 

 

It’s A Rainy Day

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“Save it for a rainy day”. We’ve all heard the expression. To put something aside to use in time of need or adversity. The maxim has been around since the 1500’s, when it was put as follows: ‘Wold he haue me kepe nothing against a raynye day?’ from “The Dictionary of Cliches” by James Rogers.

Today is a rainy day. And for me it’s time to let go of some of what I’ve been putting aside.

Another shooting. Another 26 lives lost. This time in a Baptist Church in a small town in Texas. The list of mass shootings in our country is exhaustive. The terrorist attack in Lower Manhattan which killed eight people was just last week. Our government is in a quagmire of allegations of corruption and misdeeds and deceit. Indictments will no doubt continue as this current administration appears to unravel. The Democratic National Committee is embroiled in its own alleged wrongdoings. Sexual harassment scandals have rocked the entertainment industry. Political parties are polarized and racial tensions seem at an all-time high. Natural disasters have taken immeasurable tolls in terms of lives and property in Puerto Rico, the Caribbean, Texas, California and Mexico.

Today is a rainy day. And I suppose that I have indeed been putting things away for this rainy day: Kindness. Caring. Generosity. Thoughtfulness. Humility. Love.

rainy dayI’ve been hording all the goodness in my life. Keeping it all to myself. Honestly I feel privileged because, in all this chaos, I have more happiness in my life than most others. I suppose I have been selfish. While grateful for my blessings, I often dismiss them as just a part of my good life. I sometimes forget how much I have been given. How truly blessed I am. I have a spouse that loves me and stands beside me through thick and thin. I have children and grandchildren who fill my heart with love beyond measure. And I have friends who walk this journey with me every day and carry me when I can’t go on.

My life is far from perfect but it is much more than I deserve.

I won’t bury my head in the sand and pretend that the world is not a dangerous place. But instead of griping about the latest political scandal or wringing my hands over my feeling of helplessness while so many suffer, I will try to remain positive. I will pray for those in need. I will lend a hand when and where I can.

I will be thankful, thoughtful, and kind. Because today is a rainy day and we all could use a little sunshine.

Peace,

Denis

 

 

 

 

 

Laffy Taffy

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Kids are inherently selfish. It doesn’t make them bad. It just makes them kids. When you’re small, your world is small. And what you have is yours – your toy, your bike, your candy. Often sharing is mandated. Children will be admonished to “share with your brother” or “share with your sister”. Usually the little miscreant will oblige but not always cheerfully. As parents, we try to remind our youngsters that sharing is ‘the right thing to do’.

But in a world full of selfish and self-centered adults, teaching kids to share seems a daunting task. ‘ME FIRST’ is the mantra of so many in our society that giving or sharing seems to be an antiquated idea. After all, how can I get ahead if I’m busy taking care of someone else? Why should I sacrifice any of my time, talent, or treasure to someone who hasn’t worked as hard as I have to achieve it?

In the United States the idea of the self-made man is iconic. Pulling one up by his (or her) own bootstraps is almost heroic. It is the quintessential American figure. But is any of us really able to do everything alone? Has no one else ever helped even the most successful (depending on what your definition of success might be) among us? I doubt it.

We all need one another. We all need to be helped from time to time. And we need to help others in return. Sharing is giving. Giving is helping.  So young parents, please keep reminding your kiddos. Make him share. Teach her to give. Model that same behavior.

laffy taffyI am encouraged because after school one day recently, my (almost) seven year-old grandson gave my wife a piece of Banana Laffy Taffy®.

Let me explain: In first grade if you’ve had a good week at school the teacher allows you to pick something from the candy jar. Noah loves candy but he also knows that his Nana loves Banana Laffy Taffy®.

So when it came time to choose, he chose unselfishly. He chose something for someone else. He ran excitedly up to her to present his treasure. He earned it. He deserved it. But he gave it up with love. And with tears brimming in her eyes she accepted his kindness.

I hope and pray that his small gesture is just the beginning of lifetime of sharing and giving to others. What an example he has given us. I remain humbled.

Peace,

Denis

Jesus said, “Let the children come to me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14

 

 

 

Sweating the Small Stuff

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How many times in my life have I heard someone say, “Don’t sweat the small stuff?” Usually it’s meant to comfort me when I feel anxious about something that appears to be trivial to another or offered as an excuse or permission to fail to meet some expectation not shared by the person offering the solace. And there are scores of books written about not sweating the small stuff. You can purchase wall plaques, pendants, caps, key fobs, T-shirts, etc., all emblazoned with the phrase.

There seems to be a universal assumption that little things don’t matter. That unless something has monetary or political or social significance, it is not worthy of our time. But I think that little things do matter. So I will continue to sweat the small stuff.Little things

After all, if the best things in life come in small packages then why not give them their proper attention and respect? The idiom, “The devil is in the details” implies that there is something hidden in the details; something that might seem simple at a first but will reveal itself to be more than expected.

I prefer the phrase “God is in the details”. The little things. Watching glimmering snowflakes cascading down from the sky. Taking a walk on a crisp fall day. The sweet smell of a summer rain. That first cup of coffee in the morning. A favorite book. Resting under a shady tree. Hearing a child’s laughter. Receiving a friendly smile. Or a soft touch. Or a kind word. Simple things perhaps but hidden inside each of these is comfort, joy and love. And I believe God is there, too.

So I’m sweating the small stuff. I will take the time to appreciate the details. I will hold the door for you. I will carry your load if you let me. I will set the table properly. I will use good penmanship. I will clean my house and mow my lawn. I will drive courteously. I will try to be a good citizen; a good neighbor; a good friend. I will say thank you and please and you’re welcome.

But more importantly I will say I love you. And I will say it again. And again. I want the gifts that I give to be wrapped literally and figuratively in all the beauty that I can muster. The gifts that I have to share may not be significant or of any financial value. In fact, in the grand scheme of things, my gifts are all just small stuff. But I will sweat them out. Anything less would have no meaning…

Peace,

Denis

 

Let Freedom Ring

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I love my country. I’m proud to be an American. Other countries are wonderful and my life has been enriched by having visited many of them, but they are not home. Home for me is Midwestern, friendly, small town, hard-working, fun-loving, flag-waving, hand-holding, good-timing folks who care about their neighbors, love their families, and lend a hand to those in need. We pray for one another. We celebrate our joys and share our sorrows.

Yesterday in the United States we celebrated Independence Day. And so our great nation celebrated another birthday. That’s right! Our country is great. It has ALWAYS been great. It doesn’t need to be made “Great Again”. Once great; always great! Even with a Commander-in-Chief who seems to possess the intellectual maturity of a six year-old, we remain a great nation. I’m sorry. That statement is actually an insult to most of the six year-olds that I know. We need not define ourselves as a nation by the lowest common denominator. Trump and many of his key policies are very unpopular around the globe, and ratings for the U.S. have declined steeply in many nations, according to polling by the Pew Research Center. However, America still wins praise from other nations for its people, culture and civil liberties. Therein lies our greatness.

Independence Day paradeI am a patriot. But sadly I’m afraid that patriotism has come to represent a pretty narrow political view by some. I don’t believe that God should bless America anymore than God should and does bless all nations. And yet I remain a patriot. To me this is the beauty of being an American. We are a pluralistic nation. We are richly diverse. We can disagree with one another. We can openly oppose the political views of elected officials and vote them out of office. We can peacefully assemble. We can protest. We have the right to freedom of speech and freedom of information.

So I even though I am a progressive and an avid supporter of civil rights and equality for all Americans I remain a patriot. I’ll keep waving my flag and honoring our great nation’s founders whose vision of liberty and justice for all remains with us today. And I will respect and embrace your unalienable right to think that I am completely wrong.

Because this is what we do in The Land of Liberty.

Peace,

Denis

Summer Makes Me Happy!

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Summer makes me happy! Sunshine. Blue skies. Lazy days. Swimming pools. Cool drinks. Baseball. Watermelon. Picnics. Patios. Snow cones. I love it all.

All the rules change in summer:

  • No school for the kiddos.
  • “Dressy casual” becomes more casual and less dressy at the office.
  • The sun stays up longer, so dinner can be something on the grill (or sometimes just hors d’oeuvres and cocktails).
  • Nature is in abundance – our gardens are in full bloom and the hummingbirds return.
  • Everything just feels a little lighter – a little more carefree.
  • Vacations (even a little road trip) can be a time to recharge our batteries and refresh our souls.

PoolWhen I was a boy times were simpler (or maybe our parents were naïve). But it seemed that we had lots of freedom and at least we felt safe. Certainly parents then didn’t have the fears that parents do today. We swam in creeks. We road our bikes EVERYWHERE. We drank from the garden hose and peed in the backyard. We played in open fields. We collected soda bottles and returned them to the A&P for the 2¢ deposit. My friends and I would save enough of the deposit money to buy a watermelon (the kind with seeds – the seedless ones hadn’t been invented yet) and we would cut it open on a summer day and gorge ourselves and spit the seeds on the ground. Perhaps that’s why summer makes me so happy. I can relive some of my youth with my grandkids. We can play ball in the backyard and eat watermelon and splash around in a wading pool.

I believe in our world today, more than ever, we could use some happiness. I certainly know that I could. I’m not “sticking my head in the sand” pretending that global warming isn’t real or ignoring the fact that millions go to bed hungry each night or forgetting that racial and social injustice are still rampant in our society. Searching for a little happiness won’t eliminate the political turmoil that currently has a stranglehold on our nation. But I need some summertime to help me put it all into perspective. I need a break from all the unhappiness. I need to play outside and run through the sprinkler and eat too many hotdogs and ice cream cones and LAUGH OUT LOUD.

Maybe then I can get back to the serious business of worrying and praying about all the things that make us so unhappy as a nation; as a community; as a neighborhood; as a family.

In the meantime, let’s be happy! At least for a little while…

Peace,

Denis

Fledglings

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This spring a cardinal made her nest in the hydrangea tree in our front yard. We’ve been on “bird watch” since I first discovered the nest with four tiny eggs. Momma bird would sit quietly on the nest until I got too close and then she would fly away chirping (actually squawking) until I moved away from her brood.

birdsA week or so ago the first egg hatched, followed by two more the following day. The fourth egg never hatched. I guess, such is nature. At first the three baby birds were just all eyes and beaks and fluff. Always with their necks outstretched, waiting for momma bird to deliver some sustenance. Momma bird would fly from rooftop to tree to ground and back and then do it all over again and again. She would pull worms from the ground and return to the nest only to fly away again in constant pursuit of food for her young.

birdYesterday as I was looking into the nest, two of the babies jumped out! Then on to a branch and then onto the ground. Momma cardinal became hysterical. The squawking and flapping and flying around was startling to say the least. It was as if she was sounding an alarm. And indeed she had. Soon daddy cardinal was on the scene. Both appeared to be searching for their timid youngsters who had taken shelter in the rose and holly bushes in our front garden. They were like tiny sentries on guard. Desperately struggling to protect their young from what might lie ahead. This morning the nest was empty save for the un-hatched egg. The fledglings have officially “flown the coop”.

All this nature-watching has made me keenly aware of how time marches on. We all were once fledglings who had to brave the unknown. Some of us might have jumped from the nest and others of us might have been nudged. Regardless we somehow found ourselves in unfamiliar terrain dealing with the unimaginable.

As a parent I remember feeling woefully unprepared when my son left for Air Force Basic Training. There was so much more that I needed to teach him! How could the little boy who wore Velcro® tennis shoes to kindergarten (because he hadn’t yet learned to tie his shoes) be prepared to defend our nation? When I walked my beautiful daughter down the aisle on her wedding day I couldn’t help but think of the little girl who I had seemingly held in my arms just days before. And when our youngest son left for University my heart ached with a sense of dread that I had become obsolete. Fledglings three!

And there I was, a daddy cardinal squawking and flapping my wings. Frantic and slightly hysterical. Perhaps more afraid of what was coming my way than what might lie ahead for my baby birds.

But time and experience have taught me that those bittersweet “fledgling moments” are just part of the journey. Life goes on. And usually gets better. My kids still need me. And while I don’t need to provide protection from the unknown, I am still called upon for sage advice from time to time.

Capture.PNGNow we have five grandchildren aged 12 to 1. Our beautiful baby Gwen turns one year old today. She’ll have her own “fledgling moments” soon enough as will her sisters and her cousins. I just hope I’m around to squawk and flap my wings as needed when the time comes.

Peace,

Denis

 

 

Manners Without Kindness Is Unkind

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While our kids were growing up we often asked, “What do you say?” Which was to elicit the correct ‘thank you’ or ‘please’ or ‘I’m sorry’ response. Most parents probably remind their youngsters to say “thank you” or say “please” and hopefully good manners will never go out of style.

CaptureBut manners without kindness seem artificial and insincere. Think: Eddie Haskell or Nellie Olson. Hideous creatures who spoke sweetly but never lovingly. Saying “may I please” and “thank you” are hollow gestures if there is no true appreciation or respect being offered.

I smile (and cringe a little) while remembering a time that our son was guilty of some offense inflicted on his sister. When I insisted he apologize, he declared with exasperation, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” No – he wasn’t sorry. And no – he didn’t feel any remorse. Well maybe he was sorry because he got scolded but no real apology was extended to his sister. So I failed as a parent. I failed to teach him that saying the words without meaning them was wrong. And I am sorry about that. I suppose I should apologize to my kids for focusing on the manners and not the behavior all those years ago but that episode enlightened me. I stopped trying to be so concerned that THE RIGHT WORDS were being used and instead tried to focus on the feelings. Again, in full disclosure, I failed at this more often than I care to remember. But I tried.

Sadly many adults were probably once children whose parents taught them how to use good manners but failed to teach them why to use good manners. Sometimes I encounter folks who are polite and mannerly but just under the surface you can feel the contempt or the disregard that they have for others. The formalities in business and social settings require that we remain civil and courteous at all times but the indifference, the malice, the antagonism, and the prejudice is often palpable.

Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate good manners, courtesy and respect. At times I’m frightened that in our “me first” society manners have become passé. And the only way to ‘get ahead’ is to ‘jump ahead’. We live in a world where we put our own needs and desires first regardless of who we must step on to get what we want.

Still, politeness with no real consideration intended for the individual is just dishonest. As far as I’m concerned it’s even worse when the insincerity of manners is somehow an excuse for taking advantage of others. A formality that carries no thought of human kindness or attentiveness is just a meaningless action. I know that I am guilty of offering empty manners. I’m certain that I have held the door open or waited my turn grudgingly. There is no doubt that I have casually said “how are you?” countless times without really wanting to hear how anyone was. I say “thank you” and “you’re welcome” robotically, not even making eye contact with the person at the market or service counter. While learning my manners, I may have forgotten the most important thing – kindness.

Kindness doesn’t require undying affection or even mild appreciation. Kindness doesn’t mean that you and I have to agree on anything. Kindness isn’t a guarantee that we will ever be friends. But kindness requires selflessness and sincerity and connection.

Manners are nice but please save the pretty words and just show me that you care. And I’ll try to do the same.

Peace (and you’re welcome),

Denis

P.S. Here’s a song to lighten the mood.

Letting Go of Stuff

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I have to admit that I get attached to things. My favorite old sweater. My ink pen with the Air Force logo. My car “Max” that carried me on my way for 160,000+ miles. My Denny’s® coffee cup that kept my coffee at just the right temperature on my desk. My, my, my, mine. And this might be the problem with my stuff. It’s mine. It’s all about me. What I want. What I need. What makes me happy.

So I’m trying to let go. Some by choice; some by need; some unplanned.

Max was dying a slow death as many 12 year-old cars will do – transmission trouble, oil and other assorted leaks, failing to sometimes start, etc., etc. I traded in Max for a newer model (which I like) but I still felt a sense of loss as Max sort of limped away to the auto auction lot.

cupMy favorite coffee cup was recently broken by the cleaning crew in my office. The appropriate apology and offer of replacement was extended but somehow it doesn’t seem enough. They’ll never be able to replace a 20 year-old Denny’s® cup that my sister gave me. I’m afraid my coffee will never quite taste the same. That cup gave me comfort and a sense of connection.

Again, this unhealthy attachment to things is giving me pause. I need to let go. I must let go. I will let go.

How many times have I held on to stuff that I haven’t really needed? How often have I valued property over people? Stuff over relationships? “Loved” things???

My granddaughter Charlise’ middle name is Clare. And I’ve been reading about Saint Clare and how she followed Francis of Assisi’s example and gave away all her earthly possessions. Clare had been born to a wealthy Roman family but walked away from her life of luxury to join a religious order. Devoted to serving the poor and living a simple life the order of nuns would ultimately become known as the Poor Clares.

I’m not ready to give away all my stuff. But I’m trying desperately to place less value on things. I don’t need the newest gadgets or the latest fashions or the fanciest cars or the finest furniture. I’m going to try to live more simply. I’ve seen too many families torn apart fighting over stuff while trying to settle an estate. I’ve witnessed greed and selfishness and neither are easy to look at. I know that I have more than I need. So wanting more stuff seems foolish and sinful.

I’ll never be a saint like Clare or Francis. And you can’t have my Air Force pen! But maybe if I remove some of the clutter from my life I’ll be able to see more clearly what truly matters. It’s okay to have things but I’m going to try to give more and ask for less. Because I believe that less may be more.

Peace,

Denis

If someone who has worldly means sees a brother in need and refuses him compassion, how can the love of God remain in him? 1 John 3:17