Category: Living Daily

Homeless. . .

Once and a while I check Fox. Mostly it’s about the coup-by-impeachment attempt in Washington. Yesterday an easy-to-miss article with comments by a Fox medical consultant talked about San Francisco’s crisis of Homelessness. “Isn’t it ironic that a city of germaphobes, of exercise-conscious, environmentally conscious [people] … are now in a city that’s awash in human waste, which is spreading hepatitis A outbreaks every year,” Siegel said on “Tucker Carlson Tonight” Tuesday. “Big outbreaks of hepatitis A, rats in the streets feeding off of the garbage in sewage, typhus, typhoid fever, rotten bacterial infections and even the plague may be coming,” the consultant said.

In Medford, OR, there are more and more homeless. My daughter, who lives there, said that many are arriving by bus from Portland, OR. The remedy for homelessness in Portland is for the city to buy a bus ticket for homeless people who are picked up by police. Apparently it all started with Seattle, according to my daughter, where the homeless were sent from Washington State across the state line into Portland, OR. The situation, it seems to me, is without a viable solution, but shipping folks out isn’t even a good attempt at one. Another approach had been practiced in Austin, TX. It became such a haven that homeless flocked there for the food, which as plentiful. The cardboard shelters became such a menace, and the mayor did nothing but offer more food, that the governor of Texas sent in road crews to remove the squalid mess. Still not a good solution–IMHO. One city is now spending something like $20,000 on each shelter that will allow four homeless to sleep out of the cold. The shelters line the public streets. Another not-so-good solution, not to mention ridiculously expensive. $20,000 for a tent? Only a politician would think that a good solution. And then I read somewhere that there’s the town forcing residents to allow homeless to sleep in their yards. Really? Is that a viable solution.

A few year ago, over in Athens, GA, there was a small community of homeless people. Mostly living in cardboard shacks, they self-policed themselves. They somehow managed to have outdoor latrines, the kind used at constructions sites that must be emptied. And somehow they were emptied, too. They were not a problem until sub-developments encroached upon land on which they were squatting. Like how we expand and expand the urban sprawl and drive out the wildlife, they ended up having to drive out the homeless community.

There are many homeless that live in cars, trucks, or RVs. They park often in public parking spaces, or in office parking, and move regularly. There is an “organization” devoted to informing these types of homeless people on the best places to crash (as in sleep) and other advice. Out in the desert, near the Salten Sea in California, an abandon Air Force base has large cement slabs still remaining near the old run way. RVs set up a fairly large self-policing community. This community, like the one in Athens was, isn’t a threat to anyone. The people don’t hang around looking for handouts on city streets, don’t cause business men and women to cringe in fear as they try to get to their offices.

San Luis Obispo, CA, (fondly referred to as San Luis or just SLO)had been a model for how to respond to situations that came up. When a shopping plaza was allowed to go in outside of town–various companies needed big box buildings, more space, and downtown didn’t offer that at all–the city stepped up to prevent the demise of the downtown, like had happened in so many other towns. San Luis started a Farmer’s Market night, closed the streets, and had a huge party. Businesses didn’t die. SLO eventually grew to have an even nicer downtown and still have that plaza outside of town, and even a few more small ones.

SLO also had a novel approach to homeless people. There was a small Christian commune outside of town. It was built with old military barracks that were disassembled and reassembled on acreage. When sheriff deputies and city police came across mentally disturbed people that didn’t qualify for lock up, or committing, they dropped them off at the Commune. Same with homeless. When the commune dissolved, the city closed a rural campground and bussed the homeless out of town each night, bringing them back during the day.

Some towns do better at finding reasonable solutions, not perfect, but reasonable, accommodating not only the “offender” but those who are tax-paying residents.

I’ve been praying about homelessness for awhile now. It began in praying for homeless veterans, and veterans with PTSD, the wounded, and those having a hard time reentering America’s face-paced culture. Eventually my prayer expanded to homelessness in general.

How might a Believer view homeless people and the entire crisis of homelessness? Perhaps a bit of Bible perspective is one place to begin.

And a scribe came up and said to him, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.” And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” (Matthew 8:19,20)

Yeshua said that He had “nowhere to lay his head.” Sounds homeless, doesn’t it?

It seems to me homelessness isn’t one specific “thing” that can be “solved” with one approach. The person with diminished mental capacity or mental disorder is very different than a person who is laid off, or works for minimum wages, and simply can’t pay the high rent for even an apartment. There are people with a vehicle or boat that they can sleep in, and others who have nothing more than a few blankets or a sleeping bag. I’ve met people who are willing to work if work is available, and I’ve met people who refuse to work even if it is offered. I imagine that there are folks out there that might work but no longer believe anyone wants them, would take them.

Looking at homelessness from it’s individual trigger might help. What triggered a person to end up on the streets? Loss of a job is an easy one understand. Some might find it difficult to understand how a person could intentionally walk away from home and family and live on the streets. Some people simple no longer can cope with their lives. They are like the haunted. They run. PTSD, with or without a recognizable cause.

Once on the road it becomes difficult to maintain the ties to society that we, I think, take for granted. For instance, when it is time to renew a driver license, what address is used? It seems to me that it doesn’t take long before a person becomes disenfranchised. Once out, how does a person get back in?

Several months ago my daughter that lives with us, and is already twenty-two, looked for an apartment. She found several she could afford on her salary, but not one would even accept an application. All required a salary of three to four times the rent. Not to mention that she at least has a current address. On the streets, no current driver license, no address, a person is really out.

“Hey, get a job!” It’s an easy thing to yell at someone standing on the corner with a cardboard sign saying, “Hungry. Need a dollar.” Or something like that. The disenfranchised aren’t going to wake up one morning, walk into the bathroom, shower, dress in clean clothing, and head out the door to find a job.

If you know more about homelessness, please share it.

Having lived in a 14 foot travel trailer for two years, while working, I do have some, albeit limited, experience with one form of homelessness. 

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Simchat Torah- 2018

Today is Simchat Torah ( שמחת†תורה†), Joy of the Torah, of which John Parson, writes,

“This holiday marks the completion of the Torah reading cycle for the year. Simchat Torah is based on the “hakhel gathering” ( הַקְהֵל†) commanded by God in the Torah: “At the end of every seven yearsat the set time in the year of release, at the Feast of Sukkot ( בְּחַג†הַסֻּכּוֹת†), when all Israel comes to appear before the LORD your God … you shall read this Torah before all Israel in their hearing. Assemble ( הַקְהֵל†) the people, men, women, and little ones, and the sojourner within your towns, that they may hear and learn to fear the LORD your God, and be careful to do all the words of this Torah” (Deut. 31:10-12).”

Sitting on the deck yesterday as I began writing this post, looking out into the wooded area where the pines are beginning to shed their inner needles, preparing for winter, I thought over this entire season. It begins with a shofar blast on New Year, which is a call to us all. The shofar is a rams horn, that reminds us of the ram that took the place of Issac. (Click link for reference.)

This season calls to us to pray, to look within ourselves, to be prepared for the Day of Atonement. Are we to be found among the goats or the sheep? Are we in a right relationship with G-D? Are we in a right relationship with our other people? It is a season of repentance and rejuvenation. It is a season that concludes with the Feast of Succoth, in which we are called to remember that we, during our lives on Earth, live but a temporal life. It reminds us of the time Israel spent in the desert after its exodus from Egypt.

The last day of Sukkoth is Simchat Torah. YeshuaJesus celebrated this Feast, as described by Apostle John in chapter seven.

On the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood up and cried out, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, asf the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” (John 7:37,38)

YeshuaJesus would have heard read the last two chapters of Deuteronomy and Genesis chapter one through chapter 2, verse 3. (Click on link to read this Simchat Torah reading.)

The first section of the reading is Moses’s final blessing upon the children of Israel. Deuteronomy concludes with Moses going to “Mount Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, which is opposite Jericho.” There G-D shows him the land Israel is being given, the land that Joshua will lead Israel into as its possession. Moses is only allowed to see the land, but not cross the Jordan, not enter the land of Israel. Moses sinned against the Lord. He “broke faith with me in the midst of the people of Israel at the waters of Meribah-kadesh, in the wilderness of Zin, and because you did not treat me as holy in the midst of the people of Israel.For you shall see the land before you, but you shall not go there, into the land that I am giving to the people of Israel.” (Deuteronomy 32:51,51)

As John Parson puts it, the scroll is rewound and we begin reading from Genesis, the story of G-D creating the world, and all that is in it.

Early this morning two cats were creating havoc, making noise in the living room. I got up to see what the commotion was about, only to find them chasing a mouse. I sat for a while drinking a cup of tea and thinking about Creation. After a creative event, the passages state that “G-D saw that it was good.” Once G-D created the first humans, He “saw everything that He had made, and behold, it was very good.”

I began to think how many times I’d sit in the garden and look out over the ponds, to the yard and into the woods and think of all the things that still need to be done. Trimming, tending, fertilizing. And there’s the pile of tree limbs I trimmed late last Spring that I still need to burn. . . If I don’t ignore it, it consumes by prayer time, my Garden Time. Contrast that attitude with G-D’s who surveyed all He’d done and saw that “It Was Very Good.” Didn’t G-D know there’d be more that needed doing? Didn’t G-D know the fragility of that pair of humans He’d created? They’d need a lot of care to be able to survive in the world outside of the Garden. G-D knew He kick them out for their rebellion against Him. He had a plan. Yet He looked out over the expanse of the world and saw its goodness, its rightness.

When I came back to bed, walking through the living room, I looked with a different set of eyes at some photographs on the wall. I’d walked by them thousands of time, but ignored them. They are of houses with blue shutters, taken on a trip to Siberia twenty years ago. They are beautiful. I looked around the dimly lite room, and though how lovely the room is. I didn’t see the dust on the furniture, the pillows pushed of the sofa–our ill mannered dog thinks she needs to stretch out the whole length of the couch.

It seems I can get so caught up in all that “needs” to be done, and simply not be grateful for the blessings that are around me.

 

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Pigs and Wild Boars; Worms and Butterflies

Not long ago I read an article about Texas’s efforts to eradicate, or at least reduce, the wild boar population. It’d gotten way out of hand, and regular hunter-led efforts had not worked. Primarily, hogs root and destroy the landscape. Their rooting also creates hazards to people and other animals. Hogs are also not native to Texas.

Here in Georgia, I’m told many of the wild hogs were at one time domesticated pigs that got loose. Once a pig gets back into its nature environment, it grows its tusk back, and returns to its viral, wild nature.

“We have found tht hog rings are usually the only thing that will stop a hog from rooting,” wrote Linn in a post on the Homesteading Today forum.

A ring in the snout prevents rooting. It restrains the natural inclinations of a pig. Remove the ring. . . Yup! It roots. A pig is just a better-behaved wild thing.

“And since they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them up to a debased mind to do what ought not to be done. They were filled with all manner of unrighteousness, evil, covetousness, malice. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, maliciousness. They are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless. Though they know God’s righteous decree that those who practice such things deserve to die, they not only do them but give approval to those who practice them. (Apostle Paul wrote to the Roman, 1:24-32)

There are a type of worm that grows on a leaf, surrounded by a crusty shell. Eventually, it hatches and begins to eat the leaf to which it was attached. It eats. It eats. It eats. Once the leaf is nearly destroyed, it gets sleepy, gathers about it a slimy covering, and rests for a while. The worm changes. It breaks through its cocoon, eats it, and spreads its gorgeous wings, pumps them up, and flies away. It is now a beautiful butterfly.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born againbhe cannot see the kingdom of God.”  Nicodemus said to him, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” Gospel of John 3:3-8)

 

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Contemplation

On the glorious splendor of your majesty,

and on your wondrous works, I will meditate.

(Ps 145:7)

A Deck with a View

The word for which I’m looking is Contemplation. Yesterday evening, on the way to Cutter’s, a local lounge, to listen to a jazz ensemble, I struggled with a word that is more acceptable than meditate and yet more adequately describes what I’ve come to refer to as my Garden Times. Earlier in the day I’d sat on the deck staring at the trees in the woods. I thought that if I were to awaken with no knowledge of G-D, I’d look at the trees and they would point to Him. Apostle Paul said as much.

This “thinking” on the deck is more than mere thought, however. But meditating is a word with connotations of emptying oneself and opening oneself up to some Universe Power. Meditating is occasionally referred to as letting go of one’s “monkey mind” and of “becoming one with the Universe.” Neither is my intent, nor is simply thinking.

Perhaps this deep thought might be called prayer in a Christian Church. Yet prayer is so ambiguous. It can mean so many different things. Reading a Psalm is considered prayer to a Jewish man praying Psalm 145 in the morning. Then there are the “Prayers of the People” in an Episcopal and a Roman Catholic Church service in which the priest reads a list of items and the congregation speaks a liturgical response after each item on the list. Prayer is often just humans speaking to G-D as children recite the Pledge of Allegiance at school.

Neither meditation nor prayer do justice to experiencing G-D’s presence in contemplation. That’s the best word for my Garden Times. “On the glorious splendor of your majesty and on your wondrous works, I will contemplate.” I will contemplate the glorious splendor of G-D’s majesty. I will contemplate G-D’s wondrous works. I will hear G-D’s response and prompting and perhaps catch a glimpse of Him. I shall be as the women who sought to but touch the hem of Yeshua’s garment. I will, like Job, hear G-d say He will ask a question and require my response. I might hear G-D say something to which I might, like Abraham, respond boldly with “don’t be angry, but might Your servant ask just one thing more?” I want to cry aloud, as King David:

We have thought on your steadfast love, O G-d,

in the midst of your temple.

As your name, O G-d,

so your praise reaches to the ends of the earth.

Your right hand is filled with righteousness.

Let Mount Zion be glad!

Let the daughters of Judah rejoice

because of your judgments!

(Psalm 48:9, 10, 11)

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Klip in Die Bos

Looking at other blogs in which Christian and Christianity is mentioned or is the topic, I ran across Nan’s Notebook. She posted an article with the title If you are a Christian. . . in which she relates and speaks about a comment she ran across in another blog: “I experienced a slow and somewhat painful internal struggle to accept that I don’t believe in God anymore. When I finally did, I felt free, like I could finally learn to accept who I was.”

Her post started a long sting of comments. 193 comments.

I commented:

Too many years ago now I enjoyed many conversations with a fellow from Australia, then residing in California. We didn’t discuss ‘religion’ per say, but simply talked about life and how we each saw it from a different perspective. He was not a Believer. I am. Yet we shared so much in common, and enjoyed each other’s company.

It seems to me that one of the most difficult things Believers and those who do not can do is simply appreciate each other, both similarities and differences without trying to change one another.

Nan, you and I could sit in a cafe and in similar manner converse with one another and enjoy ourselves. I appreciate you. I sense a kindness and gentle sincerity that comes from your heart.

Shalom.

As a reader of JonahzSong, you’ve experienced my life through various stories. Most of them I’ve attempted to bring an article—a post—to a Messiah-focused conclusion. I don’t think I make any bones about it, I believe in YeshuaJesus. As I’ve been “reconstructing” JonahzSong, I’m attempting to focus on Setting Sail for an Abundant Life.

Yet, in my comment to Nan, I say that she and I could sit in a cafe and have a conversation and enjoy ourselves. One might wonder if that isn’t a contradiction. One might wonder if I am, after all, a hypocrite.

You tell me. I really welcome your comments. For as I’ve said before, I question things. I question myself. I don’t have the answers. Yes, I know Who does. And our L-RD seems to allow use to search for them.

A short vignette illustrates my view, I think.

One evening, walking across a park in Jerusalem, I came upon two men talking.

“Brother, tell this man about Jesus,” one man called to me.

I approached to men and immediately notice the man who was speaking to the one who summoned me wore a kippa. He was Jewish. There were a few other things said as I stood before the men. And finally I responded.

“I can not to that. My brother,” I said referring to the Jewish man, ” has not asked me. I cannot impose myself upon him.”

The Christian who’d called to me seemed upset, and finally went on his way to “witness” to someone else. I was left standing with the Jewish man.

“I’d like you to meet my rabbi,” he said. He invited me to his synagogue.

 

While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and sinners came and ate with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’[a] For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”

Matthew 9:10-17 (NIV)

L-RD Bless, Keep, Shine upon you and give you a heart for truth and mercy.

Klip in Die Bos:Pastor Thabo, in South Africa, occasionally uses the Afrikaans term that means something like tossing a stone into the brush and seeing what pops out.

Along the Way

Along the way, on what is often called the path of life, I’ve met a lot of incredible people. I admire them all so very much. A few became friends that I reconnect with now and then. Mostly, though, I’ve met men and women and simply shared a moment just chatting a bit, and each of us headed of to our own destinations.

A fellow I met in Sacramento, long ago, comes to mind. He told me how he’d become a mentor. He said his wife thrust him into the role after asking the pastor of their church what it meant to be a mentor.

“Someone that’s made a lot of mistakes,” he said, “and is willing to share them.”

“That’s my husband,” she exclaimed.

That’s something I can relate to. The making mistakes along the way, at least. I’ll not soon forget him, I hope. Though I can’t bring his name to mind at the moment. I’m terrible with names. Am I willing, though, to share my mistakes with others? Every now and then I do, I suppose.

From everyone I’ve ever met I’ve learned something. Occasionally, I’ve helped or taught people something myself. I think.

It seems to me, if I look back on my “journey” along the way, I’ve made a lot of turns. I often wish before I’d turned I’d seen a sign that said, “No Outlet,” however. But never mind those times. For each “wrong” turn, in retrospect, was interesting and a source of lessons, if not exactly enjoyable.

If only there were a sign that said, “Do Not Go This Way!” I’ve often lamented. Yet, I know I’d have most likely ignored it anyway, and proceeded full speed ahead. The thing about wrong turns is that there is always some way out. Even if it isn’t at first apparent. It’s like a lot of the cliches about such things. Like there is light at the end of the tunnel.

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” —Psalm 23:4

That works if we believe in YeshuaJesus. If we have sought Him. If we at least attempt to follow Him.

Moses teaches us: “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12) Eventually I figured out that thought my life I’ve not counted my days, not considered my ways. Too often I simply went along, as if floating down a river in a tube, drifting along, not considering where I was going or what I was doing. Meandering. That how I put it once in a short article for a news letter  to which I once contributed.

One of the lessons learned from my time at Camp Roberts, was that if we messed up, we just needed to be able to fix it. I’ve learned since then that if I can’t fix it, I must own up to it and ask for help. Confession is a good thing. Hard. But good.

A few years ago I was installing some network software at an office. I forgot to rename a particular file, and it was overwritten, which brought the network to a screeching halt. I couldn’t fix it, had to call in to the main office, and the file brought back from backup. I don’t like making mistakes. I also don’t like to admit them. But admitting fault is the first step in righting wrongs.

There are a lot of people, too, that I’ve never met and seriously admire. Great people whose lives are laid bare in the Bible. King David messed up a lot. And he owned the mistakes, and was forgiven. Of course, there were consequences to his actions. All those are also laid bare in the Bible.

At the end of Moses’s Song (Psalm 90) he wrote: “Let the favor of the L-RD our G-D be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands!” I like this. As a young man, I could have looked to the L-RD to establish my works, my direction, my path. I believed. I just didn’t believe enough, didn’t trust enough, didn’t listen enough to His Voice. He doesn’t always put up big signs saying “Do Not Enter.” Although a careful reading of the Bible shows us there are signs. There is guidance. I also didn’t know enough to learn to hear His quiet Voice, the Voice He speaks through His Spirit.

When our lives seem in the pits. Wrong turns. Sorrow. We have a choice. Own up. We can blame others, but that does little good, other than to hide our part. Better to own up. Confess. And move on.

 

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Numbers-6-24-26 – 1

No Deposit. No Return

It’s the worse thing a bottle collector can face. For some years in the late 1960s, I scrounged bottles from trash cans, the sides of the road, and in gutters along the town street. I redeemed the bottles for cash. That money went toward groceries, gas, and a long way toward paying the rent. Occasionally I’d find a bottle that said simply, “No Deposit. No Return.” While appreciating others’ carelessness at throwing stuff out, I couldn’t litter. So I simple put the bottle into the bag and carried it along, depositing it in a trash bin when I come to one. [Huh. Reminds me about carrying around a lot of excess baggage, and to deal with it. . . but that will keep for another day.]
Continue reading “No Deposit. No Return” →

I think I’ve become liberal (GASP!)

Looking in the mirror, as the steam from the hot shower cleared, I began to comb my hair and realized I’d just pulled it off my face to the side, 1960s surfer style. Opps. My wife doesn’t like That Look. The incident made me start to think. Perhaps I’m headed for another mid-life crisis. But pushing age 70, that’s not likely. Isn’t age 70 when dementia begins? Perhaps I’m just losing my mind, Continue reading “I think I’ve become liberal (GASP!)” →