Sit, and Wait

He got up at his usual hour, before dawn. He was feeling a little hungry, so he peeked into the containers that his wife put their snacks in. The snacks were wide and varied. Pretzels, dry cereal, Ritz crackers, chicharrones, etc. The dry cereal collection this week was Golden Grahams and cinnamon flavored Frosted Flakes.

Tryting to be quiet, he opened the container for the Golden Grahams and took a few to nibble on. Not quiet enough. She stood and looked up at him, her tan fur glowing in the dim light from outside. Her big doe eyes was the only thing he could see of her face and knew the snout was angled up in his direction. She wanted a treat.

So, he got one piece of the cereal and closed his fist. Leaning down he said, quietly, "Do you want a treat?" Holding his fist at her level, she moved in and tried to dig her snout into the fist to get the snack. "Sit," he commanded. Her gaze wnt from the fist to his face to the fist again. Her tail started to wag, swishing back and forth. "Sit," he repeated. Finally getting the idea, she backed up to put her haunches on the ground. The tail was still wagging. He waited a moment. She sat and blinked, wagging the tail. He started to open the fist, and she stood and came for it. The fist closed. "No, sit." She sat, and waited. When the fist was fully open, and she saw the cereal, she darted forward, grabbing the treat and ran to her blanket to chew on it. He know she would be back, so he grabbed a few more Golden Grahams.

He remembered a time long ago, when he was a child, that he used to get the munchies in the middle of the night. One week, his mother had gone shopping and bought a family-sized box of Frosted Flakes. He loved that cereal! So, he got up, found the cereal, which was as yet, unopened. He took the box back to the bed, and he ate it all, crunching away. How his brother didn't hear him, nor his parents, he didn't care. Mom was very angy  in the morning.

His mother once claimed that when he was 3, he would climb onto the counter, get into the cupboard and reach up to the booze stash that was stored on a top shelf, pull down a bottle of Southern Comfort and drink straight out of the bottle. He didn't remember that episode, but he supposed that the story of the alcoholic infant was a good party favorite. He liked Southern Comfort too. He did remember when he was 7, when his parents had a big gathering, he would go around, and if their beers were almost empty, he would offer to finish it for them. They didn't mind and gave it to him. Well, when you finish the last bit of, oh, 8 beers or so, you may become intoxicated, and so he was very drunk. He went to bed and passed out, still wearing his clothes. Did this happen more than once? He didn't remember. But, now he hates Coors, which was the beer they were all drinking.

The dog came back a few more times. He did the same process. Hold it in his fist, lean down and ask her to sit. At last, she sat without a command, seeing the fist. So, he kept training her, holding the treat longer and longer to build up her patience as he let her sit, and wait.

... the text for May 3, 2020

[Have] your feet shod in readiness to declare the good news of peace. - Eph. 6:15

What kind of shoes do you have? Sandals? A worn-out pair of sneakers? Stylish Italian shoes, where the toes come to an uncomfortable point? Stilettos?

The readiness spoken of here is being prepared, ready to preach. You put on your sturdiest shoes for a hike in the woods. You also dress appropriately for the ministry. In Alaska, it's reasonable to have winter boots on, not fancy leather shoes that are useless in snow and ice.

Likewise, being prepared is important. Knowing what you can preach about is crucial. Someone, somewhere, can make an off-hand remark about the world in general, and then you "sprint" into action, whipping out your electronic device to show 2 Tim. 3:1-5, and if they are interested, explain how the critical times match with Jesus' description of the last days (Matt> 24).

Let us not be flat-footed.

... the dreams that made me cry

About six years ago, my grandmother had asked me to look for my father. My father had been disfellowshipped for over 40 years, and no one had contact with him for eons. The last time we heard was about ten years ago, when my grandfather, in an attempt to help him, would take him to meetings and gave him a job in my grandfather's bumper repair shop, where he also lived. It didn't go well. My father had became addicted to drugs and he stole things to pay for his habit, including my grandfather's RV. This caused my grandfather to put a temporary restraining order against him to protect the family. So, he disappeared.

So, I began to search for my father, by checking public records and locating addresses. My grandparents would drive there and attempt to locate him, but no luck. We didn't know if he were alive or dead. Then I had this dream:

I was in a van with other people. I don't know who they are, I did not recognize them. We were driving around, searching for my father. I looked out the window, and shouted, "There he is!" We all jumped out. My father was wearing a 19th century overcoat, with a vest and pant and cravat. He had a stovepipe hat on top of his head. He was walking along, with a sandwich board over his shoulders advertising something that I couldn't read. I ran up to him and said, "Dad! Dad! I've been looking all over for you. He looked at me like I was a stranger, sort of leaning back, with a wary expression on his face.  "It's me, Patrick!" I cried, "I'm so glad you're alive!" He didn't say anything. His expression didn't change. I started to sob, and fell to my knees and hugged him around his legs, crying "Dad! Dad!"  I was sobbing uncontrollably and then...

I woke up with a jolt. My chest was compressed and I wasn't breathing. Then I slowly started breathing and my temse body relaxed and I just laid there, thinking. i fell asleep again, but no dreams came.

The second one I had was this:

I was in a living room. I was talking to someone that i felt was a friend. He had really long hair, with a ball cap on his head. He was relating to me how his father had been in a war, and wanted me to meet him. I did not know this man, had never seen him before, but i felt connected, so I nodded. Then his father came in the room. His father had no shirt. He wore a turban on his head. His beard was white and pointed. He had lost both hands. One arm came to the mid-forearm and stopped. The other arm was amputated at the elbow. The old man talked about the fighting he had been through. As I listened to the store, I was overcome with emotion at something so tragic happened to this man. I began to cry and laid my hand on his shoulder, telling him how sorry I was. I began to sob, and then...

I woke up, not breathing, gasping for breath. I calmed down and then wondered who that old guy was.

.. a recent dream

Usually, I don't remember dreams I've had, but occasionally, I remember snippets of things that happened. Such as this one:

I was in a lagoon or lake of some sort. At the other end, was a large freighter. As I looked, the bow began to split open, like a set of doors. A long, metallic arm came out and it had a scoop on one end. It extended out so many feet, then it began to oscillate. As the oscillation widened, I realized that it was coming in my direction! I ducked under water, as the scoop passed over my head. Then it stopped and came back, as if it was searching for me. I was waist deep in water, so I couldn't move very fast, but I tried my best to keep out of the way of this arm, as it swung back and forth in an attempt to get me. I woke up. I don't wake up screaming or sweating or terrified. I just wake up and say, "My goodness! What a weird dream." Then I think: Did I read or see anything about a big boat? No.

This is the one I had last night:

I found myself sitting on a bench, that was suspended by wires. It was attached to this building, like the Stratosphere in Las Vegas or the Space Needle in Seattle. The bench I was on was hanging from the edge of the round structure, and as I looked back, I could see the pedestal it was on. It was extremely high off the ground. I was not restrained, and as I hung there, it jiggled and I was clutching the back of the bench to keep from slipping off to my death. I noticed someone else sitting on the bench and it vaguely appeared to be a female. She was leaning over the back of the bench, reaching for shirts and sweaters that hung a couple of feet behind us. I did not recognize the woman, but she had long hair and was a grey shape. We did not talk. She slipped through the clothes and found one she liked and pulled the white sweater off the rack to look at it more closely. Then the bench start to descend slowly. It wavered and jiggled in the breeze. And then I found myself in a store selling sports memorabilia. I'm not the sort to buy that stuff, but I looked through the wares and found some things I wanted to get. So, I took them to the man behind the cassh register. I paid over $100 for the items. The sales clerk packed them all into one of the shoes I had bought. Then I kept losing the shoe. I walked all over the store looking for the shoe. Then I would find the shoe and then I would lose it again, and this repeated itself until I finally woke up late.

 The one memory I do have is that prior to our marriage over 7 years ago, my fiancee and I went to the fair in Pomona. There they have a ride, similar to the one used at ski slopes. It had a bench with a simple bar to keep you in, but no other restraints. It wasn't really high, but we could see the crowd of people below us and looked down on the different attractions along the way. My future wife began to swing her legs, causing the bench to jiggle and dance, and I had to, calmly as I could, tell her to stop shaking it. But, to still have this years later, is very odd. Anyway, these perplex me, but I don't have them too often, thankfully.

... what dreams may come #1

I routinely have weird dreams. Some say that it's just your brain processing memories, tossing some, keeping others. The dreams I have are surreal and appear to have nothing showing that I've experienced these things. A common dream alerts me to the fact that though I'm not afraid of heights, I do get anxious when I'm far above the earth, in an unrestrained position.

I cita a dream I had a long time ago, where I found myself on a pole, with a very small seat. I could not see a way to get down, nor did I see how I got up there. On the sides of this little platform I was sitting on, where two rails, like the kind that are attached to diving boards at swimming pools. When I was 15 or so, we had moved in with my stepfather's mother, and she had a house with a pool. It had the singularity of being the only one in the neighborhood with a high dive. The high dive was about ten feet. It didn't bother me. i jumped off it regularly, but I nver dove face first into the water. One of my friends slipped off the steps and broke his arm, but that was the only accident in this high dive's live. The pool did have a really deep end (about 15 feet) so it was safe.

But this dream really frightened me. I had these rails, and I looked below to see no steps of any kind. As I looked out, I could see a city far below. It appeared much higher than 100 feet. As I sat there, thinking about how I was going to get off, this pole and platform I was sitting on swayed wit the slight breeze. I was not secured, so I hung onto the rails for dear life, afraid of slipping. I couldn't move either. My legs started to cramp and I tried to move my legs to relieve the cramp. I had no where to go. I woke up.

I don't delve into what dreams mean. I did date a sister once, who before she came to learn about Jehovah, was really into interpreting dreams, but I never asked her and it wouldn't have been right anyway.

So, I guess I can put my dreams here, and try to see how they relate, and maybe I can make the connections between them.

.. the text for May 2, 2020

Welcome one another just as the Christ also welcomed you. - Rom. 15:7

Eph. 2:12 said that we "had no hope and were without God in the world." With Jesus' sacrifice, he "opened" the door so that we could be with God and become part of Jehovah's universal family. If Christ welcomes us imperfect, miserable humans, we return the favor by welcoming all who desire to know Jehovah. Divisions, forcing people to stay in their caste, racial prejudices, looking down on people who have less than you; all these attitudes are prevalent in the world. But, we are no part of the world, as we have come to know Jehovah, and we need  not be influenced by it.

 Rom. 3:13 foretells that the world's terrible attitudes will only get worse. We need to continue to fight the influence which is is everywhere, in social news, movies, television, muisc, books.

I was looking at Yahoo News and saw different celebrities bashing each other. Now, it's newscasters calling each other names and making contemptuous remarks about each other.

One part of the text comments struck a cord: "cultural differences". This struck a chord with me. I was born deaf, but with an aid of a hearing aid, I am able to hear and speak fluent English. But, I'm still deaf. Over the years, I have found that if I chose to take the hearing aid out, I end up offending some because they rely on me hearing them and they can communicate with me. I've joked that my hearing aid is a blessing and a curse: That it lets me hear but then some take it for granted that I can. Sadly, there have been some people that have actually decided for me when I can hear them and when I cannot. I find it funny (in a sad way) when I remark on what people say, and they claim my hearing was "defective," that I didn't hear what they said, when I did hear them clearly.

My real experience:

I went to the hospital because I was experiencing TIAs which is a neural spasm of sorts (layman's terms). I was there for 5 days for testing and observation. At that time, my hearing aid was "in the shop" getting fixed, so I heard nothing. One of the sisters from the congregation volunteered to interpret for me when I spoke with the doctor, and I appreciated that. One night, before bed, a nurse come in to take a blood glucose reading. She pantomimed what she was going to do. I understood, so i nodded to her. The head nurse had told her staff that I was deaf and could hear nothing, so the nurse knew this and went about her business. She uncapped the need to prick my finger and pricked my finger. I said, clearly, "Aren't you supposed to use alcohol before you prick my finger?" Her mouth dropped open. I could see her lips worked, but I didn't hear anything. She was gesticulating at me, and I just stared at her. Then I said, "sorry, I'm deaf and can't hear you, but finish what you were doing." She ran from the room. About ten minutes later, the head nurse came in and took my reading. She had taken time to learn the sign for "pain" and I smiled, thanked her and said I felt fine.

Which of the two accepted my cultural difference? But, we're counseled by Jehovah that we should accept these differences. Many hearing ones learn sign language for that reason. But, in the new system, it won't matter, someone told me. True, but we're not there yet. What about the here and now?

There are times when I don't feel welcome.

... the text for May 1, 2020

Love the foreign resident. - Deut. 10:19

Jehovah commanded the nation of Israel to show proper love to the foregin resident, because many Egyptians had joined them in leaving Egypt. This was proper and fair.

I was in service with a sister and we were working an apartment building. As we went from door to door, we met many foreign residents. The sister took advantage of this and asked each one what their native tongue was. She found a video in that language and played it for them. Their faces lit up when they heard about Jehovah in their own tongue.

We are tought to love our neighbor as ourself. We would be grateful if we moved to, say, Turkey, and someone there played something in English for our benefit.We would not withhold that from ourself, would we?


If you show contempt for a person from another country, in effect, we would be treating ourself better than our neighbor. That isn't what the Bible teaches. It teaches us to treat others the same as we treat ourself. Being diligent to help those who do not speak our language in learning about Jehovah is one way we can express love amid a world full of hatred, contempt and blame to the foreign resident.