Dallin Malmgren's Blog, page 22

HOW GOD SPOKE TO ME TODAY November 1–7, 2021

November 1, 2021
When I was working on my last writing project, my son commented “I wish you wouldn’t write so much about spiritual stuff.” As I get older, I find that’s all I want to write about. As Bob Dylan put it, “Then onward in my journey I come to understand That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.” Which leads me to my next writing project:
I have come to realize that God wants to communicate with us every day, all the time really. The sole problem is that we are sluggish to listen–at least I am. I decided to address the problem. Each day I would try to write down one thing that God said to me. God is the consummate communicator; He can use words (see the Bible) but He doesn’t have to. In fact, limiting your communication from God to the Bible is like telling your best friend he/she can only interact with you through text messages. How deadening would that be?
So I resolved to “listen” for God each day–and document it. It has been a refreshing, invigorating experience. The Westminister Catechism says that humanity’s chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. I am certainly enjoying Him, but my heart wants to glorify Him too. My private journal is going public–my only goal is to encourage any reader to listen more closely for God’s voice, to respond to it, and perhaps to share the joy.
HOW GOD SPOKE TO ME TODAY
Sunday, September 5, 2021 — God can communicate the joy and grandeur of love in something as simple as a granddaughter’s shy smile.

November 2, 2021
This one is in response to my friend Ross–
HOW GOD SPOKE TO ME TODAY
Sunday, August 22, 2021 I Corinthians 1:1–17. I’m trying to get the hang of reading the Bible. You just have to let it speak to you. Put away all doctrine, all manipulation, all defense mechanism, that unavailing ego-driven desire to be right, that need to make someone think like you do–just listen. I love the diverse ways God chooses to speak to me, but it does require discernment. I have a tendency to disguise my voice as God’s. If your heart is right, He will always speak through the Bible. But that also requires discernment.

November 3, 2021
HOW GOD SPOKE TO ME TODAY
Tuesday, September 21, 2021
I carried with me today the conviction that the presence of God is everything. It doesn’t matter if we are aware of it or acknowledge it or ignore it–it is still true. Humanity’s highest calling is to live in His presence. God is here.

November 4, 2021
HOW GOD SPOKE TO ME TODAY
Tuesday, August 24, 2021 “…the testing of your faith produces endurance.” (James 1:3) This is a constantly recurring lesson I learn from golf. Every time I play golf, I ask God to join me. Improvement is never a consistant upward trajectory. You move forward, you fall back, you move forward, you fall back. I am called upon to endure in the belief that God is with me, He has my best interests at heart, and I can’t judge by outward circumstances. Good round, bad round–golf is a spiritual exercise.

November 5, 2021
Sunday, September 19, 2021 It’s amazing how often God speaks to me through beauty. And I’m not talking Grand Canyon beauty.. I mean simple everyday beauty. Most of the time I’m just not paying attention…but there are moments. I was sitting on my back porch on a gorgeous evening with an ever so slight breeze and clean air and a swallowtail butterfly fluttering and two hummingbirds fussing over our feeders and several golfers going by dismayed with their shots and Karen’s wonderful hanging plants enjoying being alive and my beloved live oak tree embracing it all… I said, “You created this” and He said, “I did.”

November 6, 2021
HOW GOD SPOKE TO ME TODAY
Tuesday, August 31, 2021 My friend Roy believes in the Oneness–this universal consciousness that we all drift into when we die. But he doesn’t think it’s personal–that there will be an I and a you. I can see how one might think that. Here is my refutation: We are created beings. There has to be a purpose for the Creator to create us, or else the universe is meaningless, and how can that be? The purpose, of course, is love. Love must move beyond itself. That is the reason for our creation–to love the Oneness back. And we, and all of creation, will do that. For all of eternity.

November 7, 2021
HOW GOD SPOKE TO ME TODAY
Wednesday, September 8, 2021 He reminded me that He has been speaking to me all through the years through music. Today I listened to two Dylan songs from my youth. “It’s Alright Ma, I’m only Bleeding” powerfully influenced me to reject “the world” and its values (an absolutely scathing song). “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue” was a prophetic warning that I needed to leave the life I was living–kinda like Jonah and the Ninevites. Of course, I wasn’t fully aware of this, but God was speaking.

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A message to ALL my former students: vote

I just figured it out—if I was your teacher my first year of teaching, the oldest you would be now is about 59. (whew!) If you had me my last year of teaching, the youngest you could be is about 20. That means every kid I ever taught should be eligible to vote. So do it.

Let me be clear from the outset. This is in no way an attempt to tell you who to vote for. True, I have a definite opinion about how I want to vote, but your vote is waaayyy more important than my opinion…I get my vote for that.

These are some terms that I hate: Voter suppression—an intentional effort to make it more difficult for people to vote. Gerrymandering—the manipulation of an electoral constituency’s boundaries so as favor one party or class. Mail-in voter fraud—the idea that if we make it safer for people to vote during the pandemic, this is going to encourage cheating. All of these concepts are in direct conflict with the most basic tenet of democratic government…of the people, by the people, for the people.

This is why you should vote: You matter—you are one of the people listed above. You deserve a say. Like the slogan says, your vote is your voice. Be involved—no one admires or respects the guy who sits on the sideline and criticizes the action on the field. Voting is a privilege, but it’s also a responsibility. Voting says you care. Participate in history—people on both sides say this is one of the most impactful elections ever held in the United States. Some say it will determine the fate of the nation. It deserves your two cents.

This is how to make sure you vote: Register! – in Texas, you must be registered 30 days in advance—that means October 3. Do it now. Texas doesn’t have online registration (which is ridiculous), but you can request the form online. If you don’t know if you are registered, just search: voter registration in Texas. Don’t count on mail-in voting—as of now, you can only vote by mail if you are 65, disabled, in jail, or out of your county on November 3. Take advantage of early voting—it goes from October 13 to October 30 in Texas. This is your safest way to vote in view of the pandemic—no lines, no crowds, in and out quickly. If you don’t live in Texas–just search: “voter registration in (your state)” and you will find all the information you need.

My dear former students, you can do more than just vote. You can encourage other people to vote. Make sure your friends are voting. Help people to obtain a ballot. Take people to the polling place, or volunteer there. If we have the largest voter turnout ever, the election will be a success no matter the result. When the people are involved, the country wins. Vote!

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Things I don’t understand

photo by karen

Perhaps this is an effect of pandemic fever. I am becoming increasingly aware of how much I don’t know.

–How “reality” television became so popular.

–How any race or ethnicity of people can think themselves superior (or inferior) to any other race or ethnicity. Different, I get.

–How people can go their entire lives without acknowledging that they are created beings, and thus must have a Creator.

–Why my body often will not do what my mind tells it during my golf swing.

–Why love is so easy to proclaim and so difficult to practice.

–How it is even possible for so many evil, horrible things to have been done throughout human history in the name of religion.

–How devoted followers of Jesus Christ can passionately support Donald Trump.

–How fame and fortune came to be more desirable than peace and contentment.

–How believers in democracy can attempt to suppress the vote.

–Why so many foods that taste so good are inevitably bad for you.

–Why people will believe whatever they are told if they want to.

–How anyone can blame homosexuals for being who they are.

–Why the use of alcohol is so much more socially acceptable than the use of marijuana.

–How the presence of God can be so evident and elusive at the same time.

–Why there are not term limits for all of our elected representatives.

–Why anyone who lives here would want to shut down the post office.

–Insomnia. Why isn’t there just a switch?

–Why some people refuse to wear masks.

–The stock market. Don’t understand it, don’t want to learn. Thanks, Mike.

–Why kneeling for the national anthem is seen as unpatriotic.

–How human sexuality can so frequently become so messed-up.

–How anyone can believe owning an AK-47 is a God-given right.

–Why marriage doesn’t just get easier and easier and easier.

–How families lose the concept of unconditional love.

–Why it is just as easy to lie to ourselves as it is to others.

–The subjective appeal of music. Not complaining about it, actually appreciate it. I just don’t get it.

–Man’s inhumanity to man. Duh.

–The mind of God. Never have understood it, never will. But I love the glimpses.

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Pandemic Fever

honest to God photo by Karen

It’s getting to me—I find myself sinking—my quiet times are labored—my golf game is muddled—my irritability quotient is on trigger-finger mode—The Sameness (see blog post 6/7/2020) is more deadening—the evening news is more depressing—the national leadership is more absurd—my escape valves are less satisfactory.

Of course, I have a built-in excuse: the unrelenting, oppressive, step-into-a-furnace-when-you-step-out-the-door, unending heat! I took that photo at 4:05 today. I haven’t sat out on my porch, my haven (see blog post 3/11/2020), all week long. This heat paralyzes.

But Pandemic Fever has not just struck me, and it is not only in Dallas. I have relatives in New Orleans and San Francisco and Bend and Seattle and Port Townsend and Squamish, British Columbia—and they all attest to symptoms similar to those listed above. Even my senior golf buds, usually the most congenial guys on the planet (and why not—we’re playing golf!), were more quarrelsome this week than I’ve ever seen them. And I see more and more evidence of this malady on social media—my Trumpite friends are lapsing into wilder-than-ever conspiracy theories, and the Bidenites are begging for more and more money. No one seems very happy.

My heart goes out especially to the teachers. While struggling with the same effects of the pandemic that we all are, they are being asked to step up their game. They will have to work harder this year than they ever have. Online and in-class teaching. Special duties and precautions. Frequently unsympathetic parents and administrators to deal with. Uncooperative students (true, we have some of those to deal with every year). And remember, they will be doing all of this in an environment that is undeniably, incontrovertibly hazardous to their own health.

Sadly, we don’t have a cure for Pandemic Fever. I have to confess that up to this point most of my virus-related prayers have been directed toward His keeping our loved ones safe and His using the pandemic to straighten out the mess this country has become. But I too am stepping up my game—I am praying full-time for a vaccine. We need to get past this. There will undoubtedly be a new normal, but any normal sounds pretty good right now.

In the meantime, my two crutches are God and faith. I believe things have to get better. I believe our country is changing its political direction. I believe there is an overwhelming unifying effect of the virus—the recognition of our need to help each other. This is a marathon, not a sprint. As the apostle James says …the testing of our faith produces endurance…; and as Paul says …endurance produces character, and character produces hope.

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The Stuck Nut

photo by me

I got this from my quiet time earlier this week: “The main thing about Christianity is not the work we do, but the relationship we maintain and the atmosphere produced by that relationship. That is all God asks us to look after, and it is the one thing that is being continually assaulted.”

–from My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers

So it’s Thursday and my goal for the day is to get my golf cart cleaned up and running. I haven’t driven it in about four months because my club won’t let you use your own cart on their course. But the granddaughters are spending the night on Friday, and they love to drive the golf cart. I’ve already checked it out and there’s a bunch of corrosion around the battery cables. I figure it will take me around an hour to clean up.

Whenever I begin any kind of DIY project, especially something mechanical, I should be aware that things will go wrong. This was a doozy. On the very first terminal, two of the electrical wire connections (not the battery cable) snap off. I go to Lowe’s to buy new connections—get the wrong ones—take them back…Lowe’s doesn’t have the right ones—go to Auto Zone—they carry them but are out of stock. The next Auto Zone has them. I’m over two hours into the project and I’ve completed one out of twelve terminals. I roll along. About an hour and a half later, I’m down to my last three terminals. Only on the next one, the battery cable is corroded and dissolves when I loosen the nut. I need a six inch battery cable and the shortest one Auto Zone carries is four feet—I settle for a 19 inch one from Walmart.

Of course, to put on a new cable, I have to remove both ends of the old one. I am introduced to the nut from hell. It is corroded and none of my socket wrenches fit. My 11 mm is too big and my 10 mm is too small. My finger is bleeding from messing with it. The YouTube video idea does not work. Karen comes out to see how I am doing. I glare at her. She has the wisdom to hurry back inside. I am beyond frustration.

I know I should pray (I bet Karen already has), but I don’t want to. Here’s why: nothing is going to move that damn nut, and so all praying will do is add frustration with God to my heaps of frustration with myself. But I have to pray because I am at the end of my resources: Lord, I am a mess. I know that my own neglect caused this situation. The golf cart can’t run if I can’t get that cable off. I don’t know what to do. Maybe the cart is meant to die here. Just help me to realize Your presence and know that You have everything under control.

Praying helped—I was calmer. I looked in my tool box and noticed a smaller socket that was not even a part of my set. I slipped it over my nut and it fit snugly. The nut and cable came off easily.

I know, I know—this is not a hokey story about how God magically put the right size socket into my tool box. It would not matter if my golf cart was still sitting in my garage, rotting. The real miracle is that He was able to restore me into a right relationship with Him. Mercy and grace and peace be unto me.

The bible says “You do not have because you do not ask.”

photo by me

(James 4:2) I used to think of that in terms of a position at work or a published novel or a winning lottery ticket. Hogwash. The greatest gifts are the ones of the Spirit.

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Raspberries

photo by me

I’m running about 5–6 pounds heavier than usual since the time of corona. I’m not thrilled about it, but it could be worse. I’m definitely not getting as much exercise as I used to. My diet is more depressing than my weight. There are certain positives that I can’t seem to incorporate and certain negatives that I can’t seem to shake.

My sister Miriam has informed me the two most important foods on the planet are salmon and blueberries, and I believe her. Karen and I have tried to make them staples in our diet, but I can’t convince my appetite to appreciate fish as much as meat, and blueberries don’t make my top five in the favorite fruit category. But two healthy foods aren’t going to save me. I think I need an overhaul. I used to get free fast food as a coach, and that ruined me. We came to the realization that we needed to make some food lifestyle changes, such as practically eliminating fast food and cutting down on eating out in general. The lockdown has done wonders for that. Unfortunately, my other goals — much less red meat, more fish, whole grains instead of white flour, low calorie drinks, nuts in small amounts, and, first-last-always, fruits and vegetables – have not been so easy to accomplish for me. Why did God make potato chips taste so good? And who can live without pizza?

Here’s my stumbling block–I’m not much on vegetables. Never was. I can stomach them now, but in my youth I simply could not abide peas. My parents were old school–you sat at the table until your plate was clean, an obvious conflict of interest.. One day my mother noticed an odor coming from the dining room table. The table was spotless–but there was an unrecognizable but unmistakable odor. Finally, she got down on her knees to investigate. Under my place at the table, crammed and smushed into the wood, the crannies, the joints, the cracks, she found peas and peas and peas. My favorite thing about peas is that they are sticky when squished.

On Thanksgiving we had pumpkin pie. I was about ten, and I took a piece, tasted it, hated it. My father informed me I couldn’t leave the table until I finished it. This was blatant injustice–nobody should be forced to finish dessert! I don’t even remember how the stalemate ended, but I know I sat at that table for hours

. And I never tried pumpkin pie again until I was at least 30 years old, when I discovered it was delicious.

I still think I have a shot at the successful diet. The key is fruit. Karen is bringing me around of veggies. And now they say nuts are good. (Costco has some excellent nut choices.) When we were children, my mother would buy us bing cherries in season. But she would never just set them out. No, she would get six bowls and dole them out one at a time. She would eat herself whatever unequal remainder existed. She did the same thing with pistachio nuts. I’d eat my bowl like they might dissolve in there, but one of my sisters was a hoarder. Geez, the smugness inherent in possessing a bowl full of something in the presence of empty bowls!

We had rows of raspberries planted on the hillside in our backyard. During that magical time when they bore fruit, my mother would send one of us out with a small bucket, and we would all have raspberries on our breakfast cereal that morning. Rogue that I was, I can remember sneaking out and laying prone in the raspberry patch (which was visible from Mom’s kitchen window) and plucking berries from the bush to my mouth. No wash, no cereal, no ice cream. Elemental and delicious.

Once at a family reunion, my nephew Ged and I were partaking from a carton of raspberries. “This is my favorite food,” he said. “I never get tired of raspberries.” I smiled at him. “It’s in the genes,” I said.

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Senior changes, part II

photo by Annalisa Barelli

As I explained in the last essay, choices look different as we age—especially in light of the virus. Every one of them, whether simple or huge, has more gravitas. The desire to appreciate life sweetens. The realization that we have a responsibility deepens. Then there’s that hope to leave a mark, which flirts dangerously with our ego. I’m thinking that old people pray for guidance more than young people do.

Which leads us to my next category, which might seem frivolous: entertainment. Transitioning from the preciousness of time to how we’re going to spend it can be bumpy. I’ve never doubted that entertainment can be mentally stimulating, awe-inspiring and life-affirming, all positive effects. But, if you’re like me, it’s pretty easy to let your choices float down the gutter, i.e., containing none of the above. When we think of it in a limited-time framework, we want to make good entertainment choices—especially in the time of corona.

Ratcheting up the level of importance, we have to make choices about each other. Not about our future (although choices lie ahead), but about our present. The circumstances are always different, but most of us have some sort of other(s). I don’t know why (yes I do), but it’s always been easier for me to think about how my other is treating me than how I am treating her. These people who have been with us however long, who are the most significant people in our lives—we should be lavishing our love and affection upon them. I know it gets complex immediately, but that is a good guideline for how we treat each other.

As easily avoidable as the subject is, we have to (or at least should) make choices about death. Obviously, the legal stuff…Karen’s Aunt Faith had everything beautifully organized, and it has still been difficult to navigate. I can’t imagine trying to sort it out from scratch. But there’s lots of other choices—do they know what we want; (do we know what we want)? If they know, do we want to know? Have we set the limit for keeping us alive? Are we ready (it’s better to decide that in advance)? What about our funerals? I know exactly what I want, but my wife doesn’t want me to write about it. Can we ever be ready to die, except because of pain? I hope so.

My last topic is probably predictable: God. We should say “yes” to God. I don’t mean come-to-the-altar, lost-was-found “yes” (although I’m not opposed to that). Wherever we are on the Spiritual Journey—we should say yes. A daily, moment-by-moment, day-by-day, this-is-a-journey yes. I suspect that every human soul (there are a lot of people out of touch with their souls) , when asked what was most valued, would say love and peace and hope . We don’t have them and can’t buy them—they can only be received. By saying yes, we open up our hearts. Say yes.

I’m sure I’ve missed something, but these are the big ones—in my mind. The thing about choices is we don’t just make them and file them away, as if all has been resolved. We have to keep making them, day by day, moment by moment. Like our actions, we are responsible for our choices—even if we choose to do nothing. The temptation in the days of corona is to do nothing—but what fun is that?

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Senior choices

I was going to say elderly choices, but I dislike the word elderly. I think of someone who can no longer take care of himself. I prefer to be old, which I am. There are a lot of choices to be made regarding a number of topics at my age. I tend to be one of those “have no care for the morrow” guys, so it’s wise to organize my thoughts. The future looks different when you are over 70. Covid-19 does not help.

The first topic that comes to mind is family. Bethany and her family just moved from Toronto to British Columbia. Nathan and his family just bought their first house in Port Townsend, Washington. Our plan had been to spend most of August in the Pacific Northwest. And this was our year to have all of them here for Christmas. Then came the virus. Now it looks like the earliest we’ll see them is next spring. (That’s close to one and a half years without being with our three precious granddaughters—rough!) We chose to keep Zack and Kallie and the girls in our bubble here in Dallas, and we’re extremely glad we did.

Not necessarily in order of importance (well, maybe), we have to make choices about our health. Sadly, we are all headed toward “..can no longer take care of myself..” or death, whichever comes first. We prolong those outcomes by taking better care of ourselves now. Our diet is a huge factor, but it’s easy to let fatalism take over and eat what you can while you can. A healthy diet is a day-by-day choice (…and then I think about starving children…). Exercise, ah. If it wasn’t for golf… It gets harder to push yourself to stay fit. I don’t pay attention to my pedometer like I used to. It takes more effort to get out of my recliner. Maintaining a healthy mental state—that’s a tricky one, but it’s as significant a factor in your overall health as either of the above. You can actually choose to stay positive. I am learning that we have more control over how we feel than I realized. Breathing helps with this one. My moods have ridden me like a bucking bronco, but I’m still riding.

All of us make financial choices, but I think it gets different for seniors. Ironically, we have to think more about the future. This is what we got, this is what we can anticipate getting, this is what we need to survive or be comfortable or whatever…we have to be practical. My two sides of the financial pendulum are: it’s God’s money—I want to do whatever He wants * and * I’d sure like to help my kids out when we’re gone. The pendulum can become a highwire at times. God is working with me on that. Karen’s Aunt Faith used to say: “Spend, save, share—as you get older, the emphasis should move from left to right.”

Our most important commodity is time. Don’t get me wrong—I don’t mean clinging to a merciless master—going out kicking and screaming—I mean how much time left that we can enjoy life. That is precious. So how do we use it? Boy, the time of corona has thrown us for a loop, hasn’t it? But I think we’re supposed to be learning to be better managers of time—not so we can accomplish more, but to slow down and appreciate the gifts of life that we already have. It’s like savoring time instead of spending it.

Haha, just realized this is a two-part essay. I have several other topics I want to address. Part II will follow on Sunday.

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Dowanee from scratch

She floats in and out of the vagaries of my childhood memory, omnipresent but insubstantial, a towering phantom. But she was always there. She lived in our house from the time I was born until we moved from Drexel Hill to Florissant, Missouri when I was seventeen. For all intents and purposes, she seemed to despise and deride my mother and to fear and seethe against my father. Her raison d’etre was focused on undermining the influence they tried to wield upon their children, and I never detected a moral compass attached to her efforts. If they pulled one way, she pulled the other. Come to think, mom and dad very seldom seemed to be pulling in a common direction, so cumulatively we were being drawn and quartered, minus one.

She adored her son Hafis–in her eyes he could do no wrong. This was the man who flatly rejected any overtures my mom made to have Dowanee come visit or live with him for any length of time.

I know my parents considered her the burden they had to bear, but how could we have survived without her? As I remember, she did everything. The cooking, the dishes, the cleaning, the laundry–I can still envision a washboard and a large bucket, swear to God. I’ll bet I never woke up before her in our entire life together.

Her specialty was childcare, a unique brand. Most parents either vehemently deny or desperately try to hide that they have favorites. Dowanee felt no such compunction. The firstborn, my sister Miriam, was the light of her life. Paging through our earliest family photo albums, it is almost impossible to find a picture where Miriam is not being held by Dowanee. We others laugh about it, because it is hard to fine one of us where we are! My sister Nailla describes her relationship with Dowanee as one of aboriginal hatred. My father called Nailla his “Black Walnut” because she had a darker skin than the rest of us, and he said she looked the most like the young Ascia. Apparently, that did not score points with Dowanee.

Dowanee’s native tongue was something called Russian Tartar, though I was recently told we are Tatars, not Tartars. Fish and chips. Only Miriam became fluent in Tartar. I can remember them chattering nonstop to one another, completely incomprehensible to me, though I think my mother understood most of it. A few phrases remain with me: Gehennam deh, which I’m pretty sure means Go to hell. I recall she had a pet name for me: Shaitan. (I think that one is self-explanatory.) Ullee ullee itzam boolah was the beginning of a lullaby–I’d love to know what that means. Since her name was Hadicia Salich, I’m suspect that Dowanee means grandma.

Oh how the woman could cook! The Russians are geniuses with flour and meat. Peromesh and peroshkee involved variations of wrapping hamburger in dough and frying it. Lamb meat pies were my all-time favorite, and I selected them as the main course of my birthday dinner for about ten years in a row. Pielmanie was a soup involving hamburger wrapped in dough and cooked in chicken broth. A few years before my mother died, we spent a New Year’s Eve together making and eating pielmanie. Nothing triggers nostalgia like food. I cannot stomach the taste of beets, but put a good bowl of borscht in front of me and I am ravenous. Dowanee’s breakfasts were as satisfying as her dinners. Apple pancakes, egg/cottage cheese blintzes, the perfect soft-boiled egg–memorable delights that leave me wondering why I don’t scour the countryside for them today. My daughter took us to a Russian restaurant in Toronto a few years ago, and it was some of the best restaurant food I’ve had.

Though most of Dowanee’s munificence was directed toward Miriam, the rest of us would occasionally find her favor. There was a Woolworth’s 5 & 10 cent store within walking distance of our house. If you were the one to accompany her, you’d come away with some kind of reward, so we would vie for that privilege. Once when I was her escort, I selected a bag of marbles as my gift. We were stopped at the door as we were exiting, and my bag of marbles was pulled from Dowanee’s rather large purse. We were taken to a room in the back of the store, and when my mom finally showed up, she was told that Dowanee was no longer allowed to shop at Woolworth’s unless my mom accompanied her. Dowanee was a klepto!

When we moved from Drexel Hill to Florissant, Missouri before my senior year of high school, Dowanee was exiled to the West Coast. She did not move in with Uncle Hafe but got her own apartment in Burlingame, a good hour away from him. I don’t know what the financial arrangement was, but it wouldn’t surprise me to learn my parents picked up the entire tab.

I couldn’t say where I fell in the hierarchy of Dowanee’s affections. Certainly not one of her favorites, but I can recall no grudge or antipathy emanating from her. I suppose we remained hazily aware of each other’s existence. In the spring of 1969, I dropped out of the University of Missouri and hitchhiked to San Francisco to check out the hippies. After a painfully uncomfortable four or five nights at my uncle’s house, I decided that the West Coast wasn’t for me, and I hitchhiked down to Burlingame on my way back to Missouri. I spent a weekend with Dowanee. Stunned by how overjoyed she was to see me, I was also struck by how dark she kept her apartment, how lonely she was, and how well she treated me. When I said goodbye and slung my duffel bag over my shoulder in her doorway, she cried. I cried too. I never saw her again.

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The Covid War

You hear that phrase frequently, but do you extend the metaphor?

We use war as a metaphor all the time—football games, pricing competitions, political issues, even family squabbles. This is one time I like the metaphor. We are truly in deadly combat. We need to come together and present a united front against an enemy that is insidious, pervasive, merciless and lethal. This is the most righteous war we can fight. We are not defending ourselves against someone who sees things differently than we do. The enemy is a virus.

This seems such an obvious question: How should we support a righteous war?

1) By supporting our soldiers – almost everybody acknowledges our healthcare workers as our frontline. They are engaged in hand to hand combat. I would add our scientists and medical researchers because we need a cure more than better defenses. And , of course, our army includes our service providers, who keep our country going while we are locked down in our houses. How much of the federal bailout money is going to the front line—in combat pay, for research, for supplies, for proper staffing, for honor?

2) By distrusting our politicians – I can’t think of a single historical conflict where the politicians were considered a positive force in getting things settled. I don’t think the politicians on either side in this country are making a very good showing in this crisis (well, maybe a few of them). We have to make a distinction between distrusting our politicians and listening to those in authority. Most of the directives we are getting about staying safe are coming from the scientific community through the government. The folly of those leaders who choose to ignore the scientific evidence is being revealed pretty dramatically. I hope they are held accountable at the polls.

3) By being individually committed — each one of us needs to decide that we have a role in fighting this war. The most obvious contribution we can make is doing our part to stop the virus: you know the drill—wear a mask, social distance, wash your hands, avoid unnecessary contact, quarantine if needed. We combat the virus by not getting infected and, if we do get infected, by not passing it on. Of course, we can do much more. We can contribute to those less fortunate; we can reach out to those we know who are alone or hurting; we can encourage and care for each other; we can vote for responsible leadership; we can support the economy in safe, acceptable ways. We can commit to the cause.

4) By pulling together – I’ve always been inspired by stories of how the country came together to support the war effort during both World Wars. I remember clearly how divided and torn we were by Vietnam, an unjust and unpopular war. I repeat: this is the most righteous war ever. An unnecessary death is a greater loss than a missed paycheck. A gap in your education can be amended—the hole caused by the loss of a loved one cannot. We have a better chance of recovering a rubust, healthy economy by shutting down the virus than by pretending everything is the way it used to be.

5) By trusting – Alcoholics Anonymous teaches that in order for an alcoholic to overcome an addiction, the help of a higher power is needed. (I have some very specific thoughts about the higher power, but…) Humankind is not going to win this war on our own. Trusting our higher power is adding spiritual force to our arsenal. The power of prayer cannot be denied.

Have you enlisted? I truly believe that better times are ahead, but each one of us can play a part in making them come about sooner. If you haven’t already, I hope you will join the battle.

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