Chris Loehmer Kincaid's Blog, page 115

The Parable of a Grand Banquet

For several years, I’ve wanted to write about the Parables of Jesus. They are such beautiful stories which Jesus used to illustrate a point. Besides just sharing these parables here, I also had always hoped to examine them and bring them into a modern light. Unfortunately, my schedule from now until after Easter isn’t going to allow me to do that. I hate to be a slacker, but for now I am simply going to share some of my favorites with you.
And maybe you can pick up some nuggets of wisdom from the words of Christ. 
The Parable of a Grand Banquet, Luke 14 (New Century Version)
15 One of those at the table with Jesus heard these things and said to him, “Blessed are the people who will share in the meal in God’s kingdom.”
16 Jesus said to him, “A man gave a big banquet and invited many people. 17 When it was time to eat, the man sent his servant to tell the guests, ‘Come. Everything is ready.’
18 “But all the guests made excuses. The first one said, ‘I have just bought a field, and I must go look at it. Please excuse me.’ 19 Another said, ‘I have just bought five pairs of oxen; I must go and try them. Please excuse me.’ 20 A third person said, ‘I just got married; I can’t come.’ 21 So the servant returned and told his master what had happened. Then the master became angry and said, ‘Go at once into the streets and alleys of the town, and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame.’ 22 Later the servant said to him, ‘Master, I did what you commanded, but we still have room.’ 23 The master said to the servant, ‘Go out to the roads and country lanes, and urge the people there to come so my house will be full. 24 I tell you, none of those whom I invited first will eat with me.’”

Would you go to the banquet if you were invited? 

Kitty Down the Well, or in the Pit

I’ve been going back over previous blog posts, old family pictures and family stories that I have typed up, hunting for a good story to share. One that I may have not shared before or if I have, maybe I can expound on it.
I don’t know why, but this is the first story to come to my mind.
Because my dad worked on our vehicles on a regular basis (like a lot of dads did back in the day, before they made cars and trucks with so much complicated stuff under the hood), when he built the new garage, he put a pit in it. Just like going to Jiffy Lube today, he could drive Mom’s car or his truck into the garage, over the pit, and change the oil without laying on the ground. This thing was well-built, dug five and a half feet into the ground with cement blocks lining the sides.
As kids, occasionally, we’d play in it, though my claustrophobia never made it a popular place. I already shared one such story here.
On one particular summer afternoon, we were playing the usual game where my sister Pat was in charge and I had been arrested for some minor offense. I would need to be held in the pit. I started down the wooden ladder, wondering once again how I was so hard up for friends that Pat was my BFF, when I looked behind me to the cement bottom. A black and white kitten curled there.
Only it wasn’t a kitten. I scrambled up the ladder as fast as I could, colliding with Pat.
“Get back down there,” she commanded.
“Do you see what’s there already?”
She looked. “Huh. Go figure.”
Skunks and other wildlife occasionally fell into the pit, perhaps on the hunt for left behind treats. Dad would lower a long plank into the hole and we would wait in the house or somewhere else out of the way for the errant animal to climb out on its own.
Luckily, we never stepped on any of those critters. But wasn’t that a fun time to be a kid?  This is the only picture of our garage that I could lay eyes on in a jiffy.
 I think I may have shared it before, but it's worth seeing again.
Aren't we beauties? 

Laughter - the best medicine

 It seems I have only been sharing stories of sadness lately. I apologize for that. When thinking about my mom, I picture her laughing more than crying, so I should be paying tribute to her in laughter rather than in tears. I’ve been racking my brain for a good story. Here’s the first one that’s come to mind.
My mom, my daughter and I went to Virginia for spring break in 2008. Val was a senior in high school and wanted to go somewhere fun. Mom had relatives in Virginia who she hadn’t seen in a long time. It seemed like a good place to go, and after visiting the relatives and doing a little tourist stuff, we could chill out at Virginia Beach.
 Well, we certainly did chill out. I knew it wouldn’t be balmy in March, but I thought it would be at least tolerable along the Atlantic coast. It was so ridiculously cold and windy. I can’t believe Val worn flip-flops the day we visited Jamestown.    So we were just coming out of one of these buildings, the wind buffeted us a little bit, and Mom started laughing hysterically. She couldn’t get a grip, she just kept cackling.
“Mom, what happened?” both Val and I asked, though we were laughing by then just as hard, for no good reason other than that laughter is contagious.
Mom finally got it together and took a few deep breaths. In the cold, all of our noses had been running. As we stepped out of that building, the wind caught Mom’s nasal drainage and carried her snot off like a kite in the wind.
I guess you had to be there. But just so you know, at times, Mom had a wicked sense of humor. 

The Parable of the Good Samaritan

Today is the first Sunday in Lent. The next six weeks are a time for Christians to reflect on the life of Christ as He journeyed to the cross. I like to write around a central theme during Lent, but it snuck up on me this year, so I am scrabbling today.
For several years, I’ve wanted to write about the Parables of Jesus. They are such beautiful stories which Jesus used to illustrate a point. Besides just sharing these parables here, I also had always hoped to examine them and bring them into a modern light. Unfortunately, my schedule the next six weeks isn’t going to allow me to do that. I hate to be a slacker, but for now I am simply going to share some of my favorites with you.
 Enjoy. Oh, and my pictures might not have much to do with the story; I just picked out some of my prettiest flower scenes from over the years. 
The Parable of the Good Samaritan, Luke 10 (New Century Version Bible)
25 Then an expert on the law stood up to test Jesus, saying, “Teacher, what must I do to get life forever?”
26 Jesus said, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?”
27 The man answered, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength, and all your mind. Also love your neighbor as you love yourself.”
28 Jesus said to him, “Your answer is right. Do this and you will live.”
29 But the man, wanting to show the importance of his question, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
30 Jesus answered, “As a man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, some robbers attacked him. They tore off his clothes, beat him, and left him lying there, almost dead. 31 It happened that a priest was going down that road. When he saw the man, he walked by on the other side. 32 Next, a Levite came there, and after he went over and looked at the man, he walked by on the other side of the road. 33 Then a Samaritan traveling down the road came to where the hurt man was. When he saw the man, he felt very sorry for him. 34 The Samaritan went to him, poured olive oil and wine on his wounds, and bandaged them. Then he put the hurt man on his own donkey and took him to an inn where he cared for him. 35 The next day, the Samaritan brought out two coins, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of this man. If you spend more money on him, I will pay it back to you when I come again.’”
36 Then Jesus said, “Which one of these three men do you think was a neighbor to the man who was attacked by the robbers?”
37 The expert on the law answered, “The one who showed him mercy.”

Are you the good Samaritan? 

Transitions

 A week ago this past Monday was my mom’s funeral. The next day we emptied out her apartment. A week ago today I went back into her apartment, cleaned it head to toe and turned over the keys to the caretaker.

I also disconnected her phone. After doing so, I naturally had to call back to her number from my cell phone to see what would happen. “The number you have reached has been disconnected.” I guess that’s the message I expected to hear, but I still didn’t like it.
By noon, I had everything out of Mom’s apartment except for the vacuum and a few cleaning supplies. I got to her door, propelling the vacuum back and forth, back and forth. Back and forth. Back. And. Forth.
“You are going to wear out that carpet,” the voice in my head told me. “It is clean enough.”
Back and forth.
“Chris,” there was that voice again. “You need to leave now.”
Back and forth.
“Get a grip. It’s just her apartment.”
Back and forth.
“Chris . . . “
All right already. I turned off the vacuum, unplugged it, rolled up the cord, took it out into the hallway, and pulled the locked door shut behind me. 

Fleeting

I’ve never been a fan of the amaryllis. My idea of a flowering plant is a plant that has both flowers which bloom periodically and leafy foliage which it maintains year-round. The only amaryllis plants I’ve seen grow tall stalks, break out in flowers after a couple weeks and then wilt and die.
I found it humorous that the websites I found which talked about the amaryllis claim that it is easy to care for. The directions sounded rather convoluted to me. And the payback seems to be little.
My mom, however, loved the amaryllis and seemed to get one frequently for Christmas. She thrived on the anticipation of watching it grow on a daily basis, waiting for the flowers to bloom. And then it was over.
Granted the flowers are beautiful, but I’m always left asking, what now? But maybe that’s part of the beauty. That it was fleeting. That it would be there one day and gone the next. 
Hard for me to believe that it was only a few weeks ago, when I spent an entire weekend at Mom’s, that her amaryllis went from this...   to this ...
 to this in only a day.
Two days later, it was gone. And so was Mom. 
Maybe that was all part of the plan. 

Returning to the Land of the Living

 I remain confident of this:    I will see the goodness of the Lord    in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord;    be strong and take heart    and wait for the Lord. Psalm 27:13-14New International Version (NIV)
If you read my last blog post – okay, it was the one that my dog wrote a week ago – you know that my mom passed away on February 15. As Dino mentioned, Mom was at our house for dinner on January 15 and the very next day her health began to plummet.
I’ve had a lot going on since then. Reading back over my blog posts since that day, it may or may not have been easy to pick up on my struggles and my stress. I plowed through each day and each turn of the corner for Mom, the ups and downs.
Though not evident in this particular post, what got me through was journaling. I spent four nights and the majority of four days with Mom near the end, and when she was asleep I had my trusty laptop in my lap, my fingers flying over the keys. Thoughts and feelings that I wanted to capture in those moments, but not necessarily share, at least not in the immediate future.
In the file where I write these posts, I have a short list of Bible verses to pull from when nothing comes to mind. The above verse was one of them. God is good. He gives me – He gives all of us – what we need when we need it.
And now, it is time for me to return to the land of the living, always remembering Mom, but turning my attention to what lies ahead.
Lord, God, thank You for every breath we take on this earth and thank You for the promise of eternal life so we will always be in the land of the living. Amen
My mom's favorite picture of her and Dad, and the only one she gave me permission to share at her funeral. 

Dino saves the day

It’s Dino here, helping Mom out. She feels really bad that she hasn’t blogged in so long. Ok, it’s really only been a week, but to her it feels like so much longer and she has enough on her plate that she doesn’t need to feel guilty about something so little.
So, here’s the deal. Mom’s mom, Granma Loehmer, died Wednesday night. The last time I saw Granma was on January 15. She came over for dinner and had a really good visit and I got to sit with my head on her knee coz she really liked that.
Next thing I know, Mom’s going nuts coz Granma’s in the hospital, then in the nursing home and then Mom was gone for four nights in a row, sleeping over at Granma’s. It was a mess. Poor Mom and poor Granma too. But Granma’s in a better place now, she has crossed the rainbow bridge and is with Mac, the dog they had forever ago, when Mom was just a kid.
So that’s all for now. Just wanted to let you know what’s going on. Mom will write once she has processed everything and has gotten caught up on showering me with affection.
Dino 

What I Know

Last week I had Psalm 23 on my mind. Today it’s this beautiful hymn. It’s a little long, but worth the read. Or skip to the video.
1. I know that my Redeemer lives;What comfort this sweet sentence gives!He lives, He lives, who once was dead;He lives, my ever-living Head.
2. He lives triumphant from the grave,He lives eternally to save,He lives all-glorious in the sky,He lives exalted there on high.
3. He lives to bless me with His love,He lives to plead for me above.He lives my hungry soul to feed,He lives to help in time of need.
4. He lives to grant me rich supply,He lives to guide me with His eye,He lives to comfort me when faint,He lives to hear my soul's complaint.
5. He lives to silence all my fears,He lives to wipe away my tearsHe lives to calm my troubled heart,He lives all blessings to impart.
6. He lives, my kind, wise, heavenly Friend,He lives and loves me to the end;He lives, and while He lives, I'll sing;He lives, my Prophet, Priest, and King.
7. He lives and grants me daily breath;He lives, and I shall conquer death:He lives my mansion to prepare;He lives to bring me safely there.
8. He lives, all glory to His name!He lives, my Jesus, still the same.Oh, the sweet joy this sentence gives,"I know that my Redeemer lives!"
(by Samuel Medley, 1738-1799)

The Youtube video may sound a little archaic, but it reminds me of Easter Sunday at my church. Ok, except for the harmony. So basically, just the trumpet. 

In Office to do What?

 I haven’t been terribly productive the last few weeks due to a myriad of issues on the home front. One tiny thing I did accomplish, however, was finally getting this framed, after it had sat on my kitchen counter for many months, since the hubby brought it home.

One thing that this proclamation doesn’t mention is that Lloyd switched from Republican to Democrat (or vice versa, I forget) at some point in his political career. Whether people agree with some of Lloyd’s policies or not, I think what says the most about the man is that he always worked for his constituents and not his party. What a change from politicians today.
Maybe if our current leaders in high places had their priorities on the people they serve instead of blindly following their party the world would actually be a better place. Maybe they need to be reminded that that is what they are in office to do.