Monday, August 5, 2013

So long, Chuck ...

Chuck & Erma, Thanksgiving, 2012


(The text of a eulogy I delivered at Chuck's funeral service, 5 August, 2013. It was my first-ever eulogy, and I was honored and nearly overwhelmed that Erma asked me to present it.)
_____


A man of passion. That’s how I describe Chuck Friese.
 
Many of you are already shaking your heads, wondering:
 
“Chuck?  Passionate?”
 
Oh most definitely!
 
You see, Chuck’s passions were invisible to many of us, because he was a subtle, quiet, unassuming man. Chuck was no flag-waver, no grenade-thrower, and he was not likely to get up on a soap box and stir up a crowd.
 
But his passions were many, and they ran deep. I’ll share some in a moment.
 
Chuck was one of the most brilliant men I’ve ever known, possessed of an incredibly analytical mind. If you needed a problem solved, a problem of any sort, Chuck was your guy.  And he applied his great intellect to whatever task lay before him. He had what physicist Albert Einstein described as a “holy curiosity,” and it never left him, not even at the very last. (Speaking of Einstein, I fully expect that Chuck has already sought him out and is no doubt pointing out flaws in some of his calculations!)
 
Yearning for a solid education as a young man, Chuck sought admission to Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore. Unfortunately, he was told that his foundational work at his small-town high school was inadequate.  Unless he could somehow teach himself the required higher mathematics courses he had never taken, he could not even be admitted to the university.
 
Chuck crammed years of studying and mastering math classes I can’t even pronounce into a scant few weeks of one short summer. And when he took the entrance exam for Johns Hopkins? He knocked it out of the park.
 
Chuck delighted in sharing exam questions and problem-solving situations with me. One memorable problem involved a length of chain of a given mass dangling partially over the edge of a table. Chuck and his fellow students were to calculate, given the earth’s rotation, the pull of the moon phases, etc., precisely at which point the chain would slip and fall to the floor. I cannot recall whether or not this hypothetical was part of an entrance exam, a semester exam, or some other sort of test, but I do seem to recall that of the seven students pondering the question, our Chuck was the only one that derived the correct answer!
 
Chuck rose from a humble start in life to achieve great things in a great many endeavors. He worked for several renowned companies involved in national defense and in our nation’s space program, and eventually settled into academia and teaching as an avocation. Without Chuck and his talented colleagues, the Gemini space program, which led to the Apollo explorations and eventually the Space Shuttle program, never would have succeeded.
 
He loved to share stories about his exploits from his youth and from his career, telling of  things as diverse as building his first hotrod from scrap parts (I don’t think he was even old enough to have a driver’s license, but he built a car capable of outrunning the local cops) to helping develop a combustible paper on which the government could type sensitive documents. (He went on to recount how it accidently set an entire file cabinet on fire when the paper burst into flames unexpectedly.)
 
Chuck was a patent holder, and was rightfully proud of the things he had devised and invented that solved problems for others. He had a great understanding of HOW things worked, not merely why. If he created an adhesive, or a unique piece of wire, or a non-metallic coating, he understood exactly WHY it worked and how it did what it was supposed to.
 
And Chuck brought that sense of quiet, devoted passion with him in everything he did.
 
Dr. Friese was passionate about gardening, particularly his roses. He could amaze you with facts about each of the gorgeous named varieties he cultivated in his vast beds.
 
Chuck was passionate about  music, especially easy listening, big band, and pop hits from the first half of the last century. He bought LPs online and would digitize them and store them on CDs. We spent hours at a time in “mission control” copying vinyl disks and burning CDs, but never once could I ever get him to see any merit whatsoever in country music.
 
Chuck was passionate about cars and trucks and vehicles and airplanes and boats and anything that could be made to move under its own power. And he wasn’t satisfied to simply appreciate that each thing did what it did … he simply HAD to understand the “why” behind each little component.
 
Chuck was passionate about computers, believe it or not. He especially loved computer languages, so much so that he and I attempted once to make jokes using COBOL and FORTRAN. That project was not a success, by the way.
 
But Chuck’s greatest passion was reserved for his beloved Erma. Even in his darkest days, when pain consumed his entire body, his eyes would visibly light up and sparkle when dear Erma came into the room. He spoke often to me about the deep abiding love he felt for her, how grateful he was to have her in his life, and how he did his best to treat her like a precious princess. They devoted their lives to each other, and their love was evident to anyone who passed into their sphere.
 
One of my most memorable conversations with Chuck took place on the tailgate of my truck. It was a hot day, and we sat silently for awhile admiring his garden, the blooming roses waving in the gentle breeze. Men often think and say profound things on tailgates, but I can recall only two topics vividly from that particular day.
 
I quietly mentioned to my friend about the hereafter. “Chuck, we talked before about your salvation.” He nodded. “Everything all right? You all squared away with Jesus?” He nodded again. “Remember, Buddy, I’m your deacon. If we need to take care of that, I’ll be glad  to help.”
 
Chuck  snapped at me, “I’m good. We already talked about it.”
 
“Got it. Won’t bring it up again.”
 
(Chuck had little tolerance for covering the same ground twice.)
 
After a moment, I said something about Erma being away with her girlfriends for the morning.
 
Chuck nodded. “I love that girl,” he said, “with a passion. I owe her everything.”
 
I put my hand on his shoulder – the “good” one – and agreed.
 
Gentle people, let us learn from Chuck’s quiet, understated example.
 
Pick your passions, and devote yourself to them.
 
Life is short.
 
Live hard.
 
Love harder.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

A Real Gem of a Program



I’m not particularly a fan of “popular media” (i.e., television, movies, etc.). It’s just my personal opinion, but most everything I see and hear and experience is pretty much garbage. Not worth my time, and definitely not “in line” with my personal beliefs and values.

But every now and then, thankfully, there are exceptions!

You may or may not have heard of “Duck Dynasty,” since not everyone in America has cable television or satellite service (it’s not on a “broadcast” network, if you’re old enough to understand the difference!). I thought at first it was a relatively-unknown little “jewel” floating in a sea of crud (see my earlier post about the vast wasteland of television!).

I can’t recall exactly how I first came across it last autumn (probably surfing for the least-objectionable program on at the time!) but I was instantly intrigued. Anything with camo draws my immediate attention, especially if it’s my preferred pattern (Realtree® AP, for the record). And everybody onscreen at the time was wearing camo! :)

Seriously, it was the redneck humor that caused me to linger a moment. And I then settled in to enjoy the rest of the episode.

And that’s about all it took – “Duck Dynasty” became one of my favorite shows!

Yes, at first glance, the show is pretty much just the real-life saga (sort of) of a bunch of Louisiana country boys and their long-suffering wives. And kids. And townspeople. Pretty much just like the folks next door, at least around here. But I’m sure across this great nation the “Duck guys” are regarded as idiotic novelties!

But the appeal of this program goes way beyond the humor and comical situations in which our heroes find themselves. Way cool.

One of the first things I noticed is what wasn’t part of the program: it didn’t include any foul language nor any references to anything “objectionable” whatsoever. Astounding! The show portrayed older generations of the Robertson firmly and appropriately instructing younger generations on proper moral behavior and life lessons in general. And at the end of the program? After all of the comical and/or “tragic” situations were resolved? The entire family gathered the dinner table (imagine that!) and prayed and gave thanks for the meal.

I was floored! We just don’t see this kind of “family values” stuff on television very often at all, right? How refreshing!

These buffoonish, seemingly-lazy “rednecks” (and that is NOT a derogatory term in their world, by the way) drew me in with their clownish behavior, and then subtly and deftly worked in a little plug for their faith …which happens to be perfectly aligned with my own religious beliefs!

Very clever. Clever, indeed!

I showed my wife a “Duck Dynasty” scene or two (honestly, she wasn’t terribly enthusiastic at first) and she, too, quickly became interested in the goings-on of the Robertson family. I started recording episodes on the DVR, and soon we were watching “Duck Dynasty” together!

My intention here is not to try to explain to you what the program is all about. There are heaps of Web sites that do that, including several from the Robertson family themselves. Just Google “Duck Commander” (the name of the family business) or “Duck Dynasty” and you’ll see lots of cool stuff.

I’m blogging about “Duck Dynasty” in order to comment on the clever and effective way the Robertsons share their religious convictions with us. It’s subtle, but it works beautifully! When you read their writings about the program (and I hope you will) you’ll discover that the motivation for just about everything the family does is the sharing of their love of Jesus. Wow!

It’s not overt, it’s not loud, it’s not “in your face” or anything of the sort. It’s a simple “display” of what the Robertsons hold dear: their individual relationships with their Savior. They make no pretense about their priorities being anything other than faith first and foremost, then family, and then duck hunting! Haha!

I love it when believers share their Christianity through their actions rather than preaching. Living your faith rather than talking about it can be a very, very effective way to witness. That approach can motivate non-believers to sometimes ask, “Why are you so happy and content with your life? What do you know that I don’t?” Perfect. Love it!

I was thrilled in December when the “Duck Dynasty” season finale garnered the highest ratings of any program, ever, on the A&E Network! Wow! I certainly can’t determine any results of the Robertsons reaching so many people as they espoused their beliefs, but I’m confident that the millions who watched at least now know a little something about honest family relationships and a love for Jesus!

Not that the “Duck Dudes” need me to endorse their program, but I’m happy to do just that: If you’ve not watched, please, give it a try. (Repeats are running a couple of nights each week on A&E, and new episodes are scheduled to run starting in March of 2013.) It’s of course entertaining but it’s unique and refreshing as well. Get past the camouflage and silliness of the guys handcrafting those duck calls and I can promise you that you’ll find a real gem of a program. It might even make you long to be a “redneck” yourself! ;)

Monday, January 14, 2013

The Truth About Geico

Solomon


The most irritating thing that comes to mind when someone mentions Geico Insurance isn’t the über-annoying TV advertisements (although I swear if I ever see that reptile while I’m out driving around? SPLAT!).

It’s the vivid memory of being dropped by them when we were policyholders.

Yup. As I recall, we’d had our auto policy for several years, had never filed a claim, and had never been late in paying a  premium. What you might think of as “ideal customers.”

Well … less than a month before our auto policy expired, my wife and I got this curt but polite letter stating that Geico was choosing not to renew our policy, that they no longer wished to do business with us, and they thanked us for our patronage and ended our relationship!

Can you believe that?! I’m still not sure that was even legal for them to drop us like that!

We were furious. Enraged. And suddenly we found ourselves scrambling to buy another auto policy from another company.

We came to realize that Geico’s actuarial tables probably predicted that my wife and I were “due” for a claim – given the year and make and model of our car (a wonderful 1982 Honda Accord hatchback named “George”), our ages, our spotless driving records, our ZIP codes, and who knows what other data, Geico calculated that we were statistically likely to have a mishap of some sort in the near future. So they dropped us before anything happened. So long. Hasta la vista, Baby.

Fine. We moved on. Got over it. Mostly.

But one of the most annoying things about this learning experience? We still get Geico junk mail asking us to buy insurance from them!

How stupid do they think we are?!?!

Yes, they have the GALL to send us mail asking us to call them and apply for an insurance policy!

So to anyone from Geico who might ever read this: I don’t care how many idiotic TV commercials you make with cavemen, cavewomen, reptiles with effected British or Australian accents (have you ever HEARD of anything so MORONIC!), pigs that ride ziplines, pigs that fly in airplanes, witches that fly around broom factories, or anything else, you are NEVER getting one cent of my money again!

I forgive my transgressors, but I have a long, long memory!

And honestly, could you just once make a commercial telling us something ABOUT your insurance? I don’t think I’ve EVER seen an ad wherein you actually tout your coverage! You simply refer to it as “moron car insurance” (listen carefully – it’s at the end of virtually every TV commercial … and yes, I know I’m taking it slightly out of context but it’s about the only truthful thing in their ads!), but you say nothing about speedy claim service, cheerful representatives, full and comprehensive coverage – NOTHING about the supposed value of your insurance! I’m so tired of Carl the lion wandering around the grasslands in the dark that I could hurl! What the heck does that have to do with insuring my vehicle?!??!

Okay. Calming down.

Rant complete!

Beware consumers! I strongly urge you to stay completely away from these clowns and purchase your insurance elsewhere!

‘Nuff said. You’ve been warned!






Friday, December 21, 2012

He Showed Up

 
 
And there you have it … the significance and meaning behind Christmas. Wrapped up nice and tidy! He showed up.
 
Several years ago, one of my favorite pastors preached a sermon with this title. It was one of his finest. The simple message resonated very deeply within me. 
 
God, in his infinite mercy and boundless love for mankind, showed up.
 
He made it possible for me, for you, for anyone else who so chooses, to have an avenue directly into His kingdom.
 
God didn’t have to do this, you know. He did it because He truly does love you beyond all reason and good sense. He cares about you – every single hair on your little head – in ways that you’ll never comprehend. Cares about your spouse, your kids, your parents, the mean old lady in your neighborhood … everybody.
 
So, He sent his Son, our Savior, Jesus. Emmanuel. Hope. Light in a dark world. However you wish to describe Him.
 
God put Him (Jesus) on Earth to literally create a “bridge,” if you will, across the great chasm between us, down here, and God, up there.
 
You see, we are imperfect, all of us. Flawed. Goofed up. Messed up. Broken. Sinners. Scum. Unclean. Unacceptable. Downright filth.
 
Only perfect, sinless, spotless, pure things can ever get close enough to reside with God, our creator. And in our natural states, none of us qualifies. We’re all losers in that regard.
 
But … there is hope. A way. A promise. An outstretched hand.
 
That way is Jesus.
 
God put Him here, to “bridge” the chasm of sin between us and Himself. Jesus – and only Jesus – can make you and me acceptable unto God. Cleanse us. Rid us of our sins. And make us worthy to enter God’s Kingdom. If you ask Him, Jesus will gladly bear the burden of your personal sins, take them on Himself, and vanquish them forever, so that you – unworthy, undeserving you – can be presentable unto God.
 
Pretty cool, huh?
 
So yes, that’s what Christmas is all about. For real. No kidding.
 
He showed up.
 
And through Him, you may now have eternal life. Period. End of offer. No strings attached. He only wants you to believe, admit you’re a sinner, and commit.
 
Sure, I love Christmas fudge (you may read about that elsewhere on these pages), Christmas trees, decorations, lights, music especially, giving gifts, my wife’s famous Christmas cookies, etc., etc., etc. That’s all wonderful and good stuff. And God wants us to enjoy it. We’re supposed to have fun – He wants you to be happy, believe it or not!
 
But underneath it all? Behind it all? Whichever way you wish to look at it, lies the simple, pure, often-unspoken nugget of truth to his overblown holiday:
 
He showed up.
 
Merry Christmas, y'all
_____
 
(If you have questions about this simple notion, please, let me know, or ask someone nearby to explain it to you – a pastor, a priest, a counselor, etc. Or contact me. Seriously. I mean it.)


Monday, December 17, 2012

Why?


A rather poor-quality photo, taken with my mobile phone on a whim from my truck window while stopped at a traffic light. God constantly reminds me of the awesome things He and He alone can do.

 



"The secret things belong to the LORD our God ..."



 ~Deuteronomy 29:29
How could God allow a deranged madman to end the lives of 20 innocent children in Newtown, Conn., on Friday, December 14, 2012?
I don't know.
 
Why does He permit evil to thrive in our world?
I don't know.
 
What would make Him wish to call 20 precious children home, to His side, leaving behind countless grief-stricken families?
I don't know.
 
I do know one thing I can count on for certain: Ultimately, one distant day, I will be given the answers, and I will understand.
'Til then, my faith has to be strong enough to endure the heartaches of this world, reminding me to rely on the promises of He who created me:



Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait till the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of men's hearts.


~1 Corinthians 4:5 
On those things, I can surely count. HE is in charge, not me.
 
Jesus was brutally honest and straightforward when He told us in John 16:33, “You will have suffering in this world.” He didn’t suggest it was a possibility … He affirmed that it is going to happen.
By virtue of mankind’s free will, evil and wickedness are rampant in our world. They are facts of life. God didn’t create them. They are the result of the downfall of man, way back when in the Garden. We humans introduced horror into God’s then-perfect world. And sadly, we still have to live with the consequences of man’s choices.
 
God can and will use our suffering and our hurt and our anguish to draw us closer to Him. He longs for us to embrace him, as a child seeking comfort from a parent. He wishes deeply to ease our pain and our agony.
There will come a day in the history of our world where evil and pain and agony and horror will be destroyed, vanquished, and dismissed. But … we’re not there yet.
 
So, in the meantime, we are surrounded by the unthinkable. Unspeakable horrors and atrocities are committed, for reasons we simply cannot comprehend with our human minds.
And it is in this state that we simply must rely on our faith to sustain us.
 
I do not know how God intends to use the wickedness in Newtown to impact the world, but I am confident … I will stake my life on this … that He will ultimately use it for His purposes. For all I know, He is using it right at this very moment, speaking to you the promise of His future kingdom and the place He will save just for you. You can take the pain at the very depths of your soul and replace it with hope and assurance. Right now, right where you sit, reading this.
I know my future, and I know exactly where those 20 little children are at this very instant: at the very feet of God Almighty. If you’d like the same assurance, pray (or ask someone to pray with you) and ask Jesus to give you a sense of peace and calm regarding this horrific tragedy. He will do it, right now, I promise.
 
Paul wrote in 2nd Corinthians that he “saw” things only as a reflection in a mirror, but that one glorious day, he would see God face-to-face and receive the answers he sought. He realized that he knew only part of the equation of life here on earth, but that one day, he would know fully. He got it. He understood the promise of great things to come.
Do you get it?
 
Are you sure?
God is ready when you are.  



Tuesday, December 11, 2012

A Little Tap on the Shoulder

 



“Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are continually before me.”

Isaiah 49:16

 
Monday got off to a pretty lousy start. Hrumph. My 7:30 doctor’s appointment didn’t actually happen ‘til more like 8:00 (how can he be that far behind so early in the morning?!). I didn’t like what he discovered, so I was irritated by the time I left his office, and by the time I arrived at Sam’s Club, way later than I had hoped, the morning was looking more dismal by the minute.

I managed to snare a handicapped parking space, unlike the previous Friday morning. (By 9:00 on Friday, every single “blue” space was already occupied; I eventually just left and went home because without being able to park relatively close to the door, it’s just too far for me to walk on these lousy old legs.)

I made it inside the entryway Monday morning only to see the final two remaining riding carts being driven inside by other shoppers.

“Swell,” I muttered. Grumpily.

Sam’s Club is a HUGE store. Gi-normous. And without being able to ride around in an electric cart, I just can’t shop there. The distances are too great for me to cover. I need a cart.

To speed things up a bit so I can get to my point in writing this, let’s just say that after about 15 minutes of waiting painfully I did finally manage to get into a riding cart. The trip was salvaged, and I was able to pick up the Christmas gifts I needed along with a few things for my wife.

I was still irritated and annoyed by the time I rode the cart out to the parking lot and pulled up next to my truck. “I pay a membership fee every year to shop here,” I grumbled. “I should be able to get an electric cart whenever I need one.” (Why I think I’m so special, I have no idea. My father sure didn’t ever instill that notion inside of me.)

I arose from my weary steed and started fishing in my pocket for my truck key.

“May I help you?” a nearby voice said.

I turned around and saw what I would call an elderly gentleman (age is relative, I know … there are people who call ME “elderly” I’m sure). He smiled widely and looked at the purchases piled up in the basket of my cart.

“Oh, I asked, do you need to take the cart inside and use it?” I asked.

“Oh, no,” he answered. “You just looked like you could use some help this morning.”

Wow.

I think I actually did a double-take.

“Well, sure thank you very much,” I finally said. I was embarrassed that even to a casual observer my sour mood was so obvious.

I opened up the passenger door, and this kindly man started plucking things out of my cart, one by one, and passing them over to me. I took each and in turn, stacked them up in the front seat. He smiled the entire time.

It was a small kindness on his part, and even though I could have easily moved everything from the cart’s basket into the truck, he wanted to help. It was obvious to a passer-by that I wasn’t having the best of mornings. And he wanted to do what he could to be a day-brightener.

We finished, he smiled again, said “Have a wonderful day, and Merry Christmas!” and turned to head on his way. I thanked him as he walked to his car.

“Please, God, make me more like him,” I thought, “and less like me.”

The elderly fellow strolled over to a modest vehicle and entered. I noticed the “disabled veteran” license plate. “He understands,” I realized. “He gets it.”

I got in my truck and just sat there a minute. I took off my cap and smacked my forehead. I thought about the gentleman who eased my load and then looked at all the stuff I was able to buy and pay for in cash. What exactly was I complaining about?

Duh!

I am abundantly blessed in ways I can’t even understand. Yet this day, I was grumpy. God provides for me so beautifully and perfectly that I don’t have to worry about a single thing – I just sometimes choose to. And I mumble under my breath about how things aren’t fair. I lack for nothing in my life – seriously – and yet I complain when things don’t go “my” way. Even though in His own time and in His own way, my Lord and Creator takes care of every little thing. Perfectly.

What the heck is wrong with me?

God sent me a kindly, sweet man, just when I needed a firm little tap on the shoulder. Maybe he was an angel, I don’t know. But he snapped me right out of my self-imposed funk and brought me back to a beautiful reality.


“As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you.”
Joshua 1:5

God means it. And every now and then, when you’re feeling like nobody gives a toot about your lousy day and your petty little problems, He might just send somebody to tap you on the shoulder and say, “Hey, you’re not alone. We’ll handle this.”

Meanwhile, I pray that God makes my heart much more like that of the nice guy who pitched in and helped me realize that things really weren’t going too badly after all.
 
Yup. More of that, less of “this,” for sure.

Lesson learned. Again.