Posted in death, dying

Two sobering words

Posted on by William Douthwaite

As we rounded a corner early this morning, I saw an “Estate Sale” sign pointing down the street. I thought, “Those are powerful words.”

An estate sale follows someone’s death. Those words remind us of our mortality. Death is certain.

You can’t take it with you. Someone left behind a house full of stuff. They had no heirs or no one wanted the accumulated possessions. A houseful of collections, artwork, furniture, clothing, pictures, appliances, and tools would be sold for a small fraction of their cost. Anything unsold would be donated to a thrift store or left on the curb for trash collection. All of those things saved up for, purchased, and cared for are worthless.

That someone must have died alone. They survived the death of a spouse. Perhaps they never married. Family lived far away. Did they leave a pet behind?

How did their life end? Did someone discover them after a few days of not answering the phone? That’s sounds gruesome. Did they spend their last days in the hospital? In a previous post, I spoke of neighbors I’ve never actually seen. If they dropped dead at home, who would miss them?

As we walked down the street, I looked for more signs directing traffic to the estate sale. It might be at a house I walked by all the time. Maybe I knew the deceased. Maybe I had waved at them in the past.

Posted in oops

Open all night

Posted on by William Douthwaite

By the dawn’s early light I see the SUV tailgate wide open. I’ve featured unusual sights in front of this house before. It never disappoints. The front door is closed. No one is walking in and out of the house unloading groceries or loading up luggage for a trip.

The tailgate has been open all night.

I know it happens. It’s late, you’re tired, and no one is helping you carry in your stuff. Once inside the house, you get into a conversation, or you have to go to the bathroom, something on TV catches your attention, or you thought the other person closed the door. Just like that you forget all about the vehicle.

Until the next morning.

Did it drain the battery? Probably not. The light automatically turns off after a minute or two. Has a lizard or bug crawled in? Probably. But neither will appear until you’re driving down the highway. Is everything damp with morning dew? Yep. That’ll wake you up when you sit on the seat in the morning. Did anyone take anything? Maybe. Cars crawl through the neighborhood at all hours.

I’ve left a car window open overnight. On occasion I forget to close the garage door. I’ll find outside doors unlocked at home. Lights get left on in the house.

We’re so used to automation that we forget what we’re supposed to do. Headlights turn on when it gets dark. A thermostat is programmed to control my air conditioning. My washer and dryer fare smart enough t figure out the needed cycle for a load. My toothbrush turns off after two minutes.

So why doesn’t my car have my back when my arms are full of groceries?

Posted in faith, Food

There’s so much more to come

Posted on by William Douthwaite
  • “Food distributors announce recalls. Do you have any of these products in your pantry? Details right after this.” You keep watching through two minutes of commercials, hooked by the announcer’s teaser.
  • The first thing you see at the restaurant is the appetizer menu. Looking down the list, you’re suddenly a lot hungrier than you were when parking the car.
  • As you browse the new fiction at the library, the paragraphs on the inside cover flap catch your attention. You want to find out more about a mysterious character in an intriguing situation.
  • A glimpse of a mom or dad gives you a clue what a young woman or man will look like in twenty years. For better or worse, that’s the DNA they’ve got to work with.

All of the above comes to mind when the apostle Paul describes the Holy Spirit as “the deposit (down payment) of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it” (Ephesians 1:13,14). The faith-working Holy Spirit in us is a reminder that there is much more to come. The world around us seems to unravel more each day. People let us down. Nothing seems to last very long. We too quickly lose the ones we love.

On the other hand, God holds the universe together. He’s faithful and eternal. Nothing can separate us from his steadfast love that never ceases. His new morning mercies make us stay tuned for more details, create a craving in us for more, lead us to read the book, and imagine what we’ll be like one day.

Posted in faith

Open the eyes of my heart, Lord

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe” (Ephesians 1:18,19).

I’m intrigued by Paul’s prayer that God would enlighten the eyes of their hearts. Hearts don’t see very well. Hearts don’t have eyes.

So I wonder, what can you see with your heart?

  • When my eyes see someone who looks a little rough around the edges, my heart can see with compassion. That person has a story that I haven’t yet heard.
  • When my eyes see someone sitting alone, my heart might see someone who needs a friend. Or at least acknowledgement that someone notices them.
  • When my eyes see death, my heart sees the living family and friends who will miss them.
  • When my eyes can’t see those who live far away, my mind remembers their faces and voices, and in my heart they seem so close.

Paul’s metaphor refers to those things that are real even if you can’t see them with your eyes. Things like hope, a future, and divine power. So much happens in this world that is completely out of our control. Yet, we have hope, because we know God has a handle on it. The future is so uncertain. Yet, we know God guarantees us a future. We might feel helpless, yet his divine power gives us strength.

Our faith vision — that is, the eyes of our hearts — is 20/20. Christ’s resurrection is a pair of glasses that helps us see a meaningful past, a wonderful future, and a hopeful today.

“Open the Eyes of My Heart, Lord”

Posted in noticing

Surprised by Silence: The E-Bike Encounter

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I didn’t hear him coming up behind me. I jumped as the e-bike sped by my right side, just a few feet away. Neither the motor nor the tires on the street made a sound. With no lights or reflectors, the rider disappeared into the predawn darkness.

It was early Sunday, so no one was on the way to work. No trash trucks or school busses making the rounds. No kids on electric scooters on the way to school. We turned the clocks ahead for daylight savings time, so even the sun wouldn’t be up for another hour. Who’s going to be out on a bike?

It could have been someone on their way home after a party that lasted till dawn. Or the guy who has to open up the fast food restaurant. Someone who’s car broke down? Worship team member on their way to warm-up? Couldn’t sleep, so they went for a ride?

I don’t get caught off guard like that very often. I like to think I’ve got good situational awareness. I usually notice what’s going on around me. My dog catches what I miss. She usually smells who’s coming before we catch sight of anyone. But this guy surprised both of us.

I don’t like to be surprised like that. But I do like the challenge of being more aware of what’s going on around me.

Posted in noticing

Flamingos

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Okay. So, let’s talk yard flamingos.

First of all, is it flamingo or flamingoes? Either is acceptable, but flamingos is more common. It’s good to get that out of the way.

Here in Florida, yard flamingos are common. Until March 2026, the Northern Mockingbird was the state bird. But the state house and senate just passed legislation making the American Flamingo the new state bird. This is just one very important issue the state government in Tallahassee must address. But this post isn’t about politics. It’s about flamingos!

Here in northeast Florida, people love to put metal, plastic, and ceramic flamingos in their front yards. Some have been there for a long, long time. They are faded and rusty. Others are fresh pink plastic versions of the birds we love to see at the zoo in Jacksonville.

Flamingos are pink mostly because they eat brine shrimp.

The collective noun for flamingos is a flamboyance. I love that!

Plastic pink flamingos were first made by Don Featherstone in 1957 (that’s when I was born!). They were designed to be tacky, but also to indicate ownership with no mortgage.

Some say flamingos communicate your courage to be who you are, live your color (what color am I?), and be connected to a flock.

I like all of those directives. However, most of the flamingos in front yards are old, worn, and weathered. They are tired memories of well-intentioned front yard decorating ideas.

One of my granddaughters combined flamingos and penguins into a mythical “flaminguin”. Can you imagine a flamingo in a black and white tuxedo? Or a pink and white penguin? I can. It’s awesome!

Posted in Grace

Grace and peace

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ” (Ephesians 1:23).

The apostle Paul begins most of his New Testament letters with this or a similar phrase. I used those words to start many of my sermons, too. To be honest, I’ve always glossed over Paul’s initial greetings to get to the meat of the book of the Bible.

But reading through Ephesians this time, using a bible study app*, I paused to consider the importance of “grace” and “peace.”

What would happen if you brought grace and peace into your relationships and conversations? What if you brought something positive that someone didn’t deserve instead of complaints or criticism? That would definitely be a gift, or, as they say, grace. Your encouragement might bring peace, something that settles a heart or soul.

Here’s the bonus. If you bring grace and peace to a situation, that will be your take home. Preaching God’s grace and the peace we have through Christ hits home with me as well as my audience. I need to hear and believe those truths, too.

Anything that brings grace and peace is powerful. Anyone who brings grace and peace are welcome additions to any gathering. Maybe I could be that anyone. Maybe you could.

*WordGo, an app from Bible Study Fellowship

Posted in neighbor, neighborhood

Anonymous neighbors

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Breno Assis on Unsplash

I have three new neighbors who live within one hundred yards of my home. Since the day they moved in, I have never seen them outside of their house.

As you (my readers) know, I walk my dogs at least twice a day. I pass by these homes in the early morning and in the afternoon or evening. I drive from and to my house and out of and into my neighborhood at least once a day. I see cars in the driveway and lights on inside the house. But I have never seen the people who live in these homes.

Do they never come out of their house? Do they spend all their time on the lanai by the pool out back? Does someone deliver their groceries to them? Are they alive? (On TV, people die in their homes and no one discovers them for weeks.) Are they nocturnal, awake at night but asleep during the day?

I know, I should take the first step. I should knock on their door and introduce myself. I should bring cookies or brownies to welcome them to the neighborhood.

But I don’t. I walk by their houses, wondering who’s in there. I naively assume that I’ll see them out and around. I’ll wave when they drive by. they’ll wave when I drive by. I’ll see them cutting the lawn, working in the garden, or washing their car. I’ll pass them walking around the block or gathering mail from the mail box.

Nope. None of that happens. Either they totally isolate themselves or they are completely invisible. I see no one going into our out of their house or garage.

I think that’s amazing. In this digital world, it’s almost impossible to disappear. We leave traces of ourselves everywhere, when we get cash from an ATM, drive through intersections, pay for gas, buy stamps, check email, text a friend, and follow GPS to a destination.

Aren’t there times when we all want to be invisible?

Posted in neighborhood

Mary has a prominent place in this neighborhood

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I’ve been noticing the statuary in the front yards I pass on my morning walks. One that piques my interest is Mary. The one pictured here is a full-sized representation of the mother of Jesus.

Why have a large (or small) statue of Mary in front of your home?

From what I’ve read, a statue of Mary is a profession of faith as well as an appeal for protection for that home and neighborhood. It serves as a reminder of Mary’s faith, encouragement to pray, and a witness to the community.

This family has constructed a small shrine. A nativity sits in front of it through the Christmas season. Colored lights illumine the statue at night.

I’ve never seen a statue of Jesus. I suppose that’s because of the commandment prohibiting graven images. St. Francis of Assisi has a spot in some gardens, reminding us his traditional close connection with flora and fauna.

A seashell sometimes surrounds a statue of Mary. The shell was a symbol of baptism in the early church. It also represented the sea, traditionally connecting Mary with protection for fishermen and sailors.