Category: Life

Posted in Life

A sensory God

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Richárd Ecsedi on Unsplash

I was reading Psalm 115 this morning and I was struck by how interactive the Christian faith is. It is not just words on a page. It’s not just stories in a book. It’s not just images of biblical truths on t-shirts or coffee mugs. We experience the truths of the faith because God interacts with us in sensory ways.

The psalmist backs into this by describing idols made by human hands. They don’t say anything, see anything, hear anything, smell anything, feel anything or go anywhere. They are good for nothing. On the other hand, God does all of these things and more. That’s why we can trust him to help, protect, remember and bless us.

It’s not subtle. God is dramatically different than anything else you can fear, love, or trust.

  • He speaks. He speaks words that create life, hope, and peace. We know that all he has to do is say the word, and something happens.
  • He sees. He sees what’s going on in the world and in our lives. He looks into our hearts and see what we truly desire. He can also see what we ultimately trust.
  • He hears. He hears our complaints, laments, questions and cries for help. He hears our praise and thanksgiving. He hears every request, too.
  • He smells. Prayers and sacrifices wrapped in smoke are a pleasant aroma to him. The stink of death doesn’t deter him from giving us new life.
  • He feels. He feels the touch of the desperate who need healing, the worship of the thankful, and the pain of the nails that held him to the cross.
  • He walks. He walks through crowds, on top of the water, and up the hill to a cross.

Created in his image, we see, hear, taste, smell, and feel, too. If we’re paying attention, each of our senses connects us to the Creator. They give us sensory access to his divine power and nature.

So what did I see, hear, touch, smell, and taste today? And how did it remind me of my God, who is so much more than any idol I might craft in my mind or heart?

Posted in coffee, Life

Back in the coffee groove

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“Ugh, that’s not very good.”

My first sip of morning coffee was disappointing. The brew was weak with a strange taste, not at all what I was expecting. But it was early, my taste buds probably weren’t fully awake yet, and at least it was hot.

Half a cup later, I decided, “I shouldn’t have to put up with this. I’m going to make another cup.” Maybe a rogue coffee pod had found its way into the box of organic dark roast from Sam’s Club, which typically makes a good cup. I dumped the water and filled the reservoir with it with fresh. I washed out my favorite coffee mug, something I admit I don’t do often enough. I made sure I pushed the “strong” button on the coffee maker before the cup size.

And then I thought, “Did I put a new coffee pod in the first time?” Of course I did. I always do. Yet in the early morning darkness with the day’s plans on my mind, was it possible? I looked in the trash can. I didn’t see a used pod in there. You’ve got to be kidding. No wonder it tasted bad. These weren’t designed to be used more than once. I had run water through a day-old used pod. The second cup tasted much better, confirming my theory.

I’ve never done this before. I’m a morning person. I don’t stumble through the dawn into my day. I hit the ground running. But this was our first day back home after a week of travel. I had to brew pots of drip coffee at the Airbnb. The hotels brewed fresh coffee for me in the lobby. I was out of sync.

I’ve got my coffee groove back now.

Posted in Life

The kill switch was killing it

Posted on by William Douthwaite

We had just walked in the door after a week away. I switched the thermostat from hold back to the programmed temperature. Everything looked OK. Until I walked back into the garage and happened to glance at the AC unit. I saw no flashing lights. Usually, there are green and blue lights flashing continually, a sign that everything is working normally. If you see a red light, there’s a problem. No lights? I never saw that before.

I did what I could. I turned the breaker off and on. I checked the drain which sometimes gets clogged, triggering a shut-off switch. Nothing.

It’s 4:00 pm on a Friday. I’ll bet I have to wait till Monday for a repair. I called anyway. They said someone might be able to get there this afternoon. I said, “OK, I’ll be around.”

Five minutes later, a tech was at the door. He had been at a house just down the street. Nice!

After I described what was going on, he got to work. It was a puzzle. There were no indicator lights to clue him in on the problem. He checked a couple a fuses. Nothing amiss. I went back in the house while he kept checking around.

When I came back out, he said, “I figured out the problem.” There are two kill switches that turn off the AC when you open up a door to change the filter. The switches didn’t quite close when the door was in place, leaving the unit off. It was an easy fix. The tech taped a piece of cardboard on the inside of the door so that the switches would work as intended.

I still had to pay the show up fee and for fifteen minutes of labor, but everything works just fine. It’s a little cooler out now, so AC isn’t as crucial as in summer. It’s the humidity that makes it necessary.

So I’m thankful Arctic Breeze had a tech nearby who could diagnose and make the easy fix.

Posted in Life

They found my package, and it wasn’t pretty

Posted on by William Douthwaite

This is a follow up to “The Case of the Missing Package.”

As soon as I returned home from a recent trip to Dallas, I planned to file a claim with UPS and get the value of the lost item and shipping charges I had paid. Every package I send comes with $100 of insurance. All I have to do is provide a couple of receipts, and the money should be on the way.

When I pulled in the driveway and opened the garage door, I could see a very large package wrapped in lots of white packing tape. My neighbor had brought plenty of packages in while we were gone, but we hadn’t ordered anything that big.

I knew exactly what it was. I opened the flap and peeked inside. Sure enough, it was the missing diaper genie I had shipped to a buyer in South Carolina. Later on I opened it up and it was damaged in several places and accessories were missing. A letter from UPS came along with it. The letter basically blamed me for not packing my shipment correctly. It was my fault, not theirs, so there would be no insurance claim.

The letter had suggestions for future shipments. The gist of the instructions: use lots and lots of tape. Tape up every edge, every corner, every flap with at least three layers of tape. If you don’t use up a whole roll of tape, you haven’t used enough.

I flashed back to packages my mom used to send me. Mom knew how to tape up a package. She sent boxes of goodies to me at college in a shoebox wrapped up in brown paper. She would tie heavy twine around the sides. She then taped it all up with a twine reinforced tape. I am convinced she did use a whole roll of tape to secure every edge, side, and flap. Without a very sharp knife, I could not begin to open the package. Needless to say, she was never guilty of improperly preparing a package for shipment, although I know she spent more on the tape than on the contents.

I don’t think I was at fault either. The shipping guy, where I dropped off my package, didn’t say a word. Okay, I didn’t use a whole roll of tape, but I’m sure I went around the box a lot of times.

The contents were only worth twenty bucks. I only paid fifteen for shipping. It’s not worth my time. But I assure you my future packages will be impervious to damage in the future. Some readers may remember the Samsonite luggage commercial with an ape tossing suitcases around. Yes, that will be my packaging goal from now on.

Posted in Life, memories

The joy of pumpkins

Posted on by William Douthwaite

There wasn’t much the grands didn’t enjoy about the pumpkin farm yesterday. But they were super excited to pick out and purchase a pumpkin to bring home. While gourds of every size, shape, and color were available, their dad let them choose one from the $1 mini-pumpkin pile.

It’s harder to pick one out than you think. Each grandchild changed their mind several times as they sorted through the huge pile. When they made their final decision, only the youngest actually chose a traditional orange pumpkin, about three inches in diameter. The others found oddly shaped multi-colored gourds covered in “pimples.” Each promptly named their pumpkin. We brought home Ice Cream Cone, Sunshine Pimpleberry, and Little Pumpkin. On our way out of the farm, no one let go of their pumpkin, carefully taking it along for one last tractor ride and time on a big wooden swing. The ride home was filled with conversation about each pumpkin, its adventures, and future plans. Once we got home, the oldest carefully arranged them all to create a photo spot in the front yard.

Why are kids so excited about pumpkins? What makes them so fascinating? I suppose that the traditional Halloween sight of a jack-o-lantern gives them personality. So we display them proudly inside and outside our homes. For a few weeks, we treat them like a pet before they are forgotten in Thanksgiving and Christmas preparations.

My college fraternity boasted an annual pumpkin raid each fall. After a few beers, brothers and pledges would pile into cars and caravan out into the central Pennsylvania farm country. In complete darkness, we would stop by a patch to abscond with what we hoped would be decent looking pumpkins. Back at the house, after a few more beers, most of the fruit ended up being tossed from the roof onto the street below. It seems silly now, but at the time it was great fun.

I read that a pumpkin farmer can net $240,000 a year from a well run fall festival and sales to processing plants. Not too shabby. From the prices charged for pumpkins these days, I can understand how they do very well.

Posted in Life

A visit to a presidential library

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I got to visit my second presidential library this afternoon. My wife and I took a granddaughter and grandson to the George W. Bush Presidential Center in Dallas, Texas. My first was the Harry Truman Presidential Library in Independence, Missouri.

This library has a much different flavor. I enjoyed the history preserved in the Truman library. I lived the history in the Bush center.

The center included Bush’s family background, the 2020 presidential election, 9/11 and subsequent war on terrorism, and a commitment to world environmental and health issues. Memories of those years flooded back as I looked at videos, letters, photographs, memorabilia.

Both of the grandkids posed for a photo in the replica Oval Office. They loved learning about the president’s dogs, the First Lady’s dresses, and what is happening in oceans all around the world. Someday they’ll understand how their world was shaped by those eight years.

The center is beautiful and well done. It’s not free, but not too expensive, either. It’s a whole lot better than just reading a history book.

Posted in Life, Stories

The case of the missing package

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The message caught me completely by surprise. “Have not received. Tracking shows still in Florida.”

I sold a used Diaper Genie with a few extra supplies on eBay. I had packed it up and shipped it out on a Thursday with the promise of delivery to the buyer in South Carolina by Monday.

When I checked the tracking number, sure enough, the package had been sitting in Jacksonville for a week. How could that be?

I used a third party shipper, so I went to their website to see if I could get more information. Sure enough, I found this gem of a notification.

How does that happen? How does merchandise just disappear from a box in a truck? Was this an inside job? But then, why would anyone steal a used diaper bucket?

Here’s what I think happened. I think someone tossed the box a little too aggressively, it hit the ground and broke open, spilling the contents. No one wanted to repack it, so they just threw it in the trash and reported it missing. Problem solved. Let insurance handle it.

I will be able to file a claim and get my money back. I just have to send a bunch of info to my shipper.

The Diaper Genie had been sitting in the back of a closet for over a year. No one in my family wanted it, so I asked and got twenty bucks for it. When I went to pack it up, I discovered it still had some used diapers in it! Yes, I wrapped them up and threw them away. But if I knew someone was going to steal it, I would have left them in there!

Posted in Life

Is that guy in a wheelchair?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Gabe Pierce on Unsplash.com

We were walking back to our economy Quality Inn motel room in Clinton, Mississippi after an average supper at a little place called Froghead Grill.

“Is that a guy in a wheelchair?”

Sure enough, a man was pushing himself down the middle of the street in a wheelchair. This street ran through a maze of even economy-er motels and ho-hum chain restaurants. The cars didn’t slow down much as he took cruised along the middle turn lane.

Every ten feet or so he would stop to take a break, and then start pushing again. As he neared the entrance of a convenience store, i could see he was a double amputee. I wondered out loud, “Do you think I should offer to help him?” Some are offended by such an offer. Others are grateful.

“He’ll probably want a handout.”

Good point. Naturally I had no cash. I know I should keep a few bucks in my pocket.

We barely made it across several busy streets to get back to our motel. This guy didn’t even flinch in the face of oncoming traffic.

Brave? Foolish? Determined? Fearless? Didn’t care? I’d guess all of the above.

Posted in dogs, Life, Stories

A double-dog dare

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Image by Yama Zsuzsanna Márkus from Pixabay

The sun was just peeking over the trees to the east as my dog and I walked along Bassett Lane. It’s quiet, earlier than most people leave for work or school. As we pass one of the most rundown houses in the neighborhood, two German shepherds come bounding down the street towards us.

The little guy on my leash is twenty pounds of curiosity and energy, ready to make friends with any person or beast. But I’m not so sure about these two, both about a hundred pounds. I’m rarely frightened by dogs, big or small, but this morning, I was worried.

I stopped to face them as Winston, my Westie, automatically sat. His tail wagged furiously as he anticipated meeting new buddies. I stood my ground and yelled, “Hey!” making the two shepherds pause. They only stopped for a moment before continuing their approach.

I figured they were in front of their house, so I repeated, “Hey!” and added, “Go home!” One of the shepherds turned and loped back towards the house. The other kept moving towards us.

I tried a different strategy. I commanded, “Sit!” And he (she?) sat. Relieved, I added, “Stay!” as we added a few steps of distance between us. I thought I was in the clear, but the dog got up and began to follow us down the street. If I stood still, he paused. If I began to walk, he wanted to come along.

This could take a while. Suddenly, I heard another voice saying, “Go home!” I had an ally, another dog walker thirty yards behind. Once the odds were on our side, the German shepherd trotted off towards the house. The other guy added, to no one in particular, “Keep your d*** dog on a leash!”

I waved as we turned to head home. I’ve never seen those two dogs again. But inside I’ll be at Defcon 5 whenever we’re walking on Bassett Lane.