Day of Red

Grace and greetings.

This mornings church service went very well. Being the Day of Pentecost, I had asked people to remember to wear Red, for it is the color of fire and the spirit. It is also, the only day in the church calendar year that is liturgically red. We had the first confirmation class to enter to church membership in years; and we handed out red roses to the mothers, (thorns and all), and anybody else who needed a rose. Since we had ordered two hundred roses, we had enough for every body to have.

Then we were asked out to lunch by one of the members, and while waiting for our son to get ready, I quickly checked my email; there was a couple of emails from one particular member whose comments were enough to upset the rest of my day. I do not know what it is with me, I receive twenty to thirty wonder comments, but I remember to one that was critical. I do not know why I continue to hold on to the negative comments instead of hearing the thirty other positive comments. It almost seems like never being able to please a parent figure, regardless of how well or how much energy was put forth into a particular project. It just seems like you can not please the particular person, no matter how hard you try. Abraham Lincoln put it best, (paraphrased) "you can please some of the people some of the time, a few of the people all of the time, but never all of the people all of the time".

On the way home from the Mother's Day Brunch, we drove out towards Point Barrow, the furthest north one can be in the United States and still be on land. Driving out there, (about a seven mile drive), the frozen Arctic Ocean on one side of the road, and frozen lakes on the other. The land is flat, except where the ocean ice has push itself up on to itself and the berms where the plows have piled up the snow and ice from the road. All is white, except in the distance were the dark clouds mark the open water, where the whalers are out hunting. On the way back we were listening to the radio, as there is only one station on the North Slope, and that is KBRW. They actually have three stations, sometimes they all play the same thing. The two "main" stations switch back and forth playing NPR programing. So it was "Mountain Stage" or "Reggae Hour". My wife has always liked reggae, so we listened to that on the way home. As I drove, I still held the negative comments with me as well as other issues that held on to my mind. As we were pulling up to the house, a song that was recorded at a live concert was playing, and as I was ready to turn off the car, the singer was saying, "Everything will be all right. Everything will be all right. Everything will be all right". When I did turn the car off, my wife cried out, "but that was Bob." Bob Marley being one of her favorite singers, so I turned the song back on and we listened in silence until the end. The word phrase never was repeated again as I was expecting. So maybe God was speaking to me this afternoon through the dead singer, saying: "Everything will be all right. Everything will be all right." Maybe, everything will be all right. Now I am going to spend some time on my Nordic Trac and get ready for this evening's service.

Peace and blessings.