February 15, 2013

• Blah-g (spiders, women, faith, & guns)

  Again??

   

  Actually, this snowfall didn't turn out to be much more than what you see in this photo. The reason I have the expression on my face that I do is because there was an enormous spider hanging from the ceiling. Seriously - I deal with a lot of spiders, most of them live in the basement and visit me at my desk. They tend to be ecru in coloring and not generally more than a half-inch long. This one was black and had a leg span that made you want to believe it was an umbrella. When I raised my cell phone to take the picture, I realized my hand was within a foot of this thing. You can see where our dog ran away from it. His tracks are in the snow. I made an attempt to dispatch the arachnid beast, but it was fleet of foot ... or leg ... or whatever. It got behind the refrigerator and I couldn't get to it before I had to go to work. Haven't seen it this evening, so maybe it found it's way out the door.

  

  I think this photo is one of it's family members.

  ((Shudder!!))

  Gives you the willies just thinking about it, doesn't it?  It'll be nice when spring comes around and these things can live outside.

  So ... what else?

  My poor Dodge Dakota had it's driver side window mechanism break. I love the truck, but after a couple hundred thousand miles, it shows wear. On the outside, other than a little rust, it's in pretty good shape. The interior isn't too bad either, but you know the mechanics of the vehicle are starting to go. It's a lot like being middle-aged. We still look pretty good on the outside, other than a little gray and a few laugh-lines; and most of us can still wear shorts in public without scaring small children and animals. But on the inside ... things like dairy, jalapenos, and beans don't treat us as the friends they once were. Also, one or two beers or glasses of wine and it's "lights out." But back to the Dakota ...

  I've replaced the mechanisms before. The electric window motors are the usual failure. In this case, the plastic pulley broke which complicated things. To remove the window, it needs to be in the "down" position to unfasten the screws that hold the bracket that hold the glass that's in the door that's in the truck that Jack used to build his house.

  Mine was in the "up" position. Now, while a challenge and like most things male, it was better having it in the "up" position than the "down."  In this particular case, we were dealing with nearly two weeks of sub-20 degree temps, plus 20 mph winds, and plus-or-minus 20 lb shovelfuls of snow. I had the replacement part on hand over a week before the weather broke enough for me to disassemble my truck door, do some contortionist mechanics to free the window, replace the mechanism, change the centerfold model picture, put the door back together and get back into the house before the next round of snow arrived. I was successful. I can now go "up" and "down" at will.

  

  There's the part. It's called a "window regulator." I like to think of it as Metamucil for electric windows. It keeps things running.

  The sticky note reads: "Window is stuck."

  This is because our security officers at the nuclear plant are heavily armed with weapons of greater-than-to-be-trifled-with-destruction, but less-than-mass destruction. One of their firearms looks like this:

  

  (not our site - but typical of a nuclear facility these days)

  So "yes" we do have a lot of these weapons to protect against the threats of terrorist attacks. Just imagine how safe things would be in the classroom if we could get our teachers qualified and trained to use them, and our clergy, too, so we would be safe in our churches, synagogues, and mosques. I know if my minister looked like the guy above I'd be able to pray peacefully, by golly!!

  But back to our site security officers. They do get a little edgy when one rolls to the security check-point and one doesn't roll down their window, so I put up the sticky note. It worked rather well. So well in fact, that when they saw me coming, they usually let one of the junior officers come let me though. 

  

  Oh ... don't let her smile and "Hello Kitty" assault rifle fool you! If I didn't have the sticky note, I'd be searched in ways no one wants to be ... and it wouldn't be by her. So yeah, we do have a lot of security at our site, and we seem to continue to build more and more. Truthfully, there is now more armament and barriers than the submarine bases had when I served in the Navy. I get scared just going into the plant, mostly because I'm afraid they're going to lock the gates and convert it into a maximum security prison before I can escape!!

  

  On an odd note, a group of security officers were in the training center for a class and passed by me in the halls. One bright young female face looked up at me and said, "Hi, Mr. Watson!"

  "Eh??"

  Very few people call me "Mr. Watson." Most are young adults who were once my Sunday School students. It took me some thinking to place the face, but I finally realized it was a young lady from our old church - Micah! I didn't get a chance to chat with her, but I'll look forward to doing so if I get the chance.

  @SaintVi said she was perusing some of her old emails or files and came across a church annual report that was written a year after we left that church. I'll spare you the details, but here are the high points:

  Part of the reason was because I have more liberal viewpoints than conservative Baptists - like I believe women are 100% equal in all spiritual roles, and that I believe the spiritual value of scripture far precludes the literal wording of many passages (e.g., Genesis chapter 1 and 2 and most eschatology).  The annual report said we left because we were in "church discipline." Which is partly true - I was stripped of all my leadership roles. But I could serve in the nursery or kitchen, if I liked.

  

  Oh, naughty boy me! 

  They neglect to mention, that in very pharisee fashion, they held a church congregational meeting and intentionally did not tell us about it. Prior to that meeting, the church leaders never spoke with us as a couple to present the charges laid at our feet. I had been in discussion with the pastor, but did not realize I was contributing to my own prosecution.  One of many great ironies is that I chaired that very elder board when each man was selected to serve on it. 

  But enough of the past.

  I'm very pleased with the Congregational United Church of Christ church where we now attend. Interestingly enough, I've been asked to substitute teach for their adult Sunday School class on occasion. The pastor said he'd be more concerned if I were not allowed to teach than if I were. That was encouraging to me. These past few months we've been doing a study on Timothy Keller's book "Generous Justice."  It speaks to how Christians struggle with being generous to the poor. It has passages like this in it:

  Old Testament scholar Bruce Waltke  concludes, after studying both the word mishpat and its kindred word tzadequa (righteousness), that in the Old Testament

  "the righteous [tzaddiq] ... are willing to disadvantage themselves to advantage the community, the wicked are willing to disadvantage the community to advantage themselves."

  Wow. Crazy talk, I tell 'ya! All this from a man who earned his PhD from the liberal, leftist, loose-with-scripture ... Dallas Theological Seminary. 

  Oh my!  

  I wonder if he's under church discipline, now? I wonder if was told? 

  The ministry work Chuck, Donna, and I have been doing at various assisted living residences and nursing homes continues to be a blessing. We hear a lot of really personal stories. The fact of the matter is that when facing the very end of life, a lot of the little things in life turn out to be the big ones, and often those things we though were so big, become very small indeed. 

  For instance - we've been specifically welcomed by staff members who do not attend church and various residents because our music and messages focus on experiencing the Kingdom of God that is now and upon reaffirming they are not forgotten (though many are abandoned by family, friends, and churches).

  Apparently, dogma and doctrine and political issues are still preached by many other ministers in these facilities. Oddly, few seem to care much about the topics that separate denominations and congregations. Imagine that.

  One man didn't come to our mid-week Bible Study because he was sure we were going to ask for money. After many months, he did finally attend, and does so on an irregular basis. Turns out he was very involved in his church both physically and financially. Some period of time after being in the care facility, all communication from them stopped - and with it, came his bitterness. 

  One woman insisted on giving Donna $20. We refuse financial offerings to the best we can. Like the Apostle Paul, we don't want anyone to say that we do this for the money. (I Cor 9:11-16)In this instance, Donna relented because the woman began to cry and say "I don't have anyone else to give it to." She had a profound need to contribute something financial. So - Donna bought a money order and mailed it in the woman's church. Within a week, someone from that church came to visit her. Guess they'd lost track of where she was. 

  And I could go on, but that gives a flavor of things.

  There are also the amusing things.

  I've been at various times, Chuck or Donna's son. (Chuck is the oldest, and I'd guess he's about 12-15 years older than me. Donna is 6 years older, so it's less amusing for her.)

  We've been offered the leftover candy bar or drink or meal of a resident.  "Umm ... no thanks. We just ate." "Are you SURE?!"  "Yeaahhhh."

  One woman "Margaret" has an ongoing crush on most men, but I'm a particular favorite. It's a little challenging when she gets up while we're singing, says "I like YOU!" and  begins to bump into the keyboard, mic stands, etc.  She's also got a grip of iron.

  Which brings me to a safety point - be careful when you shake hands with nursing home residents. Some are very frail. Others want to use you as their Hug-a-Bear.

  

  Guess it's getting time to close, but the safety point reminds me of ".... just one more thing, sir."

  

  I was evaluating some of our operators perform tasks inside the power plant. One of them, Pat, noted that a small drain cover had gotten offset, and could create a tripping hazard. He corrected it on the spot. Small potato. We recalled that our site managers felt like we were correcting small safety concerns, but not reporting them. Doing so would better show others that we really do care about industrial safety. So - I told him I'd report the good practice. We both thought it would amount to a "thank you" and another data point for an indicator. 

  And then Pat got a "safety parking space" notice. And then he got a $25 gift card. And then he got his name put into our daily newsletter. 

  I apologized for creating any over attention before he got his name on our electronic street sign, and on CNN.

  Whew!

  I think that about does it for me.  I had leftover enchiladas for supper ... and I am middle aged. Enchiladas have cheese and jalapenos.

  My "intes - tines" are going to hate me.

  • 7:40 pm
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