Help Them

How do we explain or understand the aftermath of nature declaring war on itself.

Since I have a lot more time than you do, I've been glued to the TV watching the coverage on the Haitian earthquake. The coverage has been very good. I've mostly been watching CNN, but I'm sure the other channels provide yeoman's service as well. I'm always ready to criticize television, but not for Haiti.

The news correspondents stand in the devastation repeating the same short phrases tinged with incomprehension. Their lucidity gives way to vague repetition, their slick professionalism gives way to humanity. We live in a world where we use words to define emotions, but the correspondents' words are the emotions themselves. We connect with the on site reporters not through their presentations, but through their witness. We see what the camera sees, but aren't able to feel what the correspondents feel. We may get a glimpse of the terror and numbness in the Haitians eyes, but the correspondents feel that terror and numbness and so convey it to us. God bless them all.

They stumble over words and keep repeating the same phrases peppered with "unbelievable","horrible", "hellish", and "tragic". Their minds go back to the same phrases, as if by repetition the truth of the situation will form. Like losing the car keys and repeatedly visiting the places the keys should be. The reporters offer good witness.

As I watch, I think. What can I do? Me, recuperating from a sophisticated surgery of choice involving thousands of dollars while some Haitians could gain a footing on the future for want of antibiotics that cost five cents. Why is life so unfair? Why does this happen? I don't think the answer to those questions are of this world. Not even in scripture...the first place I would look. I think scripture offers the map to the answer, but not the answer itself.

I can give. Don't have much, but again the news channels list viable and effective charities (and also some that are scams). I've also looked on charitynavigator.org
that lists many (not all) organizations, their financial effectiveness, and payroll (shame on some of them).

I can pray. I don't pray enough. I sometimes think I need to use words of careful consideration and deference to God. I sometimes look up prayers of tradition and those written by others: all good. But I think all prayer is the same to God. It can be a thought, a silent pause in the day, a sound....even just the phrase, "help them".

Whether you have firm faith, little faith, no faith, or aren't sure what life is all about, I hope you hold those words in your heart and share them with God or what you believe to be a higher power...."help them".

"The bluest skies you've ever seen are in Seattle, And the hills the greenest green, in Seattle"

Since there was no Christmas newsletter in 2009, thought we would let you on the Mullen doin's. Donna and I didn't travel much last year due to my limited mobility and the economy being a bit dicey. We did establish some travel guidelines prior to any trips; as close to home as possible, no cities (concrete is not my friend), no flying (open space terminal flooring not my friend either), and no place where the sun wasn't shining most of the day.

We then flew to Seattle in May.

Donna always wanted to go there and I had fond memories from a visit 30+ years ago. When I revisit a place I haven't been to in awhile, I like to compare and see who or what has changed more, me or the place. Seattle won in all categories. Seattle wasn't fighting gravity around the waist. No proliferating gray hair. Not a wrinkle visible on city streets, no potholes. I limped; the downtown traffic, even at rush hour, moved with measurement and order. Store fronts and sidewalks were full of interest. Polite and unhurried pedestrians - cell phone affixed to one hand, Starbucks to the other - always at the ready in case someone lit a cigarette or dressed without fashion consideration. The city was still young without those attendant problems, still in puberty even after 30 years. Bad for me, good for the visit.

Seattle is surprisingly hilly. In fact a guy I was talking to on one of the buses while going to the Mariners game ($15.00 for a great seat!) explained to me that Seattle was just like San Francisco, but "without the Californians." Which I took to be a good thing.

Donna made me stay in a nice hotel downtown that came with a concierge desk and great views on upper floors. About once an hour a sea plane with pontoons would either take off or land on Lake Union and fly right by our hotel window. On our first day we asked the concierge the best way to get around. He said, "we have 78 light rail and bus routes". So although complete, public transportation was somewhat complicated. But Day two, armed with 4 maps, Donna was giving route numbers and directions to tourists.


Herein lies the best memory of the trip. I find a trip always has a memory moment, the first thing that comes into your mind when thinking about or asked about a particular vacation or place you've been to. Sea level sunset in Maui, a double-decker bus motoring around London, a beach of rain on Cape Cod. A moment. For Seattle, the moment came as we were waiting for a subway on the third underground level of a subway station and having a bus show up. Let me repeat. We were waiting for the subway and a bus showed up...out of the subway tunnel. My first thought being - does the bus know it is a bus and not a subway? Imagine. Donna and I flew over 2400 miles to discover a 12 ton bus with a delusional identity crisis. Go figure.

We did all the touristy things, mostly in the city, but did take the ferry over to the Olympic peninsula for a day. No matter where you went it was hard to escape the magnificent gaze of Mount Ranier. Like everything else in Seattle, it was impressive. We also went to the Univ. of Washington Botanic Gardens. There is an magnificent Japanese garden and an azalea walk that spans over a mile. The azaleas are interspersed with lilac bushes and all manner of evergreens and pines that background a wide, grassy trail.

We also ate out - restaurants around Pike's Market and in Belltown mostly. Tom Douglas's Dahlia (Tom "put Northwest cuisine on the map",... thank you Tom) in Belltown was very good. Dining tip- word to the wise-they sat us near kitchen. I didn't have enough black on.

Also noticed both at Dahlia's and another very good eatery, Steelhead Dinner, (near Pike Market, not seated by the kitchen, we must have been considered "cool")that the wait staff used the term "treated" instead of "cooked." You know, when they come up to you and give the specials and "featured" presentations of the evening..and also size you up for a tip; they will say something like this, "We have for your consideration Grilled marinated skirt steak treated with encrusted oregonzola, pickled onions and peppercorn aioli." I started to wonder if the food in the kitchens of Seattle restaurants are being handled by line and sous chefs or board certified physicians.

I "treated" my side dish, french fries, with ketchup.

Happy New Year!!

At this point in my life, I'm not enthusiastic about giving birth to any New Year's resolutions. I can't remember any that proved sucessful when made - many did eventually over a long period of time so maybe that is the real benefit.

Wrapping a wish for changed behavior around a date certain for this particular year would only make me think of my shortcomings more than usual (too much time to do so) and make attainment out of reach.

On the other hand if making resolutions this year is something you like to do and have done - I salute you! I know some of you need it :) If you want to start, drop me a line by email or "comments". You can share. Or if you are stuck on which bad behavior to reform first, I'm sure I can help. Always excelled at pointing out
peoples' shortcomings.

Come to think of it, I guess I may be making at least one for myself now.

If I see something during the year I wish to remember, I've learned that I have to write it down and set it aside for future purusing. The list is short this year (note to self - after writing it down, be sure to remember where it is set aside).

A character from the TV show, House..."Coincidence is God's way of remaining anonymous."

On blackboard in a children's room at church. "Preach the gospel. If necessary use words."

From a forum on a financial website - not attributed:
"A person needs 3 things to find happiness and peace.
-Something worthwhile to keep them busy.
-Someone to love.
-Something to look forward to."

I think happiness involves more. Good place to start though.

Happiest Moment of 2009

I actually know my happiest moment of 2009. Do you?

Of course I'm thinking of those moments without Donna.

My moment took place on April 26th about 8:30pm on a Sunday night. I'm just going to recite the thank you note I sent my sister's friends who have season tickets to Red Sox games. The Red Sox were playing the NY Yankees in Boston and there is no way to overstate the difficulty in getting tickets to those match-up games, murder for contract would not be out of the question. In fact seeing a Red Sox/Yank game has been on my "bucket list" for quite a while. Son Adam and I flew up from RDU, saw the game, flew back the next morning. It was wonderful.


"Dear Sheryl and Robin, May 5th

George Burns said happiness is having a loving, caring, close knit family in another city. Albert Schweitzer said happiness is good health and a bad memory. Although both good, they are wrong.

True happiness resided last sunday night due East of suicide bridge between Landsdowne and Hemengway streets within the confines of the 5th inning between 3rd base and home plate. Red Sox outfielder Jacoby Ellsbury performed the most unusual and magical play in baseball. He stole home!

The place expoded in excitement. Every seat was filled - all 36,884 of them and everyone rose as one in exhiltation. I did something I hadn't done in years...hugged the guy next to me who I didn't even know. I usually don't hug people I know! It was like Fenway Park was full of Catholics after the priest announced suspension of collection plates during all masses for the upcoming year! The rarest play in baseball and thanks to you both, Adam and I saw it! Thank You!

Jim"


Realize some of you are not big sports fans so I resolve not to mention baseball for the rest of the year.

Have God Will Travel 2

So I think the "more God, less Jim", should just be "more God". How do I get closer to God when it is something I cannot totally comprehend? Or worse, spend time defining, analyzing, and even attacking, ownership of theological bullet points floating around in the world? To try to do so with contentment as guide and find purchase in the shadow of God's love?

It is incomprehensible to me that something probably so simple is so hard to obtain and understand. A place without borders, no starting line, no finish line, no Indianapolis 500 - no line at all.

One way I'm exploring to get there is through a group at my church in contemplative prayer. It is an attempt to shutdown conscientious thoughts, open up, and let God be experienced. The process is easy - if you are reading this and I know you - zoning out is not a major problem for you...:). The rewards are not immediate, but can be deep. If interested, contact me.

--------
"I heard a nice little story," Morrie says. He closes his eyes for a moment and I wait.
"Okay. The story is about a little wave, bobbing along in the ocean, having a grand old time. He's enjoying the wind and the fresh air - until he notices the other waves in front of him, crashing against the shore.
"My God, this is terrible," the wave says. "Look what's going to happen to me!'
"Then along comes another wave. It sees the first wave looking grim and says to him, "Why do you look so sad?"
"The first wave says, 'You don't understand! We're all going to crash! All of us waves are going to be nothing! Isn't it terrible?"
"The second wave says, 'No, you don't understand. You're not a wave, you're part of the ocean.'"
-Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom

Have God Will Travel

I think I have a mind like the Indianapolis 500. Ideas seem to circle in my head for 500 times or so until one of them becomes a completed thought after it crosses the finish line.

Judi Gaitens, a facilitator of our Centering Prayer Group has a grandson, Mike, who was hit by a car while riding his bike earlier this year. He suffered serious damage and went into rehab after his initial hospitalization and now is at home and back to school part-time. If you want query God about His existence you could do worse than go to the Caring Bridge website,mikearneson@caringbridge.org. One of the entries indicated he spent "hours" in physical therapy each day. That grabbed my attention and I sent him a note about my experiences because I know what a grind that is, both physically and emotionally.
Back in the 70s I spent a year recuperating in an orthopedic ward in a Naval Hospital in Boston. I used to go to physical therapy to exercise my legs every morning and considered it a vast drain on my free time. The exercises were repetitious, boring, and painful. Most patients were marines who had done a combat tour and were not about to do any exercise regimen they didn't want to do, period. So one day the Corpsman singled out one of us that always complained the loudest, stared for a minute then yelled "Are you crazy?!!" (I think he picked me out because I was one of the few that were in the army and wouldn't give him that much of a hard time - and he was probably right).

The Corpsman's point was that we were exercising not for the the next week, month, or even year. We were exercising for the rest of our lives - all the sweat and pain
will give our legs the ability to take us where we want to go in the future and impact the rest of our lives. I wish I could tell you that I absorbed his lesson immediately and understood the importance. I didn't. Not until I got older, not until now. I don't think I ever knew the Corpsman's name because I don't think he ever gave it. He looked 19 years old going on 15 and when he came up to everyone, he only had one question, "Do you know any pretty girls?" But he had wisdom beyond years. Hope he found the pretty girl. I hope Mike got some encouragement from my note.

Life comes with a rear view mirror called memory. Sometimes I look. I've never understood people who say we should only look to the future. If you want to know where you're going, you have to occasionally check out where you've been. What I am going to write may sound egotistical because it probably is, but I'm trying to understand some thoughts and use words doing it so I am going to have to make a few short stops along that road. Both as I was writing Mike and now, after the operation when my legs aren't working well, I thought of some of the places my legs have taken me in life. They are in no particular order or importance and I'm sure you could come up with some even more meaningful than mine. It was fun and also gave me a sense of appreciation.

October, 1971, Laconia, New Hampshire: My legs took me by a meadow halfway up a hill on a brilliant autumn afternoon where I saw God show his A-game. From a stand of trees; birches, maples, and oaks; a whirling dervish of brilliantly colored leaves danced across the field as if keeping time to a wind song.
April 11, 1981, Winchester, Mass - For some reason my face has gone through life with the look of a bank robber, but as I walked down the aisle of the church everyone told me I had the biggest smile they had ever seen. My legs were walking me into marriage and into the arms of the prettiest, most wonderful person I have every met. I was lucky to share her life and I knew it. Still do.
My legs took me to Fenway Baseball Park in Boston, sit about 300 feet from the pitcher's mound and let me imagine what Babe Ruth's wind-up looked like.
My legs took me to my truck that took me to Cary, North Carolina where I witnessed my son do an unselfish act with no one looking. My heart soared.
July 31st 1970, Quang Nghai Province,Vietnam - I witnessed a medivac crew perform the bravest and most unselfish act of courage I ever hope to see. Facing certain death under fire, they were willing to give up their 3 lives for a small chance of saving one. No sense of duty or combat machismo defines their willingness to die for someone they didn't know. They're actions don't equate with any of life's mathematical computations: refuse the mission, lose 1 life, take the mission, lose 4with a small chance, a very small chance, of gaining one. We're people so we don't do divine things, but what they did (and probably repeated many times), transcended this life.
A few years ago on a cold January sunset my legs took me to a hill in Henderson, Nevada where I looked at the neon Las Vegas profile backlight the mountains across the valley. It was beautiful.

We all paint our own pictures, but God supplies the canvas and the color..and we get help on our brushstrokes. Did the Corpsman bring me to all these places? No...I did. but as I get older I've come to believe that we are all a sum of parts and other people have helped us to believe that our lives are built on a foundation of reliance, some reliance known, some unknown. We are connected in ways that are not readily discernible. Did God bring me to all those places? In truth I don't know but in a lot of cases I don't think so. Some of the places my legs took me God didn't want me to go and I lingered in those places a lot longer than I should have.

If I want to keep walking to God, to continue to close the distance, the issue isn't how much I was walking with God and how much I wasn't. The reality of the walk is that it is God's universe-my walk being a small part. Me being a small part. I'm fond of saying "less Jim, more God" is what I strive for in life, but that is not quite complete.

This is hard. I'll finish up tomorrow.

Email

As per request, my email is jmullen409@yahoo.com. Keep forgetting to put it in (see previous post). Sorry
Jim