The Re-Directed Duck

This weekend my wife and I saw an unusual site as we rode our bikes along Beach Road. Beach Road is a narrow single lined street with houses on one side facing the beach and railroad tracks on the other. There is a large block wall that separates the railroad tracks from our street and it runs the entire two mile stretch. It blocks people from going onto the railroad tracks and the only way out is to head north to the entrance gate. However there is a very small hole in the wall at the very far south end and sometimes animals come into the community through that tiny opening.

As we were riding our bikes we noticed a baby duck on our side of the wall, all by himself heading north. He was obviously lost and unfortunately heading north was only going to get him killed by incoming cars at the entrance gate. I figured he must have come through the hole in the wall at the south end and I guess I felt a certain responsibility to help him out. So I got in front of him on my bike and turned him around so he would head south. He got scared and started running and I have to say I have never seen a duck run so fast. His two tiny legs were scrambling at full speed and it was a pretty funny site to see. I followed him to make sure he made it all the way to the hole in the wall, where he disappeared into the inlet stream that washes out to sea.

I don’t know why that baby duck was all alone and I don’t know why he was on our street heading the wrong way. But I’m glad that I was able to turn him around and get him going on the right path. But doing that got me thinking….There are so many times in my life when I have been on the wrong path and yet looking back on it I can see that God always placed somebody in my life to inspire me, motivate me or lead me down the right path by their own example. Sometimes it was a friend, sometimes a family member, sometimes a pastor or a mentor and I can see now that they were there to re-direct me down the right path, without maybe even knowing they were doing it. I know it’s not possible for me thank everyone who has helped lead me down the right path during my lifetime, but at least if I try to do the same thing for other people (or ducks), I won’t be “ducking” my responsibility!

The Re-Directed Duck

"I must do something" always solves more problems than "Something must be done."

~ Anonymous  

   

Passion Play

How would you feel if you had a huge passion for something, but weren’t able to do it? I know life isn’t ever supposed to be perfect, but I often find myself asking the question, “Why do bad things have to happen to good people?”

I have a close friend named Danny who is a long standing member of our Halo Baseball Club. We’ve been playing baseball together for years and Danny stands out as one of the most passionate baseball players you’ll ever meet. He is always loud, always enthusiastic, always happy and always positive. You can’t miss him when he’s playing in a game, but then again you can’t miss when he’s not playing in a game either, because even when he’s not playing…he will come to the games and sit in the bleachers and root loudly for every player on both teams.

The last time we played together was last October in Phoenix. It was an incredible moment in our baseball lives because our team won the 55+ MSBL World Championship. Danny was a huge reason for our success, not just because of his outstanding play but because his positive attitude carried all of us through some really tough situations. It seemed like we started every one of our nine games by falling behind, but Danny never acted like it was a problem. His passion and enthusiasm helped us to stay positive and come from behind to win every game. When I got a walk-off hit (with God’s help) to win the final championship game he lifted me in the air and carried me around the infield like I was a feather. But the actual truth was that a car accident a few months earlier was causing him tremendous back pain. We celebrated together for a long time that day, but nine months later he still hasn’t played another baseball game.

At my game last Sunday, there he was in the bleachers cheering loudly for me and everyone else. I couldn’t stop thinking how unfair it was that Danny had to sit in the bleachers while we got to play on the field. Suddenly I had a curious thought…If I was the one injured, would I travel an hour on the freeway to be at every single game just so I could cheer on my friends? I hate to say it, but probably not. Danny is just about the only guy I know who cares enough about the game and his friends to drive that far every Sunday even though he can’t even put on his uniform. Danny is truly one of the “good guys”, which brings me back to my original question…and perhaps an answer. When truly good people face difficult situations, their perseverance and character serve as an inspiration to the rest of us…and I’ve noticed something else…they never lose their passion!

 

Danny...making a play at Angel Stadium!

And not only that, we glory in tribulation,
knowing that tribulation produces perseverance;
and perseverance character; and character, hope.

~ Romans 5: 3-4

 

 

Final Destination

I’ll never forget what she said…or the way she said it. It was more than 20 years ago and we had just started dating when she said to me, “You probably don’t realize it yet…but you are my destiny”. She said it with such serious conviction that all I could do was smile and nod my head. I guess she was right because we’ve been married now for more than 20 years and we’re still madly in love and totally inseparable. But what is the true and deeper meaning of the word destiny? Is it possible that many of the people we meet in our lives are destined to be there for a reason? I think it’s definitely possible.

Last weekend was the 4^th of July so my wife and I went for a long bike ride down to Doheny Park. Along the way we passed a crippled, homeless lady who was lying on a tattered old blanket on the hot asphalt parking lot across from the public restrooms. We had seen her before over the past few weeks, but the stark contrast of her dire situation just yards away from hundreds of happy Fourth of July beachgoers was a real shock. There were tons of people surrounded by their friends and family with food cooking and frisbees flying and yet here was this one lonely, disabled person, obviously hungry and absolutely ignored.

My wife suggested we ride back home and put together a care package for her. My wife is so great. She actually took a nice Victoria’s Secret black and white leather bag and filled it with her own clothes, socks, sandals, and bathroom necessities. She then filled a large grocery bag with food and I chipped in a soft blanket and some bottled water. It was hard to carry all that stuff on our bikes but we eventually made it back. But when we got there all of her meager belongings were still lying out in the blazing heat of the parking lot, but the woman was gone. I searched the area and finally found her wheelchair on the back side of the restrooms. Eventually she came out and I took a moment to speak to her and tell her that my wife and I left some “things” for her at her “spot”. She thanked me and seemed to smile a little. So I got braver and asked her for her name. She said, “Hill Jilly”. Our conversation didn’t last long and it was obvious she had some mental health issues, but her smile said it all…somebody cares! I know we didn’t make a lasting change in that poor woman’s life, but on that particular day, we did make a difference.

Yesterday my wife and I went jogging towards Doheny Park again but my wife wasn’t feeling good so she stopped short. She asked me to go on without her and check to see if Hill Jilly was doing okay. As I rounded the building I spotted her sitting on a concrete bench all by herself staring out at the ocean. I didn’t think she would remember me, but when I greeted her with a boisterous, “Hello Hill Jilly. How are ya?”, she lit up with a huge smile. We spoke briefly and I headed back but I couldn’t shake the thought that kept going through my head. Maybe if we realize that everyone we meet is part of our “destiny” then maybe it will help us to reach our final…heavenly…destination!

 

Hill Jilly's Parking Lot Spot

There's nowhere you can be...that isn't where you're meant to be.

~ John Lennon

Bandit's Bell

My wife and I are lucky because we can watch a great 4^th of July fireworks show every year right from our very own front yard. However, this year was the busiest 4^th of July weekend we have ever seen at Capo Beach. Thousands of people showed up to enjoy the beach and take in the fireworks show, which was long and loud. Perhaps a little too loud for one tiny little Chihuahua. When I went out to the street to say goodbye to some friends, I found the little guy cowering underneath my truck. It took a while, but I finally coaxed him out and took him back to his home about five houses down. They were so relieved to have him back and so extremely thankful that it reminded me of the time when I lost my dog but found something truly incredible.

I was 14 years old and living in a rural area of San Diego County. It was a really beautiful area, filled with lush green hills, avocado groves, and dozens of fishing ponds. I had a German Shepherd dog named “Bandit” that traveled with me everywhere I went. So every day we hiked the hills, explored the countryside together, and caught fish in the ponds. Since I had no neighbors nearby and was too young to drive into town, Bandit became my constant companion, and I loved him as deeply as any young boy could.

One day my family was preparing to go out of town on vacation.  We were only going to be gone a few days, so our plan was to lock Bandit in the garage and have a friend stop by to care for him. But on the morning we were to leave, I couldn’t find Bandit anywhere. It wasn’t unusual for him to go exploring on his own, but I knew I could always find him because my Dad had had tied a small - but loud - cowbell around his neck. You could hear that cowbell for miles but on this particular morning, as I climbed to the top of the highest hill, I couldn’t hear the cowbell going off. I called Bandit’s name over and over and began frantically searching. I knew we were leaving soon and if we left without locking Bandit in the garage, when night fell he would quickly become coyote bait. (We had already lost two cats and one other dog to the coyotes).

After climbing several hills and calling his name for over two hours, I was about to give up. I was totally distraught and scared that I was going to lose my best friend. It was the first time in my life that I actually thought about praying for help. My parents and I attended a local Church so I knew how to pray, but being young I guess I just never needed God’s help as badly as I needed it that day. As I stood on a dirt road near a reservoir high on top of a hill overlooking Highway 15, I could see for miles. I looked around one last time for Bandit…then I bowed my head and began to pray.

I’m not sure how long I stood there praying, but suddenly I heard the cowbell go off - right behind me! I turned around and sure enough Bandit was sitting right there wagging his tail and looking super happy to see me. I was shocked because I kept thinking…how did that dog walk right up behind me without that cowbell going off? Why didn’t I hear that bell? How is that even possible? I realized at that moment that while I might not have heard Bandit’s Bell going off, God heard mine!

Bandit...when he was a puppy,

The value of prayer is not that He will hear us, but that we will hear Him.
~ William McGill

One On One

Dear Joe,

I've loved your messages and have often been inspired. So today, I would like to send you a "message". 

Today before baseball practice I stopped at a Subway to get a sandwich to eat while driving to the Sports Park. There was a man that appeared to be homeless or transient, asking passers by for spare change, with little apparent success. I took a long route around him, to avoid a pointless encounter, because after all, I only had $20 bills on me. As I'm walking into the Subway, I'm thinking that's such a “convenient excuse”. Then it occurred to me that he's not panhandling anywhere near a liquor store. It's an outdoor food court with a bunch of fast food restaurants, so I'm thinking he's hungry. Right away, I decide to order two of the same sandwiches. If it's good enough for me, it better be good enough for him.

When the order's ready, I pay and proceed outside to the food court. He's still kind of slowly strolling through the food court and as I approach him I ask him if he's hungry and hand him the sandwich.  Of course weakness from hunger keeps him from jumping up and down, but he is quite obviously grateful. It made me feel really good because for the first time in a long time, I was able to directly help someone that needed help. But on top of that, there was maybe a larger positive effect. It seemed like everyone in the food court looked up from their meals and with a guilty look on their face thinking, I (or we) should have done that.

I walked away with hopes that some of the people in the food court would remember what they saw and how they felt. And that maybe the next time they're in a similar scenario, they'll show some kindness too. I haven't done enough of that lately, at least not on a personal level. Sure, I make quite a few donations to charitable organizations, but it feels so much more rewarding to be able to help somebody “one on one”. And I can see myself playing out this scenario on regular basis. Little things like this won't change the world, but hopefully they can be contagious…in a one on one kind of way!

Dear Bill,

Yesterday I dropped my wife off at the Laguna Hills Mall and as I was exiting the parking lot to head to my office, I saw a homeless man begging on the corner. I took out my wallet but saw that I only had large bills, so I put it back. But then I remembered the letter you sent me…and I immediately honked my horn, rolled down my window and handed the man some money. He spoke only for a brief moment, said he lost  his job recently and that he could no long afford his apartment and was embarrassed to be asking for help. Oh yeah, and he said, “God bless you” in a way that I will never forget. So thank you for inspiring me to do the right thing and you are right…one on one feels really good!

Remember, people will judge you by your actions, not your intentions.

You may have a heart of gold - but so does a hard-boiled egg.

~ Anonymous

Humble Heart

I am a 60 year old father of four so Father’s Day is pretty special and yesterday was no exception. As I looked around our house at all the people who had gathered there to help celebrate Father’s Day with me, I felt very blessed. I don’t know if I deserved all their attention but I do know that being the Dad of a loving family is a real blessing…and that having a loving Dad in your family is a real blessing. So I can’t imagine what it would be like to grow up without Dad. Unfortunately I do know what it’s like to have an awesome Dad - and then lose him.

My Dad passed away more than 14 years ago and yet I still miss him every single day. He was truly special for many reasons, strong and brave, intelligent and funny, the kind of guy who would give you the shirt off his back, and yet if I had to name one trait that stands out more than any other…it would be his humble heart. I’ll give you two examples.

 - In 1967 my Dad was a Marine Corps Lieutenant at Camp Pendleton. He drove a beat up 55 Chevy to work every day and since this was the era of Hippies and Flower Children, my sister and I thought it would be cool to decorate his car to make it look better. So we put flower decals and “Peace and Love” stickers all over it. Needless to say, when my Dad saw his car he wasn’t happy. No tough Marine wanted sissy stickers all over his car, but my Dad was different. He told us he appreciated the thought but that maybe just one sticker would be enough. We took off all the stickers except one big flower decal with the word “Peace” in the middle and off to work he went. We kind of figured he would remove that sticker before he got to the base, but he didn’t. That sticker stayed in place for years, an obvious example of his humility.

 - In 1969 my Dad was stationed at the Tustin Air Base and was in charge of a Helicopter Squadron that was preparing to go to Vietnam. One of the men under his command overdosed on LSD and tried to commit suicide by climbing to the top of one of the Blimp Hangers and jumping off. My Dad climbed up after him, 300’ in the air, and wrestled with him for hours before paramedics were able to subdue him. They gave my Dad the Marine Corp Medal of Valor, but he never talked about it. Not only that, after he passed away I found the Medal and a letter signed by the President of the United States, buried in the bottom of his desk drawer. He never talked about the Medal or the letter, just another example of his amazing humility.

During the last few weeks of his life, I visited my Dad every day at the hospital. Here again he was brave and humble, never once complaining about his situation or talking about himself. Instead he would always ask me how I was doing and what was going on in my life. As I sit here writing this Monday Message I can see now that he was teaching me the absolute best example of humility…that we should always care more about other people, than ourselves.

Dad...I love you and miss you.
Thank you for teaching me to have a humble heart!

Humility does not mean thinking less of yourself than of other people, nor does it mean having a low opinion of your own gifts. It means freedom from thinking about yourself at all.
~ William Temple



 

Turn Up The Music

I enjoy meeting new people and making new friends and on Friday night I met someone really special. His name is Frank Orrall and I consider him special for two reasons; he truly enjoys his job and he truly brings joy to his job.

My next door neighbor invited my wife and I to join him and a small group of friends for dinner and entertainment on Friday night. It was a really special evening because he hired a gourmet chef, but this wasn’t just any chef; this was a man of many talents, a true renaissance man. Besides being a gourmet chef, Frank also sings and plays multiple instruments in two different bands. In fact, the very next night he was set to perform with a band called “Thievery Corporation” as the headliner at a concert in San Diego.

The appetizers that Frank prepared on Friday evening were unique and outstanding and the entrée was even more fantastic. But after consuming an awesome meal, we were further entertained as Frank played guitar and sang some of the hits songs off of one of his albums. It has been several years since I touched my guitar, but towards the end of the evening several of us broke out our own guitars and played along with Frank, singing and laughing and having the best time. There is something about really good food and really good music that just guarantees a great time for all.

The next morning as I thought about the fun we had the night before, I realized that Frank’s job is basically all about serving others and bringing joy into their lives. That seems like an awesome job because if I remember correctly, the Bible stresses over and over again how we are supposed to “serve others”. So if you can serve others and get paid for it…how great would that be! But then again, I don’t think Frank is doing it for the money, I think he is doing it because he enjoys it just as much as his audience does.

So how awesome would it be to have a job you love, that also brings joy into people’s lives. But wait…why can’t every job be like that? Does it really matter what your job is? I sell light bulbs for a living but does that mean that I can’t bring a little smile and a little joy to my work each day. It dawned on me that no matter what we do for a living, if we look for ways to bring a little joy to those we work with and to those we work for, the world would be a better place. In fact, I think I’ll stop on the way to work and buy a few “gourmet donuts” for my friends at the office and maybe I’ll even break out into a song at lunch time. Okay maybe that’s not gonna happen, but I could “turn up the music” in my life by remembering to serve a song of love to everyone I meet.  

Frank on Drums with Thievery Corporation

Frank Orrall in New York City - 2008

Music is love in search of a word.
~ Sidney Lanier