Yeah, let's just ship them all back

During a recent Republican debate, the issue of illegal immigration was thoroughly vetted by the candidates. There seemed to be general agreement on the issue of securing the border (I assume that when they refer to "the border" that generally means the US/ Mexico border since that is the major problem.) There was not agreement regarding what to do about the estimated 11 million illegal immigrants that are currently in the US.

I hear all the time that we need "comprehensive immigration reform" and I must honestly admit that I don't really know what they mean by that. I assume it means that there are many different things that must be solved...it needs to be "fair and balanced." I don't know how difficult it is to gain entrance into the United States for purposes of staying here for extended periods of time or on a permanent basis. Apparently, we are not letting enough people in legally or we make it too difficult to do so or the process is there but it just takes too long. I understand that there are many people that subscribe to the idea of fully open borders that would legally allow virtually all-comers. I'm not sure that makes good sense. I believe that a country's border should have a high degree of integrity. It should be respected and enforced...vigorously.

Newt Gingrich caught and continues to catch a great deal of heat for his answer to the question about what to do with all those illegals that are living in the US. I am not quoting what he said but my take on it was this...set up some community "citizen boards" and have them evaluate the "illegals" living in their communities and make a determination if some number of them should be allowed to stay "legally" (but not gain citizenship) based on some criteria including how long they have lived here, the degree to which they are an active, contributing part of the community, etc. Current US law (I believe) says that children born in the US to illegal immigrants are afforded citizenship status. Many of those children have been here long enough that they have subsequently had children of their own. The reality is that there are some number of people in the US who came here illegally that have been here a long time and now have extended families. What do we do with them?

The other candidates pounced on his answer. Bachmann stated that Newt wanted to give amnesty to 11 million illegals. That's not what Newt said. Romney said that Newt's position would maintain the "magnet" that attracts new people across the border...they would believe that they would one day gain citizenship. That's not what Newt said either. But both Bachmann and Romney are pushing hard to be recognized as the most conservative candidate...Bachmann because she was part of the original Tea Party movement and Romney because there is so much skepticism about his conservative credentials. So I wasn't surprised that they disagreed with Newt's position.

I applaud Gingrich for taking a sensible but unpopular position because, realistically, we are not going to deport 11 million people. No way. Take the entire populations of Idaho, Hawaii, Maine, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Montana, Delaware, South Dakota, Alaska, North Dakota, Vermont, and Wyoming combined; round them up, and ship them out of the country. That's what deporting 11 or so million people would involve. Does anyone really think that (a) we would actually do that and (b) it would even be feasible to do that even if we wanted to?

Here's my take on the issue (like anyone really cares what I think about this anyway.)

1. We currently have an estimated 500,000 illegals coming into the US each year. This must stop as soon as we can make that happen. The flow of illegals into this country must be shut off or we will NEVER solve the illegal immigration problem...not to mention the national security problem it causes with the ongoing terrorist threat a leaky border provides. They say that when they repaint the Eiffel Tower, it takes so long to complete the job that, by the time they get to the top, it is time to start repainting the bottom again...the cycle never ends (not sure this is true...sounds good though.) If we don't stop the flow of illegals, by the time we figure out  what to do with the ones that are currently here and deal with it, there will be another 11 million here.

2. Illegal immigrants that have other crimes they have committed (in addition to that little one called illegally entering the US) should be immediately deported.

3. I like Gingrich's idea of establishment of community boards. Some uniform, minimum criteria should be agreed upon (both objective and subjective) that these boards would use to identify candidates that would be given "legal" status (but not automatic citizenship) and be allowed to stay in the US. I say that these candidates would have to admit that they illegally crossed the border and have been living here illegally. A fine should be imposed and some reasonable payment plan should be provided for those that could not pay the full amount up front. These candidates would be people with children born in the US, are employed, have been contributors in their communities and have been living here at least 20 years as of the time the program is established.

4. Younger people that do not qualify above could be considered for legal status if they agree to serve in the US military (if they otherwise meet all other qualifications), or agree to serve for at least three years in one of the volunteer service organizations. (Peace Corp, AmeriCorps, etc.) These people would also be required to pay a fine. Again, citizenship would not be automatically granted.

5. Any illegal immigrants that are participating in or have already earned advanced degrees in disciplines that are strategically important to the US could be offered a process to earn legal status and possibly citizenship. The fine for coming here illegally would have to be paid.

6. Then what do we do with the remaining illegal immigrants? I would guess that the number of people I have identified above that would either be immediately deported or be given legal status is a relatively small number of the total 11 million people in the US illegally. Are we going to deport 5 million people? 1 million people? In 2009, 389 thousand people were deported. That is 3 times the annual number that were deported in the pre- 9/11 years. Even at that rate it would take 12 years to deport 5 million people.

People that crossed the border and stay in the US have committed a crime. How does that crime compare in seriousness to other crimes? I think each of us has a different  opinion on that. Some of us look at the violation of our sovereign border as a horrible act...essentially an invasion of our land. Others look at it and see people that are primarily coming here because their prior circumstance held no hope or opportunity and the quest for survival and prosperity overwhelmed their sense of obedience to the law.

I wonder how we would react if most of the illegal immigrants that crossed our border were English speaking, predominantly white people from Canada? Would we be as eager to round them all up and ship them back? That's not for me to say. We are a country that tries to respect the rule of law. But this is also a very compassionate country that acknowledges its own immigrant roots. These ideals are slamming into each other in a tremendous way with the immigration issue. Can't we find a way to respect these ideals and still solve the problem? I think so.

Would love to get your opinions on this!

I don't mean to be indelicate but...

Best bathrooms on the interstate? I think not.

I took a short road trip this afternoon to drive my wife to her sister's. Actually her sister and her husband drove as well and we sorta met in the middle. I-77 Exit 77...Waffle House rendezvous and prisoner swap.

Carol and I arrived a little before her sister so we went in, sat down and ordered coffee. Sister/brother-in-law arrived and we chatted a little, finished our coffee and decided to use "the facilities" before each of us got back on the road.

OK, what do you call it? Restroom? You know, there are many names used to describe that place where we all go to....well....to go. You may refer to it as....bathroom, toilet, little girl's/boy's room, water closet, head, john, privy, powder room (in Waffle House?...yeah right), latrine, dunny, loo, lavatory, washroom.... There are, of course, other names as well but let's keep it to the less coarse names for now. By the way, Sir Thomas Crapper (1836-1910) did NOT invent the toilet, although he was awarded three patents that were associated with improvements to the flushing water closet. Trying to keep this educational.

My visit to the special place was not a pleasant one. First, the room was disgustingly unclean...even for a public restroom. Fortunate for me I am a guy so the degree of "facility utilization and interface" was significantly less involved than if I had been a female (thank the Lord.) Let me just say that in my travels to various places around the world the single greatest difference I experienced relative to the comforts of the US are the "facilities." Notice I didn't say "toilet" because that would imply that there was one. In some countries this just isn't the case. I don't mean to be crude but some places in South America and China where I traveled were so disgusting and crude I'm not even going to describe it. Let's just say that I will never wear nice shoes (or pants with cuffs falling below my ankle bone) to those countries ever again. So, my criticism of the WaHo bathroom is a relative thing.

don't touch...ever

It actually was a bit on the humorous side. Before I get to the humor part... there was a device on the floor that was made of a wood handle and a rubber apparatus on the end...you know what I'm talking about. Does anyone think that even if I found myself in a situation where I might need to use that "tool" for some emergency drainage relief that I would? I mean, I love Waffle House and all but I am not reaching my hand down and grasping that thing. Just looking at it probably will give you typhoid or cholera or something. In the event of a "situation"...I'm outta there...just being honest here. Did you know that even at 5 foot 6, and in my mid-fifties, I can still get my left foot up high enough, maintain balance like a Russian gymnast, and hit the flush handle? Does anyone actually use their hand to do that? The thought of that just made a little vomit rise up in my throat. So, you can bet the "tool" will never be touched by these human hands. I don't even like touching the one we have at home for goodness sakes.

Bradley Model 2875-28 ..also available in white

Oh, the funny part. After washing my hands in scalding hot water with that fragrant industrial-strength, pink, liquid soap, I turned to grab a paper towel. Rats! WaHo has gone paperless! Then I saw the Bradley, gleaming chrome, 150mph blow dryer on the wall. From personal experience, I would have more luck hitting red 27 on the roulette wheel than finding a dryer that is actually functional. But today is my lucky day. I hit the button with my right elbow and it roars to life. I'm in business. What I failed to notice, however, was that the standard kitchen height waste basket was directly under the dryer...directly under the stream of jet engine thrust air. As air reached bottom of said trash receptacle, contents of trash receptacle moved...toilet paper, the brown cardboard "thingies" that you finally get down to when the TP rolls are all gone (much like the tootsie roll in the middle of the tootsie roll pop but only much different) Sorry...

tornadic action... it's no different

The contents took to flight when lifted high on the jet stream. Fortunately, the flying objects were relatively harmless and dry and "clean" so, despite my inability to dodge the debris, I came away unscathed.

You know life is a series of surprises...one after another. But there are some things we experience in life that shouldn't really surprise us. The restroom (that's hilarious...really? a place of rest?) of your neighborhood Waffle House should not be a surprise to me anymore. But occasionally it still is.

I'm still trying to get my wife to tell me what she means by "hovering" ...but I guess that will have to wait until a later blog.

Is Tim Tebow for real?

After I graduated from high school, the next stop on my education path was in Athens, Georgia. Despite my stay there being relatively short-lived, the red and black became a permanent love of mine. So, being a Bulldawg, it was not in vogue to be a Tim Tebow fan while he was a Florida Gator. But, I will confess, I was silently cheering for him (except during the GA/FL game.)

Why would I cheer for him? Because Tim Tebow is the real deal. He obviously is an extremely talented athlete. He is a fierce competitor. He loves playing football. But he has been attacked from almost all sides. I can't remember any other standout athlete that has been mocked and ridiculed like Tim Tebow. His critics (that may not even be a strong enough description) cheer any and all failures he experiences. They want him to fail...not just fail, fail miserably. Just what has Tim Tebow done to deserve the vitriol?

Tebow is a devout Christian. He makes no apologies for his faith or the way he lives his life. He wore bible verses on his eye black. He gave praise to God whenever he was interviewed. He bent down on one knee in prayer when he scored, presumably giving thanks to God. He confidently stated that he and his teammates would be the hardest working college football team. Braggart? I don't think so.

We have heard the story of his mother refusing the doctor's suggestion that she abort her high-risk pregnancy (when pregnant with Tim.) We watched the commercial during a recent Super Bowl that shared that story and celebrated life. Prior to the airing of the commercial, the pro-choice folks went nuts over the idea that the commercial would be allowed on TV. Once it finally did air, I never heard another word about it because who could criticize the message of the commercial?

When Tebow entered the draft many said that he was not NFL material... he couldn't learn to take snaps from under center, his throwing motion was a mess and he just didn't have the juice to be a pro quarterback. Will he be a successful pro quarterback? I don't know. But I hope so because the NFL needs people like Tim Tebow.

So why all the criticism; hatred even towards Tebow? I think it is because Tim Tebow makes us uncomfortable. He seems too good to be true...or maybe just "too good." He is too nice, too polite, too devout, too humble, too demonstrative in his faith, too squeaky clean and that makes us uncomfortable. What does that say about him? More importantly, what does that say about us?

I have no illusions about Tim Tebow being perfect. I am certain that he would tell you that he is far from perfect. He would say that he is a sinner, saved by the grace of a merciful God. Many people are just waiting for him to do something that defies his profession of his faith. They are just waiting for any misstep. Unfortunately, that day will probably come and they will shout "Aha...see there, Tim Tebow is just like the rest of us...he's not so perfect now is he?" And they will feel better about themselves.

I will continue to cheer and admire Tim Tebow. Not because he is a great athlete but rather because he is trying to live his life as a follower of Christ and use every opportunity to share with others not who he is, but whose he is. That makes him a winner in my book.

Read what Jill Kelly (wife of former Buffalo Bills QB Jim Kelly) has to say about Tim Tebow

Do you (a) attend church or (b) participate in worship?

Did you go to church Sunday? If the answer is "Yes" did you get anything out of the service? Did you enjoy the music? If I am being honest I will admit that sometimes the music is better than at other times. Did you notice that they moved the Offertory back to being after the sermon and for whatever reason we didn't sing the Doxology? That's strange because we always sing the Doxology...we've been singing Old 100th since they laid the cornerstone in the building. The other thing I noticed is that some of the ushers were dressed like they were heading out to the golf course right after the service...golf shirts under jackets (no ties of course) sure seemed a bit too casual but that's just my opinion. Oh, and what was going on with the pipe organ on the (I think) third song? Sounded like they cranked up the volume way too loud. I did thoroughly enjoy the drama that the students did. That gal who is the daughter of our Chairman of the Deacons is quite the talent...she didn't mess up any of her lines (some of the other kids had a few problems and that one guy said the girl's part by mistake) I think the drama was from one of the Old Testament stories..I can't really remember but I do remember that the costumes that the ladies' class made were perfect. They always do such a good job. I'll admit, I could have done without that solo. That song just didn't seem appropriate for church although the words were very powerful. But why did they feel the need to have those two guitars and the drums playing on her song? I'm just not sure how I feel about that.

What was up with the bulletin? Has it always been that small? Maybe the church is trying to save some money on paper. I was a little upset that, due to the repair work they were doing to the parking lot, I ended up having to park in the adjacent parking lot that belongs to that insurance company. I would have thought that they would have had a shuttle or something available so that we would not have had to walk that far. By the time I got back to my car after the service, it had to have been ten after twelve. Forget even trying to go that late to the cafeteria by the mall. The wait would have been way too long. Speaking of repairs, the good news is they finally seemed to get the temperature right in the sanctuary. I know the weather has been a little crazy lately but it was uncomfortable in there the last two Sundays. I don't understand why they can't keep the temperature where I like it.

I saw in the newsletter that the preacher's sermon next week is out of the book of Leviticus. I wish he would just stick to sermons out of the New Testament...I really prefer the gospels and most of Paul's letters. He mentioned something about inviting the Holy Spirit into our service or Holy Spirit power  (or something like that) ...I'll admit that sort of talk makes me a little uncomfortable. I was watching a service on TV the other day and folks were proclaiming the Holy Spirit and were jumping around with their hands up in the air. My goodness, I just can't believe that people think that God wants us to behave that way. You would think they were at a football game cheering their team or something.

Well, I am pretty excited about going to church next week. I bought a new outfit and I know (not meaning to brag or anything) that it will be noticed. I have always thought that we should look our best and this outfit does the job. My luck someone else bought the same outfit...that would be a little embarrassing.

Anyway...I'll see you at church next Sunday! Praise the Lord.

My piano makes me sad

Technically, I guess it is Jessica's piano. After all, she is the only one in the family (other than her husband Matt) who can actually play it. But she is now halfway around the world so...it sits in silence.

When JR first started playing piano we purchased a modestly priced "starter' piano....I think it was a Baldwin. Because our house, at the time, was on the smallish side, we really didn't have a good place to put it so it ended up in the dining room...not too bad...we could simultaneously eat and listen to Pachelbel's Canon in D. As the years went by and her playing improved, her teacher told us that we needed to invest in a better piano...one that was larger, had larger hammers that would help strengthen her hands and fingers. He recommended a Yamaha U1 piano. Now, this was a serious piano with a price to match. No matter...if we were going to invest in Jessica's piano instruction, something she was excelling in, it was very worthwhile to provide a worthy instrument. Eventually, we enlarged the house and the piano was able to find a good spot in the living room.

The house used to be filled with the sound of the various pieces of music that she was working on for her upcoming recitals. I think the sound of music in a home is just about one of the best things you can hear.

But now it is sitting in the house where we currently live and, interestingly enough...it is in what is supposed to be the dining room. But we use that room as the "music room" ...filled with guitars, amplifiers and that ebony black piano.

There is something sad about a beautiful musical instrument that doesn't have the opportunity to make music. It's not that the piano is not functional....it is in perfect condition save an occasional layer of dust. It just needs someone to play it. All by itself it is just a big chunk of wood, metal and strings. But in the hands of someone that knows how, it can produce a most beautiful sound that can bring joy to your heart or tears to your eyes. As a guitar player, I have always been envious of the piano...my guitar has only 6 strings so it can only produce a certain amount of musical fullness. That beautiful Yamaha has 88 keys with its corresponding strings. A magnificent instrument...but no one to play it.

I think some folks are like that piano. They are full of potential but, for whatever reason, don't make music (metaphorically speaking, of course.) I see it way too often in young people who somehow have become convinced that they "can't" or "never will" ________ (fill in the blank.) They need someone or something to help them "make music." Maybe it is somebody to encourage them...to tell them they can accomplish anything they set the heart and mind to. Maybe it is a teacher or mentor to inspire them. Maybe it is just a chance to show what they can do.

I know some of my sadness is that I just miss my daughter. The piano is a reminder that she is a long way away. But that piano is also a reminder that God has put a gift in all of us...maybe not music, but some special gift that He wants us to use to tell others about Him and to bring Him glory. It would be sad to just let that gift stay silent. What is the piano in your life?

Can't we wait until Thanksgiving is over?

I am writing this on November 13th....nothing particularly special about the date. Halloween was 13 days ago but I wouldn't necessarily call Halloween a major milestone on the calendar. Let's see, Veterans Day was this past Friday. Originally named Armistice Day, this holiday was in honor of the soldiers that fought in World War I. That was supposed to be the "war to end all wars." That turned out to not be correct. World War II and the Korean War followed and, in 1954, the holiday was renamed Veterans Day to honor American veterans of all wars. This year was especially unique in that the date was 11/11/11.

The retailers are already reminding us of how many shopping days are left until Christmas. By my count Christmas is 42 days away. I'm not sure how many "shopping days" that translates to...I guess in the world of 24/7 stores and online ordering it means...42.

Let me just say up front..I love Christmas. I love most everything about it. As a Christian, I love the significance of celebrating the birth of my Lord and Savior. I even love the secular Christmas traditions...the inflatable Santa Claus on the front lawn, the Christmas movies, and the Christmas carols of all persuasions. Let me just take a slight detour, though, with regards to Christmas music...just because you are a recording artist doesn't mean that you should record a Christmas album. I mean do we really want to hear David Hasselhoff or Kenny Chesney or Gorilla Zoe singing Christmas songs? (then again I probably wouldn't limit my comment to just Christmas music) But I digress...

Could I ask just one favor though? On November 24th we have another holiday on the calendar. You may be familiar with it. It's called Thanksgiving. And Thanksgiving is only 11 days away...not shopping days...just plain old days.

Can we please enjoy Thanksgiving before we have to be bombarded with all the Christmas music, decorations, bad sweaters, antlers attached to your SUV, commercials, shopping days countdown clocks, Christmas plates, antlers attached to your dog, and all the other stuff that has come to represent Christmas?

I know for the "women folk" (and I mean that term with no disrespect), Thanksgiving can be a little stressful since the women in our lives do most of the Thanksgiving cooking. But, think of the stress level comparison to Christmas. There are no cards to mail out (although Thanksgiving cards are a great idea), gifts to purchase, major decorating to do, toys to assemble, batteries to purchase or little white lies to tell children. For Thanksgiving we can just get together as family (sometimes with friends included) and share a meal together while expressing our thanks for the people in our lives, the wonderful country in which we live and the blessings that God has bestowed on us...and we eat. And eat. Did I mention that I love to eat? The best food I ever eat is on Thanksgiving Day.

Ruth Williams (who I miss dearly) taught her daughters how to properly fix a Thanksgiving meal. Succulent turkey, ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, dressing, green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole, squash casserole, broccoli casserole, deviled eggs, vegetable plate....and on and on and on. When Carol and I were first married I weighed 150 lbs. I now eat that much on Thanksgiving Day. Oh, and you know what is on TV on Thanksgiving Day? Oh sure I know the Twilight movie saga is on but, as much as I would love to, I can't watch that because football is on! And it always seems like the Godfather movies are on Thanksgiving Day. Haven't figured that one out though. But I end up watching them.

Some people enjoy getting the old folks and the younger ones together and having a football game in the backyard. Laughing, hugging...just loving being in each other's company. And remembering....yes with some sadness... the ones that aren't with us this year. But we give thanks again for those that we loved and who made such a difference in our lives. Thanksgiving. Maybe my favorite holiday. Can we agree to savor it?...after all...it lasts only a day. Then we can move on to the frenetic Black Friday shopping and all the other things we do next.

I know that Christmas is coming.

But can't we wait until Thanksgiving is over?

The Bridge

The Bridge Ministry Augusta GA

We are all familiar with bridges....there's the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. During the 2008 Presidential primaries, we heard about Alaska's "Bridge to nowhere." If you were a music listener in the 1960's, Simon & Garfunkle's song "Bridge over troubled water" was a favorite. Bridges go over rushing rivers and dry creek beds. Bridges span railroad tracks and deep chasms. Bridges cross highways and little babbling streams. There is a bridge in the Florida Keys that is 7 miles long...appropriately named 7 Mile Bridge. The 1831 London Bridge now sits over a canal in Lake Havasu, Arizona.

If you are from Augusta, Georgia you probably remember the building of the John C. Calhoun Expressway. During its construction it temporarily ended at 15th Street at what was to become a bridge spanning that road, the Augusta Canal and eventually merging into Greene Street. Clyde Wells, former editorial cartoonist for the Augusta Chronicle, penned a drawing of the not-yet-completed bridge showing a net where the road ended. The cartoon was titled "The Net Effect." It was one of his most popular cartoons and eventually the title of a book containing a collection of his drawings.

The bridge was eventually completed and all Augustans are familiar with the Calhoun Expressway bridge. What many may not be familiar with is what happens under that bridge every Saturday afternoon. You see Saturday is a special day under "The Bridge." For crowds ranging from 200-600, The Bridge is home to one of the most dynamic congregations of any "church" in Augusta. Many, if not most, of the attendees at The Bridge are homeless. If not homeless, they are some of the least financially fortunate in our city. But they come and worship in a church that has no walls, has dirt for a floor and an overpass for a ceiling. But God is there every Saturday to be worshiped and to minister to all who come. Volunteers from a dozen churches or more come to serve their brothers and sisters by providing a meal, clothing, a listening ear, words of hope and encouragement, prayer and, most of all, the face of Christ.

Roger Gardner along with other faithful members of New Hope Worship Center started this ministry in 2007 holding services every other Saturday. In June of 2011, under the leadership of Byron Brown, First Baptist Church of Augusta joined with New Hope and assumed responsibility for the alternate Saturdays.

God is at work under that bridge. God's people...black and white, young and old, rich and poor coming together making those distinctions totally unimportant. The Body of Christ lifting up praises to our God.

Maybe you need to experience the presence of Christ in a whole new way. Come to The Bridge. Make a difference in someone else's life.

Matthew 25:37-40 says:

   ³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

   ⁴⁰ “The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’

Amen

link to video: June 25, 2011 worship service

Will we learn anything from Penn State?

You would think that there would be universal agreement that Penn State's trustees finally have done the right thing (albeit so long after the damage has unfortunately been done) in the recent firings that included famed football coach Joe Paterno. But that isn't the case. Penn State student rioting and commentary in the blogosphere show that some think that Penn State acted unfairly in the Paterno matter. He deserved better, they say. Wow...we all certainly share different sets of priorities. Football coaches are elevated to pretty lofty heights. Maybe, in our culture, this is part of the problem.

Can we agree though that all institutions will learn something in all this? Can we agree that we, as individuals, will learn something from this tragedy? The sexual abuse of children is a scar on the land. I know that the very mention of it makes us cringe and feel very uncomfortable. We don't like to talk about it because there is something so sick about it. BUT WE MUST TALK ABOUT IT! It is real...it happens...and it happens far too often.

If you run an organization, do you have policies to deal with this? First off, do you do everything reasonably possible to prevent it? Do you scrutinize who gets to work with children? Do you have guidelines and procedures preventing a solitary adult from being alone with a child or children? Do you have windows in all doors of rooms that contain children? Do you train your workers and volunteers on what is appropriate and what is not activity-wise?

What are people supposed to do if they become aware of abuse? What are they supposed to do if a child tells them that something has happened? Are you not sure? Well, get busy and talk to some experts that can help you craft some policies and procedures...then put them into practice. People often become paralyzed in these situations out of fear that an adult may be wrongly accused. It isn't your job to decide if allegations are true or not. It is your job to report to the proper authorities when you are made aware of or if you witness abuse. The authorities know how to handle these situations. And if you are going to error, error on the side of protecting the child. If someone was bleeding profusely or having a heart attack would you first call your boss or 911? The analogy applies.

On a practical level I would suggest parents of children pay attention to anyone that interacts directly with your child...coaches, counselors, teachers, ministers, babysitters, day care workers. Ask your children open ended questions about their day. "Did anything interesting happen today?" "How do you like Mr. Smith?" "Does Miss Susie treat you well?" "What do you not like about playing on the baseball team?" Don't expect that your child would just volunteer information if they have been abused. Often times, the abuser has made threats to harm family members if the child ever speaks about it. Your child, in his or her silence, is trying to protect you. Be as brave as your child in protecting him or her.

All of us know adults that were mistreated as children. They still carry the scars. If they have shared their story with you ask them what could have been done to prevent it or kept it from happening again. Many will tell you that, if a caring adult had been paying attention or believed them, the situation could have been less worse.

For the benefit of all the children out there, let's please learn something from this before this story is replaced by the next big news story that captures our attention.

I feel sick to my stomach

I can hardly watch or read the news lately without getting that nauseous feeling in my stomach. It seems every week there is something reported that causes us to recoil and feel shocked (although being "shocked" anymore is becoming a dying art)

The news out of Penn State University is so incredible that I am just having difficulty even fathoming it. The fact that adults were aware of another adult abusing children and seemingly doing NOTHING about it makes me want to scream. I don't need to repeat the details because, unless you have been living under a rock, you already know that a former assistant football coach was seen years ago by a graduate assistant performing a despicable act upon a young boy. That graduate assistant reported it to head football coach Joe Paterno. From there the outrage of doing the wrong thing ensued. Some have stated that Paterno did all he was "legally required" to do. How could a serious person even suggest that?

I know that in the realm of God, sin is sin. But sexually abusing a helpless, innocent child?

Many years ago, I found myself in a situation where I was made aware of a teenager who claimed that she was being physically abused by a parent. My wife and I tried our best to determine if the teenager was being honest. The girl showed my wife bruises on her back and side that didn't look like the kind of bruises that a teen could self-inflict or might normally get playing sports, etc. I had a conversation with a high ranking law enforcement officer about it and asked what I should do. He stated that if his office were called in, it would be handled like a law enforcement situation which, he stated, might be inappropriate. The better option he suggested was to contact the Division of Family and Children Services since they typically got involved in these kinds of matters.

I made the call and reported what I believed to be the situation. But, I was not an actual eyewitness. I was taking a teenager's word. What if she was lying? Weren't my actions potentially risking the reputation of an innocent parent? This was one of the hardest decisions of my life. But I couldn't just assume it was not true. I prayed about it, cried about it... but made the phone call. If I had it to do over again, I would still make that phone call. There was fallout from all this...the family involved will never have anything to do with us. I did receive a phone call from the other estranged parent thanking me and eluding to the fact that there was a problem that was very complex.

I have every respect for parents' right to raise their child in a manner they see fit. This does not include physical  or sexual abuse. No child should have to endure that. Parents are responsible for the well being of their children. People in authority or in positions of influence over children cannot be allowed to abuse those positions.

I have always admired Joe Paterno as a football coach and mentor. But, I'm sorry...he cannot justify his inaction in this matter.

Lacking in something to pray about today? Please include Joe Paterno in your prayers. And pray for all the people that have been affected by this scandal. Unfortunately, the damage to those boys has been done. I pray especially that healing will take place for them.

Smokin' Joe

I heard on the news that Joe Frazier, the former heavyweight boxing champion, has been diagnosed with liver cancer and is under hospice care. I find myself very saddened by this news. You see, I was a big Joe Frazier fan during most of his boxing career. That being the case, I wasn't really much of  Muhammad Ali fan during that same period. I mean, you can't be a Red Sox fan and be a Yankees fan...the two are just not compatible. Same with Frazier and Ali...you had to pick a side.

Joe Frazier was born in 1944 in Beaufort, SC. Technically, he was born in Laurel Bay, SC, which is very near the city of Beaufort. Why bother to mention the distinction? Because in the mid-60's while my stepfather served as a drill instructor at the Marine Corp Recruit Depot at Parris Island, SC, I lived in Laurel Bay.

Where we lived was the military housing for Marines stationed at Parris Island or the Marine Corp Air Station. While the gated military housing complex where we lived was made up of neat, modest homes with well manicured lawns, the Laurel Bay immediately outside the gate was some of the poorest area I had ever seen in all of my 12 short years of life... run down shacks, tenant farms, dirt roads, broken down old cars, and dirty-faced kids with no shoes. My mother told me that the Piggly-Wiggly right outside the gate had to stop selling the canned dog food that was made from horse meat because some of the poor folks were buying it to feed their families. I imagine that the Laurel Bay where Joe Frazier grew up was quite different from the military housing area where I did. Up to that point I had spent most of my life growing up in an idyllic New England town...experiencing the South of the 1960's was quite a culture shock for this kid.

Life as a military brat living in Laurel Bay was quite good. Gray buses used to run on a routine schedule between our housing area and the Marine Corp Air Station not too far away. On that base we could utilize all the amenities that were available...the movie theater and bowling alley, the ball fields, swimming pools and gymnasiums. Everything was either free or cost so little it was something we could do all the time.

It seemed like every gym on base had a boxing ring somewhere in the building. Marines apparently love to knock each other around with boxing gloves. I can vividly remember playing basketball with my friends one day and hearing a big commotion as a bunch of soldiers and civilians came into the gym. We didn't really know what was going on but finally I heard someone shout, "hey, that's Joe Frazier!"

This was the summer of 1967 and, by 1967, Joe Frazier had already won an Olympic gold medal and had won 16 professional fights, 13 by way of knockout. To be honest, though, I wasn't much of a professional boxing fan at that time. But that all changed that day I got to see Joe Frazier in that gymnasium in Beaufort, South Carolina. He had everybody mesmerized by his physical presence, his humble demeanor and that ever present smile.  The fact that he had come back to his hometown and was willing to spend some time with some Marines and even some puny junior high kids made an enormous impression on me.

If you are a boxing fan, you know the story of Joe Frazier and Muhammad Ali. Some of the best heavyweight fights ever were between these two champions. It always angered me, though, the way that Ali taunted Frazier...called him some of the cruelest of names...tried to humiliate him. Here was the Joe Frazier that personally appealed for Ali to be reinstated after he had been stripped of his title when he refused induction into the military...Frazier even put up the money for him to re-acquire his boxing license...and this is how Ali showed his appreciation? Frazier has said that he has forgiven Ali for this cruelty. I hope so. Lots of cruel words were spoken by both over the years.

I know that Joe Frazier is in a tough battle...liver cancer usually comes out the victor. But I hope that Smokin' Joe delivers one more good left hook in what may be his last fight. Laurel Bay is proud of you. And I am saying a prayer for you.

They say it's never too late...

My Dad died in the year 2000...myelodysplastic anemia. You could win at Scrabble with that word. Basically his bone marrow stopped making red blood cells. It finally got to the point where he was needing to have blood transfusions once a week. There is no real cure for this syndrome. Eventually, you just die.

For all intents and purposes though, he died in 1969. That was the year that he decided that he had to leave his hometown in order to avoid the legal repercussions of my mother's attempts to collect back child support. Fearing arrest, he just left... left me and my brother and sister, left his then wife and stepchildren, his mother and brother and... disappeared. I was 13 and was briefly living back in my hometown while my stepfather was serving in Vietnam.

In 1972 we moved to Georgia and I graduated from high school, left for college and later went to work for the company I was with for over 32 years. After many years of working, my job eventually required me to travel all over the country. At every hotel room I occupied, I would pull out the telephone book and look up my last name wondering if I would find a listing that contained my Dad's first name. I never found it. I wondered where he was...wondered if he was even still alive.

In 1987, I received word from the lady that owned the nursing home where my Dad's mother was living that my Dad's whereabouts might be known. I called my uncle (my Dad's brother) and asked him if he knew where my Dad was. He clearly didn't want to talk to me about this...he was very evasive. His wife came on the phone and I pressed her for an answer. She finally admitted that they knew where he was. She went on to say that he was still "hiding" from my mother out of fear of being arrested. I told her that my mother was dying in a hospital in Florida...she had stopped pursuing him 17 years earlier. I told my aunt that I wanted to call him. She said that she would have him call me. When? Tomorrow night.

The next day at work I could not concentrate on anything. All I could think about was that I was going to speak to my Dad after nearly 20 years of not knowing if he was even alive. When I got home from work I was so nervous that I couldn't even eat supper. I was too eager to hear the phone ring. He never called.

I called my aunt back and asked what was going on. He didn't call? No. I told her that she obviously had his phone number...why not just give it to me? She refused. She promised she would have him call me. So I waited, and waited.

Then the phone rang. I almost jumped out of my skin. I answered the phone and the voice on the other end said "Michael?" I said, yes, it's me. And then we talked. It was a bit strange...and a bit awkward. I was now 31 years old with a wife and child. I hadn't spoken to him since I was going through puberty. Our conversation wasn't a typical father/son conversation...but it was a start.

The conversations continued and they became more natural feeling. Finally, I scheduled a trip to New England so that I could "meet him" face-to-face. The nervousness I had prior to that first phone call came rushing back as I waited in the hotel lobby bar for him to arrive. He finally came in and we hugged and kissed and both cried a little. I was finally reunited with my Dad. It didn't matter to me that he had failed to provide the child support he should have, that he had run off to who-knows-where. He was here and I could embrace him. I knew how the father of the prodigal son felt. My brother and sister also reconnected with Dad and had their own reunions with him. I had a few more opportunities over the next 12 years or so to see him including one time that included my wife and two children. I am so glad they got to meet him in person.

Maybe you have been estranged from a loved one for some reason. Maybe the circumstances are quite different from mine. Doesn't matter. Maybe a lot of time has passed... maybe there has been a lot of water that has flowed under the bridge. Doesn't matter.

11 years ago, I lost my Dad for the second time. But I am so thankful for those 13 years that I was able to be son and he was able to be Dad again.

It's never too late. Until it is too late. Do it...now. Pick up the phone...get in the car. Make the first move.

I love you Dad...and I miss you still.