mostlyfrommemory

Loss of a Coworker

Getting to know people who are not like me has always been one of my favorite aspects of working with the public and attending public school.

Coworkers are people that you may not have anything in common with the except that you both work at the same place. So you end up building a special relationship with someone that you ordinarily would not have made friends with. Getting to know people who are not like me has always been one of my favorite aspects of working with the public and attending public school.

Losing a coworker is a strange feeling. I remember Dad losing a coworker to cancer when I was just a lad. I think his name was Ed White. Dad had visited him a few times while he was in the hospital. I remember how he would tell Mom how the visits went. I don’t have anyone to verify this-they are all dead-but I am fairly certain that Ed White paid the hospital bill when my sister was born. Mom and Dad went to the funeral without us kids. We didn’t know all of the details but we could tell by Dad’s countenance that it was not a time to be rowdy at the house.

“Paul passed away this morning.”

I got this text a couple of weeks ago from my boss at my former State job. I only saw him once or twice a month for the years that I worked there. But I talked to him on the phone quite often. He was one of our field officers and spent most of his time covering a large part of east Alabama. It was always a welcome diversion whenever one of these officers dropped into to see the people like me who hardly left the office. Those officers all had the best stories.

He carried a cane. He would walk by and smack that cane on my desktop and say things like:

“You’re fired.”

“You’re working too hard, take a break.”

He was good at saying nice things in an abrasive tone of voice. He was also a very giving person. My first week or so at work he made me a wooden stand with my name. I still have it in my new office. It means a little more to me now. One day he brought me a bunch of metal straws. At first I thought, what in the world am I going to do with these? But they have been in constant use since I brought them home to the kids. Recently I have gained a deeper appreciation for these straws since I have slipped into the habit of drinking milkshakes nearly everyday.

Paul had served in more than one branch of the military and was a veteran of Iraqi Freedom. This may be where he picked up the cane. After he retired from the military he landed the gig with the State and that’s where I met him. He retired in the last year or so because his health. He had been fighting cancer. God I hate cancer. Paul was indeed a character. He made me want to be a better gift giver.

The first coworker that I ever lost was named Chavelo. Although I think that was his nickname. His real name was Isabel. I had never heard a man named Isabel, but I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now. He was from El Salvador and he introduced me to papusas. He would share them for breakfast. We were working for a man up in our church who owned a commercial lawn care business. We all went to church together. I was the truck driver and chief weed-eater operater, Cecil-another Alabamian-and Chavelo drove the big mowers. Neither one of them spoke proper English. And now that I think of it, I don’t think they even tried to talk to each other, they just each talked to me.

Chavelo told me that he had worked on a dairy farm in El Salvador.

“Tha macheen dat meelk da cow. It bad por da cow chitty. We meelk by hand.” He made a squeezing motion. I’m not sure what I was supposed to do with this information, but it has brought me a lot of joy over the years.

As we drove from job to job, Cecil would point out houses that he had sanded the floors in. The two would interrupt each other to talk to me. It was so entertaining.

“You see that bank right there Brother Zane?” Cecil asked one day.

“Yes.” I said, not fully paying attention as I navigated the truck and trailer through the streets that had been designed for horses and carriages.

“Somebody robbed that bank with a banana!”

“What?” I asked incredulously, now fully paying attention.

“It was a chocolate covered banana.” Cecil replied. I’m not sure of the veracity of this story, but I know for certain that Cecil believed it. I really hope it is true because I want to believe it too.

That’s what it was like working with these two. They were both old enough to be my grandad. I did a lot of laughing back then. That’s what the best coworkers do, they make you laugh.

Chavelo was sick one week for a few days, and when he returned I noticed that his eyes were yellow. After a month I began to noticed that his upper belly was protruding. He was not an overweight man by any means and this protrusion turned out to be bloating from liver cancer. I noticed the same symptom in Paul a while back. Chavelo went down hill pretty quick. I went to see him a few times while he was on his deathbed to pray for him.

“It’s no good Brother Zane.” He burst into tears one day. I cried too.

When he died they asked me to speak at the funeral. That was the first time I had ever spoken at a funeral and also the first time that I had ever spoken with a translator. I said something along these lines.

Chavelo and I had a language barrier, but not a communication block. We couldn’t always understand each other’s words, but we understood each other’s thoughts. Love transcends language. Chavelo was always sharing and we were always laughing. That connection was worth more than words could explain.

I sometimes think of Chavelo when I get discouraged while trying to learn Spanish. Chavelo helped me understand that speaking English is not the only sign of intelligence.

Eventually I got a job with Parks & Recreation and left the mowing industry. I was sitting at my desk one day and I got a phone call on my personal phone. I didn’t recognize the number so I didn’t answer. It is one of the biggest regrets I have. Pastor Dillon was out of the country so that’s probably why they called me. When I finally checked the message I was gutted.

“Cecil has had an mowing accident and he didn’t make it. Please call us.” It was from one of Cecil’s family members.

When they described the hill that he had been mowing when his mower flipped over on him I knew exactly where they were talking about. It was steep and tall. I never liked mowing on it myself.

Two things changed in me after Cecil died. I still answer the phone even if I don’t recognize the number. This does mean that I talk to a lot of people in Kolkuta, India, but I don’t mind. I also don’t play around with zero-turn mowers and I don’t feel bad telling people, “Hey man, you need a roll-bar on that thing.”

When I got the text about Paul it brought back a lot of memories for me. God and Death are no respecters of persons. I don’t know if this has helped anyone, but it has helped me.

Compliments

Are you better at giving or receiving compliments?

I imagine that most people like to have nice things said about them. Especially the Words of Affirmation people. I never remember exactly what my love language is because I never finished reading that book. There wasn’t enough plot for me. However, I have always enjoyed complimenting people. Although my sister-in-law, sister, and even my wife sometimes tell me that I am not very good at it. They say things like, I never know if you are being nice or making fun of me.

Compliments are like bubble gum, its ok to chew on them for a while, just don’t swallow them.

For instance a generic compliment to one of them might sound something like this, “I like that dress.” That is boring, and easily forgotten. To give a good compliment you have to imagine that your 3rd grade teacher is grading you on your effort. “I like that dress” is at best average. It lacks creativity and inspiration. Now try something like, “That dress reminds me of some curtains I saw at a museum exhibit about Japanese textiles.” See how that is more memorable? Some thought went into that. But even my best efforts get responses like Zane, no woman wants to hear that her clothes look like curtains.

Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.
Proverbs 18:21

Maybe I am not very good at giving compliments but I really do try because I believe in the power of words. I believe that words can be a source of inspiration. I believe that words can set a person’s mind in the right direction. This is why I feel compelled to write. But maintaining a blog in the era of the reel to sometimes feels like a lost cause. I must admit that I occasionally wonder if my energy is being wasted. And it is difficult to find inspiration to write when you are questioning whether what you are doing matters.

And then I’ll meet a real live person who has read my blog and they will compliment me on my writing and it inspires me so much that I stay up until 2:45am writing run on sentences because I am drawing inspiration from the power of their words.

Let me back up a little bit. I know that people read my blog because the website tells me these kinds of things. But it uses numbers and I have always thought that numbers were so impersonal. So meeting a reader in person gives me a clearer context for the numbers.

Whenever someone approaches me to tell me that they read my blog I feel incredibly vulnerable. I usually write in isolation so to me it feels like I am merely putting thoughts into words as a mental exercise. Some of the essays that have reached the most people were really not intended for entertainment but were my way of grieving. Many of the things I have written are simply thoughts that will not leave me alone and I only get peace when I release them to the outside world. There is something cathartic about reaching into the infinite and grabbing hold of something and wrestling it into the finite so that others can view it.

I also feel that since no one saw me write it that no one knows that I wrote it. I take refuge in this assumed anonymity. Furthermore, because I feel like that what I write already exists in a perfect form in the infinite, I can only take a small amount of responsibility for making it finite. These personal psychological constructs give me a false sense that no one really reads anything I write.

Whenever you read someones work you get an insight into their mind. In a sense you become familiar with the deepest part of that person. As the reader you also enjoy a sense of real anonymity in relation to the author. This is why I always feel vulnerable when I meet with someone who is a fan of my work because I feel like they can read my mind, but I cannot read theirs. But I can see it in their eyes if they really have read. Maybe they cried with me. Maybe they have the same questions that I do. Maybe they too used to go swimming in the creek with the town drunk when they were kids.

It happened to me last night as I was walking out of the conference center here in Pigeon Forge, TN. They took me by surprise.

“Brother Wells I read your blog and I love your style of writing.”

Whenever something like this happens I just say “Thank you!” But I try to say it in italics because I really mean it and I am otherwise speechless. I always think of something nice to say or questions that I should have asked hours later.

Then they said, “I feel like I know you.” This may be one of the highest compliments I have received on my writing. Complimenting someone involves a going out of yourself in much the same way that writing does. Saying something has the power of putting your thoughts into words and transferring them into someone else’s mind. And you may never know how much your words may help someone.

The Art of Listening

Whether or not you are a musician, how good of a listener are you?

I have worked with a lot of musicians over the years. Most of them have been church musicians that learned to play by ear. This does not always mean that they cannot read sheet music, or lack a strong understanding of music theory. It usually simply means that they do not sight read traditional musical notation in real time. I only know a few people that can sight read sheet music. And they are fantastic musicians. The rest of us have to study traditional sheet music in order to play it.

There is no shame in being a musician who plays by ear. There are even a lot of advantages. For instance when someone has a good enough ear they can listen to a song once and be able to play it. This is also our greatest handicap; many times we need to have heard a song before we can play it. The danger comes when we think that we are good enough to stop listening.

Many master musicians have spent years practicing ear training. Remember when you were learning your multiplication tables or when you were first introduced to Algebra? You may have struggled to even understand the concepts and the thought of being able to do these complicated formulas in your head seemed out of reach. But after practice you can probably now do simple math and even Algebra mentally and it feels natural. This is also true for music. For most ordinary humans it takes practice to be able to identify intervals, find your vocal part, or pick out a melody or chord progression. But ear training immerses you into the language of music and after a while things start to make perfect sense.

“Listen!”

This is what my Dad would say from behind a book whenever one of us kids was making too much noise. We would quieten down and strain as if we could hear. Hear what? I never know exactly what we were listening for. Was he about to say something? If we tried hard enough could we hear the book he was reading playing out in his head? It took me a long time to realize that he was simply telling us to be quiet. I catch myself telling my kids the same thing these days.

Whether or not you are a musician, how good of a listener are you? Listening is so much more than a musical skill. At the very least listening is half of communication. Listening is a vital ingredient in healthy relationships. It becomes even more important when we understand that faith comes by hearing.

So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.
Romans 10:17

Whenever I take those learning style tests I always score high on a preference for auditory learning. I believe this is accurate. I really enjoy listening to audiobooks. I can recall things better when I give my undivided attention to auditory information. I think that is what makes someone a good listener, the ability to give their undivided attention.

How do you listen to music? Do you like it in the background or full blast?

When I was a teenager listening to music was a ritual. Digital music off of the internet via Napster and Limewire was in full swing, but I always felt the computer speakers sounded weak. I preferred to buy my music in compact disc form from the music section at Wal-Mart. I would bring the unopened CD home, carefully peel the cellophane and stickers off, and insert the disc into my three CD player stereo. I would listen to the whole album straight through in one sitting without any repeats or skips. Doing nothing but listening with my undivided attention. I still think this is the best way to listen to music.

I have a hard time listening to background music. I would rather listen to background silence than barely audible mosquito music. I am drawn to focus on the music and when it is too quiet any disruption seems amplified.

All of this has me thinking about things that inhibit being a good listener.

I tend to get distracted by noise. I have a hard time going to restaurants if the music is too loud, or if there are a bunch of TVs playing different programs. It is very difficult for me to have a conversation while there is music playing. The worst thing is when there are two songs playing at one time. I sometimes wonder if that makes me a bad listener. Perhaps it means I am susceptible to distractions. To some extent I do not have control over external noise.

I can control internal noise. Have you ever been listening to someone talk only to realize that you have no idea what they are talking about because you were thinking about something else? We call this spacing out, or zoning out. If used properly, the ability tune everything out and focus your attention on your thoughts is a valuable skill. But an inability to control your thoughts can also make you a poor listener. It becomes a matter of will. Will you listen to what this person is saying or will you let your mind wonder?

Your attitude is largely controlled by your will and is another internal factor that can an inhibit and an enhance listening. Imagine the worst political figure that you can. If you are like me, you will have a hard time listening to that person say anything. There is an internal block that keeps us from being open to people that we do not trust. Have you ever noticed in political debates that people are always interrupting one another? There is not a lot of listening going on. What we have here is a failure to communicate. There are many deep issues in this example, but a lot hinges on being unwilling to listen.

As musicians, if we really claim to play by ear, then we should understand the importance of listening. We must constantly practice active listening. We must listen to the song to learn what to play. We must listen to the music director for instruction. We must listen to the other musicians in order to play together and not simply at the same time, like two political candidates arguing over one another. This also applies to relationships.

He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches.
Revelation 2:29;3:6;3:13,22

I read something interesting this week in This Is Your Brain On Music by Daniel Levitin. Pitch, loudness, and sound in general are purely psychological phenomena. All of these perceptions are just how our brain interprets air pressure. You literally cannot hear without an ear. This has really been heavy on my mind.

I hope that we can all be better listeners.

How To Go To College As An Adult

I can’t slay your college giant, but I can tell you how I killed mine.

I started my higher education career at Gateway College of Evangelism back in 2005. Fresh out of high school. But I left at the end of the semester to go work in youth ministry in Virginia. I did that for 12 years. I have no regrets. But I have always felt like college was a big ugly giant following me around every day. I knew that if I didn’t square up with him and whip him then he would never leave me alone.

Maybe that’s how you feel. If so, I can’t slay your college giant. But I can tell you how I killed mine: Slowly.

Zane, you’re too smart to not go to college.
Pastor Jeremy Wilbanks. (And a bunch of other people)

Make a Decision

This is where you confront college. I am going to engage in mortal combat with this giant. I am not going to give up until I kill him. And when I am done I am going to hang him on the wall in my office.

Have a Plan

You don’t just pick a fight with a giant without having some kind of plan. You need to know what you are going to study. You need a plan for when you will study. You need to know how much time you can allot for study so you don’t overwhelm yourself.

“College is really just a lot of reading.”

Non-traditional student. That is the label that college puts on you when you work a full-time job, are raising a family, and have many commitments outside of work. A traditional student has little or no responsibilities and is able to tackle college full-time straight out of high school. While non-traditional students do have more work and family responsibilities, they are not bound by traditional expectations. I guess I have always been a non-traditional student since I went year-round k-12. I also did a stint at Wilson University where you could only take one class at a time, but at your own pace. So if you wanted to complete a course in a month you had the freedom to do it. You could even test out of some subjects. This confused the tar out of my employer when I took advantage of their tuition reimbursement program.

There is a freedom in being able to make your own attack plan. I found that I was able to take two classes per semester and one each summer. It was a war of attrition.

College is expensive. You need to have a plan for paying for college. I have several friends that are still harrowed by student loan debt. For years I avoided going to college because I felt that it was irresponsible to accumulate debt. And I still feel that way. But it turns out if you are broke enough there is a strong chance that you can get a Pell Grant. And If you are persistent in applying, you could very well be granted a scholarship. I received a scholarship for Business Administration because I wrote an essay. Which makes me wonder how I earned a C in English Composition II.

Stay Motivated

And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. Galatians 6:9

One of the biggest motivators for me was a promise that I made to my Dad.

“I’m going to go back to college Dad.” This was one of the last things I told Dad while he was still lucid. He died a few days later. That was in 2018. It is 2023 now and I have finally graduated with a Associate in Science, Business Administration degree. Magna cum laude. This degree would only take a traditional student a couple of years at the most to complete. But I was and will always be a non-traditional student.

I really wish I could tell my Dad about this. But he is gone so I am telling you. I did something that no other Wells that I know has ever done. Something that not many of them even had the chance to do. My great-grandfather was simply uneducated. Pop (my grandfather) had to drop out of middle school to help make ends meet, but he valued education. So when my father graduated high school it was monumental for the Wells family. I strongly believe that Pop could have excelled as a mechanical engineer had he been able to continue his studies. There was hardly any machine that he couldn’t fix. He was also quick with mental math. I feel the same way about Dad. He had a brilliant mind. He could recall things he read decades before. He also had the remarkable ability to put abstract concepts into language that simple people could understand. Without a doubt, my father would have excelled in academia. But we can do nothing for the dead, and must address the living.

The other motivating factor for me to finish college was my children. I want my children to know that education is not something to fear. I do not want them to be destroyed for a lack of knowledge. I want them to know that hard things can be done, and they can be done with excellence.

There is a good chance that I will resume formal study again in the future. But currently I am sizing up a different giant.

Irregular Hours

Even when things were not busy in the office, we pretend they are and look busy.

For the better part of 15 years I have worked the rigid hours prescribed by HR departments of the County and State governments that employed me. 40 hour weeks. 1 hour lunch breaks. 15 minute breaks. Even when things were not busy in the office, we pretend they are and look busy. This is one of the reasons why I started writing. I had to fake being busy. Looking back, my supervisors were pretending to be busy by being concerned that I looked busy. Nobody really verbalizes this phenomenon at work, but everyone understands it.

At my most recent State job, we decided that we would try out four ten hour shifts. The idea was we were too busy answering phone calls during business hours to get any work done. So if we could have a few hours each day to work without the phone ringing we could get the work done. And have an extra day off.

After I made it through the allotted trial period, and consequently the busiest season of the year, I realized that the four ten hour shift was too taxing on my energy when I included my one hour commute and trying to do some important things every day. So I decided to switch back to five eight hour shifts.

I was talking to my coworker about how glad I was to switch back. The conversation went something like this.

“I am glad that I switched back to five eights. leaving the house at 5am and getting home at 6pm was wearing me out. But I might switch back next busy season.”

“They probably won’t let you.”

“Why not?”

“Because that would be too much like making your own schedule and they don’t want that.”

This conversation rattled me. For years I had wanted a job with regular predictable hours and now I had one. I had hated showing up to work to check the schedule and seeing that some boneheaded manager had me working on a church night. Or worse, being sent home because they were cutting hours. Now here I was working like a borrowed mule for three months out of the year, never seeing an end to the work. Then for nine months doing 15 hours of work per week and pretending to look busy for the other 25 hours. I wondered how productive I could be if I in fact did make my own schedule.

It was not long after this that I left that job. No hard feelings. No bitterness. No parting shots. But this conversation helped me make the decision to leave. When I was offered a new job one of the most attractive aspects was that I would indeed make my own schedule. So now I work irregular hours. And it is one of the best things that has ever happened to me.

I never could make any money. I was always too busy working.
Perry Wells

Open For Business

There aren’t many things that I have done that have been more fulfilling than teaching music.

My parents bought me my first guitar. I kind of forced them into it by signing up for guitar class at school. I didn’t learn a whole lot about playing guitar in that class, but I got a refresher on music theory. Eventually a proper flat-picker wandering into our church and showed me how to read tabs and chord diagrams, the major scale, how to play Bluegrass rhythm in G, and one Tony Rice lick before he told me, “I can’t show you anything else. If you really want to learn you will.”

In one sense, being told it is time to sink or swim really motivated me to learn. Conversely, I still had so much to learn and I had to learn it the hard way. Not having a teacher forced me to be a scholar. Learning how to learn on your own is what teachers really mean when they say you need to study. I have been studying guitar for over twenty years. As the physicians say, I am a practicing musician.

Learning to play guitar did wonders for my self confidence as a teenager. As an adult it still amazes me that I can play. This skill has also opened significant doors in my life.

Earlier this year the Lord delivered me from my one hour commute to work. The first things I did was start teaching guitar lessons again. There aren’t many things that I have done that have been more fulfilling than teaching music.

Get something in your life that God can bless.
Pastor Jeremy Wilbanks

Pastor has been saying that a lot lately to the church. It is one of the reasons that I wanted to start teaching again. I also feel like I need to put some of things I have learned while studying business in college into practice. Most significantly, I feel a responsibility to help musicians avoid having to learn the hard way. And God is blessing it.

Here are the answers to some of the frequent questions I get asked about learning guitar.

Should I start out on acoustic or electric? Choose the one that you want to play. You won’t be motivated to practice the acoustic if you really want to play electric.

What age do they need to be to learn? The youngest that I have successfully taught was seven. As long as they can pay attention and have enough hand strength to fret a note I can work with them.

Am I too old to learn? You are never too old to learn.

So if you or anyone you know is interested in learning guitar or bass guitar please send them my way.

zanewells@yahoo.com

Left Behind: Musician Thoughts

What a person prefers about music depends largely on the memories associated with that music, and how broad their musical tastes were while this theoretical window was open.

I was listening to a song this morning on the way in to work. It was Christian Pop and I liked it. It wasn’t the sort of song that I would think to play at church, but it was uplifting nonetheless. Quite often Christian popular music takes its cues from secular pop. The phenomenon of secular-or profane-musical influence on church music has been going on for at least a thousand years. I noticed that the influences on the song I heard this morning sounded a little dated. I checked the release date on the song, and low and behold the song was twenty years old. Two decades. No wonder the influences sounded dated.

There is a theory that each generation thinks that their music was the best. I believe that each person has a window in which their musical tastes are established. What a person prefers about music depends largely on the memories associated with that music, and how broad their musical tastes were while this theoretical window was open. It takes effort to broaden that window and learn to appreciate music that doesn’t fit an individual’s concept of what sounds good. Especially as we get older.

I have seen this theory proved in the two decades that I have been fortunate to play music at church. I have met musicians willing to quit church before they were willing to learn a new type of music. Do you recall about twenty years ago when churches were splitting over traditional versus contemporary music? If you are yet a teenager and cannot recall, I am here to tell you that the Christian pop music that sounds so dated now was powerful enough to split churches.

When you are young it is easy to point your finger at an older generation for not being willing to learn anything new-including music. I have watched older musicians who struggled to keep up with new trends in church music (electric guitars, drums, click tracks, drum loops, synths, etc.): some overcame, some did not. I have also witnessed those who downright refused to learn anything new. It made me realize that staying relevant-this word has been blunted by Christendom- as a seasoned musician will take more than a moderate amount of effort.

On the other hand, seasoned musicians do have the advantage of being able to recognize the influences on modern music. And not all influences are good. Seasoned musicians also have developed a voice on their instrument that usually only comes with years of hard work. Also a seasoned musician’s repertoire is one of their most valuable assets. Having a large catalog of songs goes a long way in picking the right song for the moment. For all that, there is a fear of being left behind as a musician. So what does a musician need to do in order to not be left behind?

I would say the principle thing is to stay in love with music. I have many friends that no longer play an instrument. They will tell you a lot of reasons why they stopped playing, but the underlying cause is that they do not love it anymore. It is hard to play with musicians whose heart is not involved.

I Chronicles 25:6 All these were under the hands of their father for song in the house of the Lord, with cymbals, psalteries, and harps, for the service of the house of God, according to the king's order to Asaph, Jeduthun, and Heman.

7 So the number of them, with their brethren that were instructed in the songs of the Lord, even all that were cunning, was two hundred fourscore and eight.

8 And they cast lots, ward against ward, as well the small as the great, the teacher as the scholar.

I think the pinnacle for a musician is to be chosen for the service in the House of God. In David’s Tabernacle musicians were chosen by lot. Chronicles categorizes them as small or great (young and old), and teachers or scholars (students). I believe that this is still the model for God’s ideal music team. Young and old, teacher and students.

In order for a church’s music team to be healthy there must be a relationship between teachers and students. A teacher must have a commitment to teach and the student must have a commitment to learn. Musicians must never stop learning. When you get to the point where you do not think you need to learn anything new then you will not learn anything new. Conversely, there comes a time when musicians truly become masters of their craft and it is their responsibility to teach the students. When this relationship breaks down then the team becomes dysfunctional. Lazy students will not grow and this holds back the progress of the whole team. Disengaged teachers will cause eager students to seek out other teachers, whether good or bad influences. And what they learn will have a profound effect on the entire congregation. Just ask anyone that remembers all the church splits at the turn of the century.

The Kind of Person I Want to Be

Loving people is something that is hard to fake.

I took a group of Young People to Youth Camp a couple of weeks ago. I am just now getting over the jet lag from staying up until 3am every morning. If everyone had as much fun as I did then I think we could call it a smashing success. We had to convince a couple of them that it would have a good time if they went. Some times it takes years before I can talk someone into trying something new. But even the Hobbits who left the Shire this week seemed to have a great time.

I noticed a young man at camp who had the peculiar characteristic of being endearing to everyone he spoke with. What makes people like this so magnetic? They are not necessarily popular because they are cool, although I guess you could say that many of them are cool. And maybe that is the only way we know how describe them because it is hard to articulate what they really are. It is more that cool. Not all cool people make folks feel good about themselves. These are popular because they make people feel special. They make you feel like that they sincerely care about you.

I have this ongoing quest with a dear friend to crack the code behind being the kind of person that I am trying to write about. A person you makes other people feel special. There is a question about whether or not this quality can be learned, or is it a gift that you either have or you don’t. I tend to think, or at least hope, that it can be developed. I believe that to be this kind of person, an endearing person, you really have to love people. Loving people is something that is hard to fake. Not that people cannot be faked into believe that you love them. But if you don’t love people, faking it is not going to be enjoyable. And it will be obvious to most of us. People can sense fake. People do not like fake.

Loving people is something that we are commanded to do. So that strengthens my hope that it can be learned.

There was a man in the book of Acts named Joses, but the everyone called him Barnabas. Barnabas means the Son of Consolation. When you give someone consolation, you make them feel better. It could also be translated Son of Encouragement. I just imagine that Barnabas had the kind of characteristics that I noticed last week. This is the man that connected with the newly converted Paul and introduced him to the Apostles. What was that conversation like? He was the pastor of the church in Antioch, where they were first called Christians. There is a strong chance that many of the congregants had relatives who were murdered at Saul’s orders. Barnabas believed in the young John Mark even after Paul lost confidence with him. Barnabas also understood sacrificial giving

There are a few people in my life that have played the roll of Barnabas in that they make me want to be better at everything that really matters. This is the kind of person I really want to be.

Identity

“Well Uncle Perry, there are some girls in my class and there are some boys in my class. And I’m one of the boys.”

My Dad had a special way of talking to children. He didn’t believe in baby talk. He talked to preschoolers the same way he would talk to the postman, or the President of the United States. You had to be a real imbecile- a word I hear in Perry Wells’ voice- for him to not want to talk to you. In a way I have inherited this characteristic. I guess you could say it is part of my identity.

Dad was really good at it. He was able to have conversations with children and children can say some profound things. Dad asked my cousin Kyle what he learned on the first day of Kindergarten.

“Well Uncle Perry, there are some girls in my class and there are some boys in my class. And I’m one of the boys.”

And we laughed. But Dad said, “That’s good! That’s a real important thing to learn.”

Identity is the fact of being who or what a person or thing is. I have been thinking a lot about identity lately. I believe that it is important to have a strong understanding of who you are. If someone does not not have a strong understanding of the fact of who they are, they become extremely vulnerable to someone else imposing a false identity upon them.

This is a very ancient and evil practice. Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah were handpicked because They were Children in whom was no blemish, but well favoured, and skilful in all wisdom, and cunning in knowledge, and understanding science, and such as had ability in them to stand in the king’s palace, and whom they might teach the learning and the tongue of the Chaldeans.
‭‭Daniel‬ ‭1‬:‭4‬ ‭KJV‬‬

It is no coincidence that one of the first things that happened was the boys got a new name. The world empires of antiquity, especially The Babylonian and Persian empires, were able to maintain their vast land holdings by allowing the conquered people to have their own local rulers. These Hebrew boys were brought to Babylon to adopt Babylonian customs and culture and possibly become administrative leaders in the empire. This was exactly what happened to Daniel.

The second definition for identity is the characteristics determining who or what a person or thing is. Babylon tried to strategically change the characteristics of these captive boys. I’m not sure if it happened at once or was a process, but Babylon changed their location, diet, name, education, and possibly their sexual identity. We kind of skipped over the eunuch definition in Sunday School, but there is a strong likelihood that these Hebrew boys were made eunuchs. If they were eunuchs it only strengthens the point that Babylon was unsuccessful in shaking off the true identity of Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah. They refused the king’s food, and most significantly they refused the king’s god. If you have never read their story you can find it in the book of Daniel.

An identity crises is a period of uncertainty or confusion in a person’s life. It seems that exploring your identity is a growing trend these days. I have recognized that there is a powerful force that expects people-especially young people-to question their identity, as well as everything else. And sadly it led to a sea of confusion. And God is not the author of confusion.

But what if you have a strong understanding of who you are, and you do not like you who are? Furthermore you do not like what, we’ll just say Babylon has to offer. I firmly believe that identity can be changed for the better.

Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.
‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭5‬:‭17‬ ‭KJV‬‬

Identity is a central theme in the greatest story ever told. Everyone who got a name change in the Bible had a spiritual encounter. Abraham, the Father of the Faithful, received a name change from the Lord. Abram to Abraham. Jacob to Israel. Simon to Peter. Saul to Paul. Zane to Jesus. When you are baptized in Jesus’ Name you take on his name. It is part of becoming a new creature.

For as many of you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ.
‭‭Galatians‬ ‭3‬:‭27‬ ‭KJV‬‬

Built to Last

From my research it is easy to see that some people are more interested in camera gear than they are in photography.

There is an old farm place that I pass on my cycling route. They tore the house down a while back and all that is left is the front porch still surrounded by the flowers that somebody probably planted decades ago. It was built to last, that old porch. I wonder how many conversations took place on that porch. How many naps were taken on the front porch swing? Did they have an old church pew on that porch like we did? Or an old milk can? I finally stopped and took a picture of it. The photograph didn’t turn out like I wanted. I blame my phone. I am not the biggest fan of the wide angle focal lengths that my iPhone camera offers. Or maybe I’m a perfectionist. But it is better than nothing.

I have been contemplating purchasing a digital camera. I don’t always jump on the band wagon for new technology until I’m sure it is here to stay. That’s why I’m still driving a pickup with manual transmission. It is painfully apparent that digital photography has firmly established itself and besides that I still have a drawer full of rolls of undeveloped film. So for the last few weeks I have been diligently researching digital cameras. And since it has been a bit overwhelming I wanted to share that burden with you.

From my research it is easy to see that some people are more interested in camera gear than they are in photography. There are people who have built careers on reviewing cameras, but their pictures fail to spark any inspiration. I have also noticed this phenomenon in the guitar market. There are collectors and there are players. I have met quite a few people who have truly spectacular guitars, amps, and effects, but are very comfortable telling you that they are not serious musicians and may only know a handful of chords. I have never really understood these people. I like to play my guitars. Then there are incredible musicians who either cannot afford an instrument that is worthy of their level of mastery, or they just simply do not care about gear. People are fascinating.

I have tried to keep this in mind while searching for the right camera for me. I just want to take pictures with a proper camera and not my iPhone. I also don’t want to have to dig through a bunch of digital menus on a screen. But the camera companies do not make it this simple. The product that I am looking for probably doesn’t exist. I want a digital camera that is just like an old 35mm film camera, with only ISO, Shutter Speed, and Aperture as manual controls. Instead they offer a bunch of different options that I do not fully understand. It’s like I have been happy driving my Ford Model T and now I am shopping for electric car, but I am getting stressed out choosing because I’m not exactly sure why I need Bluetooth connectivity.

I do this ever few years, research camera gear. And ever few years the market has completely shifted. Electronic things are not built to last and this really bothers me. Planned obsolescence is a factor in driving the electronics market. So there is a disconnect between me and the camera companies. While they are busy offering new color science, more megapixels, higher ISO, and faster autofocus, I am really drawn to things that stand the test of time. This is why have always balked at buying a digital camera and I am using an SLR from 1984.

In spite of my tendency towards nostalgia, I am still searching for a digital camera. I have come to the conclusion that composition matters more than technical specifications. If you can’t take a good picture on an iPhone, you probably won’t do much better on a fancy mirrorless digital camera although the image quality-which is not to be mistaken with quality of composition-will be better. Ultimately, a camera is a tool. I am hoping I can look past the marketing sugar-coating and find a workhorse that will help me get the job done. And hopefully the work will last.