​     It was a normal day in the life of a 17-year-old. I was doing my own thing, living my own life. The phone rang at the house. In a strong Italian accent, I heard, “Wayne! No hotta watah. It’s the watah heateh, the elementa.”
     It was my grandfather on the phone. I called him papa. He was about 89 at the time. My papa and noni came into the U.S. in 1919 from Italy and eventually migrated down to Hialeah, Florida. He spoke English well, but just had a strong accent. Papa and I had a special relationship. I admired him and I always knew that he loved me and was proud of me. I enjoyed being with him and learning things from him.
     As I listened to papa on the phone, I was trying to decipher what he was trying to say. I tried to ask for clarification, but he was a little hard of hearing and didn’t do well on the phone. Finally, I was able to figure out that he had no hot water at the house and the issue was the hot water heater. At the time, I worked at an electrical supply house, but knew very little about actual electricity. However, papa asked for me to come and I headed over.
     Once at papa’s, he walked me outside to a garage where the water heater was located. He said, “the hot watah heateh is no working. He then pointed to a cover plate on the unit and said, “the elementa.” “Oh, the element,” I thought. “That’s what he is saying. He thinks it’s the element.”
     He showed me how to drain the heater, remove the cover plate, locate and remove the element. I was curious how he knew that was the issue, but I respectfully headed to the hardware store to get a new one. In a short time, I replaced it, turned the water back on, and it worked like a charm! I was thrilled. As a 17-year-old, I had no idea how he knew what the problem was, but he knew. He was kind of like that. Papa knew a lot of stuff about a lot of stuff.
     He was a hard worker. As a product of the Great Depression, he was very frugal. I remember him doing odd jobs on the home and as a jack of all trades. He was still trying to get onto the roof of his home when he was in his 80s. I have many wonderful memories of my papa and think about him often. I wish I had learned more from him.  Kids just have their own agenda and do their own thing. Only when we get older do we look back and wish we could have changed a few things.
     I know have a grandson of my own. He, too, calls me me papa. I’m truly blessed in that I get a chance to see him several days a week. Having a child around the house is challenging, to say the least. After raising four kids, I thought my wife and I were finally empty nesters, but that’s not the case. Honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
     He’s always filled with energy and always wants to play. We have toys laying around the house and watch shows like Puppy Dog Pals, Roadster Racers, and Bluey. I’m glad that he enjoys coming over and we have a great relationship. Like a typical papa, I at times, spoil him something terrible. Nothing melts my heart more than hearing, “papa” from his lips.
     “Do you want to come in the pool papa?” he said playfully as he splashed around. I had just gotten home. Now, I’m not really a “pool person”. I grew up in Miami and had a pool growing up. To make matters worse, the pool that mama and papa got him is only 10-foot round and 30 inches deep. There is no actual swimming in this pool. I was resistant to join him. “Pweese,” he begged, giving me the sad face. Now, I’ve got a million things to work on, but five minutes later, I am in the pool and he and I are swimming away from the sharks, whirlpools, and tornadoes and having battles with the squirt guns.
     I realize my time with him is limited. Nothing is stable. I am enjoying the time. Although I am extremely busy, and there’s never a dull moment, one of the things that I’ve tried to do is say “yes” to him when I have every reason to say no. “Do you want to play Minecraft?” he asks as I sit on the couch perusing a book for an upcoming study. “Yes,” I say.
     There are times when he plays Minecraft on his handheld or on the game system, but that’s not what he’s talking about. He has quite the imagination and loves to make up games. He wants us to actually be the characters in Minecraft.
     The main character in the game is Steve who walks around and builds stuff. So, he and I, are both named Steve. “What should we do, Steve?” I ask. “Let’s go in the portal, Steve,” he says. For the next twenty minutes, or so, we’ll walk around the house and play Minecraft trying not to get killed by the zombies. He makes sure I get all the verbiage correct and that I’m faithful to the rules of the game.
     Pause” he says as I’m sitting on the couch. We’ve learned that when he says, pause, we’re supposed to freeze exactly where we are and not be cognizant of anything he’s doing while in this frozen state. Then, while we’re paused, he will move our arms around, put our finger in our own nose, or put objects in our hands. “Un-pause,” he says. At that point, we are supposed to be surprised at our unpleasant demise. For him, it never gets old. I have to cut him off at about thirty-seven times.
     BURRRRP. I couldn’t believe what came out of a six-year-old (think Elf and Pepsi). Laughing hysterically, he says, “That was a really big burp!” Triumphantly he asks, “Did I sound like a dinosaur?” “You did,” I said chuckling, “But, buddy, we need to practice good manners. “Excuse me,” he said. I try not to laugh uncontrollably.
     “Hey, buddy, do you want to make a movie?” Puzzled, he answered, “what kind of movie?” “You know,” I said excitedly, “I’ll just use my phone to record us doing something fun and we’ll make it into a movie!” He was all in and moments later, in interview style, I say, “today is [day/date] and we’re talking about what we did today.” We then shared the events of the day and I asked him to conclude with a short story that he had made up while we were in the pool.
     To be honest, I did have ulterior motives for making the video. Time passes so quickly and he’s growing up so fast. One of the things I wish I had was a way to remember my papa. That option doesn’t exist.
     But, one of the things that I can do is help my grandson remember our time together. He doesn’t know it, but I plan on uploading these short videos to a YouTube channel that he’ll have access to when he gets older. So, in a sense, we’re making movies and memories.
     I’m sure, as he gets older, he won’t always be as excited to see papa. But one day, when I’m gone, he might want to reminisce about some of the fun times we had together. In addition to the fun times, I also look forward to sharing important information with him—like how much I love him, how proud I am of him, and how my ultimate desire is for him to know and serve the Lord, and that I’ll be waiting for him in heaven.
 
Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.
 

​     There’s a lot of people I want to meet in heaven. Naturally, number one on the list is seeing Jesus face-to-face. But, I’d also like to meet some of the folks in the Bible like Moses, David, and Paul.
     Although it’s down the list, I’d like to meet the first person who decided to manicure their lawn and say, “Hey, I’m on to something. Let’s see if the Jones’ can keep up.” I’d like to ask that person, “What in the world were you thinking?” 
     It’s no secret that I’m just not a fan of lawn maintenance. I do so begrudgingly.
One particular Saturday, I was outside mowing in the 90 degree-plus temperatures. It was being baked by the sun, sweating profusely, and extremely uncomfortable. There were a dozen other things I’d rather be doing.
     As I continued, I heard behind me what sounded like a beep. For a moment, I wondered if, delirious from the heat, I had wandered off course and ended up in the street. I turned my head toward the sound to find a woman who had pulled up next to me in her car and stopped. I was intrigued and figured she wanted directions.
     She rolled down her passenger window and invited me over. To my surprise, she handed me an extra-large, ice cold soft drink and said, “My husband attends your church quite often, but I attend elsewhere. I do enjoy the chance to come once in a while and watch online. I just saw you out here and wanted to bring you something to drink.” I’ve always preferred to be a giver and have a hard time accepting. I accepted the drink graciously and thanked her profusely. It was the highlight of my day.
     Apparently, she drove by one time and saw me struggling in the heat, decided to drive back into town, get me a drink, and then come deliver it to me curbside. I was delighted and overwhelmed by her act of kindness and generosity. That day I was rehydrated by the drink and my faith in humanity was refreshed. I came inside bragging to my wife of this woman’s act of kindness.
     The next morning at church, I was still thinking about it when I looked down at my hand and realized something was wrong. Although I had all my fingers, something was missing. It took only a brief moment to realize, “My ring was gone!” Rats—not again!
     By “not again,” I mean, a couple of years ago, I hurt my ring finger and it swelled up. I really thought the swelling would go down in a day, but it didn’t. In fact, my finger got to the point where my ring was getting tight.
     My wife took one look and was very concerned. “You better get that ring off,” she pleaded, “You could lose your finger!” I tried using every means to get it off. I used soap, olive oil, and even that dental floss trick I saw on YouTube to try and get it off—nothin’ doin. It was stuck. A friend of mine suggested going to the fire station—that they might be able to cut it off.
     The folks at the fire station were extremely helpful and friendly. Glancing down at my hand, the firefighter said, “You need to get that ring off! “Yeah, that’s what my wife said, too” I responded. Thankfully, he was able to cut it off and the swelling in my finger went down in a couple of days.
     At that time, I decided that maybe it was time to think about a different style of ring. I decided to try a Tungsten ring. I wanted something simple and dark. I sized my finger, ordered the ring, and got it in about a week. One minor problem. It was a little looser than the last one. I figured that maybe it was because of the swelling in my knuckle. I never dreamed it would come off, but there I was looking down at my ringless finger exclaiming, “Rats, not again!”
     In addition to mowing the day before, I had put on garden gloves to pull weeds and rake leaves. After church I checked all the areas I had worked. No sign of the ring. My guess is that either it was laying in the yard—or it was in one of the eight or so garbage bags that went into the dumpster.
     I was a little bummed, but decided to have some fun and put it out there on social media saying something like, “Wife number 1: going on ring number 3.” I got a lot of great, humorous comments back. But one friend wrote, “Hey, I have a metal detector and can bring it over.”
     “What a great idea!” I thought. He came over and gave me the rundown on his metal detector. He was no amateur. He had the knowledge and the device and was a true pro. He said that with his detector he could tell the difference between a pop top and a penny. He could even tell how deep the object was. “If your ring is here,” he said, “this thing will find it.”
     I was pretty excited, but explained to him that I did not have a clue of where it might be—or if it was even in the yard. But, I did point out the major areas where I had worked. He grabbed his detector, put on the headphones, and went to work.
     As he searched, I had wonderful memories of my Uncle Don who had a metal detector back in the day. I was just a kid but loved to hang out with him and look for stuff. He even let me try it out. I hadn’t thought about that in years and the memories of my Uncle Don were pleasant.
     Like a seasoned investigator, my friend kept looking, diligently scouring over every inch of the yard—several times. But, unfortunately, no ring. I explained to him that I probably lost it in one of the numerous trash bags that were taken to the dumpster already. It was gone.
     He felt terrible for not being able to find it. I honestly just appreciated his deep kindness to even come over and try! I also enjoyed the fellowship and the trip down memory lane.
     A couple of days later, he called to
 
say that he dropped an envelope by the house. Inside was a note that said how bad he felt for not being able to find the ring and a gift that he said he and his wife wanted me to have to help me get a new ring!
     I was floored and called as soon as I could. I protested, “Seriously, you did all you could and I’m thankful that you even came over to try. I had a great time and enjoyed some wonderful memories of my uncle. I’m the one who lost the ring!” I protested. “I know,” he said, “but my wife and I just wanted to be able to bless you in this way.” I’m not often speechless, but I didn’t know what to say.
     In surrender, I acknowledged, “That is so kind and I am so deeply appreciative.” I put the note on the refrigerator and ordered ring number 3—one half size smaller this time.  
The new ring looks great and fits perfectly!
     I prefer to be a giver and extend generosity to those around me as opportunity arises. But, sometimes, we need to be able to receive too. I love my new ring and whenever I look at it, I remember that wonderful day and the kindness and generosity of two people who recognized an opportunity to make a difference in this world. Kindness really does have a ring to it.
 
Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.
 

     I handed my research paper to my professor with a confident grin. I had worked on the paper for days and was confident that it was a masterpiece! Although only in my first year of college, I knew that my professor would be impressed and would likely frame my paper and use it as an example for future students.
     Like a child anxiously awaiting Christmas morn, I couldn’t wait to get my graded paper back. On the fateful day, when class was over, he handed them out. Something was terribly wrong. All I could figure was he made a grievous error and inadvertently given me the wrong paper back.
     I could tell it was the wrong paper because this one had red marks all over it! I checked the cover sheet for the proper student and there it was—my name! Taken aback and a little embarrassed, I decided not to examine my paper on the spot. I stowed it away and headed home.
     Upon arrival, I carefully examined the paper, surprised to find notable errors all throughout. There were misspelled words, wrong punctuation, and poor writing techniques. Some of these were obvious.
     Others were new to me. He made notes like, “This is passive language,” “Your verb here is not in agreement,” and “Use a comma in your footnote rather than a period.”
     At first, I was taken aback. I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I also wondered if I was really cut out for college. But rather than getting bitter, I decided to get better. I accepted the criticism and decided to learn from it. Twenty-five years later, I’m still learning.
     A couple of weeks ago, I was telling a friend of an issue, years earlier, where someone was critical toward me on social media. He was surprised and said, “Wow, I never knew you needed such thick skin to be a pastor.” I laughed and said something like, “Pastors need a big heart and tough skin…kind of like a bighearted rhino.”
     All of us face some type of criticism from time to time. It’s not unique to any profession or person. 
     I don’t believe that any of us like to be criticized. Instead, we avoid it. When criticism manifests its ugly head, we bristle up in anger or retreat into isolation—or a combination of both. 
     Now, to be honest, some people just have the spiritual gift of criticism and were born to fight. They’re not looking for resolution and don’t believe in win/win. They just enjoy fighting.
     People who are overly critical generally operate from a heart filled with pain. Their critical spirit helps them feel better about themselves. Sometimes, it’s just best to not invite these people into your life.
     But for the most part, most people are not like that. Most people criticize out of love or concern. Over time, I’ve learned to embrace criticism as a gift. I’ve learned a couple of things about criticism over the years.
 
     Within each piece of criticism there is an element of truth.
     As a pastor for years, I have the privilege to talk to lots of different people. Everyone has their own opinion that is shaped by their own perspective and environment. But everyone has something to offer. Even a broken clock is right twice a day.
     If someone says to me, “I’ve got a bone to pick with you…I didn’t like it when you…,” I close my mouth, make solid eye contact, smile, and listen closely. I try to remember that, valid or not, they truly believe what they are saying. Generally, the altercation will fall into three categories.     
     First, there are times when it was simply a misunderstanding. In these situations, I may have been misquoted, someone just did not hear correctly, or got the wrong impression.
     I apologize that they were hurt and that I was not clear enough or gave the wrong impression. I tell them that I appreciate their honesty and the strength that it took to be transparent with their feelings and that I’m glad we could “clear the air.”  
     Second, there are other times, when I was just wrong. I made the wrong decision or did not think through something and made a mistake. During these times, I confess my error, ask for forgiveness, and tell them I will work on making necessary adjustments.
     This is not the time for me to point out their faults. I am only the student. I thank them for confronting me and allowing me the opportunity for growth.
     Finally, there are times when I was right in what I did or said, but they just didn’t like it. In these instances, I kindly reiterate my position, offer the necessary evidence for my stance, and apologize that their feelings were hurt.
     Although I may feel bad when people are hurt, I will not compromise what I believe to be truth. They’ll have to see my supervisor on that one.
     In each case, I strive to learn something. Even in times when I was right, I wonder if I could have been more loving and kind and approached it differently. Oftentimes, the answer is yes. The Bible says, “Speak the truth in love” (Eph 4:15). Love must be the ultimate motivation.
 
With criticism comes knowledge and growth.
     As an Associate Professor of speech, through the years, I have reminded my students that criticism is not a bad word. Criticism, done properly (often called constructive criticism), illuminates our imperfections and allows us to make corrections.
     Every single semester, my students are required to do peer evaluations—to point out what their peers did well and could have done better in their speech. They are also responsible to do a personal evaluation where they watch their own speech and offer a personal critique.
     Both are extremely painful, but both are essential for growth—kind of like surgery. The knowledge gained from these times of criticism is extremely beneficial for the future. I’ve had many students have that “aha” moment when watching themselves on video.
     Experience is the best teacher. As the young protégé asked his mentor, “How do I learn to make good decisions? The teacher replied, “By making lots of bad decisions and learning from them.”
 
     Criticism opens the door for reconciliation.
     While it’s true that some people are unkind and prefer to throw rocks on social media while hiding behind a keyboard, criticism, offered for the right reasons, can be an agent for introspection and transformation. The overall goal should be love and harmony. The Bible says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another” (Prov 27:17).
     I have a friend who used to say, “Don’t go away mad. Just go away.” As humorous as that appears, anger causes pain and isolation. It’s a lose/lose scenario.
     Rather, reconciliation and restoration should be the ultimate goal. The Bible says, “If anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness” (Gal 6:1).
     Obviously, none of us are perfect. That’s why God sent Jesus. If you think you are, your issue is simple—pride and arrogance.
     If you’d like to know what your imperfections are, ask several friends, “What do you think are my three greatest weaknesses?” Criticism done properly and received properly can be a wonderful gift. It tears down walls and opens the door for growth and reconciliation.
     Although it hurt at the time, I’m thankful for that research paper that was full of red marks. It helped me to become a better researcher and writer. It also helped me to become a better professor.
     Now, when grading papers, I use constructive criticism, positive reinforcement, specific examples, and, one more thing: I use purple ink.
 
Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.
 

     I stole the title of my article from a book written by Neil Postman in 1985. I read it in 2008 as a graduate student at UCM completing a degree in speech communication. It was required reading for the class, Modern Rhetorical Theory. I was curious why our professor would require a book from 1985 to discuss “modern” rhetorical theory, but it was a game changer for me.
     Postman was a brilliant communication scholar, social scientist, and had the unique ability to predict the future. In his introduction, Postman referenced the book by George Orwell entitled, “1984.” You may remember it. In his book, Orwell predicted an imaginary future in which the world had fallen prey to constant war, government surveillance and control, and propaganda.
     Writing in 1985 (the year after 1984), Postman joked that Americans were thrilled that Orwell’s prophecy did not come true and that 1984 came and went without incident.
     But then he reminded the reader of an older, slightly less known book, Aldous Huxley’s, “Brave New World” written in 1932. Most people assumed that the two authors wrote about the same thing, but they did not. They arrived at the same destination—one of undesired control—but they both took different routes to get there.
    Postman’s introductory notes are brilliant and chilling and I’ll quote him at length. He wrote, “Orwell warns that we will be overcome by an externally imposed oppression. But in Huxley's vision, no Big Brother is required to deprive people of their autonomy, maturity, and history. As he saw it, people will come to love their oppression and to adore the technologies that undo their capacities to think.
     What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one. Orwell feared those who would deprive us of information. Huxley feared those who would give us so much that we would be reduced to passivity and egoism. Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance.”
     I get chills when I read that. One of the interesting things about Postman’s comments were the fact that they were written in the mid 80s-long before the Internet.
     The concept for the Internet was realized early in the 1960s when a researcher at MIT conceptualized an “Intergalactic Network” of computers.  
     His dream became a reality in the late 1960s with the “ARPANET” or the Advanced Research Projects Agency Network—funded by the U.S. Department of Defense. Still, what we know as the World Wide Web did not come into creation until 1990. And the rest is history (I kind of feel like a reference to Skynet, artificial intelligence, and the Terminator should be included in there somewhere).
     Postman’s main point was that people would become overwhelmed and not think anymore—at least not with their brains. He compared our society to the “early days” of the colonists. He wrote of a time in history when folks would come out in groves to hear the Lincoln/Douglas debates—spending hours listening to them banter. People also discussed pertinent issues of the day like history, religion, philosophy, and politics. Their social experiences were integrated with education. People were informed and intelligent.
     Think about today’s society. According to a study by the Woodrow Wilson National Fellowship Foundation, only one out of three Americans could actually pass the US citizenship test if required. The test asks some of the most basic questions about our nation’s history and system of government.
 
For example,
 
72% could not identify the thirteen original colonies.
 
24% could not correctly identify one thing Benjamin Franklin was famous for—37% mistakenly believed he invented the lightbulb.
 
76% did not know why the colonists fought the British.
 
12% thought General Dwight Eisenhower led troops in the Civil War. Another 6% thought it was the Vietnam War.
 
2% believed that climate change caused the Cold War.
 
     As a society, we’re not unintelligent, we’re just misinformed and misdirected. According to a 2018 study by Claims Conference, 22% of millennials did not know what the Holocaust was. Overall, 10% of adults do not know. Scarier still, according to the Pew Research Center, 25% of Americans believe Hitler came into power in Berlin through a violent coup.
     Only 43% of respondents knew that Hitler came to power by democratic means. As George Santayana said, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
     As time has marched on and society has changed, we have lost, or as Postman suggests, surrendered our ability to think logically and critically. We are a mass of sheep, surrounded by wolves, in need of a shepherd.
     Postman suggests that one of the problems is “how” we get our information. It’s the delivery mechanism. In days of old, people listened or read material and were able to remember and analyze it. They were able to think critically.
     Today, our society is driven by visual images and catchy phrases that are available on multiple platforms. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words. Even in elections. People don’t vote based upon what they know but based upon what they feel. They don’t have the time, energy, or desire to study the facts. So, people vote based upon their emotions and sound bites. We can’t handle a meal. We just want a nibble.
     My grandson is six and like most kids, has a short attention span and loves to play. He especially loves Minecraft and Mario. He is not always thrilled with, as he puts it, “learning stuff.”
     Like most parents and grandparents, we limit his “screen time” when he comes over. Naturally, we give him plenty of options to which he sometimes replies, “It’s boring.” The interesting thing is, after we begin to read or play—or whatever, his imagination comes alive and he enjoys it tremendously. But once he gets a screen in his hand, it’s off to the land of Steve, zombies, and virtual entertainment where there is always a next level to conquer.
     Most adults are not much better. According to the Entertainment Software Association, 65% of adults play video games. According to Medical News Today, the average American gamer is a 35-year-old adult. Games aren’t “bad”, but scientists have proven that they do rewire our brains and are addictive.
     Entertainment has its place but should not have the main place. Many Americans say, “I’ve overwhelmed, I just need to relax,’ and want to be amused by Candy Crush, Netflix, or the Hallmark Channel. The problem with choosing amusement over education is the destiny. As I read through social media posts from time to time, I’m amazed and even frightened at what some people believe, but I’m not surprised.
     According to a 2017 Pew Research Center study, about 50% of U.S. adults get their “news” regularly from television. The other half get their information from other sources like talk shows or comedians, social media platforms, or from peers. “Did you see that story on Facebook?” is a common line. The credible newspaper of old has given way to the digital sensationalism of new and we’re paying the price.
     In addition, all the sheep are headed in different directions. That’s because our “reality” is shaped by what news agency we watch. My guess is that you watch a particular news entity because you believe they tell you the truth—and the others, you feel, are lying or have an agenda. That information shapes your reality.
     All of us are getting bits and pieces of the puzzle, but rarely seeing the entire image. That would involve additional research and critical thinking. We’re overwhelmed with information.
     Here’s a bit of free advice from one who worked in media. Any media outlet has one main goal: attract advertisers and stay on the air. “If it bleeds—it leads” is a common theme which means that a station’s lead off story better have something to attract viewers. It’s always “late breaking” or “this just in” or “killer hornets.”
     And, don’t blame the media. They just feed us what we like. We all complain on the highway that traffic is crawling because of a wreck and all of the “rubberneckers” ahead who want to look. But, then when we reach the site, we can’t help but look—and then tell someone else “Man, did you see that wreck!”
     In 1985, Postman was able to paint a portrait of what we’re seeing today. A world where people are overwhelmed with information—but can’t think for themselves. A world where people prefer amusement over entertainment. This article was written not for your entertainment, but for your consideration. As my friend, Neo in the Matrix said, “I don't know the future. I didn't come here to tell you how this is going to end. I came here to tell you how it's going to begin.”
 
Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.
 

     She was a trophy wife—but always on the lookout for a better display shelf. All the men in town knew her and loved to watch her walk by. All the women avoided her—and kept their husbands close by. She had been married five times and was apparently grooming number six. She wasn’t looking for Mr. Right, but Mr. Happiness.
     It was the hottest part of the day, and yet, she came out to the well in her city, Sychar in Samaria, to draw water. Most of the women came to draw water in the cool of the day. It was a social event where they would often catch up on the latest gossip. She wasn’t invited and was likely shunned by the group.
     She didn’t know it, but on this particular day, she had a divine appointment with the Son of God. She was His noon appointment that day. Jesus came to the well and asked her for a drink. She was spunky and had attitude. Her response was anything but cordial or respectful. She chided,  “How is it that you, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a woman of Samaria? For Jews have no dealings with Samaritans.” She did have a point.
      She was alluding to a long history of hatred between the Jews and the Samaritans. At one time, they were one people. But that was a long time ago. It’s a long story of brothers who ended up drifting apart and hating one another. The Jews would say of the Samaritans, “They ain’t like us.”
     The short story is, both groups were “sons and daughters of Abraham” and lived together in “one land.” But, tension arose, and they divided into two kingdoms: north and south. The north became known as Samaria and the south, Judah. They were divided by geography and religion.
      In 722 BC, Samaria was invaded by the nation of Assyria. Many people living in the north were deported while some Assyrians were brought in to integrate with those who were allowed to remain in the land. Assyria knew that intermarriage would help integrate the people into the Assyrian kingdom and culture.
     Fast forward to Jesus’s time and the people of the north had lost their true blood lineage. The Jews in the south considered the northerners “half breeds.” They were half child of Abraham and have other stuff they didn’t like.
     There was an incredible amount of hatred, anger, and racism between the two, neighboring communities. In fact, the Jews would do everything they possibly could to avoid walking through Samaria. If Jews had to pass through a Samaritan village, they would literally, “shake the dust from their feet.”
     In this beautiful story, Jesus crosses geographical, cultural, and religious barriers to offer this woman, “living water.” After one sip, she was satisfied. And the walls came tumbling down. A loving Father and a good drink have a way of doing that.
     We’ve created a lot of great things in America, but as you can see, we didn’t invent racism. It’s as old as man himself and exists in every culture and every people group. We’re struggling with the issue of racism in our country—and have for some time.
     For the last decade, I have taught college classes in communication. Every semester, I show Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s, “I Have a Dream” speech which was delivered at our nation’s capital in 1963.
      I show the speech because it is masterfully written, is full of emotion, beautiful imagery, and crafted using airtight logic. In addition, the message of ending racism needs to be heard again and again.
     I don’t have the space to work through the entire speech, so I’ll hit the highlights. King’s “dream” is founded upon the American dream. It’s a dream of a better life—a better existence—for everyone. The dream is not ethereal and irrational. It is foundational and logical.
      King strategically quotes several documents. As a preacher, he quotes extensively from the Bible. He recognized that all people were created in the image of God and have equal value and tremendous worth. God’s desire is that people would love one another.
     In addition to the Bible, King references the Emancipation Proclamation stating, “this momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice.” One does not throw the term, “injustice” around lightly. To claim injustice means that someone or something has departed from that which is just—or right. His claim is that one-hundred years later, it’s an historical document, but nobody’s doing what it says.
     King also references the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. These documents, he said, were designed to be “a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
     I always make sure to point out the financial imagery weaved through the speech because if you don’t understand that, the speech is void of its intended power.
     King noted that these foundational documents promised great opportunities for all people, but they were just documents when it came to people of color. These documents which provided “the bank of justice” and “great vaults of opportunity,” were not true for people of color. He suggested that America has, in essence, given them, “a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."
     His cry was not economic. He was not suggesting socialism or quotas, but simply that all people be treated equally and have the same opportunities. In one famous line he said, “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”
     King’s message of equality was one that he hoped would be pursued peacefully. He said, “We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence.” He also realized that the great melting pot must produce one precious metal. When addressing the “whites of the nation” he said, “their destiny is tied up with our destiny…. their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.”
     We’ve come a long way since 1963. We no longer have segregated eating places, sitting areas, and drinking fountains for different races. But racial tension in our country is still there—even reverse discrimination. Racism should not be tolerated.
     I am unapologetically pro-law enforcement. I have close family members and friends who protect and serve. They judge people based upon the content of their character. I know their hearts and their stories. I stand with them.
     I cannot judge, but I will say that in every profession there are those who abuse power and authority. Unfortunately, some of these are in law enforcement. The problem is not law enforcement, but a few individuals. There is great danger in throwing the baby out with the bathwater and thereby undermining and deteriorating the fabric of an organized society.
From what I’ve seen on social media, people seem to think that you have to “choose sides.” You have to choose to support the police or the African American community.
     It’s not about choosing sides. In fact, “sides” are the problem. Whenever you find yourself using language such as “them,” “those people,” or “that group,” you manifest the racial tendencies within you. In your heart, you say, “they ain’t like us.”
     To talk about “behavior” is another conversation entirely. Those claiming to protest by angrily attempting to hurt officers, citizens, or to ransack and destroy businesses are not protesting. Stealing a television from someone’s business is not a protest. These individuals are committing crimes. They are selfishly using a difficult time in our history to pursue their own evil pursuits. Their actions should not be tolerated. They are no less guilty and should be punished.
     So, I support law enforcement and I support a nation where we all get along. The only way we’re going to get there is together. We need to change our terminology from “them” to “us”. We’re all is this boat together. A hole on my side of the boat is a hole on your side.
     One last thought. The framers of our Declaration of Independence wrote, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”
If, as they note from the Bible, that “these truths” are “endowed by [our] Creator,” then recognizing His Sovereign, purposeful hand is the best place to start. The Father wants everyone to play nice in the sandbox.
     As a community, let’s work together to ensure that racism has no place in our halls. The only way to do that is to evaluate our hearts. Let’s sit down at the table of brotherhood and truly listen to one another. Let’s keep the dream alive. When I do my part and you do your part, we will have done our part.
 
Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.
 

     I have been a student for most of my life and learned many facts in some great institutions from some tremendous professors. But by far, my greatest teachable moments have been learned through life itself.
     An anonymous author said, “necessity is the mother of invention.” In other words, when life changes, we do what it takes to get the job done. Some of the best lessons are learned in times of our greatest struggles. 
     During these recent, difficult times, we’ve faced great challenges, but we’ve overcome. We readjusted and made it happen. As individuals and as a society, we are innovative and will do what it takes to make it through. During the last several months, we have all learned some important lessons. Here are a few things that I have learned.
 
Life can change in an instant
     When we first learned about the coronavirus we were intrigued. We all followed the story and found it interesting and a little unsettling. This new information was way out of our comfort zone. We didn’t know what to do with it or where to file it. We didn’t have a file marked, “pandemic.” One thing we did know is that we needed more toilet paper.
     In an instant, our lives were changed. Everything was different. We enlarged our vocabulary to include words and phrases like COVID, pandemic, social distancing, Zoom, and essential services.
     Life changed very fast and we had to adjust. People were told to stay home as much as possible.
     Because of that, many people worked from home. Schools had to teach using an online venue. Parents needed to adjust schedules. Everything changed in an instant. We are still adjusting to a “new normal” and wondering when things will get back to the “old normal.”
 
People can be kind
      Like you, I got so tired of being bombarded by all the negative and frightening news on television and social media. It was all anybody was talking about—and rightly so. It was a frightening time. I remember early on, going to the store and seeing empty shelves and wondering, “what is happening?”
     “Sir, you’re only allowed two packs per family,” the grocery worker said kindly, but firmly to the man pushing the cart by me.” His cart was full of toilet paper. “It’s not all for me,” he frowned,   “Some of it’s for my mother and she does not live with us.” “You’re allowed just two packs per family,” the worker said again. I moved on. Rationale went out the window. People were panicked and fuses were short.
     But, in the midst of all this, we saw a glimmer of hope. There was beauty from the ashes. From time to time, we got a glimpse of love and respect. We saw hope for humanity.
     I loved seeing and hearing the stories of people who helped the elderly in the grocery stores, those who donated goods or services to the less fortunate, and many other random acts of kindness.
    I loved seeing the Facebook posts pop up where someone would say, “I have a need” and others, often random strangers, would rise to the occasion. I loved seeing the parades through the neighborhood by teachers who wanted to let their students know that they cared deeply about them and that everything would be okay.
     It was moments like those that reminded me that, deep down, people do care.
 
Not all heroes wear a cape
     During the epidemic, we began using phrases like “essential” and “non-essential.” Both terms came complete with obligations and possible ramifications.
     There were many who served quietly among us. Some of these were our first responders, medical personnel, and those who worked in essential services.
     Probably like you, I can think of several people in the medical community who continued to care and to serve putting themselves and their families potentially in harms way. I’m sure, at times, they didn’t want to and second guessed their profession, but they did what needed to be done in a very difficult time. They served professionally and sacrificially. We are grateful for your service.
 
We’ve gotten used to noise
     Remember when things were “normal?” We had sports on TV, drove our kids to practices, games, and recitals, and said “see you later” several times a day? Life was busy and it was noisy.
     When the pandemic first hit, everyone was somewhat paralyzed and wondered, “what are we going to ‘do?’” People and families had to readjust. Families were forced to stay indoors and be together. With the TV off, family members were talking, playing games, and enjoying each other’s company. It reminded me that the best gifts in life are free.
     “I like to build things,” my six-year-old grandson said who was now learning online. “What would you like to build?” I asked, putting down my book. “I want to build a treehouse or a big hill,” he said.
     Trying to steer the conversation into something that was a little more cost-effective, easier, and matched my skill set, I thought about the large cardboard box papa and mama were saving for him. “How about building a robot?,” I said. Using a razor knife, some duct tape, and odds and ends, we went into creative mode and just had fun for a little while.
     Before the pandemic, our lives were very busy and very noisy. During this time, many of us have simplified our existence and even learned some new hobbies. In some odd way, I think many people would say, it’s been good to slow down a little.
 
We were built to connect
     As an introvert, by nature, I’ve often joked that I wouldn’t mind working in a room by myself and just having someone slide some coffee and pizza in every once in a while. But, during this time of social distancing, there have been some grey days. I’ve found that I need people.
     As a pastor, I’ve missed the opportunity to see many in our congregation face-to-face. I’ve missed seeing them and hearing their stories. I’ve missed the handshakes and hugs and I’m looking forward to seeing one another again.
 
The future is uncertain
     As I write this, meat prices have risen and experts say, we could see higher prices for some time. We all ask questions like, “why is this so?” and “what does this mean?” For me, it’s another reminder that the future, in general, is uncertain. But then again, it has always been this way.
     Jesus said, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? (Matt 6:25-26).
     Jesus’s point is simple. We have no control over our lives. We can try to manipulate our environment, but in the end, the future is uncertain, and God is ultimately in control. That’s really good news.
     One of the things that I had to learn years ago was to hold on to life loosely and trust God in the process. I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but I do know who holds tomorrow.
 
Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.
 

     I remember my last ticket. It was in 2016. It was a day of lasts. It was my last day on the air at Life 88.5 and I was transitioning to the pastorate at First Baptist Grain Valley.
     I was prepared for my exit, but I knew it would be an emotional day. After working in broadcasting for twenty-five years, I was ready to hang up my headphones. I just knew it would be a tough day.
     I didn’t sleep much the night before and was up at my normal time—before 4 AM. So many thoughts were going through my head and I was pretty antsy.
     As I headed west, I wasn’t late, but I was in a hurry to get there. While driving down I-70, I got stuck behind a tractor trailer doing 55 mph. I’m not really one to speed, but I do like taking full advantage of the speed limit. I want the full experience.
     I was excited when I saw my exit at
I-470. However, I was miffed when the tractor trailer in front of me merged into the exit lane also. There was no way around him—so I would have to wait, but it wouldn’t be patiently.
     On the exit curve, he slowed down to about 25 mph and by this time, I was fit to be tied. Like a caged animal, freedom beckoned from the great beyond.
     I methodically planned my escape. Once we hit I-470, I would make my move. With precision timing, I stepped down on the gas with enough force to dent the floor. The engine roared to life and any plan he might have had to deter my escape quickly dissipated. I couldn’t wait to get around him and give him, “the look.”
     Roaring past him, I felt a surge of energy. Freedom at last!
     Like a bad dream, from out of nowhere, I saw the flashing lights behind me. I wondered who the poor victim would be this time and I pitied the soul. To my surprise, the police car pulled behind me. “Surely, he’s not pulling me over” I thought. Although I did dart out from behind the truck, it was with the accuracy of a professional racecar driver. True, I didn’t use my blinker, but who has time for such trivial affairs at a time like this? I looked down, and yes, I was going a little over 70, but it was only so I could pass the truck.
     I quickly surrendered, put on my flashers, and pulled over. I knew the drill and placed my hands on the steering wheel in plain sight of the officer. He approached my vehicle and asked, “can I see your driver’s license and registration?” “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I thought. Naturally, I didn’t say that out loud. “Yes sir,” I said and forfeited my personal documents.
     After a few moments he returned and said, “Sir, you were doing 70-mph in a 55-mph zone.” I was shocked. “That can’t be right,” I thought. But I knew better than to argue. I would take this one to the Supreme Court if I had to. He was clearly in the wrong and, knowing his error, he probably wouldn’t even show up. I was compliant and respectful and the last thing I wanted was a ticket.
     I wanted to tell him of my admiration for police officers. I wanted to tell him that he was likely mistaken about the drop in the speed limit. Perhaps he didn’t sleep well either. I wanted to tell him we had several police officers in our family. I wanted to tell him it was an emotional day and if he did not give me a ticket, he would be helping my emotional well-being. But I said nothing but, “Thank for your service. I appreciate what you do in keeping us safe.”
     I was mad the rest of the day and couldn’t wait to come through that area again to justify my behavior.
     Several days later, I drove back that way, and sure enough, a speed limit sign was there that said 55-mph! At first, I thought that maybe he snuck out that night and put it there, but I knew better. I just missed it. He was not wrong. I was. Bottom line: If I was doing the speed limit, I would not have gotten a ticket. The fact that I was unaware of this fact is irrelevant.
     Laws are in place for society “as a whole” and not necessarily to benefit me personally. It’s not about me. It’s about us. The fact that I don’t agree with the law or don’t think it’s fair is irrelevant.
     The Bible talks about obeying the law. In Romans it says this:
“Everyone must obey state authorities, because no authority exists without God's permission, and the existing authorities have been put there by God. Whoever opposes the existing authority opposes what God has ordered; and anyone who does so will bring judgment on himself. For rulers are not to be feared by those who do good, but by those who do evil. Would you like to be unafraid of those in authority? Then do what is good” (Romans 13:1-3, NIV).
     The only time a Christian is permitted to “defy” a law is when the law violates the Word of God (perhaps the subject of another article). However, obeying the speed limit does not fall into that category. God gives governmental authorities the right to impose regulations for the good of society.
     I am always a little disappointed when I read social media posts that undermine the work and character of law enforcement. Phrases like, “Cops just ain’t got nothing better to do but harass people,” are completely unfair and, I believe, detrimental to society.
Having several family members and close friends in law enforcement, I know that they are not just out to harass people. But, they are sworn to uphold the law—whether they like it or even agree with it.
    That’s the power of law. The officer that pulled me over might have thought, “hey man, sorry, this is really dumb to be 55 mph right here, so I’ll let you off,” but opinions are meant to be shared over coffee. His job is to support and enforce the law.
     Police officers and pastors have a few things in common when it comes to engaging with the public. For one, everyone I meet is a saint. When they find out that I am a pastor, they apologize for their salty language and immediately put up a shield saying, “sorry Reverend.” The same is true with those in law enforcement. Everyone they pull over has done nothing wrong and they try to justify their behavior.
     Another thing that we have in common is that we generally see more of the “bad” in people than the good. We see incredible hurt, sadness, and pain. We’re lied to and taken advantage of constantly. We carry this burden alone, sometimes to our own detriment.
     I pray daily for a close family member who is in law enforcement. I pray for his physical safety, but I also pray for his heart. I don’t want him to become jaded or bitter because of the constant negativity coming at him. He has to deal with people who don’t like what he does, he gets torn up in the media, and he is belittled on social media.
True, there are a few “bad eggs.” But, there are also bad auto mechanics, teachers, politicians, plumbers, and even preachers who take advantage of the system and other people. It’s an unfortunate part of life.
     Most of those in law enforcement are good people. These men and women are serving a calling and protecting us. Like us, they are human beings with feelings and families.
     Law is in place to protect everyone. And, there are people out there who are lawbreakers. As an organized society, those who break the law must be dealt with. We trust those in law enforcement to do that.
     Through conversation with family and friends, I’ve heard stories of those who were pulled over for a minor violation, protesting that they were innocent of any wrongdoing, only to find out that they were hiding a serious offense.
     The easiest way not to get in trouble with the law is to obey the law. If you don’t like the law, go through the proper channels and change it. Until then, please understand, an organized society needs to support those who enforce the law. Police officers are not just hanging around looking to cause the average person terror or misfortune. They are just doing their job. A job that we have empowered them to do. I am thankful for them.
     It’s not a law, but it would be good if, we as a community, we would support those who protect us.
     I’m hoping that my last ticket was, indeed, my last ticket. One thing I can promise you is, whenever I merge onto I-470 west from I-70, I drop down to 55. After all, it’s the law.
 
Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.
 
 

​     The title is a little weird. Hopefully, it intrigues you. At the outset, let me be totally transparent. What you eat is your business (unless it’s the last donut from the break room. Then we might have issues). Even if you like lima beans, we can still be friends—just don’t force your views on me.
     When it comes to vegetarianism, I don’t really have a dog in the fight. Unless it’s a hotdog. I have a friend who gags at the thought. I don’t do hotdogs often, but when I do, I prefer Hebrew National (they are 100% Kosher Beef). Their slogan used to be, “We answer to a higher authority”.
     I enjoy a good hotdog about 2 or 3 times a year. By “good”, I generally like them fried in bacon grease and topped with bacon, cheese, catsup, onions, and relish (I won’t force my views on you).
     I realize I need to define a couple of terms. First, vegetarianism. To paint a broad stroke, vegetarians do not eat meat. This term should not be confused with the term, vegan. These folks choose not to consume any animal products whatsoever. For the sake of this article, I’ll just use the term vegetarianism for simplicity.
     The other term that needs definition is anthropomorphism. This is the practice of giving human traits to non-humans. For the purpose of this article, I specifically mean animals.
     For example, consider Mickey Mouse. Mickey has a humanlike face, arms, walks on two legs, talks, has intelligence, emotion, owns a dog, and wears clothes. He’s kind of like us, but his ears are a little bigger.
     Mickey goes down in history as the first talking animal on screen. Although in earlier films he whistled, laughed, and cried, it wasn’t until the 1929 film, “The Karnival Kid,” that Mickey uttered his first words. He was selling hotdogs at a carnival and shouted, “hot dogs, hot dogs.” Perhaps, now you understand why Mickey likes the phrase, “hotdog!” and does, “the hotdog dance.”
     Back to my theme. Some vegetarians choose the lifestyle because they believe it is a healthier option. It’s forks over knives for them. Those who adhere to this eating pattern claim to have lost weight and to be happier and healthier. I have several great friends who choose this lifestyle and it works really well for them.
     There is such a thing as the carnivore diet. As you would have guessed, these people eat only meat and animal-based products. No veggies or tofu. It’s knives over forks for them. Those who adhere to this diet claim to have lost weight and to be happier and healthier.
     While some vegetarians choose the lifestyle for health reasons, there are some who choose it because of their sympathy for animals. Some just believe it is wrong for humans to eat other animals.
     I love animals of all kinds (although I prefer dogs). I also believe in respecting and, at times, protecting animals. In addition, I believe that some of the ways that animals are raised and harvested for food is just downright shameful. But, I do not believe it is “wrong” to hunt or eat animals—even if you do most of your hunting at Price Chopper.
     Here’s where my Christian worldview affects my eating habits. Initially, God created all creatures to be vegetarians. He wrote, “And to every beast of the earth…I have given every green plant for food” (Gen 1:30). However, after the flood, man was given the other animals to eat. He wrote, “Every moving thing that lives shall be food for you. And as I gave you the green plants, I give you everything” (Gen 9:3).
     You could even say that God, Himself, enjoys a good steak. Or, at least meat on the grill. Throughout the Old Testament, sacrifices of meat were given as a sacrifice. God commanded this saying, “you shall offer a burnt offering, for a pleasing aroma to the Lord” (Num 29:2). The concept was, the animal was consumed on earth and, kind of like on Star Trek, rematerialized in heaven.
     So, for me, it’s not wrong to eat meat, but it may not be healthy for me to eat too much of it. Also, it’s not wrong for you not to eat meat. It’s personal preference. Eat what you want.
     Now, back to anthropomorphism. I was watching a TV show with my young grandson some time ago. Like many other kid’s programs on TV, it had creatures that talked. We’ve all become accustomed to talking dogs, cats, horses, cows, and even turtles on the half shell.
     In these shows, these animals refer to each other by name. They talk, wear clothes, have human features, emotions, and, for the most part, they get along. For example, on Disney’s, “The Lion Guard,” a group of animals bond together to form a protective group that combines their efforts to create harmony in the circle of life. They, of course, are led by a young lion.
     These various animals talk, play, work, and eat together—just not each other. The animals that eat other animals, like the hyenas, are painted as “dark” characters from the wasteland. They’re the bad guys who want to disrupt harmony in the circle of life.
     On Disney Junior’s show, “Giganotosaurus,” there are a number of different dinosaurs with anthropomorphic characteristics. However, there is one creature that is different from the rest. The character, Giganotosaurus. He is modeled after the T-Rex and is a ferocious beast who is always hungry—and eats meat.
     The interesting thing about Giganotosaurus is that, unlike the other creatures, he does not speak. He appears to be more of a vicious beast that is more animal that human. Thankfully, the other dinosaurs are working on him and he has a soft side.
     The topic of anthropomorphism has fascinated me for some time, but to be honest, I’ve never done any “serious” research. All I offer is observation and speculation.
     There is no doubt that we have been affected by anthropomorphism. I did feel sorry for Bambi. And, personally, I believe that a rise in vegetarianism could be linked to a rise in anthropomorphism. When kids see talking animals on television that have families, emotions, hurts, pains, and common struggles, they identify with them.
     In addition, they are indoctrinated with phrases like the one from Bruce, the great white shark in “Finding Nemo” who said, “I am a nice shark, not a mindless eating machine. If I am to change this image, I must first change myself. Fish are friends, not food.”
     After being traumatized by the movie Jaws as a kid, I certainly hope Bruce (which interestingly enough was the name of the shark in Jaws) can convince his friends to follow suit. Perhaps we can enjoy some lima beans together.
     I place a firm line between animals and humans. We are different. They ain’t like us. They do not have the same worth or value.
     I say this because of my biblical worldview. Only humans were created in the image of God. The animals, and rodents who wear pants and drive cars, were not.
     In closing, eat what you want. That’s not the issue. But, I do think it’s important to think about these things. Also, I wonder if when Mickey and his friends enjoy hotdogs together if they are Hebrew National? And, why is it that their friend Claribel (the cow) is strangely absent when they partake?
 
Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.
 

​     In 1908, a lady by the name of Anna Jarvis of Philadelphia, desiring to honor the memory of her mother, observed the first Mother’s Day--on her own. Liking the idea so much, she began to lobby across the nation to get the whole country to be alerted to the need for an official Mother’s Day. Six years later, Congress affirmed the idea and got the signature of President Woodrow Wilson in 1914. Mother’s Day always falls on the second Sunday in May.
     God created both the man and the woman in His image to reflect His character. That means, both genders reflect the heart of God. When we were young and fell off the bike, it was dad who said gruffly, “rub some dirt on it and get back on.” It was mom who ran over, picked us up, dried our tears, put a band aid on it, gave us a hug and told us to try again and that they would be right by our side.

Moms give us a glimpse of the tenderness of God:
     The Bible uses words like tender, compassionate, loving, and merciful to describe God. We see these qualities, most often, in our moms. From our moms were learned what it meant to love and to forgive.
     Someone has noted that the creation of the woman was something like this: When the Lord created the woman, an angel stood by and marveled. “Lord, you are taking a lot of time on this one.” “Yes,” the Lord replied, “this creature is intricate and complicated. She is tough and tender. She will need replaceable parts, need to be able to operate on minimal sleep and coffee. She will need great strength and patience and have a lap that can hold three children at one time. She will need a kiss that can cure everything from a scraped knee to a broken heart and have six pairs of hands." The angel was astounded. "Six pairs of hands!” “Yes, the Lord replied, “but it's not the hands that are the problem. It's the two pairs of eyes that mothers will need! They will need to see through closed doors and always know what’s going on in the other room. They will also need eyes in the backs of their heads to know what’s going on behind them. Their children will be dumbfounded.”
     The Angel said, "This is a special creation! “Ah, yes,” the Lord continued, “she is so close to my own heart. She will be able to heal herself when she is sick, operate on little sleep, feed a family of six on a pound of hamburger, and juggle 19 different things all at the same time.”
     Suddenly the angel blurted out, “Oh, but Lord, there is something wrong with her.” He pointed to the woman and said, “It leaks.” The Lord smiled and said, “That’s not a leak. It’s a tear. Although the mother’s hide is incredibly tough, her heart is equally as tender. As a mom, she will endure much heartache, but in the end, she will say, ‘it was worth it.’”
     Mothers show us the tenderness of God. I have the wonderful pleasure of having two amazing women in my life. Growing up, my mom was an incredible woman of strength, talent, and tenderness and always ensured that my sister and I were raised properly. She sacrificed much for our benefit. I know without a doubt that I am the man I am today because of the influence of my mom.
     My wife is an incredible woman as well. She loves unconditionally and serves endlessly and sacrificially. She is constantly putting the needs of our family above her own wants and desires. She is an incredible woman of strength and love and is the glue that holds our family together. I would not be who I am today without her influence.
 
Moms have typically carried the spiritual mantle in the family:
     In many churches, it is the women who serve as teachers and who are passionate about the helping ministries of the church. They work in the nursery, children’s programs, and look to meet needs through the ladies’ ministries. In many churches, if it were not for the women, the church would not survive.
     A great preacher of old, Dr. G. Campbell Morgan, had four sons who all became preachers. One day, a visitor came into the living room where all the four brothers were sitting and playfully asked, “so, with all the preachers in the family, who is the greatest?” Without blinking an eye, one of them replied, “our mother.”
     I am so thankful for the investment of many woman who serve the Lord and His church sacrificially on a regular basis. They are truly carrying the torch and molding a future generation to serve the Lord. They do this with incredible strength, wisdom, and grace.
 
Mothers deserve to be honored:
     Thomas Edison is considered to be one of the greatest inventors in history. He was the youngest of seven children and was not the best student in school. His teacher thought that he was disruptive and perhaps unstable and unteachable. Edison’s mother, who saw beneath the surface, saw his inner strength and intelligence and decided to teach him at home.   
     He would later say, "My mother was the making of me. She was so true, so sure of me; and I felt I had something to live for, someone I must not disappoint." It is true that Edison invented the light bulb, but it was his mother who provided the foundation and arena for his great creativity.
     For some of us, Mother’s Day is a positive experience. My childhood involved warm memories, pleasant experiences, and smiles. For others, like my wife, there is sorrow and pain. Her experience growing up was not pleasant. Mother’s Day is somewhat difficult for her.
     We never know where people are. For some, Mother’s Day brings up memories of a painful experience. Perhaps a mom who left too soon, or the heartbreak of a child. I’ll never forget a conversation where I asked a woman, “how many children do you have?” She said, “three at home and one in heaven.” Moms never stop being moms and may be carrying around incredible pain and sorrow and mask it with a smile.
     Also, there are women who would like to be mothers, but it just hasn’t happened. Never ask a couple, “so, when are you guys going to have kids?” It may be, that they have tried, but it just hasn’t happened. But they smile awkwardly and go on. I know several couples who fall into this category. There is much pain below the surface.
     Many of these women choose to be “spiritual mothers” and love on other people’s children. Over the years, we have been incredibly blessed by many women who have loved and invested their lives into our children and children at church. Although they had no physical children of their own, they had many children and leave behind an incredible legacy.
You’ve heard it said that when Jesus was on the cross, we were on His mind. This is true. But there was something else on his mind. Listen to these words from John 19:
     “When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple whom he loved [John] standing nearby, He said to His mother, ‘Woman, behold, your son!’ Then He said to the disciple, ‘Behold, your mother!’ And from that hour the disciple took her into his own household.”
During Jesus’s greatest struggle, He made provisions for His mother. Jesus, the very Son of God, cared for his mother with His dying breath. It is right for us to honor moms. Moms are special.
     I love the story of the teacher who was trying to teach one of the students about fractions. She asked, “Suppose your mother baked a pie and there were six of you—your parents, you, and three brothers. How much of the pie would you get?” The boy thought for a moment and said excitedly, “one-fifth.” The teacher said, “I’m sorry, that’s not correct. There are six of you so that would be one-sixth.” The boy blurted back, “it would be one-fifth in my family. You don’t know my mother. She would say she didn’t want any pie.”
 
     Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.

​     My friend Terry loves to tell a story about, Johnny, a young man in Sunday School. For months, his teacher tried to help the class learn some biblical terminology. He couldn’t seem to remember the word, Armageddon.
     Week after week she would question him about the word and he constantly got it wrong. Finally, in desperation, he cried out, “I’m just not going to remember it—and what’s the big deal, anyway? It’s not like it’s the end of the world!”
     My subject in this last article is no small matter. It’s about the end of the world. I prefer to write about happy things. But, I’m compelled by truth. Hopefully, this article will be insightful to Christians and illuminating to those who are not.
     Jesus promised that He would come again. These promises are weaved throughout the New Testament. The most concentrated teaching on the subject is found in the last book of the Bible, The Revelation (BTW the Greek word for Revelation is “Ἀποκάλυψις,” from which we get our word, apocalypse).
     John, the human author, provides a prophetic overview of what Christians would call “the end times.” The epicenter of biblical prophecy is not the United States, but the Middle East and specifically the nation of Israel. Ever wonder why for thousands of years, nations have tried to eradicate Israel—and yet it’s still there?. 
     When considering this topic, I should point out that, last year, I spoke on the subject of the end times and did a ten-week series on the subject. I only say that to say that most of what I write here will be an oversimplification in order to provide a basic overview and not exceed my suggested word limit (by too much).
     Within Christianity, there is no general consensus on “the order of events” on how or when Jesus will come back. Jesus said, “No one knows the day or the hour” (Mark 13:32). All we know is that His second coming is imminent.
     He promised, “Behold, I am coming quickly” (Rev 22:20). If you’re wondering what He means by quickly, the Bible reminds us, “A day in the Lord is like a thousand years and a thousand years as one day” (2 Pet 3:8). On God’s calendar, Jesus has been gone two days.
     Christians realize that when Jesus comes back, this world will be destroyed by fire. Global warming will not be the culprit. As Peter wrote, “But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved” (2 Pet 3:10). God, the Divine Architect, will erase the canvas and start all over. He will eliminate what is broken and make everything perfect.
     The “why” question always comes up. What’s the purpose? Like everything else, this world has an expiration date. Basically, what Satan, sin, and selfishness corrupted in the garden (Gen 3), God will “fix” and create a new heaven and a new earth (Rev 21).
     But, before you can bring in the new, it’s out with the old. Before Jesus returns, this world will experience a time of trouble. You may be familiar with the term, “the Great Tribulation.” That phrase is taken from Matthew 24:21 where Jesus said, “There will be great tribulation, such as has not been from the beginning of the world until now, no, and never will be.”
     The tribulation is a seven-year time period that will precede the end of the world. Jesus said that before the tribulation begins, there will be signs. Specifically, He told us to expect wars and rumors of war, famines, earthquakes, and plagues (see Matt 24:5-7 and Luke 21:11). These would intensify.
     The last three-and-a-half years of this time period is known as, “the Great Tribulation.” This will be a time period that will be all-out chaos and quite literally hell on earth as the antichrist (aka the beast, Rev 13) brings destruction as he seeks world domination. This is Satan’s last stand.
     For many years, previous generations have believed they would see Jesus’s return. Who could blame them? We all interpret the signs of the times from our personal and present perspective (fueled by our media choices). Can you imagine living in the time of the atrocities connected to World War II?
     I’m sure that many believed that Hitler, who sought to annihilate Israel and take over the world, was the antichrist. It must have been a frightening time, but the end was not yet.
     In our present world, many believe that we have been enlightened and have grown past the ridiculousness of the mistakes of the past. Not so much. History is cyclical. People are forgetful. Evil is real. This world will witness a time of chaos and destruction, such has never been seen, as the antichrist seeks to destroy Israel, the church, and seeks world domination.
     I’ve known all of this for years. Most Christians do. The question I’ve always had was, “How does the United States factor into all this?” To control the world, you’ve got to be able to eliminate freedom, control communication, and oversee the economy. Basic ruling the world 101.
     The Bible reveals that, during the end times, there will be famines. Most people make decisions based upon their own self-preservation and they will do about anything when they’re hungry (or need toilet paper, we’ve found).
     The Bible says, the antichrist “causes all, both small and great, both rich and poor, both free and slave, to be marked on the right hand or the forehead, so that no one can buy or sell unless he has the mark, that is, the name of the beast or the number of its name” (Rev 13:16-17). That’s what Christians call, the “mark of the beast.”
     This satanic world leader will attempt to unite, and then control, all people groups (global accountability) and oversee a global economy. So much could be written here, but suffice to say, it’s not about a chip in the skin; it’s about allegiance to an ungodly, satanic system. I’ve always wondered how the U.S., the greatest nation in the world, would factor in.
     During the coronavirus, we experienced firsthand, how a threatening virus, fear, and panic could lead people to change their behavior. I marveled at how quickly authoritative figures moved in and how Americans were willing to give up some of their freedoms for the general well-being and, perhaps, a stimulus check. (PS this is not a statement suggesting that quarantine is good or bad, but just an observation of how quickly things changed). Americans are polarized on this issue.
     About 200 years ago, a fascinating document emerged. It was either written by Alexander Tyler or Alexis de Tocqueville. It says, "A democracy is always temporary in nature; it simply cannot exist as a permanent form of government. A democracy will continue to exist up until the time that voters discover that they can vote themselves generous gifts from the public treasury.”
     The premise is fascinating and frightening. Nations, primarily democracies, go through a lifecycle that includes: From bondage to spiritual faith; from spiritual faith to great courage; from courage to liberty; from liberty to abundance; from abundance to complacency; from complacency to apathy; from apathy to dependence; from dependence back into bondage. I wonder where we are on the list?
     We will never forget 9/11. But our children and grandchildren don’t remember a time when we could just walk on an airplane without taking off our shoes. Two months after 9/11, protecting airports was taken over at the federal level.
     Now, taking off our shoes and banning liquids is just common acceptance and common practice. Naturally, it’s for our own safety, and I’m not advocating anything other than your consideration and introspection.
     My perspective is biblical. I believe what the Bible says. I don’t always know the “how,” but I do know the “what.” Jesus will come again at the end of the world. Please understand, I’m not suggesting that we are “at” the end of the world. But I now have a better understanding of how it “could” happen.
     In order for the United States to be grafted into a global system, there must be an authoritarian system of control. This control must include accountability (giving up all personal freedoms) and the control of the economy. The times, they are a changin’ and I’ve seen how this “could”, one day, happen. 
     As far as the church is concerned, the church is commanded, by Scripture (Rom 13), to comply to all governmental authorities—unless those authorities violate the commands in Scripture. This is not a time for anarchy or rebellion, but compliance. But, the table has been set.
     I’m aware that there are various attitudes that may emerge to this article—the obvious would be belief or unbelief, acceptance or rejection. There are also various responses. One could, perhaps, focus on self-preservation, buy up all the canned goods, disinfectant wipes, and toilet paper, and hunker down in a bunker somewhere off the grid.
     The better, and informed position, would be to choose to trust that God is sovereign and loving and that everything that will happen is divinely orchestrated by God’s hand and choose to trust Him, come what may. After all, it’s not the end of the world. At least, not yet.
 
Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.

     As I noted in my last article, we are living in an amazing time in history. In my opinion, what we’re experiencing now will leave an indelible mark upon our world, our nation, and our families. Some of the changes on the horizon will be good. Others will not. Last time, I talked about the resurgence of self-reliance and minimalism.
     In this article, I want to discuss our changing communication landscape. We tend to assume that communication is what it is and has always been this way. Some kids nowadays cannot imagine a world without a device. Here, hold my cell phone and travel back in time with me for a bit.
     In times past, most people could not read. They communicated by talking. In these “oral societies,” people talked more. They entertained each other with songs, poems, interesting stories, and humor. In these oral societies, people’s brains processed information differently. They had better memories.
     For example, in the Old Testament times, many of the Jews had memorized all five books of the law (called the Pentateuch). That’s basically the books of Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. I can’t even remember my wife’s phone number and am absolutely dependent upon my speed dial.
     I used to think there was something wrong with me because I had a bad memory. But then I realized, we all do. We are all products of our environment. While doing research on oral societies and communication theory, I realized that in an oral society people listened “better” and they remembered better. Their brains were wired to do so.
     With the introduction of written language, and symbolic convergence, came the ability to immortalize and verify communication. But, because reading and writing were considered a luxury, they were exclusively utilized by the ruling class who had power and wealth. In addition, scrolls were very expensive, and documents had to be copied by hand (monks didn’t just pray all the time you know).
     The Gutenberg printing press changed everything. Documents could be mass produced and shared with a larger audience. Written material could be widely disseminated. All kinds of information could be mass produced. This changed everything. One of the results of the printing press was the Protestant Reformation as the common people were able to read the Scriptures for themselves.
     But all of this information was big and bulky and had to be carried by mouth or by hand. Not only was it bulky, but it was slow. For example, in 1760, it took six weeks for news of King George II’s death to reach the colonists in America. Some advances were made by the Pony Express and eventually, the train, but it was still too slow.
     The telegraph, introduced in the mid-1800s, gave birth to the electronic age. Samuel Morse’s first message sent was, “What has God wrought?” The bigger question was, perhaps, what would this mean? This shift changed everything. Information could now be sent over a wire and opened up the door for immediate information to travel coast to coast. But the problem was the wire. 
Nobody likes to be tied to a wire.
     Wireless technology led to the invention of mass communication technology like radio and television. Not only was communication instant, but it was also primarily a visual medium. Reading was one thing. Seeing it was quite another. Communication research has constantly shown that we believe what we see over what we hear as nonverbal communication is about 70% of our communication. But, radio and TV demanded a venue. Who has time to sit in front of the radio and wait for the Lone Ranger to come on?
     The digital age was born. This was the age of the computer and computer-based technology which led to personal computers, phones, and tablets. Connected to this technology was the ability, not only to view things, “live and in color,” we could also record audio and visual images in a digital environment, share them forever in cyberspace, and listen on demand.
    With every age, communication methods changed--and those methods changed everything. So, what does that have to do with us and COVID-19?
     Well, one of the things that this time period has taught us is that we desperately need one another. Or, at least we need a segment of the population. At this time, our communication has gone from being “wide” to a little “deeper.” We have become aware of what is most important—our family and friends. We’ve also learned that we need to be cognizant of various methods of communication. Zoom was not a part of my vocabulary until recently.
     I’m not a prophet or the son of a prophet, but I sense that communication and delivery systems will change the way we do just about everything. Let me mention four:
     First, I believe, that in the days ahead, we’ll realize how valuable face-to-face communication is, but we’ll be on the lookout for alternate ways to communicate. We don’t want to be caught off guard, again. Maybe they’ll invent smell-o-vision and virtual environments where you can digitally reach out and touch someone (the technology is already here). In other words, we will spend more F2F time with the people we love and look for alternate means of connecting with other people and entities on a deeper level.
     Second, we will question our need to go “out” more than we have to—especially in flu season. Recently, my family has done some shopping online and had groceries delivered to our home. My wife, who has always been reluctant to allow strangers to pick out our tomatoes, has seen the value. She orders, uses an app to follow the person who is shopping for us (and knows exactly how long that milk has been sitting in the cart), and texts back and forth with our shopper.
     Why go to the store when the store will come to you? And while we’re on that, does that store need to be down the street or could it be a warehouse in a centralized location? Amazon saw this shift many years ago. Now if we can just get those drones to work.
     Third, larger businesses that have been forced to close their doors and have employees work from home will fervently look for ways to minimize brick and mortar costs and conduct business in a virtual environment. They have learned how fragile our economy is and how a virus can change everything. They are making plans now to ensure their survival and that survival may not be in a building.
     Finally, although it may not be immediate, our educational landscape will change. I see two major changes. First, educational facilities, who in my estimation reacted brilliantly to the need to conduct education in an online environment, will be proactive about the future of online education. Because of governmental oversight and funding, this shift will involve measures of control, but it will happen—eventually.
     In addition, parents will change. During this epidemic, many parents discovered that they appreciated the opportunity to better guide the education of their child and worked in cooperation with their local child’s teacher in a digital environment. True, some parents simply cannot wait until their kids go back to school. They need to get back to work and just need their kids to be in a structured learning environment. However, some parents have seen the value of personally guiding their child’s educational destiny.
     I believe there will be a slow shift to more parents who homeschool and those who choose a virtual education hybrid. These parents are beginning to think about some important issues and have noticed some inequities in education. For example, some parents from different cities and regions have talked on social media about the educational expectations for their child. Some kids have structured learning while some kids were told to read several books.
     Some parents, not wanting their child to fall behind, have chosen to supplement their child’s education. They are now asking some deep questions. They recognize that, simply put, a child’s education is a relationship that is dependent upon the parent, the child, the educational facility, and the local teacher (and, of course, governmental standards and oversight). Some parents want more control and don’t want to limited to a particular brick and mortar building.
     In the digital future, it could be, that, for some students, education will not be tied to a city or zone. They will cut the wire. They will not go to school. School will come to them. The focus will be upon completing required educational objectives, but also specialization. Maybe you’ve noticed, in recent years, that parents are “into” early and targeted learning. Naturally, they want their children to “succeed” and they’re watching education programs and having their children play learning games on their devices.
     On the horizon, it could be, that parents will integrate home learning with some sort of digital educational facility that is designed to empower their child’s individual needs and learning styles to produce a targeted product. Why sit in a classroom when you can gain individualized learning in a synchronous (live) or asynchronous (Memorex) learning environment? The goal is not education, but assimilation into the workforce.
     To illustrate, if your fifth grader wants to be an architect, we’ve got a learning track for that. We teach you the required stuff and also integrate targeted learning from professionals in the field. This learning will not be by location, but tied to financial means.
     Naturally, all of this is speculation and off in the distance. And, of course, it will be dependent upon the health of our economy and governmental oversight and control. While I’m on that topic, next week I’ll finish up my thoughts on this time in history by talking about Big Brother, religion, and the Mark of the Beast.
 
Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.
 

     I can’t help it. I rip up boxes into little pieces before throwing them into the trash. It's in my blood, I guess. As a little boy, I watched my grandfather do this. He never told me why, but I think it was because he liked to get the biggest bang for his buck using a garbage bag. At least that’s why I do it.
     My grandfather, who came to this country from Italy, lived through the Great Depression. An experience like that changes a person. I remember he would even save his leftover coffee so he could microwave it and enjoy it later. I’m not there yet.
     People who lived through that dark time in history were deeply affected. Recently, I was talking to a friend who said, “my grandma was such a packrat. She never threw anything away. She lived through the Great Depression, you know.” The Great Depression affected our nation for many years. Many people struggled as the unemployment rate in 1933 was twenty-three percent.
     You’ve probably had conversations with those who were affected by those times. For the most part, those who remember those times would say, “we didn’t know we were poor. We were just like everybody else.” And yet, the events of that time deeply changed the attitudes and behaviors of those involved.
     I can’t claim to be a Bob Dylan fan. I was born too late for that. But, I do remember hearing his mid-60s song, “The Times They are A-Changin.” The phrase would make a nice refrigerator magnet to describe where we are right now.
     We are living in an amazing time in history. In my opinion, what we’re experiencing now will leave an indelible mark upon our world, our nation, and our families. Some of the changes on the horizon will be good. Others, not so much. I believe it will go down in history as one of those “defining moments” of our culture.
     I’m not a prophet or philosopher, but as a pastor and professor, I have had the chance, like you, to evaluate human behavior and form an opinion. Throwing a wider net, I’ve also asked friends on social media sites to offer their opinion on how they believe these “times” will change us.
     Originally, I thought I would be able to squeeze the information into one article, but the box was too big and, taking a lesson from Papa, I’ll have to tear it into several parts.
     I believe one of the ways we will be affected is the resurgence of self-reliance and minimalism. This will be a good thing (at least for the family).
     Facing empty store shelves was a real eye-opener for many people. “I can’t believe there’s no toilet paper” we heard people complain. A relatively “minor issue” (relatively speaking) caused major panic at the time.
     The problem was, people who complained about the selfishness of others, rushed to the stores themselves and left with carts full of toilet paper uttering the manta, “the one with the most toilet paper wins.” This was nothing less than fear and panic.
     This panic unearthed a deeper issue. The issue at hand is that we are not products of the Great Depression. Just the opposite, we are products of times of plenty and abundance. Most of us have enjoyed wonderful prosperity in this country. It’s all we have known. We’ve always lived in a time when if you needed it you could get it.
     I’ve had the wonderful privilege of visiting some very poor places in the world. Probably the worst was Haiti. Most of the people in Haiti have no electricity, no running water, and no modern conveniences. They walk everywhere they go, often without shoes. They spend most of their day just trying to survive. As Maslow’s hierarchy of needs suggests, they can’t move up the ladder of success because they’re too busy just trying to stay alive. They don’t know any different.
     Most of us simply can’t process that. We’ve been blessed in this country—we just didn’t know it. Here in the States, what we have experienced is, if you had the money--you could get it. Hit the easy button. But, in the midst of this crisis, that has not been the case. Even Amazon was not delivering toilet paper. That concept is difficult for us to process.
     These experiences have taught us what it means to struggle—at least a little. This has caused us to do some deep, introspective thinking about what is really important and has caused us to appreciate the simple things maybe that we took for granted.
     “I’m looking forward to just going out to eat a meal,” my wife said the other day. I agreed. Generally, on Sunday afternoon, after a busy day at church, my wife and I would go out to eat. It was a wonderful, relaxing time. I think when things get back to “normal” we will appreciate these times so much more.
     Some of the items that have been missing from store shelves were basic foods and staples. I don’t think this was a result of panic, but a result of necessity. According to an article in Business Insider, before this challenging time, Americans ate out about six times a week. In Missouri, that adds up to about $2500 per year. I think one of the reasons the shelves were so empty is because people began eating at home—again.  Some families are learning what it means to cook and eat at home.
     Not too long ago, we had some friends surprise us with some farm fresh eggs and home-canned veggies. It was such a sweet and thoughtful gesture! It also made me think “hmmm…maybe I should think about that a little more seriously.” But then again, I didn’t even know how to grow toilet paper.
     I’ll definitely pay more attention to my garden this year. In recent years, we just gardened for fun and complained about the squirrels taking one bite out of every tomato. I just loved seeing them grow, and honestly, squirrels have to eat too. But, in the future, we might take it a little more seriously. We might even have squirrel soup (with a tomato base, of course).
     I have sat back in amazement and watched friends and neighbors practice resiliency, self-reliance, and minimalism. I’ve been so encouraged by folks who have been innovative and discovered different ways to survive and thrive during this challenging time. Families are eating together, playing games together, and getting to know one another. Parents are taking responsibility for their child’s education. People are stepping out of their comfort zone and taking responsibility for things that, in times past, we paid others to do.
     We’re also becoming more frugal and saving for a rainy day. One friend said, “I’m evaluating everything that I have and determining what I really need. It’s been eye-opening.” Another friend said, “One thing I’ve learned is that I will always have a month of toilet paper on hand.”
     The times, they are a-changin’. They always have and they always will. There is no such thing as a “new normal”. Normal is simply a product of an ever-changing environment. The great hockey player, Wayne Gretzky, had the uncanny ability, as he said, not to skate to where the puck was—but to where the puck is going.
 
     Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.
 

​     It was a busy day. I rushed in the front door to quickly change clothes and head back out to another meeting. I heard the sound of the hairdryer coming from the bathroom. My daughter, home from school already, was holding the cat and said proudly, “I got the cat dry.”
     I was a little perplexed. “How did the cat get wet?” I asked. “You don’t know?” came back the reply. “Know what?” I said. She directed me to the basement door.
     Our home, at that time, was a little small for our six-member family. It’s redeeming quality was a sizable finished basement with additional restroom.
     It was like another home downstairs. Part of it served as a perfect space for our two boys while the girls stayed upstairs. I loved it too because we were able to line one of the rooms with bookshelves which was perfect for all my books.
     Clutching the cat, my daughter opened the basement door and awaited my reaction. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. It had been raining extremely hard all day. Our home was located on a corner where two streets met. The phrase, “it’s all downhill from here” would have described our home at the time.
     That day, there was a great deal of rain and unfortunately, it all headed in our direction. There was too much water, too fast and no way for our sump pump to handle it. In one day, our basement had become a sizable swimming pool. In our family, we refer to that time as “the great flood.”
     In horror, and almost in a dreamlike state, I pulled off my dress shoes, put on some old sneakers, and ran down the stairs to access the damage. Halfway down, I felt the cold water surround my ankles.
     As I continued, the water came up to my thighs and eventually just below my chest. I wondered how many steps were left and if I needed to get my floaties. After reaching the floor, the water in our basement was about four-feet high.
     As I waded through the water, I had no idea what was below the surface. The water was dark, murky, and mysterious. I felt like I was in the ocean. The theme music from Jaws would have been appropriate.
     Although I couldn’t see in the water, I was cognizant of what was around me. There were bits and pieces of all sorts of debris floating in the water—including tiny particles. I was bewildered as to what these particles were and then it finally dawned on me!
     It was a mixture of cat litter and cat food. Days before, we had bragged about being such frugal shoppers and the great deal we had gotten on the ‘big bags’. “Why did we have to buy the giant bags,” I wondered?
     Then, I witnessed a small miracle, for which I am thankful. The plastic cat box, driven by unknown undercurrents, came floating by. It was well-used, but thankfully, it was above the water. At least one catastrophe avoided (emphasis on the cat in catastrophe).
     I wondered what other mysterious messes laid below the abyss. For a brief moment, I remembered the bathroom in the corner of the basement. No doubt, the toilet, like most everything else, was below the water.
     I hoped my sons had remembered to flush the last time they used it. I quickly removed the thought from my mind. Now was not the time for speculation, and I did not own a decontamination suit.
     The basement looked somewhat familiar—at least from the waterline up. In the first room, were the particleboard bookshelves that housed my college, seminary, and other personal books, along with my wife’s cookbooks and other personal items.
     There were five bookshelves. Three of them had buckled and toppled because of the water and weight of the books. The other two remained at their post victoriously displaying several rows of books that were saved from the flood. The kid’s beta fish was also on the shelf. The little guy had missed his chance at freedom by a foot or so.
     In the next two rooms, I examined my sons’ living quarters and play area. Beds, toys, chest of drawers, guitars, saxophone, handheld portable devices, gaming systems, and more were all underwater.
     There was also the antique chest of drawers handed down to me from my grandparents who came to this country from Italy. The last room was a storage area, of sorts. In this room I kept some of my “extra” books and Bible commentary sets that would not fit on the shelf.
      I left them packed in the boxes for safe keeping and even put a dehumidifier to keep the moisture out. Dehumidifiers are not rated for floods. Always read the fine print.
     When it came time for the cleanup, thankfully, we had several friends who came to our aid. They offered some great advice and help. This was quite the process. Because everything was soaked, normally heavy books became extremely heavy to say nothing of the stench.
     The immediate goal was to get it all outside and pile it in an area in the corner of the lot. A friend’s trailer, which would serve as a dumpster, would be coming soon.
     During the cleanup time, both my wife and I checked out emotionally, a coping mechanism. We had to push down the intense pain in order to deal with the immediate problem. We each had our job. I worked in cleanup. She worked in restoration.
     She had rescued the clothes from downstairs and the plan was for her to go to the laundromat while I pitched our belongings into the dumpster. She couldn’t handle the sight of throwing our possessions in the trash.
     I’m not allowed to do laundry because of my failed attempt to wash her cashmere sweater early in our marriage. So, we each had our duty to do. Now was not the time to mourn. That would come later.
     As I stood before the huge, mangled pile of my past, I held a little, reddish, brown book in my hand. Hebrew grammar was one of the most-difficult classes for me in seminary. I spent hours studying every night.
     To the chagrin of my wife, I had 3x5 cards of Hebrew vocabulary and conjugated verbs taped all over the walls in my study room. My professor was Dr. Waylon Bailey and we used his textbook in class. I remember spending hours in that grammar book underlining, circling, highlighting, and adding notes.
     As I held the waterlogged book in my hand, the memories came in like a flood. Unfortunately, the book could not be saved. Naturally, I could buy the book again, but I would never have the same attachment or notes.
     There was nothing that could be done. I looked at the cover, flipped through a couple of pages, and with a heave threw it in the dumpster. I had dozens of books and the same number of untold stories.
     The books were a personal loss to me, but not the biggest loss. The wound that cut the deepest was the pictures of our family and personal documents. My wife and I lost many of our wedding photos and pictures of our children growing up. These pictures were taken before the digital age and could not be replaced.
     We also lost videos we had taken of the kids, awards, and other memorabilia that we had kept from their growing up years. To say that this was an extremely difficult time in our life would be an understatement.
     The great flood taught me several lessons. Interestingly, I can now see some of the beauty that grew up out of the ashes of despair.
     First, it reminded me that I cannot do life alone. During that time, I was overwhelmed, but caring friends came to our aid offering their wisdom, time, and resources to assist. I will never forget their kindness. I could not have done it without them.
     The second thing that I learned was, although our waterlogged and ruined material possessions ended up in a landfill somewhere, I still have the memories. No one can remove them from my mind. The great flood is one of those landmark events in our family that we talk about from time to time and actually brought us closer.
And finally, I am reminded that things could always be worse. I am very grateful for the marvelous blessings of God. I also realize that there are many people who have suffered tremendous hardship and heartache. My story would be minuscule in comparison to theirs.
     So, things could always be worse. Sometimes, it’s the little, gentle reminders of that fact. On that fateful day, when I first looked upon that dreadful scene to see the destruction and mess, I was thankful that the dirty cat box came floating by.
     Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.
 

​     For many years, AT&T was a household name. They were responsible for building most of the telephone networks that we use and were the largest corporation in the world. For more than a decade, they used the slogan, “reach out and touch someone.” Naturally, since they were a telecommunication company, they suggested that they do this using the telephone.
     We have all been affected by these days of social distancing. To be honest, I was practicing social distancing before it was a thing. I’ve always liked my space. But, although I identify as an introvert, I find myself missing social contact. I miss hanging out with friends and seeing fellow church members. No matter your personality type, we’re all wired that way. We need to connect to other people.
 
     One of my favorite Bible stories is the story of Jesus and a leper:
And a leper came to him, imploring him, and kneeling said to him,
 
“If you will, you can make me clean.” Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand and touched him and said to him, “I will; be clean.” And immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean (Mark 1:40-42).
 
     Leprosy, also known as “Hansen’s disease”, is a painful and debilitating disease. Leprosy is an infection caused by bacteria. The disease discolors the skin, attacks nerve endings, and can affect the eyes and nose, and loss of hair.
     In days of old, it was believed that leprosy would cause a person’s fingers and toes to rot off. In reality, the disease affected nerve endings which removed the suffers ability to feel pain. Thus, those with leprosy were known to step on sharp objects or even burning coals and not feel any pain.  This caused infection and eventually tissue loss which affected the extremities.
     Your chances of getting leprosy are pretty low. According to the CDC, about 150 people in the United States contract leprosy annually. Thankfully, the disease is preventable and treatable. One way not to get leprosy is not to eat armadillos. They are the only known animal, other than humans, known to carry the disease. Many cases in the U.S. are in the south where people actually eat the critters (on the half shell, I imagine).
     During biblical times, leprosy was clearly an issue. There were many lepers mentioned in the Bible. Those who suffered from the disease were considered to be socially and religiously unclean. In that culture, they also considered the disease to be a curse from God. There are two whole chapters dedicated to leprosy in the Old Testament. Here is a portion.
As for the leper who has the infection, his clothes shall be torn, and the hair of his head shall be uncovered, and he shall cover his mustache and cry, 'Unclean! Unclean!' "He shall remain unclean all the days during which he has the infection; he is unclean. He shall live alone; his dwelling shall be outside the camp (Lev 13:45-46).
     Talk about social distancing! Not only were they to live away from everyone else, but social interaction was forbidden. Adding insult to injury, they were to cry aloud to let other passersby know they were in the vicinity.
     My favorite part about the story of Jesus and the leper is not that Jesus healed him, but how he healed him. There are two beautiful parts to the story.
     First, the leper recognized that Jesus had the ability to heal him. He must have seen Jesus in action and believed. In his mind, there was no doubt as to Jesus’s ability. What the leper wanted to know was, would He? The leper said, “If you will [or if you’re willing], you can make me clean.” Jesus lovingly answered, “I will [or I am willing”] be clean.
     God did not see the leper as socially or religiously unclean. He looked past his exterior. He saw him not for what he was, but what he could become. Such is the heart of God.
     The second beautiful part to this story was how Jesus healed him. Throughout the gospels, Jesus healed people in many different ways. He healed some people with just a word. He healed one blind man by spitting on the ground, making mud, and placing it on the guy’s eyes. Some people, Jesus healed from a distance. Others, Jesus healed up close.
     What’s amazing in this story is that Jesus “stretched out his hand and touched him.” He obviously didn’t have to touch him. He chose to touch him. 
     We are not told how long this guy had leprosy, but however long it was, he was ostracized by society. He was a loner. Jesus, the Son of God, reached out and touched this social outcast who had not been touched in a very long time.
     I have seen several positive things happening during this challenging time. I’ve seen people reaching out to God and praying more. I’ve seen people interested in spiritual things.
In addition, I’ve seen families getting back to basics. They’re playing games, making crafts, and just having fun. That’s a really positive thing!
     Finally, I’ve also seen people reaching out and connecting in various, new ways. Out of necessity, people are going to church online and connecting with small groups through mediated technologies. These are really good things.
     Like you, in these days of mandatory social distancing, I find myself adjusting to a “new normal.” Like most churches, for the last several weeks, as a pastor, I have shared messages with our church family through Facebook live and our YouTube channel. When I’m delivering these messages, I am standing before an empty church building—or at least no more than 9 people—six feet apart.
     I’ve been asked, “isn’t that weird?” I generally respond by saying, “not really.” And then I explain, “when I’m speaking to the empty room, I visualize regular attenders who would be sitting in their particular seats. I see their faces and remember their stories.” But, on the other hand, there is an emptiness that I feel. I miss the human connection. I miss the opportunity physically reach out and touch someone.
     For now, the best we can do is look for alternate methods to connect to one another. So, pick up the phone and encourage someone. Send an old-fashioned letter or send a text. Look for creative ways to connect with others—especially those who live alone. Today is a good day to reach out and touch someone—just make sure there’s at least six foot of distance between you.
     This challenging time is a good reminder that we were built to connect with God and to connect to one another.
 
Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.

​     In the last couple of weeks our nation, our city, and our families have changed drastically. Before now, most of us never used the term coronavirus or COVID-19. But now, those terms have taken center stage. 
     We have all been affected personally in one way or another.
    According to an article in the New York Times, if not contained, COVID-19 could infect between 160-214 million people and cause a death toll of between 200,000-1.7 million. The main word is “if”. We’re all doing our best to keep ourselves—and others safe. “My daughter is mad at me,” a friend said, “I won’t let her to go a friend’s house and she’s pouting.”
     In some ways, we’re all pouting. We have all been forced to alter our schedules and way of living. It’s a “new normal” at least for the time being.
     Human behavior is odd, at times. Sometimes, it’s just downright unbelievable. We’re facing a pandemic and panicking people are purchasing piles of toilet paper! Throughout our region, people have been hoarding toilet paper and other supplies. Social scientists say that hoarding is a mechanism of self-preservation and control.
     It got so bad that, for a while, store shelves were bare and angry people were acting irrationally. This led to many stores enforcing a two-pack limit.
     One of the strangest stories I heard was about the Newport Police Department in Oregon who had to put out the following statement: “It’s hard to believe that we even have to post this. Do not call 9-1-1 just because you ran out of toilet paper.”
     We need to get to the bottom of this. Toilet paper is a luxury. According to several sources, about four billion people of the world’s almost eight billion people don't use toilet paper. Shocking right? Some sites say that number is about 70-percent. That’s hard for most of us to believe. “Why is that?” we wonder. Some civilizations just don’t have the trees. Some can’t afford it. And some just don’t see the need. It seems that most of the world just uses…wait for it….water.
     In ancient times, wanting wipers, used shells, stones, snow, moss, hay, leaves, grass, corncobs, sheep's wool, sponges, and eventually, newspapers, magazines, and pages of books.
     The first commercially available toilet paper did not hit the shelves in the U.S. until 1857. At that time, it wasn’t well received. For some odd reason, the inventor decided to print his name on every sheet (talk about a bad marketing idea). At that time, the general public saw no reason to pay for toilet paper. They were just as happy using the free Sears, Roebuck, & CO.  magazine.
    But the issue was on a roll and in the late 1800s two brothers popularized paper on a roll. But, still, our nation was not ready to squeeze the Charmin. It seems that Americans were too modest and embarrassed to buy the product. I guess they didn’t want anyone else to know that they used the stuff. In fact, the two brothers did not even want to take credit for their invention until years later.
     But as you know, in the end, toilet paper caught on. The main reason was indoor plumbing. People were now experiencing the luxury of going indoors and using a plumbing system.  
     Unfortunately, the Sears magazine paper was too hard to flush and would clog up the system. Since necessity is the mother of invention, toilet paper caught on.
     Currently, the U.S. spends more than $6 billion a year on toilet tissue (maybe because we eat more than any other nation?). We also use it for all sorts of stuff like blowing our nose, cleaning up small spills, removing makeup, covering toilet seats, killing spiders, drying up the blood from nicked shaving, packaging material, cleaning mirrors, TP’ing homes, and a whole lot more.
     By a whole lot more, I mean, on average, Americans use about 57 squares a day. The average number of sheets a person uses is 8.6 sheets per trip to the bathroom. That means, most people use about 20,000 sheets of toilet paper per year (or about 100 rolls).
     Studies show that most people are not satisfied with what comes off the roll. Women like to wad up the paper before use and men prefer to fold it. The remaining like to use the “wrap method.”
     There is no argument of the “over” or “under” method off the roll. It’s a façade.  According to the 1891 patent for the toilet paper, it states specifically that the end of the roll should be hanging off the top (which is why they put the decorative side out). Please don’t send me any angry emails. Over the top is historical.
     So, why is toilet paper flying off the shelves? Fear. Researchers say, it would take a household of 15 to work through a 30-pack of two-ply over a two-week timeframe. For a couple, one pack should last for nearly four months.
     There is no shortage of toilet tissues. In the Los Angeles Times, Professor Willy Shih said, “It’s not like suddenly all the toilet paper factories in the world are burning down. They’re still cranking this stuff out.” Shih says that the issue is that toilet paper production has been too steady—supply and demand has been a normal routine for many years.
     If anything, toilet paper supplies are suffering from being too steady, Shih says, “there is no hot season for toilet paper.” That means that TP factories run on a schedule and are designed to run as efficiently as possible around the clock to produce the amount of paper that we need. A run on toilet paper just created a sense of scarcity. Again, fear.
     Thankfully, although most of the stuff we buy comes from outside our borders, when it comes to TP, it’s born and bred in America. Imported toilet paper only makes up about 9% of the total U.S. supply.
     So, in the end, we can’t let fear get the best of us. We need to be cautious and use wisdom. We also need to adjust to a new normal. But we’ll get through this. And, just maybe we’ll be better friends and neighbors. This is a time for caring for and sharing with one another. We’ll all get through this together. We’re kind of like two-ply. We’re just better together.
 
Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer.