Is Anyone Listening?

Has anyone else noticed that there is a lot going on in our country, as well as in the world today? (I know, I know, “Just a slight understatement there, Robert!”) There is the economic crisis, the political turmoil, the threats of terrorism, and on and on it goes. There is so much yet to be resolved. And it seems at times, there is so little progress towards resolution.

I find myself very challenged by all of this. The challenge for me is how to stay informed (as a good citizen should be) without becoming overwhelmed by all of it. And the even bigger challenge for me is how to sort through all the noise that people are making on all sides of the issues, so I can find what I believe to be the paths that we should take to try to solve our problems, and then find a way to support those directions.

So I just wanted to share an observation. In watching opposing sides on issues “discuss” their viewpoints, I am struck by how little listening is going on. All too often, they seem to spend all of their time talking over each other, in ever increasing volume levels, with ever increasing anger, until no one can pick out much of anything from what is being said.

We all have been guilty of not listening. I’m reminded of how many times each day that instead of really listening to what someone is saying, I am thinking about what I am going to say next. As a result, I set myself up to miss out on so much by not focusing on what is being said by others.

One thing that I discovered when I was growing up came out of the fact that I was shy and not willing to speak out much in my classes in school. I would sit and listen to all that was being said in discussions about a particular topic. Time and again I would realize something that others were missing simply because they were so focussed on what they were saying, that they forgot to listen to each other. All I did was piece together parts of what was being said and then muster up the courage to speak. As a result, I would look a whole lot more intelligent than I really was.

So this is what I want to share with you. As I have been listening to those debating their opposing viewpoints, I have been reminded again and again where the Bible gives us the following simple instruction that I think would benefit us all:

"So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath; for the wrath of man does not produce the righteousness of God." James 1:19-20 (NKJ)

My wish for each of you this day is that you might have a day full of listening and peace.

My Love For You, My Precious Wife

A soft, warm thought of you caresses my mind and brings a quiet smile to my heart. A swell of deep felt emotion builds until it overwhelms me as I long to be near you and hold you in my arms. How I want you to know my love for you!

My love for you is relentless! My love for you is forever unconditional! My love for you has no end! I willingly give you my life!

How I long to sustain you in my love! How I long to protect you in my love! How I wish you could know my love in all its fullness, and rest there, secure, at peace, in my love, for all of your days.

Come away with me, my love, to that place where our two loves meet as one. Where nothing can stand against us! Where joy overflows! Where sweet victory is ours!

Come away with me, my love, to that wondrous place of knowing without speaking. And remain there, with me, forever.


by Robert A. McArthur

A Tale of Two Teachers (part 2)

Of all of the teachers that I have had over the years, there are only a handful that I remember and even those I don’t remember very well. Some I remember fondly, others I could stand to forget. Mostly, I remember the phrases that they would repeat over and over again. “Use your time wisely,” one teacher would say in a nasally tone, at an elevated volume to speak over the noise of a class that was obviously not doing so. Or, “I’m a busy man!” from a hyperactive little man who was very caught up in his own importance and who wore his pants too high for his 97 pound frame. When this same man would vigorously erase the chalk board with his right hand, his left hand would work the air just as hard.

Others I remember for a particular moment in time, like the time our school was experiencing some pretty serious racial tensions and the school had gone on “lock down”.

“Mr. Jones, to the office, please. MISTER JONES!”

That was the signal for teachers to lock the doors and keep all of their students in the classrooms. It was supposed to keep the students from panicking, but everyone knew their was no “Mr. Jones.” So, naturally, everyone ran to the windows to get a look at what was going on. The teacher tried in vain to get us away from the windows and regain control of her classroom. She even suggested that we sing a song together. And so she started with the only song that came to her mind, “Happy Birthday.” No one joined in. I just looked at her in disbelief. As I recall, she was the only one panicked by what was happening. Everyone else just seemed curious. I wish now that I had tried to offer her some comfort.

But this is supposed to be a tale of two teachers, so please excuse the little side journey. The second teacher I wanted to tell you about was my English teacher in my senior year of high school. Whenever I think about the teachers that I have had, she is usually the first one to come to mind. I owe her a great debt of gratitude.

I don’t even remember much about her, but these things I do remember. She was kind. She smiled. She acted like she liked her students. She came off as a little out of touch with the present day, but in a wholesome sort of way. Most of all, I remember her as an encourager, to all of her students.

It was a time in my life that I was trying to build up my self-confidence. And she was trying to help me to find my gifts and reach my potential. It was something a slightly under performing student like myself really needed.

I remember a particular project that she had us do. My subject had something to do with different forms of poetry. We were to present our projects in front of the class, but also in front of a video camera. I was very nervous and can only imagine that it showed. I was reading some of the examples that I had written to illustrate my points. As I was finishing up, she gently interrupted me and encouraged me to share a few more of the examples I had written.

When the taping was done and the camera was off she commented on my work. She didn’t tell me I slouched or that I needed to take my hands out of my pockets. She didn’t tell me I needed to speak louder. She didn’t mention that I was shaking like a leaf or that I stumbled all over myself or that there was no flow to my presentation.

Instead, she smiled as she commented on how well she liked my examples. Then she said, “You command such a presence when you are up there.” I’m not sure I understood what she meant at the time, but I do know it felt good. It felt good because I knew that she saw beyond the obvious and saw the possibilities.

That is how I believe God sees us. And maybe--just maybe--because He can see beyond the obvious, it makes us a little more lovable.

Maybe if we could see others as God sees them, we might find them a little more lovable, too.

A Tale of Two Teachers (part 1)

She was a bitter, tired, frustrated, mean-spirited old woman who had long since lost any love of teaching that she had ever had, and was left hanging on to the only thing she knew to do to sustain herself, until she could finally, mercifully, retire. Looking back, I wonder what horrible life experiences she had that brought her to that place, back in the early 1970’s. What was her heartbreaking story? What could have hurt her so badly that this was the best she had to offer? But back then, I could have cared less. When I wasn’t busy fearing her or avoiding her, I just despised her.

She taught Algebra in the high school I attended. It was well known that she was the one algebra teacher that no one wanted to get. So when I got my schedule that year, I knew that I was in trouble. I was a decent student (though a little under-performing) and usually made A’s and B’s. I wasn’t used to failing. She was, in her own twisted way, determined to make sure that I didn’t fail, and thus sealed my fate. I failed her class miserably.

I have never had a person humiliate me in front of my peers like she did. She seemed to delight in having the ones of us who weren’t “getting it” work problems in front of the class on the chalk board. If we didn’t understand how to work the equation, she would leave us standing there, relentlessly chiding us for not seeing the obvious solution, until the bell finally rang and she would be forced to set us free. I already had very low self-confidence, and as skinny, overly tall, awkward teenager, I just froze it those situations, unable to focus on solving the problem for feeling ashamed and embarrassed by being singled out and put on display.

There were many other things that she did to make sure I felt like a total idiot, but I think that you can get the idea without me going into further detail. As a result of that experience, I found myself avoiding anything that had to do with math. I took the easiest math courses that I could get away with in college. I already knew that algebra was out of the question. I wasn’t going to set myself up to fail, and she had thoroughly convinced me that I would.

Many years later, I decided to pursue some additional schooling at the community college where I live. I was told I would have to take algebra. I started the class with a great deal of anxiety, but soon discovered that I understood the material and actually found it fairly easy. I passed with an “A”.

Here’s my thought in looking back at all this. A lot of who we are is determined by how we deal with what life brings us. We have all heard great stories of how a person has overcome terrible experiences and done great things in spite of them. Wouldn’t it be great if it always worked that way for everyone? It is here where I see the mercy of God at work.

My real concern is for the people who don’t take responsibility for how they treat others, not realizing--or maybe not caring--that in their words and actions is the power create or destroy. Even more frightening is when a person knows that they are cruel, and feels that because they are older, or because of some position of authority they have, they have a right to be that way and don’t have to take responsibility for it. No, we should always hold ourselves accountable for what we say and how we act.

Most of us would never set out to drive a knife into someone’s heart, but to many of us do so by our words alone. The Bible tells us,

“Death and life are in the power of the tongue . . .” Proverbs 18:21a (NKJ)

You Are My Song

You are my hope, when hope is nearly gone.
You are my strength, when I’m no longer strong.
You are my joy and my peace.
Lord, You’re every little thing
That I might need
To make it through
Just one more day.

You are the love,
My heart is aching for.
You are my friend,
When friends are friends no more.
You know my every need,
Lord, You look after me
Like no one else,
Has ever done,
Will ever do.
Your love is true.

And just to know the love You have for me
Is deeper than the sea,
And that You hold me in the palm
Of Your own hand.
To think that You the God of all there is,
And all that there will be,
Would choose to die,
For such a wretched mess as me.

You are my hope, when hope is nearly gone.
You are my strength, when I’m no longer strong.
You are my joy and my peace.
Lord, You’re every little thing
That I might need
To make it through
Just one more day.
You are the way.

And now I know that it is You that lives
And moves inside of me.
And that Your Spirit’s here to guide me
On my way.
A symphony of sights and sounds surround
And fill my heart with love,
With songs of love
Sent from above
For each new day.

You are the Word, given unto me.
You are the Truth, You came to set me free.
You are my Lord and my King.
I need the grace that you bring
Into my life,
Into my heart,
Into my soul.
You are my all!

The melody
That lives in me
You are my Song!


(song lyrics by Robert A. McArthur)

Blazin' a Trail for Greater Things to Come

All this looking back that I’ve been doing lately has got me to thinking about how much of my life has been spent blazin’ a trail for those coming behind me. So, since you asked, let me share with you a few examples to illustrate my point. These examples relate to my younger brother and my two sons. After all, they are the ones that followed after me.

In junior high school, I took on a paper route. (This was back in the olden days when boys delivered papers in the afternoons after school.) The route was in some disarray when I took it over, but I managed to get it straightened out and was able to “grow” the route to the point that it had to be divided because it was getting too large. During that time I was honored by being selected, Paperboy of the Month. I even got my picture in the paper along with a nice write up about me.

Later, when I decided to go onto other things, my younger brother, John took over the route. He was also selected as Paperboy of the Month, but additionally was selected as Paperboy of the Year, clearly taking advantage of the trail that I had blazed for him and having learned everything that he knew from me.

Later, in high school, I decided to try out for the high school musical, “Lil’ Abner.” It was a big move for me as I was a very shy and awkward teenager. But I was determined to push past those insecurities and as a result, I landed a part. And it wasn’t just any part, it was a speaking part--okay, just one line. But I did get to do a song and dance routine with three other kids--and my dance partner was none other than the Homecoming Queen!

Following my example, my brother auditioned for and won the lead role in the high school production of, “Carousel,” and as a result, became famous, and the rest is history. Would this … could this have possibly happened had I not been there first, laying the foundation?! I think not!

And so the pattern continues with my sons Chris and Mike. As you may have already read in my last post, one of the first businesses my brother and I had was a marginally successful Kool-aid stand.

Now while Chris and Mike’s first business venture was not quite as successful …something about trying to sell drawings that they had done door-to-door … they did hit pay dirt when they built Black & Brew Coffee House and Bistro from the ground up. And where do you think they gained their insight and business savvy from? One can only assume the obvious.

I would like to say my “trail blazin’” has always been positive, but that simply is not the case. After all I did shoot my brother, John, with a bow and arrow, (see my post: The Deadly Weapon). And unfortunately, following my lead, Mike shot Chris with a bow and arrow. For the full story on that episode--at least from the victim’s perspective--click the following link:

http://thoughtcombustion.blogspot.com/2008/08/deadly-weapon-full-circle.html

But setting that misfortune aside, here’s my point. Don’t ever think that what you are doing is small or insignificant, you may only be blazin’ a trail for greater things to come. At least, that’s how it looks from here!

More Than a Cheerleader

I’ve been thinking lately about what a wonderful thing it is to have someone believe in you--believe in your talents and abilities, your dreams, your potential. Many a mother and dad has said something like, “Son, you can be anything that you want to be.” But not all parents go much beyond cheering their child on with,

“You can do it, Yes you can, If you can’t do it, Nobody can!”

My mom was (and still is) an excellent cheerleader for her children, but she was much more than just that as we were growing up. My mom was a great believer in getting involved in what her kids wanted to do, so that they could more fully explore their potential and learn from their experiences.

It was the mid-1960’s. In our family of four siblings there were three groups: Ken (the oldest son), Jean (the only girl), and the little boys (myself and my younger brother, John). John and I were separated in age by two years, just like each of the siblings, but we were grouped together--shared the same room, played together, fought together and grew up together. In fact, when we fought with each other, one of the most effective punishments that my parents could give us was to separate us--we couldn’t stand being apart.

It was during this time that John and I made one of our first attempts to go into business for ourselves when we decided to start a Kool-aid stand. Mom agreed to not only let us, but agreed to be our wholesale supplier. She figured out what it would cost to make the Kool-aid and charged us for the materials (at her cost or below I’m sure, and she probably threw in the first half gallon for free to get us started).

As part of our marketing effort, John and I came up with a catchy jingle we could sing as potential customers came into range. We even enlisted the assistance of a neighborhood girl. We convinced her to ride her bike around the block singing our jingle for free:

“Kool-aid, Kool-aid taste great,
Get it here at 208 . . . Meeker Street, that is!”

Undaunted by a less than enthusiastic response from the community--sales were slow--before long we were looking into expanding our menu. We negotiated with our supplier, M.O.M., and were able to add cupcakes to our menu, at a minimal expense to ourselves. As John reminded me in a recent conversation, Mom only charged us for the cost of materials and threw in the cost of production (her labor, equipment costs, cost for electricity) for free.

It was great working with such a supportive supplier who was so willing to help us meet the changing needs of our expanding market. For example, one day we had a gentleman come by the stand. We asked if he would like to purchase some Kool-aid. He said that he really didn’t want any Kool-aid, but he would take a hamburger if we had one. After a quick negotiation with Mom, we produced a hamburger for the man. Another sale saved by the quick response of our supplier!

As you can see, things did get a little out of hand, but Mom was tireless in her support, helping us to succeed, or at least, helping us to learn while trying. I don’t know how many days this enterprise went on, but it did make a lasting impression on both John and myself. Especially how Mom showed us that supporting someone’s dream often involves a little more than just cheering them on. It means getting involved to help make it happen. But that was the type of mother we had growing up and that’s the type of person she is to this day.

So, of course, I would relate that to how God is always there pulling for us to succeed. And not only that, but He supplies all of our needs. What a blessing to know a God who is for us and not against us!

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? Romans 31:8 (NKJ)