Time Gnaws at Your Youth

One of the reasons I love old pictures, is because they take you back to another time. The picture I posted with this blog, I love. It was taken on March 16, 1969. I vividly remember taking it. My brother and I were both wearing suits; we had just come from church and stopped at my dad’s cousin.  A camera came out and, with the thought in my head, “I’ll remember this” I stuck my tongue out at my brother and thought “right now” as the camera went “click.” 

When I was a child, I often uttered the words, “right now.” I did so with sense of urgency as if to make time stop. What I was really trying to do was pick a point in time for later reference  a sort of “time machine” where I could later go back (hey, I said I was a child).  I remember another particular time when I was 9, as I lay on my bed watching TV I was literally gnawing on the wood of the frame of my bed (much to my mother’s later displeasure).  As I looked at the gnarled wood, I uttered “right now!”  Just so I could say “I remember gnawing on my bed, when I was young” You know what? It worked.  As I got older, I remember thinking, “boy that was 3 years ago,” later it became, “boy that was 10 years ago.” I still say that today, but now it’s, “boy that was 42 years ago.

Time just ticks on by, unabated with seemingly no sense of urgency but with no want for leisure either.  It’s always on a mission, yet doesn’t seem to do anything once it gets there other than to continue on with its duty as though by contract. I on the other hand am always governed by it, doing things it commands much like a dictator barking orders. Get up, get ready for work, leave now, drive faster, come here, go there. . . The point is, time just goes by and nothing I do seems to slow it down one bit. And to make matters worse, too many times I find myself looking forward to something in the future and wishing it would hurry up and get here and then as though to mock me, it purposely slows down like ketchup in a new bottle.

I never did figure out how to stop or actually slow down time. I’d be a very rich man if only I could. Yet why even try? As I thought about it, it’s not about time but about youth.  It’s about being vibrant, being able to do things, having a sharp mind, looking good, not being tired. Ponce de Leon searched in vain for the “Fountain of Youth.” Since he is not around, one can presume he did not find it.  Man has always cherished youth. Billions are spent every year in a fruitless endeavor to capture it. We rub everything and anything on our skin, from tree saps and mud to insect excrement in our futile efforts to bring back that youthful look. Doctors will cut here and there, stretch and pull in an attempt to make you what you no longer are - young. Many of us take all types of vitamins and herb, medicines and potions, in a vain effort to give our tired organs a kick start into new life after years of ill-treatment.  It’s vanity.

Growing up, long before I was a Christian, one of my favorite songs, was “Turn, Turn, Turn” by The Byrds. “There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven”. Ecc 3:1 Many people do not realize that this “song” is actually over 3000 years old. It was written by King Solomon, who God blessed with extreme wisdom and wealth.  The book of Ecclesiastics is a book about want and excess, it describes the pursuit of anything and everything. It was Solomon’s attempt to bring fulfillment in his life. Read it for yourself, as he withheld nothing neither from his eyes, heart nor his flesh. At the end he concludes it is all vanity and striving after wind.

The 12th chapter starts with: Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near when you say, “I have no delight in them” Ecc 12:1 NASB

The evil days he is referring to, are your aged days. It is important that we live a good life pleasing to God while we are young and strong. For the days are coming when we are old and afflicted and the only good things we will have left are the memories of what we once had and the joy of what we did with the time God set apart for us. Many people live their life in wanton pleasure with the thought of seeking God when they are old, now is the time for “fun.”  Oh what mockery and misguidedness, for the “bite” will surely come. Just ask any old invalid or near invalid person. They will either be joyful from a life well lived or bitter from what should have been.

As Dietrich Bonheoffer said:

"If you board the wrong train, it is no use running along the corridor in the other direction."

Live your life, so your regrets will be few, do it “RIGHT NOW”

Below is the 12^th Chapter of Ecclesiastics (NIV), I think you will find it interesting.

¹ So remember your Creator^[a] while you are still young, before those dismal days and years come when you will say,
         I don't enjoy life.

² That is when the light of the sun, the moon, and the stars will grow dim for you, and the rain clouds will never pass away.

³ Then your arms, that have protected you, will tremble, and your legs, now strong, will grow weak. Your teeth will be too few to chew your food, and your eyes too dim to see clearly.

⁴ Your ears will be deaf to the noise of the street. You will barely be able to hear the mill as it grinds or music as it plays, but even the song of a bird will wake you from sleep.

⁵ You will be afraid of high places, and walking will be dangerous. Your hair will turn white; you will hardly be able to drag yourself along, and all desire will be gone. We are going to our final resting place, and then there will be mourning in the streets.

⁶ The silver chain will snap, and the golden lamp will fall and break; the rope at the well will break, and the water jar will be shattered.⁷ Our bodies will return to the dust of the earth, and the breath of life will go back to God, who gave it to us.

 ⁸ Useless, useless, said the Philosopher. It is all useless.

⁹ But because the Philosopher was wise, he kept on teaching the people what he knew. He studied proverbs and honestly tested their truth.

¹⁰ The Philosopher tried to find comforting words, but the words he wrote were honest.

¹¹ The sayings of the wise are like the sharp sticks that shepherds use to guide sheep, and collected proverbs are as lasting as firmly driven nails. They have been given by God, the one Shepherd of us all.

¹² My child, there is something else to watch out for. There is no end to the writing of books, and too much study will wear you out.

¹³ After all this, there is only one thing to say: Have reverence for God, and obey his commands, because this is all that we were created for.

¹⁴God is going to judge everything we do, whether good or bad, even things done in secret.

Who Were You

It’s been a long time coming but yesterday afternoon I spent some time cleaning my office. One can accumulate a lot of stuff in 30 years.  In doing so, I came across a large box of pictures that the previous supervisor had been the ward of. As I went through some of these, (there were 100’s as my group consistent of over 65 mostly men) I recognized not only myself in some, but many of my co-workers, long since retired and some who unfortunately are no longer with us.  There were candid snapshots of individuals working at their desk. Group shots at various retirements and Christmas parties, others were more formal individual pictures to be used for retirement books or whenever a “passport type” photo was needed. These pictures easily spanned 20-75 years and included old friends who I met in my early 20’s while they were in their 50's and  60’s. There were many pics of my older co-workers as they looked while in their prime, full of youth and vigor, a stark contrast to what some were to become and what I had known them as.

I stared deeply into the eyes of those in some of those photographs, as I found it hard to believe these could be the same gray haired old guys that I had once known and spent so much time with.  I saw Terry, who was my lead for 3 years.  He was 40 years my senior being 65 when he retired, but here he was staring back at me at about 30 or 35 years of age. I could now understand how he could have been a tough soldier during WW2, and in charge of a large enemy prison in France as he often reminded me. No wonder he got so upset when those of my generation called America “stupid” for involvement in the likes of Libya. I pulled out pictures of Alex, who was a bit younger than Terry but every bit as tough after 3 tours of Vietnam. I saw Stewart, who once was a handsome young man in his 20's but I knew him only as a nice white haired old man with furrows deep in his face, yet always helpful and friendly towards me.  I have nothing but admiration for these men. Even today, though they are gone, they still bring a smile to my face. They were my friends.

Yet others had a different effect on me. Some who had been less than pleasant in my opinion and whom I had not seen or thought of much in 20+ years stared back at me also. Shamefully I admit that words like “jerk”,” knucklehead”, “thoughtless”, “screw-up” came to mind. It got me thinking about the fact that there in this box were pictures of me. Pictures that someday many of those that I currently work with and supervise will one day look at. Where will I fall? That will they think? I know we all have faults and all of us can be jerks and thoughtless at times, and as a matter of fact those very words may come to your mind when you think of me. I understand, I accept it and I apologize. But just as Terry and Alex, could tick me off at times, and they did. For the most part they left me with a positive influence.

I recognize that I must strive to live a life that makes others glad to have known me. To leave at least a small void in their life once I leave my job or this world. It can be difficult. Our natural, "let's get one over on him" tendency, predominantly in men is to be harsh and frequently cruel, often as “sport” particularly when one is young. When men get comfortable with each other, we think nothing of insulting each other subtlety. As we age, most tone it down a bit, but others continue.  I’m sure we can all look back at Jr. High and High school and have negative views of those that were cruelest to us. This is the memory they left on us, most likely until the day we die. Teenage girls and young women likewise can be especially malicious and vindictive to other females especially if it involves some guy in any way.

Well all I can do is watch my own tongue and teach my children to do the same. Christ Himself said, "it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a man, but what comes out" (Matt. 15:11-20). Likewise Paul said; "let no unwholesome words come out of your mouth" (Eph. 4:29). James called the tongue "a fire," and "full of deadly poison" (James 3:6-8)

I could go on and on, but I won’t. These pictures just made me think how quick life goes by and how I only have a brief time to influence those around me for good. I want those who know me and will know me to say. "Yeah, he could be brash at times, but I miss him and I’m glad to have had him be part of my life".  That’s a tall order, particularly with those who have no choice but to spend time with you, like fellow employees. Let’s enrich their lives not make them suffer through it because of us.

The Man in the Mirror

Sometimes when I pass by  a mirror and look through the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of my father looking back at me. It's quite startling. Most boys at a young age dream about being just like their dad. That quickly changes when you become a teenager or young adult, the last thing you want is to become your father.

When I was a kid of 9 or 10, my dad early on a Saturday morning would come into the bedroom I shared with my brothers and say to me, "get up, we're going to go work." My brother David was to young and my brother Ralph was to studious to go, although sometimes he did, but I rarely got away. As a child it was fun, I'd watch and learn as my dad used the few power tools he had to do this and that. He was not much of a craftsman, but he got an A+ for effort.  My dad had a very limited education and worked most of his life as a laborer, but he was always a very hard worker. He worked mostly with wood products, so although he was limited in what he could do, he was always willing to work on almost anything we needed, including the likes of porches, windows, roofing, concrete and homemade cabinets. Some projects weren't always much to look at and some had distinctive "flaws" in them, my mother cherished and used anything he could or was willing to make that could better our home at least a bit. For much of his life he worked where they made doors, so he became "proficient" (actually proficient is a strong word) at hanging doors. Frequently he would take me with him to a job, that is hang a door or two at someones home. As I got older, I really started to hate being woken up at 6:00 to go hang a door at some guys house particularly when it took most of my already limited weekend. He was fair though and he would often split the $30 or $40 dollars he would charge to do the job.

Many times he brought home scrap wood or damaged doors that he would buy for a buck or two. As a boy of 9 or 10 I would use it to make all sorts of projects. We had a cellar of sorts where we would store all this wood along with various tools my dad owned. I would use these to make all kinds of cool things while listening to 60's era rock on 93 KHJ radio. My favorite by far was making go-carts. Some would be elaborate with steering wheels and foot brakes and anything else we could dream up. Living on a hill provided the perfect environment to ride these "vehicles" with the hope that the brakes would work and you'd walk away after a fast and thrilling ride. If you have ever seen "The Little Rascals" then you've seen us, except it was more of a Mexican version with my friends Tomas & George.

As I got older I realized that although I thought I was just helping my dad, I actually was becoming a bit like him. I would (as my brother’s would and do) think nothing of taking on a project. Now some of those projects I had no business doing, but back then I didn't know it. And like my father, sometimes things didn't turn out quite like I envisioned. I remember my dad doing something, like cutting a door and then trying to put it up and kinda scratching his head and looking at it with a queer gaze because he knew as I knew that something wasn't quite right. But we would take it in stride and would somehow "fix it."

He tried his hand at anything and everything, plumbing, electrical, drywall, masonry,whatever needed doing, I mean he had no choice. It was do it yourself or do without. Now don't get me wrong, my dad did a great deal right and often met with success. But as I look back now I realize I learned a lot more from my dad than I imagined. He was the typical Mexican dad, whose very presence demanded respect. No need to say anything, a simple stare spoke volumes. You never talked back, and you never acted stupid in front of him.

I guess mostly he showed me what it was to be a man. I don’t think he was trying to,mind you, he was just modeling it. I remember he always came home and gave my mom a kiss. He always handed her his whole check and she took care of him and us with it. And in return I never saw my dad raise a hand to my mother,(although he raised a few at me). And this may be hard to believe, but I never saw my parents fight, now I'm not saying they didn't, I just never saw it. I'm sure I heard a few arguments but never in anger or yelling. My dad is still around and at 81 he moves a bit slower than he once did. He spends the day with the same women he has for last 53 years, often bragging about his 5 children whom collectively celebrated about 115 years of marriage all to their first and only spouses. He and my moms hearts only beat to spend the remaining years of their lives enjoying their 8 granddaughters and 8 grandsons. They are his(and hers) reward for the fine job he did. So if I do become more like my father, it may in fact be a very, very good thing after all.

Patience Makes Cents

When I was 16, I was in downtown Los Angeles for some reason. I remember buying something and getting change. I noticed that one of the pennies I was given was a “wheat penny.” Wheat pennies were minted from 1909 to 1959. They are called “wheat pennies” because they have two heads of wheat on the back as opposed to the Lincoln Memorial that was stamped from 1960 until recently. Most people today that get a “wheat penny” hold on to it as it is considered valuable, although with a few exception the majority are still not worth more than a quarter.  I’ve never been much of a collector as I always would rather spend what little money happened to come my way regardless of “wheat” or anything else for that matter. Well it just so happened that I had recently been given a price guide on collectible coins. When I got home, I took the coins from my pocket and started to look them up. None had any value what-so-ever, until I pulled out that “wheat penny.”  I looked at the date and behold it was a 1909. Wow, I thought, jackpot. Sure enough it was valued at over $40. But wait; if it had an “S” below Lincoln the value was almost double! Sure enough, an “S” But wait once again. If it had a V.D.B. on the back it was the rarest of all wheat pennies and worth almost $150 (1977) dollars. Could it be, was I to be so lucky? Of course, I could hardly believe my eyes, I was rich.

The following I found online:

The 1909 S VDB is the rarest Lincoln cent by date and mintmark, with only 484,000 released for circulation. It is indeed one of the most expensive regular-strike (non-error) rarities of modern U.S. coins. It is also one of those coins that has seen virtually nothing but upward trends in values for the last several decades.

The value of a 1909 S VDB cent is around $750-800 in Good, and upwards of $1,800-2,000 in uncirculated grades. There have been some badly worn, even damaged, 1909 S VDB pennies that can be occasionally found on eBay and in coin dealers’ catalogs. Yet, even these unsightly pieces often go for at least a few hundred dollars.

To this day, most amateur coin collectors lack this one coin and often fill their missing set with a replica.


But to continue with my story. Knowing that the better shape the coin was the more value it had. And wanting to sell it immediately to get my grubby hands on that cold hard cash, I called my friend Tom, who had a car and for the price of a hamburger would drive me to a couple of eager resellers I had found who were located in Hollywood. On our way to Hollywood, where my treasures lay, I asked Tom to stop at this little store, I had worked there during the summer and wanted to borrow some jewelry cleaner from my old boss. I didn’t ask him for advice, just told him I need to clean something and I would return it later. My impulsiveness allowed me to drop the coin in the solution without bothering to read the label. After driving for ½ an hour or so, we arrived in Hollywood and parked. I retrieved my coin and to my horror it was now deep green in color. The label said, “Do not leave in for more than 90 seconds” but who has time to read. Well I’m a smart guy, what this coin needs is just a little tarnish. So I preceded to buy myself a pack of cigarettes figuring I could extinguish them on the coin and it would tarnish it bring back that cool copper look. This was not successful as I further ruined this once valuable coin.


Needless to say, the coin dealers were not all that eager to buy this coin from a teenage Mexican boy that stunk like cigarettes. Finally I stopped at a coin shop and the owner was really nice. He told me that this coin was extremely rare and that I should keep it because it was so hard to come by.  I begged him to buy it from me, he was reluctant as he was a dealer and tried real hard to get me to go home and save it for a few years. Finally I got him to give me $10 for it. He told me it was a mistake on my part, I thought, who cares, give me the money. I took the money, thanked him and left. I gave Tom a couple of bucks for gas, then we went and ate some burgers, that along with the cigarettes pretty much ate up the $10 I had just received.

I’ve always been very impulsive. It has gotten me in trouble and has cost me quite a bit of money. Not to mention this is not a good trait and is one of the many bad traits I need to work on. God tells us in 1Thes 5:14 to be patient. This is difficult, particularly when we feel we have been violated, as when someone wrongs us, when someone cuts us off, when we are accused for something we did not do, etc. Our natural response is to get even, to right the wrong, to take vengeance of sorts.

Being impulsive stems from a lack of patience and self-control. Two things that God tells us we should demonstrate and listed among the fruits of the Spirit.

 ²² But the fruit that the Spirit produces in a person’s life is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, ²³ gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these kinds of things. ²⁴ Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified their sinful self. They have given up their old selfish feelings and the evil things they wanted to do. Gal 5:22-24

The fruit of the spirit is an indicator of God’s work in our lives and is also evidence of those who belong to Christ.


Webster’s defines the word patient as:

1. bearing pains or trials calmly or without complaint

 ² My brothers and sisters, you will have many kinds of trouble. But this gives you a reason to be very happy. ³ You know that when your faith is tested, you learn to be patient in suffering. ⁴ If you let that patience work in you, the end result will be good. You will be mature and complete. You will be all that God wants you to be. James 1:2-4

2. manifesting forbearance under provocation or strain

3. not hasty or impetuous

The apostle Peter was impetuous and impatient, he was always the first to speak up, yet often said the wrong thing. As a matter of fact he was originally named Simon until Jesus changed his name to Peter. Yet every time Peter did something wrong or dumb, Jesus would again use his old name, because he was acting like his old self.

The apostles John and his brother James where hasty to the point of being scolded by Jesus naming them “sons of thunder” for being “hot-headed” and literally wanting to take immediate vengeance when they were “threatened.”  At one point wanting to call fire from heaven to consume those who they believed wronged them. Luke 9:54-55

It defines self-control as:


restraint exercised over one's own impulses, emotions, or desires.

 ¹⁹ My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, ²⁰ because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires. James 1:19-20

In the original Greek, it comes from the same root word use to describe Olympic athletes who in preparing themselves for the games abstained from unwholesome food, wine and sexual indulgence.


So it seems I’m in good company, never the less, just as Christ rebuked  Peter (who seemed to constantly stick his foot in his mouth) and just as He scolded John and his brother James for their lack of self-control (And some of you thought that the apostles walked around with halos all their lives, lol). They were a lot like us – sinful men who struggled with all sorts of problems, until through the power of Gods spirit they were transformed and did wonders for God’s kingdom.


As silly and funny as the coin situation was as I look back on it, it often reminds me of what could have been had I just took the time to think things out. (BTW, this was just a “safe” story to tell, as I am too embarrassed to share the dumber ones) As I got older, I continued to avoid keeping my impulsiveness in check, much to the demise of my wallet and sometimes my physical & spiritual well-being. I still tend to struggle with this infirmity, but like most “illnesses” (and I use this term very loosely) if we take the right “prescription” there is a cure. That “prescription” is God’s word, and like any medication, when left on a shelf, it does no good. Likewise neither does it help much if you only take it once a week. It is said that an old worn bible is the best indicator of a strong spiritual life, I believe this.  Peter, John and James all went on to preach God word, leading to salvation for multitudes of lost souls, but not until they spent years by Jesus side. I expect to meet them one day and I expect them to be a lot like me - just a bunch of sinners saved by grace. But first, just like them, I need to spend time by Jesus side, taking care of this impulsive and impatient life of mine.