Neighbors

Last night, our corgi-mix, Daisy, and I were just getting back from our walk when I saw our neighbor headed straight toward me with a look of sadness written all over her face.  I braced myself for some bad news.

I soon learned that their little corgi, Maggie, had suddenly become ill and passed away only a few days earlier.  We cried together.

Maggie and her sister, Sophie, were the cutest little dog duo our street had ever known and now one of the two was gone.  Even Daisy seemed sad by the news.

Seeing my neighbor this way made me stop to think long and hard about neighbors in general and how everyone has both blessing and difficulty going on in their lives at any given time. It's just the way life is.

With that in mind, how about coming along with me for a few minutes while I share some thoughts on the subject of neighbors. It'll be a little journey we'll take together as I highlight a few close-ups of some of the people I see almost every day on my own street.  I hope it'll encourage you, as it has me...

On the left side of my house there is a beautiful older lady, Helen, who lives alone, after having shared a great life with Dave, her husband of over 50 years until he passed away two years ago. These two worked hard together running their own business while bringing up five children.  Helen misses her husband every day, but she still has the devotion of her children and the consolation of many good memories, which is no small thing.  We especially love her Southern accent which is like a ray of sunshine that wiggles its way into our every conversation.  Hers is a voice we love to hear.

Another couple we know bravely tackle the challenge of raising a child with autism, and from our vantage point, all five family members demonstrate a deep devotion to one another.  They go camping a lot, and that seems to be their "family glue."  One thing's for sure, this family doesn't complain about the challenges they face, rather they carry on with a special kind of "family-first" grace that we see up close every single day.  They are amazing.

We also have a single dad with three children living close by on our street.  It's never easy for any single parent, of course, and it isn't for our friend either.  Still, we love to watch this family hang out together outside where they enjoy a fire pit, do homework in the Adirondack chairs, play in the driveway - all the while embracing an unhurried way of life.  Sometimes, when the wind blows just the right way, I get treated to the wonderful smells of great meals being served up for three children who enjoy a committed dad's culinary skills.

Here's the thing.  All across America, and on your street and mine, God knows all about each one of us.  He sees right into our lives - the good, the bad, and the ugly.  He knows us completely.  He totally understands all about what is going on in our heads and what might be troubling our hearts. And He loves us all the time, no matter what. 

Here's the proof:

>"You are acquainted with all my ways." (Psalm 139:3)

>"Cast you cares on the Lord and He will sustain you." (Psalm 55:22)

> "God is love." (1 John 4:8)

>"I have called you friends." (John 15:15)

Today, as our world becomes ever more impersonal, and some would say, cold, it's even more important to remember that we are all each other's neighbor.  It is my hope that we find fresh energy and reason to be there for one another, the people who live close by.

Be that special neighbor, starting today and every day thereafter.

*  *  *

>"Since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another." (1 John 4:11).

Reflections of 2014

The new year is just hours away!  Just enough time to share a few thoughts about 2014 before we all say goodbye to the old year and welcome the new year ahead.  Happy New Year everyone!  

GOD BLESS YOU!

                        Reflections  of 2014

Reflections of a year gone by are dancing in my head.  It was a good year, not without its challenges, but a good year. 

I remember sitting on the back of Arni’s Goldwing headed to Savannah.  The intercom fed my ears with classical music and conversation about life.  Savannah... home to old cobblestone streets and wonderful history – a city that warms my senses with memories of boat activity filling the river and tall, fragile, smokey brick antique buildings lining the waterfront.  We continue to love it there.

Caroline was the busy bee of the family all year long with her constant juggling of teaching, master’s degree classes, projects, interning, walking our dog, and still finding time to spoil everyone with her famous sugar cookies and homemade apple pies. Caroline - always the one thinking of everyone else, was such a warm companion on any given day.  "Sweet Caroline" just seems to fit her name and demeanor.

Melissa, ever the one with the aesthetic eye, set her sights on completing projects of many kinds and then got them all done.  If a project required a vision, she was the one to consult.  Many a time she rescued family members from clutter and the proverbial messes that somehow always show up on the home front.  I have her to thank for my Christmas CD of James Taylor that kept me company in the car this Christmas season. (She just happened to pull it off the library shelf for me.)  She does have the gift of knowing what people will appreciate.

Whoever said doctors don’t make house calls?  Matt absolutely did this year.  When he showed up at our house , the computer felt decidedly better right away.  He was always kind and cool as a cucumber (how did he get that way anyway?!) when he set out to make a repair. And whether it was a computer, a pet, friend, or family member, all seemed to know right away that help and loyalty were on the way. 

Want something cared for in a wonderful way?  Bobby was the one to look to.  He watered his yard like my dad did for years, even when his schedule was crowded, also like my dad’s pattern was for years.  He was mindful of his home, his family, and helpful when something needed to be done.  I loved hearing his “kid” stories, whether it was about a student or a niece or nephew. 

It was “The Year of the Birds,” on our street with owls and hawks moving in for all to see.  Call it "Audubon Two," you might say.  And I loved it, especially when I walked our Corgi, Daisy, around the neighborhood at dusk.  Just last week, two hawks perched on the Adirondack chairs in the back yard.  And then there was that extraordinary owl who let me get up close and personal when I took his picture in the late fall.  I just love nature, and birds surely topped my list this year.

Also scoring big on my favorite list for 2014 was listening to men and women who appeared on Christian radio, sharing insights from the Bible, advice for building great marriages and families, and finding solutions to life’s problems.  Just today I heard a wonderful anecdote from Jim Daly, president of Focus on the Family.  He told the story of his teenage son who recently felt the pangs of guilt for getting into trouble and disappointing his parents.  “Not good enough,” his son described himself at the  end of his note of apology to his parents.  A few days later,  Jim gently told his son, “None of us are good enough.  That’s why Jesus died for each of us - you, me and everyone.  That’s why we call him our Savior.” 

Yes, 2014 was a year of perfect days and the not so perfect ones.  Through it all, I’m so glad that even when I wasn't good enough, there was a perfect Savior who loved me anyway, brightening up my world with family, friends, birds, and Himself to make my year “just right.”

"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail.  They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness."  Lamentations 3:22 and 23

Thanksgiving, 2014 

Here is a short piece I wanted to share about an event that happened to me this November. Enjoy reading about it over the Thanksgiving holiday!  I hope you will agree that in a year which has seen so much unsettling news, it's reassuring to remember that God still pays attention to the details. The little things.  Especially if we're paying attention too.  And He often makes it His business to show up on a street where you or I live... 

Whooo's the New Neighbor?

Lately, right before dusk, my ears have been tuning in to the unmistakable vocal auditions of our newest neighborhood resident – a great horned owl. Each evening when I step outside, the bird’s resonant baritone makes a surround sound impression on me. “Who-who-who are you?” come the questioning cries of this nocturnal newcomer. I really want to meet this mysterious mottled brown crooner, just to come face to face with those big brown eyes, and yes, tell him I’m glad he’s here. So I wait in hope as the full moon rises in an autumn sky over Central Florida.

Added to this new anticipation is our silly and sanguine Corgi, Daisy, who accompanies me around the block at dusk in search of her own new buddies. Soon, we come to a nearby tree-lined street where half a dozen oaks extend welcoming branches to the owl, who seems to have readily settled into his new residence there. Usually, I hear the camouflaged raptor when Daisy and I walk, but my eyes have not yet come up close to the elusive bird. So I keep listening and looking, praying and longing.

Until yesterday.

It was 5:30 p.m. when my steering wheel made a quick turn onto our street. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something different right out there in the open in Chris and Lisa’s front yard. Could it be Mr. Owl? I wasted no time quietly putting the car in park. I checked again, excitedly looking out to confirm that there truly was something in that yard on the grass, sitting all alone. My heart began to pound.

Now let me just say that cars with darkly tinted windows can be a problem at certain times of the day, especially in instances like this. I only hoped that in letting down the grey window, the scene I so wanted to observe would not come to a quick and unhappy end.

It didn't.

There, right in front of a residential yard, was Mr. Owl.  At first his head was turned to the side as he busily inspected something highly important in the grass. I fixated on him from the car, wide eyed, like him. I decided to grab my phone. Could I possibly hope to capture a picture?

Snap. Snap. Wow! Two pictures.

Suddenly, my new friend realized he was being studied. Our eyes met - maybe for seven long seconds.

Snap. One more picture, face-to-face. Then it was time for Mr. Owl to fly away and grab some dinner. I watched as wings whirled overhead and that giant gaze bid me goodnight.

A miracle had just occurred and didn't I know it!

Oh, what a night.

~~~

“The eyes of the LORD are on the righteous, and his ears are attentive to their cry.” Psalm 34:15

Dangling From An Orange Tree

We've all had moments in our lives when circumstances send us "up a tree."  Here is a story about just that sort of thing, taken straight out of the pages of my childhood...  Enjoy!

“Dangling from an Orange Tree”

© By Chris Schneider

It had never happened to me before, but there I hung, just nine years old and dangling helplessly from the limb of an old orange tree in my back yard at 3:30 in the afternoon.  I was stuck alright, with my cherished and now errant blue skirt fast becoming my hated enemy.

I had climbed high up into that tree – probably 20 feet off the ground.  The trouble was, there was no one around to respond to my cries for help, or even to sense the growing terror rising within my heart.  

But there I hung anyway, with green orange tree residue quickly spreading all over my hands and clothes and no where to go except straight down.  I just knew I was in for a crash landing - if I ever got unstuck, that is.  Trust me when I tell you, it was not my idea of a good day.  

I know. I know.  I should have changed into shorts beforehand. But that was not what my nine year old mind was thinking about when a cool spring afternoon began calling my name. I threw caution to the wind.  Again.

The annoying thing about my sudden predicament was that in the past I had always enjoyed this special limb without a problem ever coming my way.  It was a favorite spot, a savored afternoon place where I literally hung out all the time.

I knew the tree well.  Often, I would happily scale the trunk with both hands quickly finding their favorite niche on a nearby limb. Swinging back and forth, I would enjoy the thrill of gaining speed and height with each pass, just like a trapeze artist.  Only I wasn’t one.  Finally, I would release my grasp and fall effortlessly to a quiet earth.  I loved it.

On that particular afternoon, however, just as school let out, I made my way up the base of the orange tree and quickly climbed upward like a monkey, skirt and all.  After all, I had done this hundreds of times before.  I never thought once about how the back of that skirt might get snagged and interrupt my fun.  Monkeys don’t usually have problems like this.

There I was though, as time ticked away slowly, my hands growing weary with each passing minute, and fear losing no time taking up residence in my heart.  What would happen to me if I just released myself entirely to an unknown outcome?  I didn’t even want to think about that, and instead decided to hold on tightly for a wee bit longer.

Needless to say, I learned a lot about time and eternity that day.

Finally, I heard the sound of my father’s white Pontiac as it made its way down the driveway.  Dad was just coming home from coaching practice at our local high school.  Thank God.

“DAD!!!”  I screamed at the top of my lungs.

To this day, I can still see my father breaking into lightning speed as he sprinted toward the backyard. (There was a definite reason why this man had become a great coach.) 

When Dad made it to the orange tree, he lost no time looking up at me, his youngest child, and quickly assessed the situation.  He also saw raw fear and exhaustion written all over my face. 

At once he told me to release my hands from the orange tree limb.  “Don’t worry.  I’m here to catch you.” His voice was reassuring.

So I let go, straight into the arms of my dad who carefully caught me.  No more worries of a broken leg, a gash to my head, or worse, a possible broken arm.  I was safe. 

And the skirt?  Well, let’s just say I never wore it again.  Good riddance.

A number of decades have passed since that unforgettable day from my childhood.  Needless to say, I’ve had some time to think about the incident a time or two. 

What have I learned from that unexpected afternoon?  Well, God is like our father.  He faithfully shows up when we are headed for a crash. And He is great at picking us up when we fall down.  His arms, open and everlasting, are always there for those who find themselves dangling from the complications and challenges life throws their way.

And when life sends a person up a tree, it’s so reassuring to know that God is right there every time - ready, willing, and waiting to catch us when we call out to Him.   

~~~

• “The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.”

(Deuteronomy 33:27)

A New Journey After Job Loss

The journey after job loss is a common road millions of Americans find themselves on at this point in time. I hope this piece will provide new hope and perspective if you find yourself in this place. God bless you...

“A New Journey After Job Loss”

© Chris Schneider

My job of two years ended not long ago.  I can still recall closing the office door for the last time, reluctantly saying goodbye to my paperless desk and gathering up a few remaining personal belongings that had helped make my work world feel more like home.

The job had suited me as I grew professionally, immersing myself in a variety of creative and administrative assignments, serving the people of a small church congregation.  Now it was time to say goodbye.  There was nothing left to do but leave quietly, gracefully.

But I dreaded the end.  The job had provided its own rewards, despite the disappointment of hours cut and no raise ever coming my way. Money was just plain tight for the church, and had been for quite some time. In so many ways, this job had become a mirror image of what was playing out all across our nation.  And with the latest round of budget cuts, my job lay there in a heap, whittled down to bare bones... it was simply time to go.

Alone, as I made my way to the brown double doors of the fellowship hall, I stood there for a long moment taking in the large room one last time.  Yes, I was definitely feeling the pain of closing a cherished chapter of my professional life, and with it, the prospect of facing a tough and uncertain job market.  I wondered what in the world God might have in store for me. Then suddenly my eyes came face to face with a large portrait of Jesus on the far end of the hall.  It was as though Jesus had carefully chosen this exact moment to look straight into my eyes, not letting me go.  I took hold of this unexpected precious comfort right then and there, grateful for the inexplicable timing. Then in was time to walk out that door.

Since that day, the memory of the portrait of Jesus has stayed in my thoughts. I know in my heart He is doing a new thing.  His Word tells me so.   And as this “new thing” unfolds, I find that I am pouring myself out to Him in a fresh and deeper way.  “Please, Lord,” I catch myself saying, “Lead me carefully. Help me not look back in anger. Make me more humble, and help me to trust you more.” Finally, I ask him to increase my faith, and in his perfect timing, open a new door of opportunity that I’ll know for certain is his doing. 

Yes, it has become a time of uncommon communion with the Lord.   I love that He is always wide awake to listen to me.  After all, He never sleeps or naps.  Sometimes, in moments of pure whimsy, I picture myself mailing God a blanket, or at least a pillow, because I keep Him up so late with my prayers.  Then I quietly remind myself that He has no need of my reinforcements. His attentiveness to me and anyone (at any time) is boundless.

And so my journey continues down a road I do not travel alone. Other men and women in similar places are starting to come alongside me. Meeting fellow sojourners becomes a highpoint of every day.

Job loss and job search bring people together in special ways.  Like me, most of the people I meet have experienced being knocked down a time or two, maybe even more.  Yet we all seem to get up, dust ourselves off, and press on. We are our own best cheer leaders.

And then there is God, whose grace and hope continue to fill the lives of all who will trust Him with their future.

Lead the journey, Lord.  We are all right behind you.  Amen.

• See, the former things have taken place, and new things I declare; before they spring into being I announce them to you.” Isaiah 42:9

• “He who watches over you will not slumber.” Psalm 121:3

• “And the train of His robe filled the temple.” Isaiah 6:1

Lesson In The Dentist's Chair

Everyday life has its ups and downs and twists and turns, and sometimes extraordinary things happen when we least expect them.  The following is an example of this very kind of thing, taken out of the pages of my ordinary world...  Enjoy!

Lesson in the Dentist’s Chair

© Chris Schneider

It was a recent Monday morning when I reluctantly made my way to the dentist’s office for a routine cleaning. I knew I needed to go even though I had that lingering sense of dread which wouldn’t leave my thoughts.  Been there and done that, I told myself, but now it was time to do it all over again.  Oh well, I knew the drill.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love my dentist.  He is one of those rare individuals you meet every once in a great while whose enthusiasm level is off the charts.  To be around him is to see life differently.  His staff is pretty much the same way. 

Anyway, there I was, settled into one of those long dental patient chairs with a little napkin draped around my neck, gazing out the window at the woods on the other side of the glass.  That’s when Kelly, my kind and observant dental hygienist, started up her prep for my appointment.  So far, so good, I reassured myself.

And so the cleaning began.  Kelly placed her fine instruments into my mouth and right away asked me a question. “How is the job going?” she inquired. “Hmmm,” I thought to myself.  “How do I answer her without sounding like I speak in a garbled foreign language?”

In that moment, Kelly’s instruments took a brief rest.  Quickly, so as not to interfere with the task at hand, I explained to her how I had taken an interim job caring for and tutoring two boys in my neighborhood, ages 8 and 11.  The job had been a great fit for everyone and I had enjoyed the boys immensely over the past several months.  I also shared the fact that the family would be moving soon, as had been expected, and I would be right back to looking for a more permanent professional position.  She sensed my anxiety.

Kelly’s instruments started back up again. I sat silently - her captive of sorts - and waited for her response.  “Well,” she said matter of factly, “God provided this job for you and He will most certainly provide another.”  Her words were firm, careful, and she was so full of faith. I was speechless, unable to utter a word even if I had wanted to.

The hour passed by harmlessly enough.  Scrape, scrape.  Polish, polish. And then the appointment was over. Happily, my teeth looked good and I felt great, relieved that once again I had managed to get through my session so well.

When I left, I climbed into my car and secured the seatbelt. Soon, my thoughts returned to the events of the previous hour.  What had happened in that appointment was certainly more than I had expected. Was there a lesson here I was supposed to be learning, albeit an unexpected one?  I thought so.

  

It was noteworthy, I told myself, that the minute I had stopped talking, God had found a way to speak up, openly conveying to me His thoughts through a wise and attentive lady – my dental hygienist. Yes, my interim job would be ending soon.  He knew that.  And the fact that I was concerned about what would be in store for me was also something He knew.  The bottom line was He understood my concerns for the future long before I ever had a chance to chat with Kelly.

I smiled as new awareness began to slowly wash over me.  God had been subtle alright, yet unmistakable in arranging for me to be in a dentist’s chair that day – forced silent for a short while – just long enough to let me know He was in control of my next career move.

“God will provide,” Kelly had reassured me.  Her words were emphatic, yet gentle. They were words He wanted me to hear.

God had spoken when I could not, right there in a simple dentist’s chair. Only He could have managed to pull off putting a fresh smile on my face while at the very same time filling my heart with renewed hope for the future. 

I’m so glad He and I made that appointment.

  

“Be still and know that I am God.”  Psalm 46:10  

                       

Lizards, Dogs, Pianos and Books - And Other 2011 Thanksgiving Blessings

With Thanksgiving just a day away, I hope you'll be able to find a few quiet moments to sit down and enjoy this  - maybe with a dessert plate in your lap or a nice cup of coffee or tea in your hand.  I am grateful for YOU!

“Lizards, Dogs, Pianos and Books - and Other 2011 Thanksgiving Blessings”

© By Chris Schneider

There are so many reasons to be thankful this year, despite my job loss at Easter time.  Some of these come to my mind just now and push to be acknowledged, sort of an “I want to be first in line” kind of deal.  No bullying here, I tell my head, just the sharing of what I’m grateful for in no particular order.  Here goes…

I am thankful for a little eight year old boy, Nate, who I watch several days a week.   He is an all-boy type of kid who every day puts on his military camouflage Halloween costume and walks over to my house with bug catching equipment in hand as he systematically and singlehandedly purges my yard of lizards.  (Do you need this done?  I’ll get you his business card.) Later, at dinnertime, he prepares us both a special drink of berry punch, organic milk, and a lime wedge placed on the edge of a dolphin stemmed goblet with sugar coating around the rim of the glass.  He is a unique, always fascinating child, to say the least.

Speaking of unique children, there is Nate’s big brother A.J., 11, a diehard animal lover who regularly looks forward to the task of making my dog, Daisy, and his dog, Rooney, best friends.  To this task he is deeply committed.  And it’s happening.  My dog is a mix of Corgi, Bassett Hound and Yellow Lab. Odd, I know.  His, on the other hand, is a pure bred Chocolate Lab.  They are as different as night and day, but they are a sight to see when Rooney puts on a show for Daisy. She is charmed by his funny antics too.  A.J. is a dog whisperer alright, and he is also quite the editor when writing and perfecting his fifth grade school essays.

My Thanksgiving list keeps growing as the minutes pass.  There is Caroline, my young adult daughter, who teaches piano to a legion of kids.  They get stickers at each lesson, and they also get a great teacher who is patient, enthusiastic, loving, and professionally trained.  She has a knack for bringing out the best in anyone she is guiding.  Her recitals are fantastic and largely free of pressure because her students know they are undergirded by an affirming person who wants them to learn and still love what they are doing at all times.

Then there is Melissa, my other young adult daughter, who makes her way to the Winter Park Towers every other week as the Winter Park Public Library’s special ambassador. Her assignment there is to bring carefully selected books to homebound library patrons.  On those days, she is the much looked forward to young woman of the hour.  Each of her elderly patrons receives books which are chosen just for them, along with a special visit from my daughter. They are blessed and so is she.  Later, Melissa always has wonderful tales to share about “her people.”

And there is that husband of mine.  I am thankful for this man who works tirelessly - not only at work but at home.  He is focused and fearless and always about the business of making things better.  “Bored” is never part of his vocabulary.  He is fascinating all the time.

Speaking of special people, in early November, renowned author and historian David McCullough came to town and spoke at Rollins College Knowles Chapel on a Friday evening.  The author, now in his 70s, was animated and still quite vigorous, sharing his thoughts on a wide array of topics.  One thing he recalled with special joy was having meals as a boy with his parents and grandmother, who lived with the family. During those intimate meals, he soaked up the wisdom of his elders which created a solid foundation of knowledge and inquiry for a boy who would later become America’s foremost author of American history.   “We need to have dinner conversation,” he emphasized to his captivated audience.  Then quietly, but still with great conviction, he added, “We need to have dinner.”  Good advice for all of us caught up in 2011 fast lane living.

Yes, Thanksgiving makes me grateful.  I appreciate the growing list of people I am having the privilege of meeting as I seek a new position.  I love the fact that I am actually growing and in the very midst of growth.  Now is a time of deepening - not only in my core talents, but also as I open myself to change and new direction.  I believe God has a plan, and I’m attentively watching for His signs and leading, grateful to be on the road He has mapped out for me.

I still love the beauty of a fall leaf, the hug of my neighbors’ children, the hilarity of my dog’s joy every time she goes for a walk or a car ride, the color of an autumn sunset, and the beauty of listening to a friend or new acquaintance.  I love the fact that the God on high is also right beside you and me every single day. And finally, how grateful I am to be living in a country that fought hard to give us the freedom we enjoy at this moment.  God bless America.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!