Ascending

Well, one reason I guess to write in a blog is so that people can get to know me better, the story I will relate might force you to change your opinion of me, but I doubt it. I’m sure most of those who know me have figured out the story, but the details are unknown, and I think it will stay that way.

I also want people to understand why I am where I am in my spiritual life. I could be so much farther along, but I was forced to hit a reset button and start all over at one point in my life. I will only tell you all this one detail, I swear I never did coke. :)

I also think that is is just a good story, it helps to be reminded of grace. And how honoring your parents can make an eternal difference.

As I was driving back from my friend’s wedding I thought about why we, my friend and I, believe so differently, why we have ended up so far apart, on opposite sides of the spiritual spectrum in fact. I think it comes down to one simple thing, respecting your parents. I remember he asked me why I still went to church, “You don’t have to do what your father tells you anymore, you are an adult!” He said.

I just ignored him. He wouldn’t understand since his relationship with his father was so different from mine. He rebelled, striking out, trying to get away. I feared disappointing my father. I always wanted him to be proud of me. I never wanted to hurt my parents, I knew telling them that I wasn’t going to go to church anymore would hurt them. So I went. I went and listened, while I didn’t really care, maybe didn’t even believe, the messages stilled seeped in. That is why I was able to be affected so greatly, have my life changed, my path reversed, at Cornerstone ‘97, by a simple message told by Sonny, lead singer of P.O.D.

I had descended deeper into, well, we shall just call it “stuff.” By 1997 “stuff” pretty much ruled my life, all I cared about was having fun. Cornerstone was something I had wanted to go to for a while, it seemed like it would be a good time, and so I decided to go.

We, my friend and I, went to Cornerstone filled with excitement. We looked forward to seeing Starflyer ’59, Disciple, Tourniquet, and P.O.D. At that time I was still living in Pennsylvania and the trip took about seventeen hours, we did stop more than we had to though.

Our hookup for some alcohol had fallen through, so we were heading there dry, we were quite unhappy about this fact, but it turns out that it was a very good thing. Several people were kicked out for having alcohol and I ‘m certain that we were stupid enough to have joined them if we had successfully gotten a stash.

Most of the time there was not really all that important, it was a good time, but unimportant. The P.O.D. show was different however.

The music was good, but the area was hot so I went to the back and sat in a wooden folding chair in the back area, along with some others who were tuckered out like I was. Sonny began to speak. He was no idiot; he knew that some there were not the ideal Cornerstone participant. I don’t quite remember what he said, but it made some sort of impression. They decided to have an informal Lord’s Supper (bad theology I know). I think that they only did a drink, no bread, and the drink was grape punch. Cheap grape punch. Punch that sold for fifty-nine cents at any grocery store. Punch that struck fear into me, at that moment I felt the weight of all my sins, I knew that the existence of God was not a fable passed down from generation to generation, that Christ really did have to die for me, or else I would die. I knew this and was terrified, how could I even think of drinking that grape punch that was to be used to signify the Lord’s Supper? I shrank back, feeling the peculiar sensation of sorrow inside me, the one I call “crying inside.” I wanted to be rescued, but was scared, I didn’t want God’s attention to fall on me; I didn’t want him to look at this wretch. Like Adam long ago, I hid.

I watched as a young woman walked towards me, holding a plastic jug of grape punch, she handed it to me and walked off. Time seemed to slow. It must have, how could all of this have happened if time had not paused, or at least relaxed a bit. As I took the cheap, plastic jug, I knew I had been seen. I could not hide. I had to choose, life or death, Christ or the world. Tears of joy in my eyes, for I knew that God knew me, saw what I was, and still offered His arms to me, I drank from the cheap, plastic jug. I felt cleansed as I drank, I felt forgiveness as I drank, I knew I was a changed person as I drank the cheap, too sweet grape punch.

The world looked different, I could see things I hadn’t before, I had truly felt close to God for the first time in my life. I couldn’t wait to see if my friend had had the same experience. He hadn’t, he had left, and he was sitting with a group of people who had grown bored with the “sermon” as well.

Had he chosen death or had he not even realized that a choice was being offered to him?

I wish I could say that I put away all the “stuff” at that point, but sanctification is a slow, never ending process, but at that point I ceased to descend. I started to ascend, to rise higher than I ever had before, or even thought possible.

I still struggle with issues caused by the way I had lived my life, but I get better, I struggle on. I grow in wisdom and grace.

A few things: Just a note to all the strict reformed types out there, a reminder that good theology doesn’t save, grace does. The Lord’s Supper at a concert using only grape punch was one of the worst examples of theology I have seen in a Christian place, but God still used it, I am sure that I can’t be the only one who was pulled back that evening.

Of course, that is not an excuse to not have good theology, just make certain you treasure grace over creeds, and wisdom over knowledge.

I’m note sure that anyone has really known this story before, I was ashamed of what I had been, and I treasured this moment above most others, but what good is it if it is not shared?

I also realize that if I had not had to struggle with all these things, I would be farther along in my walk with God, I also realize that maybe some might not know what I had been through and wonder why I am dealing with a certain issue, one that they themselves either never had to deal with or had put behind them long ago. Well, here is the reason, I dug myself a pit, I wasn’t even merely treading water, and it takes a while to get out of deep pits.

Fritz

Reverend Marvin Davis

What is a great man? Is a man made great by doing big things? Or can a simple man be great for bringing his family through the Great Depression unscathed? I know a great man, I call him Grandpa, just as Wife #1 does. Grandpa-in-law just doesn't sound right. He is ninety-two years old, and is dying.

My mind feels drained as I force myself to write this post, if it seems off somehow, my deepest and most sincere apologies. Or something.

Marvin Davis had the greatest faith of any man I have known. It was so great because it was untainted, it was simple. He knew God's promises and believed them. I wish I could do the same so easily. While Wife #1 and I went through our personal wasteland, I remember his prayers for us. We would swing by the Grandparents house after visiting The Greatest Mother and Father-in-Law Ever (TM) , and Grandma and Grandpa would always be happy to see us. Even if we came by late at night, like past 7:30.

We would sit at the dining room table and bow our heads, and he would pray for us. He would remind God of His promises and let Him know that we were not scared that He would not keep His word, we were merely waiting for Him.

His voice would not shake or waver and I always felt peace wash over me. His faith was so great and pure that it dragged me along with it. I knew that God would take care of us, I knew that there was a plan, I had just merely forgotten for a bit, his faith would remind me.

Faith without works is dead.

He would pray for us, then Grandma would reach into her purse and pull out some money. They knew that God would take care of us, they also knew that God uses His people to care for each other. They were always concerned that we would run out of food. How silly, all you have to do is look at my gut and realize that I could out live a camel in the desert; but, of course, I hadn't lived through the Great Depression.

We make jokes about the tales "old people" tell us, but I always tried to listen to Grandpa's tales. We are so soft and spoiled. The stories about living through the Depression still amaze me. Of course, that is why his faith was so strong, after living through something so horrible, relying only on God to take care of you, and He does, I would think most anyone's faith would be strong.

It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle.

The most insidous trap confront us every day, the trap of easy living. When hard times come, we cry out for them to pass, we pray for the easy life to come back, but the easy life saps our faith, hard times make us strong.

We do not mourn as those who have no hope.

Dr. Dave, the wisest doctor I have known, is putting a "pain patch" on Grandpa today. Once this is done, he will feel no more pain, but will live for less than 24 hours. That is for the best. Grandpa will sleep and awake to his God. His faith will be repaid a hundredfold and there will be no more pain for him. He will even get to hang out with my Mom who he first thought was my sister when he met her since she looked so young and filled with energy.

We will miss you Grandpa, sleep well.

Fritz

The Silence was Deafening

Hi. How are you? I am fine.

So began most of my letters to relatives, letters that I was forced by my parents to write. I had nothing to say. So it is now. While my life hasn't been really busy there is enough going on that I have had no desire to really write anything. There is something in the works though, have no fear.

On a side note: The toast was very well liked. I was happy. Huzzah!


Fritz

The Drag Race

This is your intrepid reporter, Fritz T. Grand, reporting live from the National Drag Racing Championship, The Senior Circuit! We are down to the last two finalists! The races today have been filled with excitement as the Cadillacs have raced each other at speeds in excess of 40 miles per hour! Swapping paint as they back into each other! And forcing each other off the track as they shift lanes without looking to see if anyone else is there! Oh the drama!

The two finalists are ready, they are sitting at the red light, about 30 yards from it to be exact, the light changes to green, the tension grows as neither car moves! The seconds drag past as neither car moves an inch! The light has been green for what seem hours yet neither moves!

Finally they notice that the light has changed! They’re off! The engines roar as they pass the five mile per hour mark……ten miles per hour……………fifteen………..they are cruising at a speed of almost twenty miles per hour! Oh the acceleration! Only four minutes have past and they are racing at almost twenty-five miles an hour!

What is this? For no reason the car in the right lane is drifting to the left! Does he not see the lines on the ground? There is a crunching sound as the cars jolt into each other! Amazingly enough, neither driver seems to notice! They cross the finish line neck and neck!

Oh the excitement!

This has been another exciting race! I am so glad to have been able to share the thrills of the Drag Racing Championship, The Senior Circuit, with you! This is Fritz T. Grand signing off.

Fritz

The Little Edit That Grew

This was just going to be an edit pasted to the top of the “College?” post, but it grew lengthy, so it gets its own space.

I was thinking while driving somewhere, and this is just an idea bumping around in my mind, but was the feminist movement of the Sixties brought about by a lack of respect by men? Women wanted more respect and decided to try and be better than men at what they do in order to gain that respect. What should have happened was that the men should have been shown the error of their ways and been taught to respect the work that their wives, mothers, sisters, etc. do.

I can see what happened in many homes in the Fifties so clearly as if I was there. The man comes home from his job, sits in his chair, and does nothing the rest of the night. He might even say, or think, that his wife owes it to him to pamper him since she didn’t
work all day.” He never helps with the dishes, doesn’t help with the errands, and mostly ignores his kids unless it is to play catch. That stuff is all his wife’s responsibility and since she doesn’t bring in any income, she needs to ask him for money to buy anything, just like one of the children.

Of course that lack of respect would get wearying. “Women’s work” is used as a derogatory term for a task. The wife was not honored for her sacrifices; rather she was pushed into the background, an unimportant part of the household. My boss at Howard Hanna used to like to say that the employees were expenses, while the real estate agents were revenue generators; therefore they were more important than us. Of course that is idiotic, but that was probably the same thought pattern so prominent regarding women who worked in the home.

As with most backlashes against a grievous crime, it went too far. Just as the anti-feminist backlash that attempts to push women into the background again is going to the other extreme.

There can be arguments about a woman’s proper place regarding her husband, I have found that ignoring Wife #1’s advice to be rather foolish, just as it is foolish for her to ignore my advice. A husband and wife are to be a team, this is too often forgotten in the argument over what “dominion” means.

Over the past few years I have discovered the truth of the matter about working mothers, you people are destroying yourselves! With Wife #1’s health issues, if something is to be done around the house, at the least I have to be a big part of it, or most often I have to do it myself. This includes most errand running, grocery shopping, most house cleaning, laundry, dishes,

*Thank you Lord for dishwashers*

and cook several meals a week. That is not counting the things that I do myself for upkeep on the house, I do this while working, without any kids. I can’t imagine what it would be like to do this while trying to be a Mother to children. No wonder the divorce rate is 50%. Women are stretching themselves too thin, while men get lazier. Behold the fruits of the feminist movement. The backlash went too far.

There can be no argument that the moral decay of our country has been accelerated since the Sixties and Seventies. Kids today run wild, problems that would not have been imagined in the Fifties are now commonplace. Over 50% of childbirths are out-of-wedlock. This number soars to 70% in the inner cities. Women have worked so hard to try and prove that they can do it all, but they can’t. How selfish of men to just idly sit by while their wife runs herself ragged! But it is short-sighted selfishness, their marriage grows stale since their wife spends all of her energy on everything else, that she has nothing to give towards the marriage, divorce looms, kids have to parental control, and so society suffers.

The answer to the problem is simple, just as most answers are. Men must apologize for their selfishness, their lack of respect towards the hard work that women do, and acknowledge the fact that the wife is just as important to the family as he is, might even be more important. The Proverb about the perfect woman rising before the sun rises and going to bed after the sun sets assumes, I believe, that the husband is working all that time too, maybe more. There is a guy I know who works long hours, and he does extra work outside the home, yet many times he will run to the store to get groceries.

Women for their part need to admit that they were wrong. There was a problem, a lack of respect, yet their methods for gaining that respect were wrong. They tried to be better than men at being men. I am not saying that a woman can’t do the job a man does, what I am saying is that the family suffers when this occurs. In their pride in fact, they have tried to be men and women at once, doing the women’s work as well as the men’s, and all have suffered, especially me.

Why me you ask? Well, I figure if only one person went to work, there would be less traffic on the roads at rush hour, making my commute easier. Also, both spouses wouldn’t need to own an SUV for their drive to work, this would cut down on the amount of gas used. Greater demand means a smaller supply, this causes higher prices. So not only are your families suffering, YOU ARE CASUING ME TO SPEND MORE MONEY THAN I SHOULD HAVE TO ON GAS!!!!

Now of course I do not see a day when men will repent of their foolishness, and women will admit that their actions were incorrect, but I think it should be a warning to the backlash against the backlash. We do not need a pendulum swinging madly back and forth from one extreme to another, what we need is balance. We need men to respect the work that their wives do, and women to respect the work that their husbands do. They are both equal parts in the marriage, without both parts doing their jobs well, the marriage will suffer, and maybe even fail.

Quick note to men: Little irks me more than seeing women working while men sit idly by. Sure, it might be their “job” to do the housework, but I have yet to see a wife get irritated by her husband helping out. Go out and get the groceries sometime, it will be a learning experience I promise you, we might even bump into each other at the checkout line.

Fritz

College?

I have read some interesting things regarding the “should women go to college?” debate. Just because I can, I decided to state my opinion on the issue.

Everyone is wrong, except me. Now go away.

*Ummm, don’t you think you should elucidate your statement?*

No! That would give people fodder to disprove what I’m saying! The number one rule in debating (at least amongst politicians) is to never really say anything, so that is what I will do.

*Hey, elaborate or this post won’t see the light of day.*

Fine. Please don’t assume you know where I am going before you read the whole thing.

There is a debate “raging” over whether or not women should go to college. What I find amusing is that both sides seem to take a fierce pride in being the minority, which of course is impossible.

So what is the truth? What is the answer?

Before I go into that, let me give you a short background sketch of myself. I have an accounting degree, Wife #1 has an accounting degree although hers is from a better school. Some people have stated that one reason men don’t want women to go to college is that they might discover that their wife is smarter than they are, well, she is. And she worked harder at getting good grades than I did. She graduated with honors, and won the prestigious Business Department award, which was called something more pretentious than that. She went to college, did VERY well, and we have the student loan to prove it!

Of course, as some of you know, due to her health problems, she is rarely able to make it to work. When she does feel well enough to go and work at a place that allows her to keep extremely flexible hours, she doesn’t do anything accounting related. So was her degree wasted? Were the hours that she put in, working so hard to get good grades, were they wasted? Of course not.

But the money sure was. If we didn’t have that student loan hanging over our heads we would be in a better place financially. We are called to be good stewards of our finances, spending thousands of dollars learning something that will not bring in a return greater is a waste of money.

Of course we didn’t know the future, we didn’t know that she would have health issues that would prevent her from using her degree to get a return on the investment. The money was used wisely at the time, going to a cheap college close to home, in the end, unless you go to Harvard, Yale, MIT, Penn State – The Behrend Campus (had to throw that in there), etc. the name of the school doesn’t matter. Get what you need cheap, like shopping at Dollar General, the “Cheerios” aren’t as good, but they will give you energy to start the day just the same.

Another argument for college is that it teaches people how to be adults. We are so babied, not learning to be adults before we hit the age of 18? In the old days a boy became a man at 13, had a mid-life crisis at 22, bought a faster donkey, then died at 30. Today people are still learning to be adults way past the age when they should be buying a faster donkey!

*Wow, I can feel the emotion bursting through*

And learning how to be an adult from college? Based on my past experiences, that would be like learning about sex from a pornographic movie. You want t o learn how to be an adult? Go get yourself an apartment, get a job, and survive without help. That is how you learn. Or you can have good parents that teach you how to fend for yourself, I hated it when I was younger, but I am now so grateful that I had to work for most things I had.

Now to make the other side mad at me:

Education in important. Formal education (do not read public schools) in most cases is better in teaching math, grammar, and whatnot. That is not to say that people home schooling their kids do a poor job of educating them, in fact I think that home schooling educates better than most public schools. But it cannot really be denied that a trained teacher who knows the material from years of teaching it is better at teaching grammar to a child than a parent who is doing this for their first time. No matter what aides they avail themselves of.

But what about college? How do you decide whether or not it is for you? I don’t know. But I think before you make the decision to go, you need to have a good reason for going. Especially when you consider the thousands of dollars being spent for the experience. But if you decide not to go, you need to have a good reason for not going as well. I think the best way to decide what is right for you is to decide what it is you plan on doing? Do you think that you are called to teach? Do you feel the tug pulling you to artistry? Or music? How about gardening? There are many things a woman can do in the home, while caring for her children besides washing dishes and vacuuming. These other things don’t even have to be hobbies. Of course it is simpler if the tug is pulling you towards being a wife and mother. As long as the children are cared for, I don’t really see anything wrong with being an artist and selling paintings, or teaching piano, or any number of things. It just has to be done with the welfare of the children being a higher priority.

Now we get to the part that I think too many men think of clinically, with a lack of emotion. What if a woman does not want to be a mother? What if a woman wants to have a job, have a husband and not have children? What then?

I say this as gently as I can: Life sucks. I know this firsthand. Women are called by their Creator to first be mothers. As I write this I think about how this applies to me. What if all doors were closed to me except being a cartoonist? That would be awful for me. But I would have to learn to be content. Just as does a woman who does not want children, but one day finds herself pregnant. She must put the welfare of the child first, and all other aspects of her life must change to be the mother to this child.

This of course can cut both ways, what if there is a woman who only wants to be a mother, yet God says no? What does she do then? She must first be content of course, but what to do with her life?

There are far too many questions that are unanswered to really say which is better. I tend to lean towards not going to school over going to school because I am a big believer in wise stewardship, and to be honest, paying thousands of dollars just for the sake of gaining knowledge when it could be given to people who are in desperate need of help is not a wise use of money. In fact I would argue that it is wasteful. The gain of knowledge is never a bad thing, spending some money towards gaining that knowledge is not a bad thing either. Just keep it in moderation.

What the situation comes down to is that we have two groups of people who are doing the same thing different ways, yet they both exclaim that they are correct! Why can’t it be…

*both*

neither?

Like I said, I’m right, you all are wrong.

To be honest, these are jumbled thoughts in my head about this issue. I could very well be wrong about everything, but I doubt it. If anything I said has offended you, remember, I didn’t make you read this. But I will always listen gladly to dissenting voices, so long as they make sense and use a maximum of four curse words.

Also, most everything that I have said can be applied to men as well. If a man doesn't have a really good reason for going to secondary school I would consider it a waste of money for him to blindly head off to college, with no idea of what he wants to study, or do in the future. College is not a rite of passage that you can only do when you are between the ages of 18-24.

Fritz

The Toast

I will soon be the best man type at a friend's wedding. I am assuming that I will have to have some sort of speech prepared. I thought I would write it out here and see what people think of it. The couple getting married are not Christians and I do not intend to preach or anything like that since it is not my wedding. So here goes:

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Thank you all for coming to listen to me speak, I’m sorry you had to sit through the preliminary festivities, but it built up the anticipation.

When I look around at the people I know, I am astonished by how many years they have spent togehter. My parents were married for 29 years. 29 years, that is a long time, longer than I have been alive. I remember when Carrie and I went to a 50^th wedding anniversary for a relative of hers. 50 years together! Carrie’s grandparents were (or have been) married for over 70 years. They got married during the Great Depression. While I don’t know exactly how long your parents have been married, it has been awhile. Probably felt like longer than it actually was sometimes.

All of these people have something in common; it was really hard sometimes, excruciatingly hard even. They might have felt like giving in, giving up, quitting, but they didn’t. They persevered.

My grandfather told me that marriage isn’t a 50/50 deal, it is both people giving 100%. Remember that when it gets hard. The harder life gets, the more you have to work at keeping together. One of the things I have learned through my five years of marriage is that the worst arguments will be over the stupidest stuff. Like forgetting to use a 30 cent coupon at the store. Carrie's parents had an argument over a salt shaker and my parents fought over pancakes. Of course the cause of these fights is never a salt shaker, or even pancakes, but some other issue that wasn't dealt with properly and is simmering under the surface, waiting to erupt.

Good communication can help keep these arguments from rearing their ugly heads. You might not have to agree with each other's point of view on a subject, but you MUST listen to it.

There will most likely be a point in your lives when you will ask, “Why am I doing this?”

I don’t know. You will have to come up with your own answer. Personally I married Carrie for the tax deduction. I thought I could make money by tying the knot. After a recent cost analysis I realize that I have been screwed.

It is obvious that Carrie and Amanda's reason for wanting to get married wasn't due to our good looks, since, well, let’s be honest Jeff, you and I are butt-ugly.

Ok, let’s check the old toast to do list , I have offered wisdom, insulted the groom, so all that is left is to compliment the bride.

Amanda, you look very nice.

Raise glass

Good luck to both of you and may you both have endless patience with each other.

Ok, let's eat.

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What do you all think? All comments welcome. Mean comments are welcome but will be deleted.

Fritz