On February 28th, I posted a blog that contained the following paragraph:
I have been criticized for my commentary on bravery with regard to the Florida shootings on Valentines Day. I know a lot of very brave law enforcement officers. I know that the vast majority of them will take on that shooter every time, even if it costs them their own life, because it is what they are paid to do. I also know that a vast majority of them are stunned, saddened and shocked that their brothers in Broward County did not take on the shooter, and that as a result of that apparent cowardice seventeen people died without help that they could have rendered.
It has become clear over the last week that some of the officers were obeying the scene commander when they did not enter the building. (This does not include the school deputy, but the deputies who responded to the call.)
I have some thoughts on this issue:
First, my apologies to the deputies in question for my statement. You were not acting in a cowardly manner, you were obeying orders.
Second, the scene commander is at fault for not following a nationwide protocol on reacting to active shooter situations.
Third, there are times when orders you receive are immoral, illegal, or just plain stupid. It is your responsibility to ignore those orders and do the right thing. At least that’s what I was inculcated with in the military. I’m sticking with it. Perhaps there needs to be more training in some law enforcement agencies on this topic.
Do the right thing. Take the punishment afterward. I’d be surprised if the officers involved were punished for saving lives. If they were, it’s time to leave that outfit. I’d rather not work for anyone who values the chain of command over kids.
To sum up: They may not have been cowards, and I apologize for saying that about them. But they damn sure worked for fools.
UPDATE: 03/23/2018 I changed the zip-code to 55101. My apologies for any inconvenience this caused anyone.
My wife, who is the most wonderful person I’ve ever been married to in my life (*old joke, probably get me in trouble*) has been busy for the last few months knitting scarves. After a very long hiatus from knitting, she picked it up again last fall. This is a woman who can knit anything. Without a pattern. Thinking it up as she goes. You know those prize-winning pieces you saw at the State Fair last fall? Not even close to as beautiful as what this woman can do with her skills, needles, and enough yarn to fill a large bedroom.
Last fall she was kicking around for something to keep her out of trouble – a full-time pursuit in my opinion – and I suggested she turn her knitting skills toward the ministry for the homeless we support at the Good Neighbor Meal. Why not, I asked, hand out knit items to the guests? We’ve given gifts of blankets, food, socks, and a host of other things over the years at the annual Christmas meal. Why not hand out some scarves? After all, you’ve got a year to work on it.
My wife, who is much wiser than I am, said that would be too many to do by herself, and suggested that we gift them to another ministry that’s a favorite of ours, The Union Gospel Mission. I was honored to be Santa for their Christmas party in the recovery center last year, and given her max production she might just meet that goal.
A few weeks later, she let me know that a few of her friends from a knitting gathering, and her mother, were also making scarves for the project. Excellent!
Then a funny thing happened while I was wasting my time on Facebook: Mike Rowe’s Returning The Favor. It dawned on me that I have all of these great readers who do good things all the time. Mind you, I’m not #MikeRowe, but I am multi-talented, handsome, and modest. Uh… I’ve also been covered in sewage while doing a good deed for someone? Yeah, that’s more like it.
Anywho, I figured that with all of you out there, and all of the nice people you know, we could conspire to make this world a better place. How? By working as a group.
It seems as though just knitting one hat, or one scarf, is viewed as a minor thing by most people. But knitters know that it takes time, money, and concentration to make it happen. Yet it feels like you “just bless one person with that item,” and it’s a tough thing for some to bring yourself to do the gifting. Not easy for everyone in this crowd – a bunch of you are introverts. What if we got everyone who reads this blog, and knits, to make a scarf? What if they got all of their friends who knit to make one as well. Or, better yet, more than one. And some stocking caps if you don’t “do” scarves. If we did that, we could keep a whole bunch of people warm and feeling loved next Christmas.
With that thought in mind, are you in? You don’t have to knit, but you just convince a knitter to jump in on the team. I’ll have everyone send the knit items to me, and we’ll gift wrap them for the Christmas party. If we get enough to do two parties, we’ll do two. If we have enough to start going to the places the homeless are in the winter, we’ll load up the mobile-outreach-ministry-distribution-center (my Explorer) and hit the corners. And we will take pictures so you can see what it adds up to at the end. I’m picturing a great, big mound of gift-wrapped scarves and hats, lots of smiling faces, and warm heads.
And warm hearts.
A bowl of happy
Here’s the details:
Each scarf must be six feet in length, and six inches in width (wider or longer if you insist!). That’s simple enough!
I am asking you to put the finished scarf in the smallest possible package you can manage with a note of encouragement on a small card for the recipient. I suggest you put it all in a Ziploc bag and squeeze out all the air. (These have to fit into my tiny office at the Post Office.)
You can mail them directly to me at:
Commotion In The Pews
Post Office Box 4997
101 Fifth Street East
Saint Paul, MN 55101
The address MUST INCLUDE THE POST OFFICE BOX NUMBER. Otherwise, it will be returned to you by the Postal Service.
Also, I need to make something very clear: I AM NOT A CHARITY. I AM NOT A 501 ANYTHING. Yes, you read that right. You can’t deduct this on your taxes. We’re just doing this because it’s cool. No receipts, no tax deductions, but a nice smile at the end of the process.
Drop me a note in the comments if you’d like to participate!
When you finish reading any book (especially mine) please review it at www.amazon.com, www.barnesandnoble.com, and www.goodreads.com. Your review increases the chances of someone looking for a new book greatly. Authors appreciate your review, even if it is just “I thought this was a good read and will give it to my dog to chew. I especially liked the ending, because it made me feel better when he killed all of the main characters. (no spoilers, please)” Those few words (more than 20, fewer than 1,000 is ideal), and a 1-5 rating, make or break how the search engines find us. Thanks in advance.
I just admire Sir Winston, and experts say that pictures increase blog traffic.
If you plan on hiding under your desk during an active shooter incident, you may want to just grab your blankie and suck your thumb instead of reading this blog today. Seriously. I don’t want to hear any whining from the readers about it not being their job to confront people with guns, that’s for the police. We can all see how well that worked out in Florida on Valentines day.
The portly fellow at the top of this blog (and the one in all the other pictures as well) had a history of courage in his actions. Am I Winston Churchill? Nope. But he and I share an outlook on life that you need to at least think about for a few minutes. I promise, this will be one of the deepest blogs I’ve written during my time as an author.
You don’t have to be a hero to have courage. Courage is accepting a potential cost to you, and still doing the right thing when offered an opportunity. Whether it’s stopping the bully in your grade school from picking on the kid with the lisp, grabbing a shovel and facing down a dog that’s killing your neighbor’s kid, running to fight a fire until the fire department arrives, confronting an active shooter, or simply getting out of your car and giving the homeless guy without shoes the pair on your own feet.
How do you know if you will have courage when the time comes? Somewhere inside of all of us is the kernel of bravery. It is your choice if you nurture it or abandon it when the time comes to decide. Some of this is developed in your childhood. Some of it is a realization in your soul that pervades your mind when you become an adult.
What it means is that you close that hatch and submerge the submarine, open that patrol car door and head toward the sound of gunfire, or get off the bus and stop the beating that the homeless man is taking while others look on.
I have been criticized for my commentary on bravery with regard to the Florida shootings on Valentines Day. I know a lot of very brave law enforcement officers. I know that the vast majority of them will take on that shooter every time, even if it costs them their own life, because it is what they are paid to do. I also know that a vast majority of them are stunned, saddened and shocked that their brothers in Broward County did not take on the shooter, and that as a result of that apparent cowardice seventeen people died without help that they could have rendered.
I run to the sound of guns. Most of my friends do as well. I have friends I can count on when the bullets fly, and I know they will be right beside me as we crash into the danger zone to help others.
I’m proud to say that is how I choose to live my life. I’ve proven my mettle often enough to know it’s for real.
Take some time, right now, to evaluate your own courage. Sometimes it just takes a little watering to get that kernel to grow. If you find it within you, I’ll gladly take your hand in friendship and face the demons together.
Back to Winston for a moment. He’s the reason they don’t speak German in London today. He had the courage to face ridicule, bombs, and a life in chains if the Germans won. He had the moral courage to call Hitler what he was: evil. I’ve got him tattooed on my upper arm so that I never forget that even old men with polka-dot bow ties can be the salvation of the world in times of crisis.
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When you finish reading any book (especially mine) please review it at www.amazon.com, www.barnesandnoble.com, and www.goodreads.com. Your review increases the chances of someone looking for a new book greatly. Authors appreciate your review, even if it is just “I thought this was a good read and will give it to my dog to chew. I especially liked the ending, because it made me feel better when he killed all of the main characters. (no spoilers, please)” Those few words (more than 20, fewer than 1,000 is ideal), and a 1-5 rating, make or break how the search engines find us. Thanks in advance.
Somewhere along the way, Jesus lured me back to life. I won’t do the whole testimony thing here, you’d be bored. But I will tell you how it’s impacted me in the last decade.
Somewhere along the way, I found a better way to live. I’m so far from perfect that you can’t even measure the gap. But I’m also so much closer to making it as a decent human that I can see the skyline from where I stand. Or kneel. I spend a lot of time praying. I still curse a lot, but I also pray a lot. I only wish they were in an inverse ratio to each other, but I’m working on it.
I have seen what the alternatives are quite starkly. One old shipmate is a face on the national news, indicted on multiple felony counts of a nefarious nature. It could have been me. By the Grace of God it isn’t. But I am bright enough to realize that it very well might have been if only a few things were different in my life. Choices, not very important at the time, were made that put me on the path out of trouble, not deeper into the morass. I consider that a blessing.
Not only do I have a great church family at Shiloh Missionary Baptist Church, but I had entered ministry work with my wife on an tangential basis years ago. We’ve been feeding the homeless, handing out blankets when it’s cold, and doing mission trips for years. There’s something pretty cool about seeing one of those blankets being used to keep someone warm. We also try to support the church in its work, and have become regular tithers.
Recently, in a move that surprised us, we were selected by our pastor to head the Overseas Missions Ministry. We didn’t ask, we didn’t seek it – heck, we didn’t know it existed. But it turns out it was created with us in mind. We accepted.
I’m not writing this to “rah-rah” what we’ve done. I’m writing this to let you know that no matter what kind of loathsome sinner you are, that can change. I’m proof. (My wife, on the other hand was never loathsome. Just me.)
How do you do it? You open your mind, and your heart, to God. You pray. You go to church and Bible study. You talk with others of your faith, and learn all that you can about how they tackle their lives. You step out and go to places like Haiti. You go out in the cold and make sure your brother isn’t hungry and cold.
Do those things, and do them with a humble heart, and you have a shot at some of the solace I’ve found.
Now, if you’re up for a trip to the Third-world in 2019, and want to do it as the hands and feet of Jesus, drop me an email. (Or, a comment – I won’t publish it) You might just be taking the first step in a road that leads to Christ.
It’s a pretty good road.
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Assault on Saint Agnes is available here. Just click this link!
When you finish reading any book (especially mine) please review it at www.amazon.com, www.barnesandnoble.com, and www.goodreads.com. Your review increases the chances of someone looking for a new book greatly. Authors appreciate your review, even if it is just “I thought this was a good read and will give it to my dog to chew. I especially liked the ending, because it made me feel better when he killed all of the main characters. (no spoilers, please)” Those few words (more than 20, fewer than 1,000 is ideal), and a 1-5 rating, make or break how the search engines find us. Thanks in advance.
Most of us in the Western world like Saturday better than the other six days of the week. It’s the day you get to sleep in, run errands, hang around the house, and then camp out for a night with friends, family, or just a good book. You generally don’t have to be anywhere at any specific time, and it’s the day you recreate the hardest.
I, as an overly busy lunatic, seem to schedule something for Saturday without fail. My thought is that if I can get it done before my wife wakes up, it doesn’t count as an interruption to our lives. This last Saturday was no exception, as I’d volunteered months ago to help a friend with the Good Neighbor Meal she was sponsoring.
A week before the meal, I sent her a message wondering what we’d be cooking. Her reply was that she wasn’t cooking anything, but another group had to take the slot – her group fell through. Happens all the time.
Now, faced with a Saturday off, I had to consider my options. One thing weighed on my mind: I’d told others that I’d be there, and some of them might show up for their first volunteer experience, and I wouldn’t be there to show them the ropes. Not exactly leading by example. So I resolved to go, but to cut it short and get some other things done that day.
Saturday morning was cold. Around zero. I knew we’d have a big crowd of people who were hungry and hurting. Consequently, I got there early to help with setup. It was just me and the person in charge of the building for meals at first. We have both worked together for years, so we got going without any adult supervision, making sure the hardest/most time-consuming things were at the front of the list. It’s how you do it after countless meals, knowing that your volunteers will trickle in, but that coffee won’t perk any faster once they are there to make it happen. Got to do it first.
With every plate now in the air, I moved to the stage in the fellowship room, and started sorting the donated clothing. At the foot of the stage, out of sight of the doorway, there was a big fellow curled up in the fetal position. I’d never seen him before, but it was clear that he was exhausted – and frostbitten. Badly frostbitten. I talked to him without touching him, because the last thing he needed in life was another stranger laying hands on him. Life living rough is dangerous, and your personal space is to be defended with whatever you have available. He wasn’t too interested in the sweaters, but he did need gloves. Lost his.
I’m no medic, but I took a look at his hands – they were pretty bad, but not yet infected. He had little interest in seeing a doctor anyway, not the kind of thing guys like him did. I had no gloves in the donations that morning. Good gloves are rarely part of the haul. Lots of old sweatshirts, plenty of jeans for smaller adults, but good gloves and hats are not common. I’d brought a bunch of hats in that morning, but….
“Hang on a minute. I’ll go get you some.”
I grabbed a pair of leather mittens from my coat pocket and came back. They were all broken in and ready to wear. I had some thin inner-gloves that I could wear for the day, I didn’t have far to go to a replacement pair. This poor soul had nothing but what he’d worn in the door.
With my drink cart loaded up, and an able young assistant by the name of Joe *the best name in the whole world* I made my rounds. A great part of what we do is simple kindness and love. Yes, the hot meal and the drinks are a part of it, but being good to your guests, and welcoming them, is where you set the tone. My goal is to never let them be unnoticed longer than just a minute. I try to spot them as they come in the door, welcome them, and get them a cup of coffee, a glass of water, or some milk before they can even take off their coat. I’ve known a lot of them for several years, and I don’t even have to ask what they want. I also know to push the water this time of year, as sub-zero temperatures mask the symptoms of dehydration.
Several times as I served a cup of coffee, talked about the events of the world, or just smiled at one of my old friends, I felt the presence of God in that room. I was full of the Holy Spirit as I made my rounds. No doubt about it, I knew I was in the right place that morning.
As we were finishing up the preparation of the meal (*great crew in the kitchen who didn’t need me butting in*) I looked up from my cart and saw Benjamin. (Not his real name.)
Tears welled up in my eyes immediately. You see, I know Ben from my life outside the meals. I’ve been praying for him for over a decade, as I’ve watched him descend into a spiral from drugs and alcohol. I know the toll it’s taken on his life, and while I would regularly get mad at him for his folly, I would far more often pray for him when he crossed my mind. And he was on my mind often. I know that I could be Ben. Very easily.
Ben offered me his hand and smiled. He was there with a recovery group, and this was part of his service role. I brushed the hand aside and hugged him. All I could say was “I’ve been praying for you for a long time, Dude.” I had hope for him and his sobriety. I know it’s a long road for addicts, but he’d pretty much hit bottom and had checked himself in to be treated.
A few minutes later I was asked to give the blessing over the meal – something that continues to amaze me. I don’t think of myself as a “Holy Joe”, or even a very good Christian most of the time. Yet I am always glad to pray with others.
We all took our places and served our guests. That simple meal of Sloppy Joes (*strangely appropriate*) and green beans was well received. I saw nothing but smiles, and a lot of requests for seconds. Once our guests had been served, I grabbed a plate and sat with some of them. Excellent flavor, a hint of pepper and just enough sauce. I lingered over that glass of milk, and watched the teams cleaning up.
As I got ready to leave, I went back over by the stage. Back in the same place now that the meal was complete, my rough-living friend was curled up in a ball under a donated sleeping bag. All you could see was his head poking out from under the sleeping bag – and those warm mittens.
Man does not live by bread alone…
You may not realize it, but by volunteering to do things like this meal, you commit yourself more fully to Christ, and can even save the lives of others. Please send me a comment if you live in the Twin Cities and you’d like to help with one of our meals. I’ll get in touch with you. Then, you too, can enjoy the blessing that I felt as I walked to the elevator and headed out into the cold. There was no warmer place than my heart at that moment, and I’m glad that I listened to God and went in to help even though it wasn’t my turn. Because, if you’re listening closely enough, it’s always your turn.
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When you finish reading any book (especially mine) please review it at www.amazon.com, www.barnesandnoble.com, and www.goodreads.com. Your review increases the chances of someone looking for a new book greatly. Authors appreciate your review, even if it is just “I thought this was a good read and will give it to my dog to chew. I especially liked the ending, because it made me feel better when he killed all of the main characters. (no spoilers, please)” Those few words (more than 20, fewer than 1,000 is ideal), and a 1-5 rating, make or break how the search engines find us. Thanks in advance.
