The Old Paths...

I liked the old paths, when Moms were at home.

Dads were at work.

Brothers went into the army.

And sisters got married BEFORE having children!


Crime did not pay;

Hard work did;

And people knew the difference.


Moms could cook;

Dads would work;

Children would behave.


Husbands were loving;

Wives were supportive;

And children were polite.


Women wore the jewelry;

And Men wore the pants.


Women looked like ladies;

Men looked like gentlemen;

And children looked decent.


People loved the truth,

And hated a lie.


They came to church to get IN,

Not to get OUT!


Hymns sounded Godly;

Sermons sounded helpful;

Rejoicing sounded normal;

And crying sounded sincere.


Cursing was wicked;

Drugs were for illness;

And divorce was unthinkable.


The flag was honored;

America was beautiful;

And God was welcome!


We read the Bible in public;

Prayed in school;

And preached from house to house.


To be called an American was worth dying for;

To be called an American was worth living for;

To be called a traitor was a shame!


I still like the old paths the best!

('The Old Paths' was written by a retired minister who lives In Tennessee)

Pondering - Global Climate management

Snavely and I were walking along the path yesterday when the afternoon rain started.  We took shelter in a coffee shop, which are plentiful here in Guatemala.  As we sipped our brews and watched the rain fall in the shop's garden, Snavely pondered that, if we were able to control the climate, he would have called for the rain to wait until we were finished with our walk.  Yet a farmer, just finishing planting his corn crop, may have wanted the rain to come exactly when it did.  Still yet, a woman with laundry on the line would have wanted an entire day without rain. God's word says that the rain falls on the just and the unjust.  If man was able to control the enviroment, who would decide when it was supposed to rain, where it's to rain and when it was more convenient for it to wait - the just or the unjust?  He asked me if life isn't complicated enough without having to try to manage the weather to suit our will.  "We can't even control our own emotions, how are we going to control the weather?  Or, better yet, why would we want to?"  Then he got off into deeper waters.

Snavely pondered that, if man can't even control - or stop - one oil well from gushing oil into the sea, how on earth can man possibly think he can control the environment of the whole earth?  "Preposterous," he snorted, and turned to look out at the rain, now coming down harder.  I looked into my coffee cup  and waited for him to complete his thought.  "Pride," he said, "is a bitter root, and man is filled with it, like an overgrown plant in a small pot. God hates the proud and the arrogant.  Being transplanted to a larger pot is very stressful for a plant.  It depends more on the farmer for water and nourisment and attention after it's been transplanted." 

There was a break in the rain.  We stepped outside, inhaled the sweet air and continued our walk.  Then Snavely said, "That's what God's doing, you know.  The world is in turmoil because God is transplanting us. He's breaking roots off the prideful."  He stopped, turned to me and said, "Now is a time to press into the Farmer more than ever. Just like plants transplanted , those who press into the Farmer will survive.  Those who don't will struggle.  Some will survive and some won't. You and me, my friend, we know who is our source - the Good Farmer.  Stay close to him and we will make it through this storm no matter how bad it gets." 

We turned and strolled together down the damp path toward home. 

Snavely has returned...

Many of you have probably been searching this site for the unbelievably profound and thought-provoking missives from the great Snavely. (Yeah, right.) And you are probably growing tired of "he's not available, please leave a message." (That's the message that comes right after the "press one for English.") Well, he has returned from his sabbatical as a czar (please note the small "c" which differentiates HIS kind of czar from the Czar (capital "C") that hangs around the White House.) Over the next days, he will be sharing his thoughts, impressions, quests, triumphs, and insights. And, unlike the capital C czars, you get all this at no taxpayer expense. He promises that nothing printed here will raise your taxes one thin dime! And you can take that to the bank. The dime, that is.

Which reminds me of a time when I was in grade school. (Yes, there were grade schools way back then. In caves.) I can't remember who sponsored the program, but we, as little kids, were introduced to saving money in a savings account. We were given little deposit books - real ones, not something the teacher created. We were to deposit our pennies into this account (some of the kids had dollars) and see what happened by the end of the school year. Each week, we deposited something...it didn't really matter how much. A few pennies, a nickle, dime...or one time I even put a whole dollar in. (Thanks, mom!) During our "deposit activity" each week, we learned about people like Benjamin Franklin ("A penny saved is a penny earned."). I also began to understand better Uncle Scrooge, Donald Duck's stingy uncle.

Taking all I was learning, I once approached my dad and asked if he had a savings account. He told me that, after paying all the bills, there wasn't much left to try to save. Paying the bills then became something I also understood. I learned that you took what you earned, subtracted what you spent (bills) and could save what was left over. (Although in our savings experment at school, we were being taught to save FIRST and then pay bills, my dad didn't see it that way.) All this to say that my fiscal foundations were set pretty early. Though in my career as a television journalist, I never earned a lot of money (they do now, but not back when it all begain), so I always paid my bills, but was never able to save a lot. But I understood that if you spent MORE than you earned, you could not save anything...or, in some cases, not even pay your bills. While my savings over my lifetime has been meager, my bills have always been paid. I am in debt "to no man."

I was discussing this with Snavely recently, and he told me it is the basic law of economics - everyone is subject to it without exception. Spend more than you earn, you feel the pain eventually. Live and learn, he said. But, he explained, there is one entity that never learns from the pain - government. He said that truly intelligent men and women - people who, for the most part, follow the basic laws of economics in their own lives and businesses - enter into the halls of government and are somehow mysteriously stripped of this basic economic understanding. But, Snavely said, the most likley reason for the lack of learning is that the "pain" is seldom felt by government. The "pain" is passed down to taxpayers who always, in the end, pay government's bills, one way or another.

It reminded me of a friend I had in school during our little savings lessons. He was overweight and most kids didn't like him. I was one of his few, true friends. He had problems saving money. He used up his withdrawal slips faster than he used up his deposit slips. He would take money out to buy candy and soft drinks. I tried to tell him he shouldn't eat so much candy, but he wouldn't listen. At the end of each month, our teacher would meet with each student to discuss how our savings program was going. My friend always asked me to "loan" him some money from my account so he would have something in his. I would usually give him something from my account so he wouldn't be embarassed when he met with the teacher.

One day, the teacher asked me why my account was growing so slowly or not at all. I told her about my "loan" program with my friend. She told me I was a very good friend, but that, by always giving my friend money (he never paid me back), I was hurting him as much or more than I was hurting myself. My friend was not feeling the pain of his poor saving/spending habits. It was a hard lesson. I knew she was right, but I felt sorry for my friend. Even so, I stopped lending him money and, for a while at least, he stopped being my friend.

Snavely got me to thinking. Maybe it's time we stopped "lending" our money to our friend, the government (like my friend, it never pays it back). Maybe it needs to feel the pain. The only problem with that is, government is very good at passing its pain to us along with all its bills. It's been doing that for many, many years and, like my friend, it never seems to appreciate the sacrifice we make so it won't be embarassed. In fact, it's getting to the point where its acting like we OWE it our money. I don't know about you, but I don't need a friend like that.

Maybe Snavely's got an answer for this dilemna. If so, he could probably sell it for a lot of money and mabe put part of it into a savings account. I guess we'll see....