kwiseman's blog

As I write this I am recovering from a viral inner ear infection called labrynthitis and sitting in my house with heat, electricity and cable. When I got sick I called my primary care physician and got in the next day. I received prescriptions from him and went to a local pharmacy and got them filled. My insurance paid all but $8 of the bill.

I have an absolutely favorite song – most of you probably do. Mine is a song that I can listen to anytime, anywhere, and at any moment -- and no matter what I happening in my life it makes me smile. It is a song that takes me to a place that helps me through good times and bad.  It is a song that reminds me of being in the theater in New York City hearing it for the very first time.

In every church and/or denomination there are disagreements. Sometimes the disagreements are about seemingly “small” things – the color of the new carpet for the sanctuary, whether to move the worship time earlier in the summer since the church does not have air conditioning, whether or not to place a memorial plague on the new baptism font, or what time the youth group should meet for pizza.

When I was pastoring a church full time I heard many of my pastor friends talking about burnout and dissatisfaction with their vocation.

I was asked recently to preach for the installation service for a PhD student at her new church in central Pennsylvania. I was happy to agree to preach at the service and enjoyed greatly seeing the affirmation of her calling and the acceptance of her by the congregation. Present were her Bishop, Synod Dean, extended family, colleagues, and her church community – both past and present.

There are few things that I like less than being reminded that there are times in life when things do not go my way – or the way I want them to go. I heard it as a child from my parents and I found myself saying it to my son recently. Being able to hear that is hard sometimes – despite your age or life experiences. Being willing to accept that is a sign of maturity.

I grew up in the Texas Panhandle. The county I lived in had a chain link fence around and an historical marker by the first tree planted in the county – and no I am not kidding. There were no massively tall trees from centuries of growth. I grew up in a flat, hot, dry place that had its own kind of beauty – but fall was not a time for beauty.

I have not posted in a bit and there is a legitimate reason … I promise.  I could not find words to express the past 10+ days of my life. Sometimes we are so full from the buffet of blessings and smorgasbord of experiences that we cannot find words to speak. That is what I experienced the past few weeks.  It was something I will not soon forget. My cup runneth over …

I am admitting something on this blog. It is something that I often don’t admit publicly but most people who know me will not be surprised by the news. I inherited it from my parents and I have even passed it on to my son in some small ways (though maybe not as much as I wish I had). It is hard to hide and even harder to explain sometimes but I will tell you anyway. I have OCD (or CDO with the letters in alphabetical order as they should be).

On the morning of September 11, 2001 I was at home in Kansas City, Kansas awaiting the time to leave the house for a doctor’s appointment.