A Seed

 

A Seed

By John W. Vander Velden

3-3-2029

 

For deep within each of us is a seed. A tiny seed carefully placed inside us before our eyes caught the first glimpse of the world. Many do not know about that bit, planted in the fertile soil. Too few nurture that seed, so it might grow to maturity and reach its full potential. There are those that do their best to snuff out the seedling that sprouts in their hearts, not wishing to be burdened by its care and development. Others cut off each new leaf, fearing what might come from its growth.

But it is God that provides and plants that seed. It is God that understands and knows us better than we know ourselves. That seed is one of the special gifts God gives. It makes each of us unique. So, we should seek out that seed, feed it, and at times prune the growth to strengthen it. For within in that little bit, is our purpose, a purpose for which we have been born to fill. To snuff out that growth, is to deny why we are here in the first place. No, embrace the seed and the growth as part of who you are. Grow with that seedling, and in doing so, achieve more than you might imagine, for you are being prepared to accomplish great things.

For deep within each of us is a seed…planted by God.

(225 Words) 3-3-2026

 

A Bit of Light...

 

A Bit of Light…

By John W. Vander Velden

          The world around us seems a dark place. The news focuses on the pain and suffering near and far. How easily it is for us to become overwhelmed by what we perceive as a complete picture of present-day realities.

          Yet, what we fear society has become, is not completely accurate. Truth is there are good people out there. Folks that work for the best, even though their labors go unnoticed. Perhaps one way to describe them is to say they bring a bit of light to the places they go. Too often we do not notice these important flickers, that in truth are nearer than we think. But worse… too often we do not recognize that, in our own small way, we too can contribute to the battle against darkness. That each of us has a bit of light we can share with others, a way to make the dark less dark, even if it is in the life of one person.

          Fact is, it is not so difficult.

It begins by caring. Caring about the difficulties another person faces. Trying to understand the challenges of their lives. We focus on the veneer of the lives of those that surround us, satisfying ourselves that things for them are perfect, or in the least much better than the world we face. But what they reveal is seldom the complete view of the burdens they carry. But when we truly care, when we get to know them better, a time will come when the veneer slips enough for us to begin to understand a bit deeper about their difficulties. And in doing so we realize that everyone faces hard times, loss, illness, and disappointments.

          It is by caring we are driven to act. A listening ear, a gentle touch. Proving that you are willing to be there. Doing so offers just a bit of brightness, a contrast to the darkness they may be facing.

          The world can be changed by these small acts of kindness. It is up to you and me, to bring a bit of light…

 

 

The Blank Canvas

 

The Blank Canvas

By John W. Vander Velden

 

I awake each day and find a blank canvas. Over my life I have been given all the brushes and colors I need. As the hours pass, I cover that canvas with lines shapes and blocks of color, as I alone choose. If I do the task well, I will cover every square inch before my night’s rest.

You see it is God that provides that blank space. God provides the pigments…the bright colors…the subtle shades. God has given the tools I needed. But it is up to me to take those colors, use those tools to create my own artwork. To cover each blank canvas as I will.

So each morning, I face the new day…a blank canvas. I must do what I can with that slice of my life in a way that is best for me and those around me. I accept the gift, the time, the tools, and the bit of wisdom I have acquired to make my artwork worthy of the giver, knowing that, in truth, I am unable to fully satisfy the value of the gifts given.

But the Giver does not keep a tally of costs and rewards, and only hopes I use the gifts I have been given the best I am able. To take each day and use it to make some sort of difference. Positive acts, even the miniscule nearly invisible things matter. For you see, when today’s canvas is completed, God will add it to the others. That each canvas is but a part of the mosaic of my life. Every brushstroke matters in that collection of my days.

But that group of canvases never was meant to stand alone. The mosaic of mine is but a part of a much larger work. A portion of the grand work of billions of hands and hearts. A portion of God’s greatness…revealed.

And that knowledge has led me to recognize the grandest color I can use, the color that should be the foundation of each daily artwork…is love. Love of others…love for myself…and love of God.

So I am grateful for today’s blank canvas, and all those yet to be. I am grateful each day’s failings and successes are but a part of my artwork. The proof of my human strengths and weaknesses. I am grateful that I am not judged, for good or bad, by any particular brushstroke. For if I try…truly try to do my best…then I need not fear, for my artwork, the canvas given and covered, will be found acceptable.

I awake each morning and find a blank canvas.

What will you do with yours?

(446 Words) 12-1-2024

Each of Us Needs a Purpose

 

Each of Us Needs a Purpose

By John W. Vander Velden 

Fact is we need a reason to get up every morning. It seems most of our lives we are rushing from one thing to another. It begins when we enter our school years. Looking back I realize that those early years were training for such a large portion of my life. Getting up in the morning stuffing breakfast in my mouth and being ready for the bus to carry me and others to the building that contains us and gave me tasks to accomplish. Yes, I learned that 2 plus 2 equals 4, I learned the difference between a noun and a verb, and all the other information others were certain I needed to know in order to survive. 

But the important thing I learned has little to do with the hours of lessons. I learned to schedule my day. For going to school was the purpose I had been given during those years. And was prepared…and longing for the next step when my formal education had been completed. For I like most of you joined another organization. The workforce. 

By then I had learned the need of an alarm clock, how to find my own transportation, and how to schedule my week. For some their first job is only one stop of their working career. For me the location changed once, but not the job title. 

My years of employment made up a very large portion of my life. But those years were not my complete existence, and a moment came when my working years came to an end. And I found myself among those that God had granted the time and resources to step forward when that moment arrived. 

Retirement. 

I believe each person has a unique definition of retirement. There are those that plan for the moment when their working life is completed. Others have the end of their career thrust upon them. Forced retirement. And there are others that find themselves unable to carry the burdens of their works obligation. Perhaps it is health issues, or just limitations that age forces upon us. Yet the moment comes when the discipline that had been part of our lives for so long is no longer required. Each faces that moment in their own way. 

But even when, for whatever reason a person retires, that person needs a purpose. 

When the day came, after forty-five years of farming, I found I had an advantage. Two advantages actually. 

One: I had spent many years self-employed. To be successfully self-employed a person needs discipline. There is no one to assign the tasks I would tackle any given day. There was no one that would keep track of the time I started or finished my day. How many days a week I put my “shoulder to the wheel.” Those were among the responsibilities I alone carried. Self-employment has its blessings, but it also has its burdens. 

But the discipline that was needed for all those years gives me “a leg up” when I entered retirement. 

Two: I am a man of faith. I would hope that would be something I shared with the masses, but I have come to realize that it is not as common as I thought. It seems that over the years the number of people that consider themselves bound to a belief has diminished substantially. So if I consider this connection an advantage, and I understand it is not a benefit shared by everyone. 

Having faith provides a deeper view of the world that surrounds me. But my specific faith in God, the Master of the Universe, reminds me daily that nothing is by chance and everything has a purpose. I include myself in that everything. I know I have a purpose for each day. I may not know what today’s purpose is, but understanding that I have a purpose, energizes me to seek what that purpose could be. 

I do not fritter away my day staring at a glowing screen across the room. I do watch some TV in the evenings. But I have other things to take up my time. God has given me gifts, shouldn’t I, as long as I have the breath and energy, pursue them? God has placed me in places and circumstances I never envisioned, given me responsibilities I have not sought but must fill. Do I ignore those new obligations for my personal leisure? 

The fact is I am too busy. The fact is I cannot carry all the possible purposes that are placed at my feet. But that’s alright. I have sufficient purpose for today...tomorrow too. 

Each of us needs a purpose...a reason to get up each morning. I thank God I do!  

 (783 Words) 7-26-2022

 

 

Hand on the Plow

 

Hand on the Plow                           

By John W. Vander Velden

 

Beneath the bright hot sun, reins looped over his shoulders he labored.  Behind two stout well trained animals with strength and skill he guided the tool.  With hands on the plow as hour by hour he marched the furrow.  A small strip…four inches depth of soil turned and moved to his right filling the furrow left by the crossing before.  Hours pass. Sweat pours. Slowly the sun crosses the sky.  Time and soil tilled the only measure of achievement.

 

Seated upon a roaring machine of red, he feels the thunderous vibrations through his feet, the backside seated upon the hard steel pan but most through gloved hands firmly gripped upon the wheel.  Each pass across the field, a tug upon the rope sets the plow to its work.  Several minutes later another yank convinces the machine to rise.  He can hear nothing above the constant roar of four cylinders driving clawing wheels dragging the two moldboards burying cornstalks and leaving behind clean fresh earth.  His face reddened by the heat flowing from engine and muffler as sitting hour after hour on the tilted beast, wrestling with wheel, brake and rope.  Many days needed to complete this springs task. Many long hard days.

 

Within a box of glass and steel surrounded by levers switches and instruments he finds himself.  Isolated from the extreme roar of the diesel with most of the dust locked outside, he labors.  He must remain watchful as dragging spikes shattering and blending earth as with each hour acres fall. Though his days are long. Though his mind must be fully engaged. He understands the physical demands diminished.  As time passes he wonders.  “What would his grandfather think?”  Smiling he is certain the man would understand, for after all his grandfather was a man with a hand on the plow.  

 

(302 Words) 5-28-2012

 

The Gift of a New Day

 

The Gift of a New Day

By John W. Vander velden

 

I observed the sky painted in its glory this morning. The day does not always break in such colorful magnificence, and too seldom I take the time to notice. Even this morning with the many, many things on my agenda, I could have easily done what most morning I have done, hastily push forward not giving the day’s birth a moment’s notice.

But on this particular morning I understood that there are times when it is best to put both feet on the brakes, stop, and force myself to take the time. To take the time to step out in the cool morning. To wander the backyard, stepping on the dewy grass and the leaves shed by our hardwoods that are scattered all about. To gaze with wonder at the colors, the shifting hues of blues, brilliant oranges, and the pale golds that boldly filled the eastern skies.

I was reminded that each morning’s sky is unique...like no other. Taking the time I studied the clouds, their rims set ablaze by the sun, yet to rise. I accepted THIS gift spread before me and promised myself that, on other mornings, I would stand...watch...wait...absorb the wonderful moments of early day.

This morning, as I stood beneath the maple tree that had yet refused to release the bulk of its leaves, my eyes became damp. Aware of the magnificence that surrounded, and once more I KNEW the importance of the gift I had been given...A new day!

Continually driven to do what I can, to make each parcel of time I have been allotted, of value, I sometime forget the value of the time GOD has given. Charging forward as if each day was a footrace. I must DO this or that. Yes, I have been granted gifts which I should not squander. Talents GOD would wish me to use to their fullest. Sometimes that is a heavy burden. But I feel driven to push forward SO hard that I forget to take the time to accept the quiet and almost invisible realities presented me. The laughter of children, my dog’s devotion, my wife’s respect, and my GOD’s presentation of a new day.

None of the things I do will leave long lasting impressions. Yet I strive to make the world, GOD’s world, a little better place. That task, for me, is formidable. I am no more than the single drip of water in a cave that carries with it just a minute particle of sediment that I will add to the slowly growing formations, stalactite or stalagmite. Confident that my tiny addition goes unnoticed, only the smallest part of something much larger. Yet if that is the case then I will be satisfied.

Surely all those thoughts and so much more passed through my mind as I stood...shivering...in my back yard this morning. But for a few brief moments...for a small sliver of my life...I stopped the race...caught my breath as I stood in awe and accepted GOD’s gift of this new day... 

(533 Words) 10-14-2020

 

A Part of the Mechanism

A Part of the Mechanism              

By John W. Vander Velden

 

I have always been fascinated by how things work. The way individual pieces move in coordination with one another. It came in handy all the years I farmed. An example: I operated a machine called an “automatic bale wagon”. A machine that picked bales off the ground and arranged and stacked 103 on its bed and then placed that stack in the barn—for the most part by itself. At first glance it appeared a very complex device of hydraulics, chains, and many trip mechanisms. But it became important that I understood the purpose for each part of the mechanism.

For when it worked it worked wonderfully, but when it didn’t it was up to me to figure out which particular piece needed repair or adjustment. I handled more than a hundred thousand of bales with that red machine and learned a great deal along the way.

Recent events have led me to thinkin’. A dangerous use of time perhaps. But I have wondered about my place in things. My part in the mechanism of the world I share with you. I wonder if I, like those hoses and levers of my bale wagon, am humming along doing what I should as I should, or if I am that suborn valve that would fail at the most inopportune moment. Am I in need of an adjustment—today.

I know I am not the one that determines such things, for I am not the one operating the mechanism—just a piece of the machine that is bouncing along the universe. God is in charge of this machine that you and I share. But when I think of all the things I have over the years repaired, the gears and bearing, belts and motors, plumbing and electrical, I imagine myself among them in a grander wider mechanism. When I think about the things I do, and the things I avoid doing, I wonder if I am a useful part of the machine or just taking up space.

Something happened yesterday that brought these thoughts to the front of my mind. An action I took that I may not have been prepared to deal with, but I injected myself into the situation because I could not just walk passed and ignore it. Some might have seen my action as intrusive. Others as noble. But I see it as neither, I did what I did because it was who I am.

In the end I may not have been any help at all, but I tried and sometimes trying is enough.

You see I’m just part of the mechanism.

(435 Words) 12/7/2018

 

Thoughts of Parenting

Thoughts of Parenting        

 

By John W. Vander Velden

 

My thoughts go back to Jackie’s first Mother’s Day.  As that day approached she had only one wish…that Nick would come home from the hospital.  Such a simple sentiment, yet it underscores the significance of that emotional time of our lives, and the willing sacrifice a parent makes.  The bond between parent and child is complex.  The binding begins before birth and though many a child would like that cord severed, for most parents the depth of that connection is life long.  Only parents can understand…and not all do.  A grown child might assume that he or she knows what being a parent means…but it’s impossible.  You must be a parent…a real connected parent…to begin the process of learning all the subtle shades of that duty.

Anxiety comes with the task.  The level varies from high to lower but never leaves.  How can you not worry?  Our years bring pains and disappointments that we hated.  How can we not wish to isolate our child…the focus of our lives…from all the difficulties that living has?  Of course it is impossible.  Of course the hard times builds strength.  Of course overcoming failures builds character.  And we wish these things for our son…but…does it have to be as hard on him as it was on us.

Parents sign on to an important obligation.  I wish all parents recognized that. But we didn’t know what it meant…really.  No one does.  So that even now, twenty-nine years later, we struggle unsure of our role.  We learn by doing, but we had been fortunate to have had good parents, so our tool chest has a few helpful pieces.  Yet the world is in flux.  And so we wonder, doubt ourselves constantly as we trudge onward, one day at a time.

Does it get easier?  Yes and no.  Perhaps the load seems lighter because we have carried so long.  Perhaps the years have hardened our nerve endings.  Perhaps we force ourselves to give a little space…then a little more…hoping our young bird flies true.  But we continue to worry that lessons we have taught have “stuck”.  That the moral code that holds our life together…the very base of it at least, resides within his heart.  For truth can be shown…but I don’t believe it can be taught…it has to be felt to become real.  And what is obvious to me, might not be so clear cut to him.

There are times I feel that Nick is on a raft being carried downstream on swift waters.  I run along the riverbank watching, shouting warnings, and instructions, but the roar of the river quashes my voice.  I push through brambles, trip over tree roots and rock, doing my best to keep abreast of the son on the river…and he doesn’t even notice.  I guess that’s my best description of parenting.

You see I can’t move the rocks and snags out of the river ahead of him.  I can’t change the speed the water races along.  I cannot prevent any disaster that lies ahead.  I have come to the point that all I can do is hope I taught him enough skills to handle the raft when he faces these things.  How well he handles the adversities of life will be the measure of the man he has become.  And it is by that measure, my role as parent will at last become apparent…its good or its lacking.  It is for others to judge…and ultimately GOD’s.  For HE alone placed that responsibility in my hands…a responsibility I take seriously to this day. 

Each day I pray for my son.  That’s part of my being his parent.  I pray that he remains safe and well.  I pray that he does not abandon TRUTH as he searches for answers to simpler questions.  I pray that he finds his way, and knows he has NEVER wandered alone.  I pray he understands that love is more than ANY thing.  That love comes in many forms, but in the end, love’s only source is GOD.  I pray he recognizes the importance of family, and never forgets the ROCK SOLID foundation on which we stand. 

It seems a lot to expect, in a world of shifting sand and doubting minds.  A world where old truths are cast aside without a second thought.  In a world that seemed filled with a “me first” mindset…let the other guy take care of himself.  Yet somewhere amid the turbulence amid the chaos I remain optimistic.  For I know that the truth remains…TRUE.  And I believe Nick will find the truth.  I have to, you see, I’m a parent…it comes with the turf….

(791 Words) 5-13-2017

 

 

 

Truths

Truths                 

 

By John W. Vander Velden

 

When I was young I believed that trees grew upward from their roots.  This stemmed from the fact that my brother, who was always a better tree climber, had found initials carved high up in a tree.  No one, I thought, would climb so high just to leave their mark.  Therefore, notice the logic, the whoever had carved it did so near the base when the tree was young.  The tree grew and year by year the initials rose higher and higher.

Some might see this as a silly childish notion.  One among the thousands of silly childhood ideas I had growing up.  That’s a part of growing up, isn’t it, to learn truths that expel false ideas?  But the fact is if I believed strong enough, nothing could have convinced me otherwise.  That’s human nature.  We wrap ourselves around a comfortable concept, kept all warm and cozy, and close our eyes to different ideas.

If I continued to believe that trees grew from their bases, it would not change the FACT that they grow from the tips of their branches.  I would simply go on believing what I believed.  And if to prove my point I made a mark in a tree to observe its rising, I could say that a tree grows so slowly I had not waited long enough for the change I knew was coming.

Today I know that it is silly to think trees continued to rise out of the soil.  Over my lifetime I have made corrections about a great many things that I believed were true but found were not.  Which does not make the importance, of those long ago notions, valueless.  On the contrary, by recognizing that “I was wrong” I can accept that I may still be wrong.  It opens me up to HEAR and SEE other views, to test my truths against different opinions.  I do not except other ideas as superior to mine, just because they are other peoples opinions.  But I must take truth known and hold it against truth suspected, recognizing that TRUTH remains TRUE, and truth does NOT fear questions.

For there are those things that are true…no matter what.  Facts that I know.  Facts which are foundations stones on which I have built my life.  You might disagree with the things I KNOW are true.  I’ll allow you the right to be wrong.  I will not twist your arm until you agree…that’s not me.  I will allow you to state you position, to hear you out.  As I have done so many times.  Like I said the truth does not fear questions.  But I believe in love…a power that can, if given its chance, overcome anything.  I believe that love is manifested in GOD the creator and master of the universe.  I believe in Love’s sacrifice.  Love strong enough to give up ones life for others.  So from that logic I believe that JESUS is GOD’s son, and HE died for me.

I have heard many other points of view.  I have held them against these basic TRUTHS and found them lacking.  Perhaps you would disagree.  Like I said you have that right.  But as for me…on these truths I stand.

(540 Words)  5-24-2017

 

 

 

NOW!

Now!

By John W. Vander Velden

 

Yesterday was my day.

Tomorrow may be my day.

But today is my day!

 

Should we not be engaged in the now.  In truth it is all we have.  Yet it is too easy to dwell on what was…all the accomplishments… all the joy…all the good times.  Or to sulk over the past’s failures…the mistakes…heartaches…the dark days.  On the other hand how many times, do we feel certain that the future offers all the things that are presently out of our reach?  That the future holds all the wonders we seek.  So we spend too much time dwelling on the past and looking toward days ahead to fully take all today has to offer.

But today is the only day we have…really have…now!  I get up knowing that God has given me 24 hours…well maybe…but he has given me today.  I may not know what I will face on this revolution of the earth, but crawling back into bed, may be pleasant on occasion, but does not fulfill.  Better to get up and to it…whatever “it” might be.  I understand that what “it” is changes each day.  But there will be something to tackle today!

So I make a mental list of what I “might” do today, knowing that “the best laid plans” often fall to the wayside.  I do not drive myself as I did years ago, but just because I don’t hustle straight from day’s beginning to its end, doesn’t mean that I stand stationary.  I am grateful that there are things that demand my attention.  I may be frustrated that there are too many things that demand my attention, but there needs to be something.

So instead of milking cows every day…I did that for 35 years.  Instead of preparing soil and planting each spring and harvesting long days throughout the fall and into the winters…I did that for 45 years.  I will tend to a smaller world.  And among the tasks in that smaller world is my writing.  Each today…well almost every day…that I face at this juncture of my life, should include time for…writing.

For God has given me this gift, and it is my obligation to use all the gifts He has provided.  I hope that I have something of value to say.  I hope that I do not squander even this small talent on self-serving purposes.  For there surely is a need for words that lift.  There is a need for words to inspire.  There is a need for words to remind others of their greatness…their courage…their beauty…and that there is a God that loves them.

You see I can’t change yesterday.  Tomorrow is out of sight.  But today…today is my day…I should celebrate the now!

(456 Words)                  2/28/2017

Caliber

 

By John W. Vander Velden

 

I suspect that each of us wonder what other people think of us.  Not that it is any of our business.  Some might not care, but most, I think, would wish other people to like them.  It’s kinda’ natural, a herd mentality sorta’ thing.  You know, fit in, be accepted, and whatever else, not to stand out.  Trends come and trends go and if we chase trends, well, we are only chasing aren’t we.

Rather, I hope that most of us try to do the right thing.  Not that the right thing is always easy.  Not that the right thing will gain us fame or even acceptance.  But the right thing is the right thing…not that we always know what the right thing might be at any given time.  But the diligent attempt helps to shape us.  When we strive to do what we feel is right don’t we show a consistency to our actions, and a consistency, that in the end, reveals the metal from which we are made.

You see there are many followers, those that chase after people or trends, but there are few leaders.  Not that those that lead always stand out in ways the masses deem proper.  Not that they always stand out in ways that are good.  Rev. Dietrich Bonhoeffer might be a good example.  A pastor in Nazi Germany, he stood against the tide, the cruel insanity that controlled his country.  If you don’t know his story and don’t have the motivation to read it, there is a movie about him.  He is remembered for what he did, and his actions revealed his caliber.

I’m no Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  I do not have that much courage.  But I admire him and those like him that proved their caliber by their actions.  How will I be measured?  I suppose it is wrong for me to wonder.  Is it not enough that everyday I put my best foot forward?  Not because it might impress those that look on, but simply because it’s the right thing to do.  Should I not care about others…their feelings…their needs?  Should I not place others before myself?  That’s a tough one.  We live in a world that tells us to “watch out for number one”, let other guy take care of himself.  Hmmmm….  It just don’t sit right with me.

So I have decided to do what I can, when I can.  Not that it has been easy or will become easy.  But I believe that each person can make a difference…and that means me too.  And to make a difference takes effort.  It also takes sacrifice.  But it begins with caring…really caring.  To see the world through the eyes of others.  That ain’t easy either.  But if I try…really try.  Then no matter how others measure me, when at the end of the day I look in the mirror, I will see a man of caliber…

(490 Words)                   3-29-2017

 

Spokes

Spokes

By John W. Vander Velden

 

 

Even the spokes of a bicycle wheel have their purpose.

We might think the most important part of a bicycle wheel is the tire.  Those of us that have had to deal with flats might agree.  It is the obvious…you know… “where the rubber meets the road”.  The tire seems important.  Life is like that.  There are people that we notice, important people.  How easily we overlook all the others as we categorize the populace.  But if I were to go the store and buy a bicycle tire…just the tire…how far would that take me?  For the tire would be nothing without the tube inside to hold the air.  And the tire and tube would be of little value without a rim to mount it on.  It becomes a “this bone is connected to that bone” kinda’ thing doesn’t it?

That’s the point.  Every part of a bicycle has its purpose…even something as simple as the spoke.  And though I have ridden a bike with a broken spoke, the wobble in that front wheel proved that the loss of even one spoke mattered.

If each spoke matters to a mechanism like a bicycle, doesn’t each person matter to the greater mechanism, the human race?

Life sweeps us along, and we do not notice our place in that grand piece of machinery.  We do our jobs, take care of our families, pay our taxes, just live, and by doing so never recognize our contribution to the larger picture.  We are like bicycle spokes…perhaps unnoticed, but vital.  Each of us has a unique purpose, a purpose that only one person can fill.  Each of us must find what that purpose is…at this particular time.  For our purpose changes during this journey we call life, and we need to accept those changes in order to move ever forward.  We need to recognize our place, not only in our small portion of the world, but in the larger community.  For our purpose must be greater than our own household, our own friends and family.  For we are the spoke and the wheel needs us, and the wheel is but part of the whole world and all that fill it.  Each has a purpose, a need that only that person can fill.

(382 Words)  3-25-2017

 

Lessons Found in Wind and Waves

Lessons Found in the Wind and Waves

By John W. Vander Velden

 

On a cool March morning I forced myself from my warm bed, grabbed a camera and walked to the beach.  The nearly half mile of cool air cleared my head as I saw the color building in the east.  I was not alone when I arrived for others awaited the sun’s arrival.  Oh what a glorious sight to see the orange orb push out of the ocean.  Though it is not so, each of the rare times I find myself witnessing the Atlantic sunrise, it seems that the water tries to keep Sol within its watery clutch.  But the sun is not the ocean’s prisoner and bursts free in glorious reds and oranges.  I hold my breath as, through my viewfinder, I witness a new beginning of another day that perhaps in any other place I would take for granted.  But not here, not at the shore, not among the wind and waves.

I hope that I remember that moment, to hold those thoughts until at last I stand at the water’s edge at first light again.  For I often forget that each day is a gift, something new and wonderful.  And though that was but one brief part of that trip, those lessons may have been the most important I can learn this year. Lessons found in the wind and water.

(221 Words)         4-1-2016

 

 

 

 

Driven

 

Driven              

 

By John W. Vander Velden

 

I believe that everyone needs to be driven.  Not in an automobile, you understand, but pushed forward by a passion.  Each of us needs that “something” to inspire and give us purpose.  Perhaps that is why I write.  I do not write because I think I am a talented “word smith”.  On the contrary, I know that vocabulary and grammar are not my strong suit.  And yet I write.  It is the stories that run around inside my head that demand to see the page that drives me.  

I was reminded recently that I had spent years writing a sequel to Lord of the Rings, as if the four volumes, counting The Hobbit, were not enough.  Numerous spiral notebooks and reams of typed pages formed an incomplete work of more than 1300 pages.  Mostly rubbish.  But within those pages were some reasonable plots.  Asked what I accomplished in all that time, I answered I learned I could tell a story.  That is what drives me forward even today. 

The profession I chose required long hours.  Life’s demands added to my responsibilities.  But a short story entered my mind in 1999.  From it came Tree in the Meadow I passed along a copy to someone I trusted and listened closely to the comment he gave. “It shows real talent.”  Validation helps fuel drive doesn’t it? 

I wrote a draft of 411 Apple Street, my first novel, it took seven long years.  Moments scratched out of a busy life.  But changes offer me more time for my passion, and the words come swifter these days.  Now with drafts of four novels, a novella, fifteen short stories, and more than two hundred essays like this one should indicate that I am driven. But for what purpose.  I have already stated that I do not think myself a “great” writer.  Maybe it is the stories themselves.  Stories that I feel should be told.  It remains my hope that someday they will be read.  I already have a small following that wait for each new story as it leaves my computer.  But I am driven by the hope that in some small way I lift…SOMEONE…just a little…to encourage…to teach perhaps.  That my words add just a match light’s worth of illumination in what seems a dark world. That is what really drives me.  To take the talent GOD has given me and use it in a positive way…to make a small difference. Yes, I am trying to make a difference…that’s why I am driven.  

 

(425 Words) 9-15-2016

The Book of Lasts

 

 

The Book of Lasts

 

By John w. Vander Velden    

 

It seems that first times get all the credit.  A good example is the book kept by new parents.  First words, first foods, first tooth, first steps, important milestones of their child’s development.  And it doesn’t stop there.  No, we always remember the firsts in our life.  The first day of school, our first bicycle, the first time we drove, and on and on. They are important. Firsts are about beginnings, and beginnings are positive.  Its endings we have trouble with.

For me this year has many things I would place in my book of lasts.  A mental record of when changes occur in my life.  As I approach the end of my farming career, I understand that things will change…and I hope that those changes will be for the better.  All spring it has been on my mind that this, my 45^th, will be my last crop.  When I began this part of my journey I would never have imagined reaching this milestone.  Not that I doubted I would live long enough, but rather could not imagine my life with out the tasks that has filled my days all these years.  But now as I stand on the threshold and go through the preparations of closing that door, I take a moment to consider the lasts, the last tillage, the last planting, the last…all of it.  Hmmmm….

         I will not say that I’ll miss fighting with cantankerous anhydrous applicators or wondering when it will or will not rain, but I do not regret the years when things like that made up so much of my life.  No, there was a time for those tasks and I must acknowledge that time is ending.  Even today farming is very physical and I accept my fading strength.  But life is about changes, and constants are not really…constant…are they?  Moving forward means…moving. 

But the book of lasts is not the only record I keep.  For all through my life I have kept note of firsts.  With the closing of this chapter I anticipate adding to that list.  Before me is a very busy schedule, so many things I hope to achieve. As long as I have breath, there will be firsts before me. I plan to set out in new directions for lasts and first go hand in hand.

So next year when I look over another man’s crops growing on my farm, I will understand that it is not a symbol of my labor, my worries, my limited talents.  Those plants will remind me of all my years, of all my experiences, all my successes and disappointments.  I will remember that first year I farmed and all those firsts long past, and consider the first that lie before and not dwell on my book of lasts.   

 

(467 Words)         8-15-2016

Been Thinkin’ About…Fathers

Been Thinkin’ About…Fathers

 

By John W. Vander Velden                          

 

It would seem suitable that June would be a time to think about fathers.  With the holiday approaching my mind has moved in that direction lately.  For most of us Father’s day takes our thoughts to our own fathers…and that’s good.  It is good to think outside of ourselves.  It is good to remember our dads.  Those of us that are fortunate to have had fathers worth remembering in any case.  I was.  But growing up television programs were filled with fathers.  Father Knows Best, Make Room for Daddy, and hundreds of other programs that showed families headed by strong good nearly perfect men. Though there is no “reality” on television…never was…these “characters” did often revel noble attributes.  But they could never be a true measuring stick for men facing the real challenges of real life.  I hope none of us measured our dads against these actors moving about in perfectly manufactured scenes. 

But lately my mind has focused on another father…me.  I wonder, constantly, how do I measure up?  Being a father was always part of my life’s plan.  I’m big on plans…too big.  As I look back I understand that I stepped into the role even before my son arrived.  Now twenty-two years later, I’m still at the job.  There’s no retirement plan folks.  Yet I wonder.  How did I measure up?  For so many years, work’s obligations stole moments my son rightly deserved.  Was I there when I needed to be?  Did I have enough energy to give?  Was I always fair?  Life in our home was different.  I believe each home is a unique environment.  But did I give enough, not things but of myself?

People see my son and tell me I’ve been a good father, as if I could have forced him to become the fine young person he has become.  I remind them that the jury’s still out on that.  I’m not certain that even Nick will have the platform to judge my success, and his character can not be the measure of my inputs alone.  I had a lot of help.  His father might be responsible for his height but perhaps little else.  You see everything about “fathering” was new to me.  Each challenge a first time thing.  It was kinda’ like traveling an “unknown country” with so many events coming and me feeling so unprepared and wondering if I handled them best. 

As I consider Father’s Day and my actions as a father, perhaps it would be wisest to dwell less on what I consider successes and failures, and just trust my heart and continue on…continuing on.  To understand that I am flawed and it is unreasonable to expect perfection in all of my actions.  To trust that love will guide when I stumble along wondering what is best.  To just be…and not second-guess…the best father I can be at the moment…each moment…every moment…and accept that I will be good enough.

So another Father’s Day approaches and I think about my father and the grandfathers I never knew and all those male ancestors to the beginning of time.  I think about effort and sacrifice.  I know that they too had moments of self-doubt.  But I am grateful…so very grateful for them all.  I think about my son.  I wonder if one day he too will make the conscious choice to join the ranks of fatherhood.  Yes, on Sunday, gifts will be exchanged and words spoken and that’s nice too…but…I’ve been thinking about fathers and what being a father really means….

 

(596 Words)    6-10-2016

 

To Be a Mirror

To Be a Mirror

By John W. Vander Velden

 

During my school years I loved physical science.  Perhaps I have always been fascinated with how things work…and science tries to explain that.  I had a wonderful science teacher in 8^th grade.  He pushed me.  Some might not appreciate a teacher that expected a bit more, but I thrived.

It was in his class that I gave one of my first science reports.  My subject, light, was broad and required much work to prepare.  But part of that report dealt with light’s reflection.  If light could not be reflected we would not be able to see.  For the light that comes to our eyes, revealing landscapes, flowers, beautiful face of my beloved, and nearly everything else we see, is reflected.

But when we think of reflecting light we think of shinny surfaces, we think of mirrors.  There are mirrors that make things appear larger, concave mirrors.  There are mirrors that make things smaller, like that odd mirror on the right side of our automobile, convex mirrors.  And there are those funhouse panes that are a blend of both convex and concave that shift and change our appearance.  But by and large most of our mirrors, be they in our bathroom or perched upon our dresser, are flat reflective glass that gives the most accurate, though reversed, view.

But mirrors do more for me than just reveal the spot I missed while shaving.  They can be used to see around corners.  They can make a space appear larger.  They can focus light into a dark corner.  You see mirrors bounce light, and that’s impressive.

It seems to me there are two types of “things”, those that capture and those that reflect.  And that distinction is not limited to light.  So what has this to do with us…you and me?  I believe that we have control over which of those two things we are at any given moment.  We can absorb…take everything good and bad inside, to capture, to hold, to possess.  Or we can chose to me more like a mirror, to understand that the good things we have been given, comes from outside ourselves. To see that we have been showered by good and even bad, but in ways beyond our control.  It is for us to “deal with it”, and the mirror-like deal with it differently than the absorber.

I see love as the light that fills the universe.  There is enough love to go around.  Yet there are those that feel the need to hoard love’s light, to be the black velvet drop cloth grasping and holding every ray of love that dares to come near.  Desperate, they fear to be shortchanged.  The world around them is colder as the murkiness of a space that surrounds a Black Hole.  But those that reflect God’s love light, shine sparkling bright, their love, reflected, warm others nearby.

It is my hope that I, at least most of the time, am a reflector.  And my wish for you…is to be a mirror.            (505 Words)