The Caring Catalyst

Who Cares - What Matters

A Never Ending Wave

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Q U E S T I O N      O F      A      L I F E T I M E :

Is it easier to to

S     T     A     R     T

a  R i p p l e

or  to

S  T  O  P

a  R i p p l e ?

Psssssssst:

The only true way to answer the question is by

H   O   W       Y   O   U       L   I   V   E  !

.    .    .  w   e   l   l

H O W

L I V E

Y O U ?

Are you making a

S           P           L           A           S           H

or

D          A          M          M          I          N          G

the  Flow.      .      .      ?

If   you’re   not   soaking

you’re     dry     rotting.

NEVER

LET

KINDNESS

END

WITH

YOU.  .  .

Here’s to making your next kind act, your greatest

y       e       t

but

not

your best to come.       .       .       .

Is it easier to start a ripple or stop a wave?

How     Live     You ?

Pretzel TWISTED

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Pretzel’s are good.

Warm, freshly baked Pretzels at the Mall are the Best

u          n          l          e          s          s

they

or something about them are

T          W          I          S          T          E          D

Back. . .way back when Mall’s were very popular and the obvious place to be,

I would take my daughter to just walk around on Friday’s while we waited for her sister to be done with school.

It was always good for a cheap toy and a nice, warm pretzel.   .   .

and a really contorted act.

We were walking around the Mall, throwing unwanted pennies into a fountain, buying annoying noise making plastic objects and yes. . .a nice warm, salty pretzel.

I tore mine a part like a savage discovering food for the very first time and nearly digested it even before I had fully eaten it in blink-of-the-eye quickness.

My daughter, Angie had barely taken a few bites and as her loving, caring, overly compassionate father, I asked if she would share. . .if she would give me a bite of her pretzel.

She didn’t think it was a good idea.

I play cried and told her how her daddy bear didn’t have any porridge that day and how he needed his Goldilocks to have a heart and   s h a r e. . .how sharing was a really good, kind thing to do.

She didn’t think it was a good idea.

I play acted Igor Mutalutz with my hand–the hungry fun-spider-like animal that liked little girl’s uneaten donuts, candy and pretzels.

She didn’t think it was a good idea.

As my stomach growled something not human like, I pulled out all of the stops and used one of the go-to tricks parents sometimes have to resort:

G       U       I      L       T

“Hey. . .who bought. . .who gave you that pretzel to begin with?”

She didn’t think it was a good idea. . .but it worked.

She handed over most of her soggy, mangled up pretzel.

Guilt and Fear    sometimes  comes dressed as

L     O     V     E

but it’s never fits right and rarely is tailor made.

She has never brought this up to me. . .I’m not sure she remembers. . .if as she reads it now. . .

but I do.

I remember. . .

and the memory snapped my head around

the other day when I saw a big, bad bear, Igor Mutalutz, guilt/fear wielding father remind his daughter who, in fact, had just bought her a six-nugget-not-so-happy-meal.

Y’OUCH !

Some memories are best to be left forgotten whatever’s below the basement where there’s always a bin, a bag or an album of pictures you’d rather never have been captured. . .

some memories don’t feel good experienced the second, fourth or ga-zillionth time.

Ever done anything as

T W I S T E D

as   a    pretzel.   .   .   ?

Ever done anything to

un – t w i s t   it?

Hmmmmmmmmm. . .might be time to make another memory. . .

a not-so-twisted one.

Pass the mustard.   .   .

P L E A S E

I’ll share–really–

H                      E                      R                     E

Un-Jingled CHANGE

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s o m e

say that you know it’s really

C       H       A       N       G       E

if   it  doesn’t

J          I          N          G          L          E

The Nobel Prize in Economics has been awarded to Dr. Angus Deaton for his studies on the consumption, poverty and welfare.  Dr. Deaton is a professor at Princeton University.  In accepting his award he has noted that,

“There’s a real moral urgency to understanding how people behave and what we should or might be able to do about it…Life is better now than at almost anytime in history. . .more people are richer and fewer people live in dire poverty. Lives are longer and parents no longer routinely watch a quarter of their children die. . .I think inequality has gone past the point where it’s helping us all get rich, and it’s really becoming a serious            threat. . . .“

Hmmmmmm of the Day:

Could it be that Dr. Angus Deaton actually is a true

C A RI N G   C A T A L Y S T. . . ?

No. . .

not because he really can distinguish the difference between

Dollars and  S E N S E. . .

Not because he’s a brilliant Economist. . .

Not because he has just won the Nobel Prize. . .

Not because he knows at its best 1 + 1 = much more than 2 ever could. . .

but because of Dr. Deaton’s

C   a   r  e

. . .what he does with his

C   A   R   I   N   G

is a real

C A T A L Y S T

to

C  H  A  N  G  E

. . .the kind that never quite Jingles in your pocket

but can’t help

r          e          s          o          u          d          i          n          g

in your Heart.

That we all might be such a

caring catalyst

is such a jingle that could forever fill

our pockets

and our

h     e     a     r     t     s !

Broke D O W N

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When’s the last time you’ve been

B   R   O   K   E       D   O   W   N  ?

No. . .

I’m not talking about the last time you blew a tire

I’m not talking about the last time your battery quit battery-ing

I’m not talking about the last time the Alternator stopped Alternating

I’m not talking about the last time when you blew a Radiator hose

I’m not talking about the last time your water pump stopped pumping

I’m not talking about when you pushed it and ran out of gas.  .  .

I’m asking,

When’s the last time you’ve been

B    R    O    K    E       D   O   W   N ?

.     .     .When you’ve read something

.     .     .When you’ve heard something

.     .     .When you’ve watched something

that actually Broke You Down ?

I’m pushing a very dangerous limit here.

According to a recent study from Microsoft Corp., we now have an attention span less than a Goldfish

(Talk about getting Broke Down)

The study reveals that we generally lose concentration after about eight seconds, which seemingly highlights the affects of an increasingly digitalized lifestyle on the brain.

So. . .maybe somewhat foolishly. . .

I’m asking you to watch a five-minute-thirteen-second video that was suppose to be a social experiment of how long it would actually take someone to stop to help a motorist who was broken down on the side of the road.

It took over two hours and then the person that actually stopped.     .     .

W          A         I          T.     .     .

S                 T                 R                 E                 T                 C                 H

Your Attention Span by five-minutes-and-five-seconds and get

B  R  O  K  E      D   O   W   N

to become more

whole

than you could ever possibly be on a Monday Morning in any other way.

And. . .

CONGRATULATIONS FOR CONCENTRATING LONG ENOUGH

to make it through the video and this blog posting.  .  .

maybe the berm

has put you well onto the Road again.      .      .      .

And if you would like to help a not-so-broken-down-ONE to become more whole you can contribute to:  https://www.gofundme.com/xbmt3w

When The GIANT EAGLE Ascends

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It was a busy Saturday morning. . .in an extremely crowded Giant Eagle Grocery Store.

It was just a quick,

GET IN, GET OUT 

kind of an excursion.

(Aren’t they all?)

I went in and got a couple of gift cards and two greeting cards and then. . .

got in a long, a very long 10 items or less line.

There she was,

THE   GIANT   EAGLE   ANGEL

She had a basket full of things. . .many different

E  L  E  V  E  N       T H I N G S

and then it happened. . .

She looked at what I was holding in just one hand and said,

“Sir, why don’t you go in front of me.  I’m in no hurry and you just have some gift cards.”

I, protested at first and told her it wasn’t such a big deal, but she insisted and so,

NOT  TO  INSULT  HER

I took her up on her offer and thanked her profusely.

. . .And then,
B     A     M

IT HAPPENED.

I told her she had done her good deed for the day and that’s when she shared with me that this had nothing to do with her  good deeds so much as her

C A T H O L I C     G U I L T

I joked and asked her if she was blaming The Pope on her good deed

and she joked back and told me it was more of the Nuns than The Pope.

I thanked her again for her

good deed

generosity

kindness

fear

guilt. . . .

It made me think about me

It made me think about you

It made me think about us

What ultimately makes us do what we do?

Are the reasons

P     U     R     E

or

Tainted ?

Was this about some kind of weird guarantee of getting a small spot in Heaven

or

Not wearing Asbestos underwear for Eternity?

SHOULD’S  =  GUILT

OUGHT’S  =  FEAR

HAVE-TO’S  =  GUILT/FEAR

WANT-TO’S  =  RAINBOW’S/POT’S OF ENDLESS GOLD

Some kinds of Choices, huh?

What do you Choose. . .

Or

What really CHOOSES YOU?

Can and Act of Kindness

just be an

A C T    OF    KINDNESS ?

(It Can.    .    .until.     .    .it CAN’T

Hmmmmmmmm of the Day:

Sometimes the higher The Eagle Ascends, not only the Closer to Heaven,

BUT  the Bigger the Splat of the White Stuff that always finds your Windshield. . . .

IF  YOU’RE  HELPING  SOMEONE  AND EXPECT  SOMETHING  IN  RETURN

IS     IT 

B U S I N E S S

or

K       I       N       D       N       E       S       S

?

The Un-Sung Song

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What’s worse?

The Un-Sung Song that never gets heard. . .

The Sung Song that never gets Experienced. . .

You don’t have to be a Member of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir

It’s Not just have a Song. . .

It’s Not just Singing a Song. . .

But most of all

Just Share. . .sharing YOUR  SONG

Watch Your Note actually make a Difference

In the Scale of Someone’s Life

We all have a Song

Not so much to be Sung or Heard. . .

But

S H A R E D

E  X  P  E  R  I  E  N  C  E  D

Bring Your Music

to the Person in need of a Tune

Bring a foot to tapping

A face to smiling

A Heart to a different kind of Beating

And a Soul

to a new understanding

of a Caring Catalyst

It may start out as a timid Solo

but watch how the Voices join in to make the most awesome of Choirs

. . .and then Experience the Difference it makes in you

and the One it Transforms. . .

A One and and Two and a Three. . . .

Your Maitre D

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It seems like the time before Biblical Times ago, but it was only about 30 years. . .

I was the Associate Minister First Christian Church, in Washington, PA, a 1,5oo member church with an average attendance of 350 folks each Sunday.  My chief job was being the Youth Minister and Pastor of Visitation.

I had three big youth groups, two of which met every Sunday and a pre-junior high group that met every Wednesday afternoon.

I was a busy man.

At the end of the School year I made sure that we celebrated the graduating Seniors of the group and took them out to dinner. . .

But. . .not just any kind of Dinner

The group was always around 15-20 kids and this is where it would get interesting.

We loaded into cars and drove to one of the fanciest restaurants in town and, mind you, we were dressed in our bests to represent that special evening.  The young ladies had on their best dresses and the gentleman, suits and sport coats.

We all peeled out of cars and vans and walked into the Restaurant with everyone talking about what they were going to order.

I had one of the most popular guys go to the Maitre D and tell them that we were there and were ready to be seated.

The look on their faces is still one I’ve never forgotten as they stood there, shocked, when the Maitre D and then the Manager came over to tell them that there were no such reservations that had been made.

Ooops, My Mistake. . .

We all piled back into the car and repeated that same scene at two other very nice restaurants in town and now the natives were not only embarrassed but a little perturbed, to say the least.

As were piling into our cars after the 4th incident, one of the kids said something about this whole evening being

b   o   g   u   s

and we’d be better off just going to McDonald’s.    .    .    .

And wouldn’t you know. . .

that is exactly where our cars went. . .right into the parking lot of our local McDonald’s

Reluctantly, these hungry kids got out of the cars and walked into the McDonald’s and saw what they had never. . .ever seen in any McDonald’s before. . . and never. . .

WILL  EVER,  NEVER  SEE  AGAIN !

There was a string quartet from the local W & J College playing classical music

There was four tuxedo’ed Maitre D’s

There was linen table clothes

There was Candlelight

There was Sparkling Grape Juice in really nice Sparkling Wine Glasses

There was a McDonald’s Buffet of everything they made in plenty

There was Memories that were being made that none of their minds would ever forget

. . .or. . .or mine.

I’ve always had a personal, fervent belief that it wasn’t ever so much to tell, hear, show, taste, smell a message so much as to actually  E  X  P  E  R  I  E  N  C  E    O N E !

So. . .when was the last time?

When was the last time that you actually  Experienced  a Message?

Uhhhhh. . .when was the last time you actually gave such an Experience?

I’ve found that the absolute best thing, without a doubt,  about such Experiences:

Is Giving. . .Having

The very next one

unexpectedly. . .

o f t e n.

Water Pumped

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Sometimes the water from another’s Well might not be any colder, but it sure does taste better. . . .

Have you ever tasted it?  Ever felt it go all the way down your throat into your stomach?

Jimmy Pettit was one of my friends.  We lived a hundred miles away from each other, but not on weekends.  On the weekends we both went to our summer camp grounds–our families had one room cabins with two bedrooms and a small bathroom.  There were about 10 camps in all and his was just across the gravel road.

He was respite for me from my two brothers and my sister and I gave him a reprieve from his brother.

Buddies. . .Pals. . .Friends. . .Idiots. . . .

We’d swim, fish, hunt and hike together.

It was one, long, hot hike on a sunny morning that turned into an afternoon.

Instead of walking along the creek like we had done hundreds of times, we decided to go up unto the hills to do some exploring.

How thirsty have you ever been?

It wasn’t getting hungry that was the problem…it was the I-hope-I-see-an-oasis-mirage-before-I-blink-my-eyes-thirsty.

What I did see, was one of the best things I ever laid my eyes–even to this day:

An old fashion water pump

Seriously. . .you ever use one. . .have you actually ever drank from an old water pump?

H      I      N      T :

It takes at least two to really get a drink from the old standing water pump out in the middle of nowhere on the edge of an unkept farm house.

It felt like my arm was going to fall off.  I pumped and pumped and pumped and pumped and. . .

. . .and then it started coming out in a cold, long, wet stream. . .and it never stopped, as long as you would keep pumping.

I’ve often thought about that as a metaphor for my life

                                                                                                  when I felt like giving up. . .

                                                                                                  when I felt responsible for my grandfather’s death

                                                                                                  when I had to miss a basketball season with bad knees

                                                                                                  when I went away to school

                                                                                                  when I got married a week out of college

                                                                                                  when I went away to Seminary

                                                                                                  when I became a dad

                                                                                                  when I began at my first church

                                                                                                  when I got divorced

                                                                                                  when I ran 7 and a half marathons

                                                                                                  when I got married again

                                                                                                  when I became a hospice chaplain

                                                                                                  when I self-published books

                                                                                                  when I became a grandfather

                                                                                                  when I became a professional speaker

                                                                                                  when doors closed and windows wouldn’t open

                                                                                                  when I. . .

I remember pumping water that day. . .I remember working hard to get the water to come up deep from that well and just when it didn’t seem like it was ever going to come out. . .there. . .there. . .it was.

I didn’t have to pump as hard after that, but I had to make sure, especially after all the hard work to get it flow, I didn’t want to stop. . .didn’t want to start all over again and I didn’t as long as I kept the long, steady stroke of bringing that glorious water forth.

Jimmy drank first from his cupped hands and then he let it pour over his head and finally laid upside down and let it pour into his mouth, his throat. . .

. . .and then. . .and then. . .it was my turn.  I did the same thing. . .I drank and let the water run over my head and finally just laid underneath of it and let it fill up my mouth and run down my throat, too.

We took turns, getting drenched and drinking our fill, all the time, making sure the water wasn’t going to stop flowing;

The Secret:

 We never stopped pumping. . .getting soak. . .drinking

The Lesson:

We needed each other to quench our thirsts. . .our truest Thirsts

The Hope:

We may all be Water Pumped

The P E A C E of Cake

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H E Y

YOU CAN’T HAVE YOUR CAKE AND EAT IT TOO!

Really?

We’ve all heard the phrase, haven’t we…

have we REALLY Wondered about it, though?

The phrase is most often used when it comes to making Compromises, doesn’t it?

It highly alludes to making a choice between two possibilities that could never be reconciled.

The Russians say,

YOU CAN’T SIT ON TWO CHAIRS. . .

The Germans say,

YOU CAN’T DANCE AT TWO WEDDINGS.

The Yiddish adage:

YOU CAN’T SIT ON TWO CHAIRS WITH THE SAME TUCHIS.

Come on, the proverb literally means,

“YOU CANNOT BOTH POSSESS YOUR CAKE AND EAT IT”

because once the cake is eaten

IT IS GONE!

Maybe. . .maybe it can be used to say that we cannot or should not have or want more than we deserve or can actually handle. . .

OR

should not try to have incompatible things. . .

O R. . .is

IT

ALL WRONG?

Will you allow that possibility?

The best way to have your cake and eat it too, is really simple.

I just saw it the other day when we were out to eat.

A couple were finishing their meal with a piece of cake…

They were SHARING IT.

One Piece of Cake.

Two forks

Quiet Conversation

Deep Soundless Looks

ENDLESS MEMORIES

RIPPLE ME UP, Scotty.

A RIPPLE can never fully be measured or Counted. . . .

The PEACE of Cake

Makes my Mouth, Water. . .
Makes my Soul, Gush. . .
Makes my Heart, Vibrate. . .

Yours?

THE PEACE OF CAKE. . .

Join me.

No Forks or napkins necessary. . .

JUST YOUR HUNGER!

D E N I E D

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13_05_13_no_communion_hand1

It was a pure act of Love

It was a pure act of Generosity

It was a pure act of Compassion

Stolen
STOLEN
S T O L E N. . . .

It was several years ago.

I was visiting a patient who was actively dying. Her family was out of town, trying desperately to get back to be with her before she died.

I was sitting beside her bed and I was reading

(PRAYING)

the Rosary for her which was in her hands.

She was completely unresponsive and just as completely comfortable and managed.

While I was Reading the Rosary on her behalf a lady came to give Communion to the patient I was seeing and her roommate.

We had met before. She had come to a workshop/presentation I had done at that nursing home,

A PRIEST, A RABBI AND A MINISTER CAME TO HOSPICE.

We greeted one another and after she had given Communion to the roommate, she came over to the foot of the bed of the patient I was providing simple presence.

“I don’t think she’ll be able to receive Communion today. I think she’s readying herself to take her final journey.”

“What about you,” she asked?

“ME?”

“Yes. You. Would you like to receive Communion?”

“I’m afraid I’m not able to because as you know I’m a Protestant Chaplain.”

“I didn’t ask you if you were able,” she said, I am asking if you would like to receive Communion on this Good Friday?”

What she was offering I had never been offered; never had to consider.

Honestly, it wasn’t her WORDS, her invitation, it was the look in her eyes as she offered.

LOVE FILLED.

I honestly believed at that moment, to REFUSE her offer would have been a wrongdoing;

A SIN

She Extended the Host to my Mouth

I humbly accepted.

Hours later, I went back to the office and shared the story and was severely chastised by a colleague, a fellow chaplain, a Eucharistic Minister who demanded to know the name of the person who had extended such an outrageous,

SACRILEGIOUS

G I F T

so she could be reprimanded and stripped of her duties of being a Eucharistic Minister.

It’s taken me a long time to learn the lesson

and I learned it painfully many times over

but I actually didn’t say anything to the remarks…

I didn’t respond or react at the attempt of

ALMOST BEING ROBBED OF SOMETHING SACRED FOR SOMETHING SORDID

BUT I THOUGHT

I THOUGHT. . .

D E N I E D

(I won’t be)

It happened several years ago but

I Remember. . .

I Remember well

(just as instructed)….

Communion isn’t what you Eat or Drink. . .

It’s what YOU DO.

A lesson LEARNED

is only half Accomplished…

When TAUGHT–

fully COMPLETED…

Completed in me
Completed in you

Communioned in ALL

DENIED

TO

NONE!

Professional Speaker, Author, Assurance Man