Are You Paying Attention
I just started to read a book titled Crowded in the Middle of Nowhere by Dr. Bo Breck. It’s an amalgamation of stories of his life as a veterinarian in the West Texas town of Lamesa. His stories are gathered from his lif experiences. He began by sharing with others by writing a column for the local newspaper. Dr. Bo talked of his youth while living with his granddad (Papaw.)  A phrase that resonnated with me was “I quickly realized that I was not paying enough attention to every day life, and it set me on a lifelong mission to discover how he perceived the world. I will be forever grateful to Papaw for loving me and teaching me to see the special moments that happen right in front of us every day.”
How many days do we struggle to get through the chores and tasks that are expected of us? How many times do we slog through the hours of each day looking forward to the gosl of finishing the shift? How many times do we wade through each day looking toward the weekend? We often forget to look at what is happening around us right now. We often pay little attention to the small miracles that slide by us every day. We miss so much when we lose the ability to enjoy what we are doing or lose the ability to recognize the small things that brighten our lives, or when we look inward at ourselves instead of actually noticing the world as it spins by. I try to share recollections that have happened in my past or that are happening now in my life. Sometimes thinking of what to share on my BlogSpot is difficult.
Our church has an intern spending eleven weeks as he learns the duties of a Pastor. He’s from Ambassador Bible College in Lattimer, North Carolina and arrived last Monday. He has been getting settled into our guest trailer that we cleaned and stocked some foodstuffs until he learns the layout of the area. He’s learning the names of the congregation, and what happened Sunday morning surprised me. When I met him, I only gave him my first name. Bur at the beginning of the service, he said, “Brother Beck, would you open the service with prayer?”
I had no idea how he learned my last name. I was flabberghasted. My daughter Anna learned how he made the connection. He met Anna Wednesday evening. She mentioned that I was her father and my name. It was just a small incident, but makes a good story to share, almost as good as the Popeye the Sailor Man ring tone and the misionaries to Greenland.