Serve by Design

Thank you, friends and family members for regularly checking in on this blog site. Since you already know how to access the site, please indulge me for a few minutes of explanation. Blogging has been around for a while now, but I want to revisit a little history. You may want to visit wikipedia  for a fuller discussion, but this is my shorter version about this communication tool. Google bought Blogger  in 2003 from Pyra Labs that had been founded in 1999 by a couple of young techno-nerds based out of San Francisco. Since then,  Blogger has given millions of individuals an easy way to share their ideas. This is a free publishing service and I choose not to clutter it with any advertisements. While I welcome any readers and their comments, I assume that most who follow this blog are connected to me relationally and professionally. So, I regard this site as a conversation with friends. These are logs and not blogs! 😃 The term, blog , may seem a little strange....

While the football season is heating up this fall and major league baseball is in its October playoffs, basketball is on the minds of many aspiring athletes. Two of our grandsons, Klayton and Danny, have already begun practicing and shooting hoops with their y-ball teams. I spent time getting our home equipment ready this past week. The goal underwent a cursory inspection of the pole, backboard, rim and net. And the balls needed some extra air pumped into them for the Sunday after-lunch practice and play session. There was a lot of enthusiasm and some "trash talk" going on as several grand children and their parents were taking their first shots of the season. I said to Danny on the way home from school this week, "I sure wish Uncle Vernon was still around to put you through a series of ball-handling drills that would have you crying out, 'I'm tired!'" 😏Uncle Vernon, Monique's brother, passed away four and half years ago, but we think of him often a...

It has been nearly three months now since my mother's death on July 17, 2018. At birth, she was given the name, Beverly Joan (pronounced Jo Ann) and was born to H. Lloyd and Marguerite Pocock Stanley in Nokomis, Illinois on September 1, 1933. To my knowledge, mom was never called Beverly and she would be known by her middle name, Joan. Naming children is an "imperfect science" and is always done for personal preferences. (I am named after my dad, Joseph, but my parents shortened my middle name to simply Joe). It is still hard for me to write these words about mom's passing, but I know that this is the new normal and reality for my family and me. In these last years, I have been interviewing and recording some of my parents' memories. I'm writing an anecdotal history of our family's business. Joe's Auto Repair opened in December 1961 when I was just a ten-year old boy. It has been fun and now, therapeutic, to write about some of the rich experiences I...

Now, where is that burger? I think the expression is "falling through the cracks," but this is a picture of how a burger fell through the "grates!" The setting for this mishap was this year's July 4th gathering with family and friends in Pawnee. Marlon, Marc's father-in-law, has been gracious to host this tradition the past few years. I have become the designated "grill master" for the occasion. I'm sure this assignment fell to me in order to keep me busy. As you know, I am retired now! The burgers to be grilled this day were of the "high-end variety." Monique's brother, Phil picks these up made-to-order from a meat locker in Mattoon. Some are plain while others are exotic! Jalapeno, Chili Cheese, Hawaiian, Dill Pickler, and Mushroom Swiss to name but a few of the varieties available. I try to handle these half-pounders with care, but accidents happen. Just as I was moving some of them to higher heat, one slid off the spatul...

My Dad has been sharpening my lawnmower blades for years. He still can take a dull blade to his bench grinder and in a matter of minutes put a razor sharp edge on it. This is the interaction of bringing the rough surface of the grind or whetstone into proper contact with the metal edge of the cutting blade. The end product can be seen after the blade is bolted back to the mower's underside and the first run up the lawn has taken place. Looking back, one can see that blades of tender grass have been evenly cut so that the lines of each pass have a certain attractive symmetry to them. A keen eye is always able to detect when a blade is sharp! In the Bible, this process of "sharpening influence" upon another is applied to friend-to-friend communication. The writer to the Proverbs says, "As iron sharpens iron, so man sharpens another" (27:17). The Bible has numerous examples of friends encouraging friends: David-Jonathon, Ruth-Naomi, Jesus-Peter, James and John,...

Landscaping Rock - A "Burden" to Carry! Diameter: 4 ft. Weight: 100 lbs. Monique and I were traveling this past summer to visit the kids and had a connecting flight through one of the airports on the way. While walking down the Jetway to board, we were engaged in a vigorous discussion and I blurted out, "That's not our concern!" At that moment, a young lady following us giggled and said, "You two are just like my parents!" We're finding out that the older we get, the more attention we are drawing to our discussions. That should give us pause! I'm not even sure what that conversation was about, but it seems that I felt free to say that we were not going to get involved in the matter. Now, understand that I have fashioned myself as a "fixer" or "problem solver." But with these passing years I have found this to be more wearying and am increasingly reluctant to take on another problem to fix. I do know, however, that th...

I saw a neighbor lady’s disappointment recently. As I was driving by, she had just reached into her roadside box to retrieve the daily mail. Her expression was displeasure, if not disgust. She evidently hadn’t received what she had been anticipating. I could identify with her feelings and fallen countenance. I miss first-class “snail mail!” I admit to being old-fashioned. It comes with getting old! “Back in the day,” has become my mantra. It bores my grandchildren and some of my peers as well to hear me start off a conversation with those four words. I can remember getting real mail. I long for those hand-written notes and even letters that used to come to my post office box. Hey, I would be glad to even get some of the type-written varieties today! It’s not that I lack for communication pieces. Like many in this digital age, I do get copious amounts of text messages, emails, push notifications and social media postings each day and sometimes every few minutes! As one of my pr...