GIVING GOD ADVICE

"Behold I stand at the door and knock" ~ Revelations 3:20

It's not like we've locked Him out, its more like we've pulled Him aside to give Him some advice. "You see Lord, Your Gospel and methods just aren't working, and in our opinion there are three good reasons. 1.Your methods and Gospel are outmoded, 2. Out dated, and 3. Have become irrelevant. As a society we've moved on. Your methods back then may have worked for Peter and Paul; but look around Lord, it isn't working today. Now that we have your attention Lord, what would You suggest?"

We need your "help" on this. We're willing to help Lord but things have to change.

Indeed, is "help from us" the problem ... God lacking our help? Since when has God needed man's help? Could that be the problem? Man integrating himself in God's Divine business?

Remember, way back, God created man ... we didn't create God. gods yes, but God no.

God's Gospel of grace was totally a God thing.

The creation of the Church was totally a God thing.

The Holy Spirit is a God thing, a Divine phenomena. God and God only power!

God will work through what He chooses, or whom He chooses. God and man, or God and angels for that matter are not co-equal! God and man have never been partners in a joint venture, God just doesn't work that way. Where do we get the idea that God and man are involved in a joint venture of spreading the Gospel and planting His Divine Churches?

We might best sit in the beautiful shrine of an empty cathedral and reflect on ... why God has failed in His quest to advance His Gospel throughout the world. Reflect on why the Church hasn't grown? The deadness and smell of death in the Cathedral should give us some answers. The tower of Babel or beautiful cathedral in all of it's beauty both smell of man.

Man has done his best only to find he has contaminated he very Gospel he preaches, God came to save and change man never to partner with man.

Could it be so simply said: God's desire is to work "through" man, never "with" man! ... or God, forbid, "for" man!

LET THERE BE DOGS

I live in San Diego, in a big collection of middle class Townhouses called Canyon Rim. From my kitchen window I watch the dog walkers. A growing number of these couples are opting for pets not children. I'm glad, very glad to see this growing parade of doggies. (I've only seen one cat being "walked" and that was a hopeless exercise in futility!)

In my opinion, today, having a pet become the third person in the family is a wise decision. Biologically today's adult couples are qualified to create kids, however in my opinion, rare indeed is the couple today that's qualified to "parent" their child, or God forbid, "children" to mature adulthood. Buy a pet!

I know most every woman at one time in her life wants a "baby". Unfortunately, every little baby grows to be an adult. Parenting a baby to become a healthy mature adult is expensive, demands time, and competence.

CAUTION: Young couple ... buy a pet!! And you can continue your life of "recreational" sex.  A pet can be loved as much as a kid and in many cases more than a kid.

Here's an impressive list of reasons why pets may be the right choice for you. Seriously consider the following ...

• Pets don't require a college education.
• Pets don't cry themselves to sleep when they find out mom and dad are divorcing ... That's for the rare couple that bothers to gets married.
• Pets will never turn out to be a teenagers that you can't manage.
• Pets won't mind going with "daddy" one weekend and "mama" the next!
• Pets won't be influenced by your hypocritical behavior.
• Pets around here in California are not male or female, they are neutered, so they won't end up horny fruit flies. Dogs and cats are a happy liberated California Unisex!
• Pets won't get into drugs or join a gang.
• Pets don't require expensive shoes or clothing!
• Pets won't demand their rights ... or say NO!
• Pets are always under your control. In your house or leashed so they won't be "hanging" together on the corner at one A.M.
• Pets don't have to be taken to school activities.
• Pets will be happy with a bone for Christmas ... try that with your teenager.
• Pets aren't into expensive clothing.
• Pets can eat once a day!
• Pets medical expenses will be a little less expensive.
• Pets won't be needing a telephone or computer.
• Pets won't surprise you by turning out Gay, transvestite  or bisexual ... they are a happy unisex.
• Pets don't need the Internet.
• Pets don't get addicted to porno.
• Pets can spoiled and not make you feel guilty.
• Pets are loyal no matter how cruel you treat him he won't divorce you! ... in liberal California children can divorce their parents.
• Pets will never turn out to be a gangster, you won't be visiting him in prison.
• Pets won't steal from you to support their habit.
• Pets may mess up your floor or bed, but they will not mess up your life!

CAUTION: In my opinion, today's He and She together in a comfortable bed should have some serious "pillow talk" BEFORE creating a child. Today creating a child is optional ... undoing a twisted adult isn't.

My advice to today's young couples; plan on getting a pet ... don't create a human life only to end up screwing it up!

Just some advice from an old man who has seen too many screwed up young people here in America and in Tijuana.

IN THE OLD DAYS ON RADIO

The announcer would say something like this "Good morning to all of you there out in "radio-land". I guess today it would be proper to say, "good afternoon to all of you out there in "Cyber-land." A mystical advanced land of higher electronics. Another e-mail message.

It's true, we as a ministry do struggle to get investors, partners, and for good reason, we invest our income in helping the worthless, the non-productive: what's known as society's human debris. Unfortunately this society lays a corner or an alley away from violence. Someone needs to touch the untouchable.

According to God's Word someone needs to be doing it and we're willing to be that someone.

I remember this comment too well, it was in my early years starting work with the very poor in Tijuana. The setting was a Saturday Prayer Breakfast. A Deacon of our Church came over to me. "von, why do you work with the poor in Tijuana ... they're just like a bunch of rats, you keep feeding them and they'll just make more". It shocked me at first to hear a "man of God" make a comment like that ... unfortunately, I don't get shocked any more because more people than I realized feel that same way about the adults and children in my world.

Just a little cyber reminder that we're still out there loving on God's forgotten people in Tijuana's untouched world. Care to join us?

SIMPLY A VEHICLE

I drive an '04 vehicle. I've spend a lot of time and many miles in this vehicle. My vehicle takes me where I want; it goes where I direct it. However It's simply a vehicle. To be sure, my vehicle is not me; we are attached only in the purpose of transport. My vehicle serves me. I'm inside my vehicle yet we are separate.

Not hard to understand.

I see a similarity in life. My body (flesh) vehicle and me; we make quite a pair. Indeed we are very close. "Until death do we part."

My flesh body is not me; it's my God given vehicle. It's my temporary earthly vehicle, my onetime and onetime only, vehicle.

My body of flesh simply exists to serve me ... to please me and fulfill my needs and desires. To do my dictates.

My body is temporal while I'm eternal. My body is flesh and blood, while I am Spirit. My body has been given a life-span while I am a forever being.

When I became born the second time. I received the option to donate my vehicle to God's use for His purpose, or to continue running it for my own pleasure. For me that decision was a struggle. At that point I made a choice. God, you can have my physical body, it's yours for your purpose and direction.

Many years have passed and as old as my vehicle is, I'm still committed to doing what I can, where I can and with whom I can ... as long as I can. Von is under God's control.

When all I can do on earth is done. When the last chapter; the last paragraph; the last sentence; and the last word is written of my life, all will be followed by a comma, not a period.

Just moving on ... Earth becomes a memory ... eternity becomes reality.

HAMBERGERS: NEXT TO HEAVEN!

"Do you mean it Von, you'll take us to eat hamburgers!?!" All five wanted hamburgers more than anything else. So we picked up the elated young crew and headed to a new Carl's Jr. for hamburgers!

Kid food and personal attention. I asked them "when was the last time you guys had a hamburger?" They quietly thought and thought ... no one could remember having eaten a real Hamburger and gotten all the soda free ... this was a first time adventure and it was fun to watch! (Expensive it was! $70 plus but worth every $)

"Hey Von, will they have hamburgers in Heaven?" ... "Tonio, I don't know!"

I had planned this occasion for a reason, to get with each boy separately while the others were in Carl's Jr. Kids Play Room. Each boy needed attention badly. Too young to have fighting parents ... Not the time in their lives for father to split and leave them for another woman. Not the time for father to go back into drugs ... one boy with no father lives with his violent and mentally handicapped mother and crippled aunt. Each of these kids need to know God loves them and that we do too ... and we'll stick with them!

Hamburgers and sodas took them away from reality for a few happy hours. I'll assure you, these kids will remember the time of their first hamburger ... a life time memory!

Yes, these boys can use your prayers!

OK ... this is just one of a hundred ways in which we spend your money.

Thanking you!!!

ANOTHER INVESTMENT IN THE WORTHLESS

Two weeks ago in Mexicali, a government old folks home burned down killing 17 and injuring 26 of their people. Enter inspectors investigations and bureaucrats. Now all old folks homes in Baja are to be inspected and updated.

The Government gives these inspected old folks homes not money, but two months to comply with Fire Safety or they will be closed down.

Of course these old folks are on the edge of death any way, but laws are laws, regulations are regulations and indeed safety is very important.

Translated: Chuy is suddenly hit with a big bill!

Pastor Chuy let me know of this morning, and with 150 oldsters he's rightly concerned about where he's going to get the money to upgrade the home. It's a package of about $1,500. Quite a challenge.

When I say "worthless" it elicits mixed emotions, these oldsters contribute nothing to society in fact they now depend on society.

God loves each of these old people, although I can't speak for His Children ... we haven't much but we're going to pitch in.

If you want to send some help Chuy's way ... On your check write Pastor Von (Place stick-em note with Pastor Chuy's Old Folks Home.) and mail to:

Pastor Von
1043 Emma Dr.
San Diego CA 92007

ONE DARK NIGHT

I've been thinking of the Titanic lately. A long ago tragedy. Where everyone aboard thought their ship, the Titanic, was invincible, after all it was the biggest and best ship in the world.

Invincible It wasn't.

The last voyage. The proud Captain wouldn't listen to the warnings of the disaster ahead. He took no corrective action. A fatal indecision! (The Captain ordered the turn to avoid collision 15 seconds before colliding.) Too late.

Lessons we must learn.

No ship is invincible. No Country is invincible! No man is invincible ... sorry Superman!

It ALL went down. They ALL went down. The Captain brought them all down with himself.

The very rich went down with the poor.

The good went down with the bad.

The strong went down with the weak.

The innocent went down with the guilty.

The celebrities went down with the nobodies.

Only a pathetic few were saved.

SYMPTOMATIC RELIEF

I've heard this term since I've been a child. I think I heard it first on radio. This pill, that ointment will quickly bring relief to our symptoms ... headache, sinus congestion, burning, itching, whatever.  Ah, "symptomatic-relief."

It seems we in America have become obsessed with relieving our "symptoms".  Pharmacies and drug stores continue to add "over-the-counter" medicines so we can deal with "symptoms." Now for cures or solutions we are told to go to the Doctor. To the M.D. to get an RX.

Politicians are elected to deal with social problems by finding solutions or cures ... but politicians, being what they are, would rather deal with easy, cheap and politically correct, "symptoms" than difficult and costly "Solutions." Laws are written and re-written dealing with our social ills. Politicians will consistently kick the problem down the road (A game we kids called "Kick-The-Can".) It seems today no one will dare define the real problems, consequently no solution is offered ... back to "symptomatic relief" from a cheap sugar coated bill.

It's plain to see that Uncle Sam is old and sick. The America that was, has noticeably declined. Biblical influence has declined radically; character and moral ethics have followed resulting in a stinking immoral cesspool of problems. The Church as a whole is diluted and many are deluded.

The symptoms of immorality, anger, hate, violence keep building. Lets face it our "Symptomatic-relief-pills" aren't working any more, and because Christ is the solution, the political price is too high ... much too costly. Christ, God and the Bible form a trinity that is the sure cure, but not politically acceptable ... on to the search for more sugar coated pills to alleviate the ugly pain of our diseased society.

DRUGS, I HATE THEM!!!

Drugs permeate my world. When my people can't take it anymore, They don't turn to the Lord, they turn to drugs. How I hate Satan and his drugs. Drugs can take a man down so fast. Drugs can change a loving mother to a full on selfish greedy user.

Lupe used to be one of the kids I counted on, he was a dedicated Christian and bilingual. What potential. He was accepted by the street kids which gave me an in to the gangs ... the "malandros" or (wild) feral teens. Those were days I saw a lot, I learned a lot.

Lupe started spending too much time with his friends and he caught the disease himself. He was ashamed to level with me. For months he became the great pretender ... He is still the great pretender believing his own lies.

Since my time with Lupe, I've learned a lot. First fact, you can't trust a user. Mother's, Father's, teens using drugs will do anything and say anything to get your favor and your money. We have an alcoholic mother with three sweet kids, we can't give her money for her kids ... she will use it! With a drug user, and alcohol is a drug, drugs come first, your children come second. She will drink the money up and worry about the kids later.

Years ago, on a cold Christmas Eve, we planned on giving the children of one poor family several nice new warm blankets, before we entered the shack several neighbors took us aside and explained that we had better use caution, Father was a user and would probably sell the blankets to get drugs. He had his three older girls out prostituting for his drug habit. We gave the kids their blankets but we first cut the blankets up so they wouldn't be sale-able. And walked out of their little house of hell. To this day it's a house of hell !

A user lives day and night in a dark hole of guilt and shame controlled by an addictive substance ... the bottle, pills, syringe, spray paint, or glue bag of fumes.. Drugs, Satan's made to order elixir, indeed a high; but a very temporary high followed by a permanent low. Under the influence you happily slip your hands into Satan's hand-cuffs. You are no longer your own.

THE BANANA FAMILY

Hortensia has two gifts, one is easy conversation and the other; a gift for sensing poverty. Yesterday she spotted a family outside the big CaliMax market selling old bananas and tomatoes. They bought them at the big fruit market for a very low price and taxied them to this location to sell. The over ripe items, they sold very cheap, but made very small profit considering paying for the taxi.

She began talking with the mother and father. It seems they had come up to Tijuana from south Mexico to find a better life. Their three children crossed the street to meet Hortensia. Mom and Hortensia continued with the conversation ... it seems the family had put up their little shack on some vacant property along with sixteen other families. We would call it homesteading. This worked O. K for a few weeks. BUT ... the situation got bad.

The owners of the property came and gave them all two days to pack up and leave ... then they put up a barbed wire fence around the property. Everything, everyone, out.

Two big problems, they had no place to go, no relatives in Tijuana also they have to move by taxi ... see the photos.

The next day we would be working in Barrio Invasion. So Hortensia invited the family to join us in the big barrio day, and even helped find them a new location where they will reassemble their shack ... and gave them a little of your money to get them started again. Just another, honestly hurting family.

Father is grateful yet he has his pride, he really doesn't like to be given charity!

We will follow up on them to see how we can help.

FIGHTING OVER AN EGG

I was on the phone tonight with Hortensia, she was giving me a rundown on the day, when our phone call was interrupted by a family in barrio Pedrigal. "Hortensia, we have no food." Yes, it's been a bad day for this family of six. No food; and in the afternoon they were actually fighting over one egg. One egg. The neighbors told us of the quarreling. Well, they somehow got hold of some rice and a little salt, put it together with the one scrambled egg. A meal for six?

Tonight the call came again, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing ... hence the second call for food from the same family. Dad's out of work, Mom is angry with a hot temper.

All this trouble comes as a consequence of inept parents and their poor decisions. But what about the kids? What do we do about the hungry kids?

It's 8:30pm. Hortensia will grab a cab and take food over to this family, which includes a little two year old girl and her fourteen year old mother ... along with two teen boys.

The poverty right across the border is embarrassing. Like America, Mexico has plenty of potential, and money but it's in the pockets of the corrupt politicians.

Tomorrow I'll take some prized "Luxury" food items across the border to barrio Gardenia ... Foods that are far too expensive for them. Peanut-butter, wienies, turkey-ham, mayonnaise, catchup. Tomorrow we will have a drawing for about forty mothers with these items for prizes. Oh yes, and prizes for many of their eighty kids.

It will be a joyful day because we can help over forty very poor families. They look forward to this HAPPY DAY once a month. Each week we're at one of our four barrios with this Happy Occasion. Thanks for making it possible.

Thanks for your prayers and help.

FOUR KNIVES

These aren't just four knives, they're not knives at all ... you don't peel apples with these. A switch-blade is a small quick and quiet weapon. At different times different kids have given me these stickers because they weren't going to use them anymore. PTL! Each with a story.


One afternoon I was in the city and on a little rather isolated hill there were three partially burned out houses. A handful of street kids using drugs adopted the area and lived in the empty parts of these old houses. I called this area "Campamento Cemento. (Camp Cement) These street kids would be huffing glue in a plastic sack and it sustained a 24/7 mellow high. A high on cheap rubber cement.

I was up there one evening when a kid about sixteen came up to me "Hey, Von, would you check my back, I got hit last night." And he pulled his shirt up. I didn't really know what he meant or what to look for. The boy was pretty well stoned. "What do I look for?" I asked him. "Last night a guy hit me with a blade." I looked around his back and found where he had been stabbed by a switch blade. A little slit in his skin, less than an inch wide. Fortunately the wound didn't go deep enough to tap into his lung. I told him this was serious and that I would take him to the hospital. "No way, he said!" "Well then, I'll bring our doctor up to check it out." "NO! NO DOCTOR!!! You do it!!!" All the kids were standing around watching the show.

I always carry a small tube of antibiotics with me, along with a topical fungicide. So I moved the slit in his skin around until I found the puncture in his muscle, then I squirted the antibiotic cream deep into the hole. I put some cream on the skin slit and that was it. He was stoned but managed to thank me for "fixing him."

Yeah, I hate these switch-blades ... at least these four blades aren't being used any more.

PRAY!!!

Look! Look!!! There's the harvest! Don't you see it? It's there for the taking ... But, where are the harvesters? They're nowhere to be found. "Pray to the Lord of the harvest, that He might send harvesters." (Matthew 9:38) Indeed, it's 2015 and still the nagging question, where are the harvesters?

Last Sunday, a lady about my age was frustrated, "I can't do anything anymore. I'm getting old" ... My sister you can do plenty by praying for harvesters.

A thin handsome boy about 14 was buzzing around me like a fly ... He looked at me smiling. In my conversation I asked him where his father was, he looked down and shrugged his shoulders ... "I have no father." I asked him about his mom ... same shrug; "I don't know where she is." I hugged him and said "I'll make you my son, OK?" He looked up and smiled again.

Several years ago I was spending Christmas Eve at an orphanage in the mountains outside of Tijuana. Watching the kids dig into their presents ... I asked a black teenage boy sitting silently thinking, "Roberto, if I could give you any gift in the world ... what would you want?" He replied rather quickly ... "I want to meet my father." I found myself in a rather awkward position. I knew what he didn't know, Roberto was found one night as a newborn infant on some beach near Tijuana.

Things like that hurt me and to tell the truth, at times I feel rather lonely ... who else gives a damn and why should I? This painful question nags me ... Excuse the old age pity-party! "Who else gives a damn and why should I?" I could be in Calcutta India, or Haiti or Manila in the Philippines ... and I would echo the same question. Where in the world are these harvesters? ... and where are the prayer warriors praying for harvesters?

I shouldn't feel lonely, many of you do care, you do pray for me and support me. You do care and I'll try my best at being a father or grandpa to these hundreds of kids.

MY SECRET TO LOSING WEIGHT

The secret to how I keep so trim. True it takes a little discipline. In fact on most days I eat only breakfast and lunch, on two days I eat only breakfast. I noted that prisoners of war working many hours a day existed on only one meal a day. Conclusion? We don't need much food. Many thousands of people go to bed hungry night after night, a few nights of hunger hasn't hurt me. So my stomach shrinks a bit, that's O.K.

The secret is a black and white photo; a photo I treasure. A photo I found years ago; the most impacting photo I have ever seen. This photo like none other orients me to reality! For years I've had this photo on my refrigerator and in my bedroom. The more I study it the more impressed I get as to the margin between us haves and the have nots. Indeed I have actually visited places where people exist between a thin line of hope and fat vultures. Places where every day existence competes with death. It's true, there are those places.

I've traveled the world; I've seen and smelled poverty first hand; in Africa, India, Indonesia, Philippines and other countries in South America ... even here in Tijuana. Sights, sounds and smells I find hard to experience again.

This photo is, in part, why I changed my life-style. What others do with their lives is not my business, but pardon me; I'll continue speaking for the poor.

I'm not going to be wise and select only what I consider to be the righteous poor; a true widow and her seven kids, but like Jesus, I will demonstrate grace and compassion by giving to the foolish poor, the deserving poor living out their painful consequences of sin. (Jesus and the adulteress woman, Jn.8:5)

The little child in the photo in a short time went to his true father In heaven, he's joyfully there where there is no hunger ... the buzzard waited patiently, had his meal and flew away full.

I can't afford the luxury of forgetting that photo and the thousands of other hungry children ... born to die hungry.

Second helping? No thanks!

HAPPY, HAPPY, HAPPY NEWS!!!

I figured that if I had a Happy blog ... a positive blog ... one that would turn endorphins on ... more people would tend to read my blog. A positive blog! La-La Land stuff. I heard a simple little chorus one time, with two simple words. “Happy, Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy, Joy!” The theme song of La-La Land ... and their resident president, Sponge Bob.

I realize I don't resonate with my La-La Land friends. As far as I know La-La Land isn't open to realist's. And worse yet, I'm not politically correct. The high fence around La-La Land prevents them from seeing the ugly truth of poverty, and their sounds of laughter and singing muffle the cry of the hurting. In the First Church of La-La land they too praise god ... better yet, the money all stays in the bank ... the first federal of La-La Land!

Yep, I'm a realist ... born in a real world in the worst of years (1929). Born dirt poor. Yet I'm not a pessimist, but from what I see and hear it's not easy to become an optimist. It's not a matter of endorphins, it's a simply a matter of truthful reality.

I've traveled the world; I've seen and smelled poverty first hand; in Africa, India, Philippines and other countries in South America. Sights, sounds and smells I find hard to experience again.

As I said, I'm a realist. I know I can't do everything any more than I can be everywhere; however, I can do something somewhere for someone, and my somewhere is Tijuana, a few miles down the road from where I live.

Forgive me for expressing my passion for the poor. They can't speak for themselves so I'll do it for them. Forgive me if my reality offends you.

NORTH OF THE FENCE

Our two worlds are so far apart! Living on the North side of the fence we don't know how hungry they are in rural Tijuana. I thought that this might bring reality into view.

If you think our dollar is shrinking, and it is. In Mexico where ten pesos to the dollar was the going exchange; now it's fifteen pesos to the dollar. Their peso is shrinking even faster than our dollar.

Yesterday Alex and Brandon were sent up to the little store to buy breakfast for the family of six. Mother gave them a few pesos. "Don't go to the close store where the eggs are 4 pesos; go to the one up the hill where the eggs are only 3 pesos each." The boys were to buy three eggs, two wieners and a few tortillas.

Breakfast: Chop the wieners up and add them to the scrambled eggs. Presto! Breakfast for six! For six??

Can you imagine buying one egg at a time, or just one wiener or only three tortillas, but that's quite common among our people. You simply buy what you can afford. Can't stock up as there is no refrigeration.

Thanksgiving for most Americans is eight months away, but for those of us who are aware of our blessings; we must thank the Lord every day for His blessings ... thank you, Lord, for a box of one dozen eggs!

MY FLOWERS NOW?

Many of you who have read my blogs and understand the nature of my ministry, realize my small four-wheel drive SUV is essential to the ministry. We go to the needy (they don't come to us.) We work where the needs are. We are, (as in most ministries,) dependent on wheels.

The other day I took my Nissan Xterra (SUV) in to be serviced. Fast. Simple. Inexpensive! Things were fine UNTIL they lifted up the car up and looked underneath at the rear frame, I learned a lot. The mechanic said..."This car was in an accident before you bought it ... and it isn't safe to drive!!!" I went down to look at; he was right ... The 120.000 miles it has are hard miles. Oh boy more expenses ... and now a rental car!!!

I sought counsel from several of my supporters, and with one accord. "Von, change vehicles. Get an SUV that's younger and has less miles." They said that they would like to see me in a more dependable car. Well, I can't argue about that ... although, I'm content to continue with the old one and see who out-lives-who.

Having friends check out SUVs ... it looks as if a Subaru Forrester would do the job. Consumer Reports rate it as the best value.

Now to pay for it I'll need faith and friends; plenty of both. We've scraped together half the cost. (PTL!!!) This will be my last car ... if any of you would like to beat me to my funeral ... I could actually use your flowers now!

Send me an e-mail and I'll tell you how. My e-mail address is egvont@aol.com

Thanks!!!

GIVE ME MY FLOWERS NOW!

We'll call him Carlos, I've known Carlos for many years. The other day in Biarro Pedrigal he came to me asking for some money; it seemed his mother had just died and he needed money to buy her some flowers. I said no!  Carlos' mother had for several years stayed in an old folks home not more than two miles away. She died there. Not once did Carlos visit his old mother living a short distance away. Not once did he give her a flower or a kiss, but now that she is dead, he was tearfully begging for money to buy her some flowers. Too late Carlos! She's gone. Your love and flowers are simply  ... too late.

Why is it when our friend or loved one dies, then we pile on the flowers, tributes and elegant eulogies. Beautiful music, expensive casket! Why?

The honoree is no longer at the service!  He left the building! Really.

I don't think it's so much pragmatism as just simple common sense. FACT! I'll appreciate the flowers and tributes only while I'm alive. When I'm gone what's the point??  Why pile on a ton of expensive flowers and a sauce of platitudes piled over a lovely casket ... that contains the one who was, but is no more?

A simple gravestone ... a simple statement, should be sufficient.  Prince or pauper death is the final equalizer of the rich or poor.

When I die, no flowers please, or hearse carrying an expensive casket ... put that money where it's really needed by the living poor. While the show of respect may impress the living ... the very object of that show of love and respect ... "has left the building!"

Giving your friends and loved ones their flowers now makes so much more sense than an expensive salute to their memory after they're gone.

YESTERDAY

Our Barrio Ministry Days are anything but routine, similar maybe, but never routine. There is always laughter and happy-highs but on occasion there is a place for anger and sorrow. I was providing showers for about thirty boys and I noticed a new boy. He was about twelve years old. I noticed something I didn't like; in fact it angered me. Two reddish and swollen lumps on his lower abdomen. His testicles had not descended and now they were swollen and hurting bad. I called for his mother and she came. I asked her if she had ever seen a doctor on this, and she said she had some years back and the doctor said it was okay and in time they would drop! Foolish and ignorant doctors anger me! This boy was hurting and now the special surgery to drop these into his scrotum is going to cost big dollars! Please pray that we can find a good pediatric surgeon in Tijuana. His mother, a widow with three kids, and cleans houses for a living can't afford the cost of a procedure this sophisticated ... and we can't simply say, God bless you and we'll pray for you. We have to do something, and fast.

A photo would tell the story but would not be appropriate.

We stopped in to Sandra's small house. She had asked for a big stroller so she could push her crippled boy around. We visited her and her boy ... Andres. Andres is twenty-four and has the body of a five-year old. I sat on the bed watching him. He was deformed physically and mentally by meningitis when he was a baby. Again, a picture just wouldn't be appropriate. She mentioned he needs a little heater too, as it gets so cold at nights. His father works at the dump and comes home with a little money every weekend. Sandra? Well, she sells old clothes; she lays the cloths on the side of the street in front of her house hoping someone will buy.

We see so many legitimate needs, and SINCERELY, thanks to you, we don't just pass-by.

On the surgery, we'll somehow pray the money in.

WILLY THE CLAM

Willy was no different than the thousands of other clams along

The Mission Bay shoreline. He was a middle age clam living a rather tranquil life. The only stress he came across in his quiet life, was low tide ... now somehow clams in Mission Bay area know that at low tide danger hovers over the shore line looking for clams and of course Willy was in the line up along with his friends. The fluttering shadows of Seagulls above him made him nervous ... and there is nothing like a nervous clam.

Well, yesterday it became Willy's turn! A sharp eyed Seagull spotted him, and zoomed down catching Willy in his claws. Willy the clam never had an experience like this. Very rare for clams to fly! Up, up, up he went ... and then the Seagull suddenly let go. And now Willy was on his own hurdling down, picking up speed, faster and faster; faster then he had ever gone before. The Seagull following.

Thrilling ride indeed, but it didn't last long. Willy's courage was commendable: didn't scream, (clams rarely do.) He simply tightened his shell for the inevitable ... and he hit the concrete hard. Splat! His small life broke in pieces.

The big seagull stood there eating the best of Willy. Early morning clam cocktail, leaving the shell of what was Willy on the concrete to dry out and be swept away.

Up, Up and away the Seagull flew over to the shoreline again, You guessed it; looking for another Willy.

It's True: Mission Bay, in San Diego, has some intelligent Seagulls. At low tide they find their clam, fly about 70 feet up and over the cement walk-way, then drop the clam. When it hits the concrete it breaks apart and presto! Breakfast!