Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Sadie's thanks

It came out of the clear blue.

My wife, Roxy, told me to go to Facebook and see what she wrote.

It’s been over a day and I still haven’t been able to reply. The lump in my throat and tears in my eyes make my mind go numb and no words will come.

Because this is big. Better than my book being a New York Times Best Seller.

So here, in this space, little by little I’ve pecked away. One letter at a time—deleting most, and keeping 
some—to try and say, what I’m feeling today.

Thanks, won’t cut it. It’s too small.

Because, accomplishments measured by ladders climbed or medals won or letters tacked to the back of a name don’t matter at all, when placed side by side to something like this.

But to know, that going for a bike ride, untangling a fishing line, sitting on the sidewalk and drawing with chalk…or doing nothing at all, but spending time, are the things that make a difference—the things that stand tall.

I’m overwhelmed.

Sad for all the times I missed.

Humbled that God allows the honor of this.

The thing is…the great things, the eternal things, the important things, are the things, we all can do.

Sunday, May 17, 2015

Adjuster’s Life—it's more than that

It’s not for everybody
That’s true
Staying up late
Getting up early
One eye on the weather channel
One hand on the suitcase handle
Always ready to go
Cuz you never know
When or
Or for how long
You just know, you gotta go
Like a cowboy's call to a rodeo
Or a Fireman’s call to smoke

You don’t do it for the money…
Well, some do.
But a real adjuster knows
It’s really more than that.
It’s being there when the smoke clears to offer a ray of hope
Shaking hands
Hugging necks
Saying prayers
With and for
Those who survived
And all the things they call natural disasters…even though there’s nothing natural about a person’s world being turned upside down.

The unseen destruction above every policy limit, is the stress and worry and fear that blows stronger than any storm that ever blew them in.

It’s more than a paycheck—more than just a job.
It’s a rescue mission.
It’s a people business.

It’s saving the message
From the man who called
Months after the storm—so long you’d all but forgotten.
How you stood in his ram-shackled kitchen

His heart broken beyond what writing an estimate could repair.
Surrounded by color crayon pictures his daughter had drawn
His quivering voice echoed off walls once filled with laughter, back before the storm, back when that broken down house was a home…back before dark clouds settled and sent mother and child running from it all.

You remember how he walked down the hall and tenderly touched the pictures of his wife and daughter.
How he told of spending every Christmas together, in that house.
How he didn’t think he could handle spending one alone.
He said, thanks, when you told him everything would be okay.
He wiped his eyes and couldn’t speak when you told him you’d pray.

And then, months after it all

He called.

He’d saved your number. Remembered your name. The money was spent. The repairs were made.

But that wasn’t the reason for his call.

His voice held that same quiver, but this time it wasn’t sad. He laughed as he said his wife and daughter were back home and he just wanted to say thanks, because after that day in the kitchen when you offered a kind word, and told him everything would be okay.It changed his life, his heart, gave him hope.

Because, it could’ve been different.
It wasn’t what he’d planned.

The revolver was loaded and sat in the drawer of the night stand. But you offered more than just help with the restoration of a house—you offered hope for the restoration of a home.

So now, every now and then, when the days get long and the nights get short, and it seems every person in the world has turned to greed. You click through the messages and find the one you need. The smile in your heart returns, and you remember the reason why you do what you do, when you hear that shaky voice say,

“I just want to say thanks Mr. Doug…it’s gonna be a great Christmas after all.”

(first posted at Cat Adjuster Stuff )

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

She asked God how to get to heaven, and He said...

“You wanna hear my dream, Papa?”


“Well, I dreamed I asked God, how to get to heaven.”

Her eyes got real big and she pulled in a deep breath. “And He said, ‘Make yourself into a cross.’ ”

She went from sitting to standing on her chair. “So I went like this—” she held her arms out straight by her side and stood as tall as she could and closed her eyes—“and I flew straight up into heaven.”

Then, my eyes got real big.

“And I saw a really, really big house.” Her smile grew wide and her voice went soft… “And I saw Jesus.”

She told us more. I just don’t remember what it was. She kept talking but my heart was stuck back on that precious smile and the way her voice went soft when she uttered the words…“And I saw Jesus.”  

Even now, as I write these words, I feel Something. Maybe you do too, as you read. Like a chill…but not a scary-like chill, but an excited one. Like the atmosphere being charged…with HIS presence.

Like the Creator of all the universe, The Savior, The Answer, The Way, The Truth, The Life, The Answer to all my problems, The Cure to all my ills, The One who loves me like no other, like Jesus The Christ…just walked in the room.

Or maybe, like He's already here, just waiting for me to notice.

Is. Always. Right. Here.
 And, I’ll see Jesus.

Out of the countless hours I’ve studied His Word, out of the thousands of sermons I’ve heard preached…the best, I think, have come from the heart of a child.

Thanks for the visit,