This past Saturday John McCain pulled a mild surprise when he took South Carolina. He must not be considered the front-runner without question. This is unfortunate because if he is able to parlay his early success into the nomination, the Democrats will be firmly in control of the White House and Congress come November. That also bodes ill for America when it comes to the third branch of Government, since there are Justices simply waiting for a liberal to be in power in order to retire. What a sad and awful spectacle that suggests for our great country. And how real. God help us!

And yet that may be what God is doing -- helping us to receive just want so many have asked for, for so long. Getting what we deserve... "Even so, come, Lord Jesus" [Revelation 22:20b].

As a large part of my political self is interested to see how the next Republican primary/-ies will unfold I'm going to set aside my desire to write about the type of candidate I'd really like to see in this dog and pony show -- a la "If I were the candidate..." -- and move onto something different.

This past Saturday I visited a co-worker in the hospital. She in her thirties, too young for the problems she's having, especially some heart trouble. She was hoping to be discharged Tuesday, and then face an undetermined amount of time for recuperation, which will also include having her gall bladder removed. Only time will tell how long she will have to be out of work.

I tried to keep the visit relatively brief and light, including the delivery of six pages of blonde jokes to raise her spirits, some "M & M's" for her kids when they next came a calling -- later that day, in fact -- and a flower from the gift shop. She seemed genuinely pleased and a little bit surprised at the visit, but glad. We had a nice little visit and then she got a phone call, and while she was on the phone her father arrived. After a few pleasantries I decided this would be a good time to take my leave -- though neither of them made me feel that way -- but frankly with her being as ill as she's been, it seemed to me one of the best thing for her is to spend time with her Dad. So I took the opportunity to pray with them both, and just before leaving I proffered one more gift, a Gospel of John, noting that I have often found comfort in God's Word, and hoped she would, too. And, sincerely, I hope she reads and finds the hope I have.

I've been praying for her, and will continue to do so. I'd appreciate your prayers for Lisa, her health, her work situation [hopefully not being out of work too long], her family -- especially comfort for her young daughters -- and for her salvation as well.

My plan for the rest of the day was pretty simple. From the hospital to downtown proper is about a 10 minute walk, so I planned to walk downtown, especially to visit the main branch of the library, and then hop a bus home.

The walk downtown was uneventful, save for the brutal cold which swept in from the west. Miles north of us the wind brought in several feet of snow, but here in Syracuse it only brought bitter cold. But it was sunny, too, so it was bearable enough.

On the way to the library I stumbled upon the local pro-life rally in observance of the horrendous anniversary of Roe-v-Wade and Doe-v-Bolton. I say stumbled in part because I had forgotten this was the weekend for such activities, and also because I frankly didn't know this march was planned. Clearly it was organized by the local Catholic diocese, and had a distinctly Catholic flavor to it, but it was also clear that any friend of life was welcome to join them.

I decided against staying and joining in the march because I didn't know how long a time they had planned for it to go on, and I really did have some things to take care of, so I listened to some of speeches and clapped with the rest, and then continued on my way to the library to finish the errands I had planned. As I left I wondered why more evangelicals weren't in the forefront of events like this. I wondered why I wasn't. And, no, I don't have any good answer.

It wasn't long before I made it to the library, and signed up to use a computer. I had a little time to kill before my reservation so I went and found a book to check out. I began reading it to be sure I wanted to borrow it, and then it was my time to be on the pc. I got done all I needed to, and then was preparing to leave when I saw an old high school friend, Walter.

Walter's worked for the library all these years, and for the police department, too. He does some computer work for the police, and general customer service the library. It was nice to catch up a bit with him, and I invited him to come hear me preach the next day [for the evening service] at my home church where I would be filling the pulpit while my pastor was guest speaker at a church pastored by a friend of his. Walt said he'd might come, but I suspected he wouldn't. However, we did exchange phone numbers, and I look forward to being in touch with him in the near future.

I also once again gave him a tract and hoped he would read it, and heed it.

Coming out of the library, I phoned home to update my family on my progress, and it was getting a bit late so I decided I would try to find a bite to eat before coming home. Strolling the main street in search of meal stired memories and thoughts.

It had been a long time since I spent any significant time downtown. I walked the long city block from the library to the main bus intersection, got a schedule for the bus I was planning to ride home, and then tried to figure out where I could go to eat on a Saturday afternoon. Many of the lunch places that are open during the week are closed on a Saturday.

I quickly decided that it would be nice to take home some carmelcorn -- from the landmark Carmelcorn shop, of course -- and headed in that direction. That's one place that hasn't changed in so many years, one of the most comforting things about downtown, because so much has changed.

As a boy I can remember the many downtown department stores, stores which truly had distinct departments and knowledgeable salespeople who made a career out of the fine art of selling. I remember the Woolworths with it's bi-level shopping and lunch counter, Dey Brothers, Sibleys, the K-mart I was arrested at for shoplifting [another long story -- mostly I was a troubled youth who made a misguided attempt to get some attention], and several other stores.

As I grew, the downtown landscape changed. I remember how the stores seemed to move out slowly, yet all at once. There's an office building there which now houses a radio station, right off the main square where so many community events are held each year, currently featuring the Christmas tree and community creche [which was the subject of a federal law-suit some years ago and now stands protected because of that suit!]. It's also on the site of the fountains in the warmer weather months, which double as a skating rink at this time of the year. Saturday was so nice as to attract a good number of skaters, too.

But that office building had once been a mall, and I remember shopping there, thinking how neat it was that someone tried to bring a mall to the heart of the city. There's still a mall there, sort of. It's anchor is the library, and it used to have a lot of shops and a food court. Now the food court is gone and most of the shops, replaced by mostly office space. But it's still a good use of a building, I suppose.

I remember the old library, still standing and being used by some group I can't remember why. What a great building, put up by Andrew Carnegie. Just like the one in Fulton, though Fulton's is smaller, but still used as a library. Oh, the wonderful architecture cities hold.

Perhaps some of my memories were stirred on the walk downtown, passing by our museum. I remember visiting there frequently in my youth, and thinking I should take my kids one of these days. And one of these days I shall.

I passed the skating on the way to the sub shop I recalled seeing downtown, only to find it was closed on Saturday. Getting there necessitated me passing the old Federal Post Office. What a grand structure! I still remember as a boy visiting there to conduct postal business [ie: buy a stamp and mail a letter, like duh!]. Ah, memories, sweet memories.

I was getting frustrated and hungry at this point, when I noticed two door down from the sub shop a pizza joint. Thank the Lord! I got some good char broiled wings and some loaded fries, and then off I went, back-tracking to the main bus stop for my ride home.

On the way there I passed the newspaper building, which holds memories of my time when I was involved in the newspaper club -- it's sponsored by the Boy Scouts but for the life of me the proper name simply escapes me right now! -- and what things I learned there.

Waiting for the bus brought back memories, too. Before I had a car, and when I worked downtown, the bus was it for transportation. We have a very good bus system here, very much on time and dependable, and rather affordable all things considered. It's hard to reconcile now how I really survived on the bus, but I did, and when I did it was just fine.

It was still brutal out waiting for the bus, but finally it came. The bus line I would ride home on once upon a time has been discontinued by the transit company, but the one I rode home came close to it. And as I sat on the bus waiting to go home, and then in the going home, my thoughts turned to my brother. Years after I grew up and had a car and was more or less self-sufficient in that respect, he still relied on the bus as his primary way to get around. In fact, he just got off a bus moments before he dropped dead on that June day when he died.

My thoughts turning to him, stirred up a whole new set of memories and thoughts, and more than their fare share of sadnesses, too. What a hard life he led. How I did not appreciate my brother or demonstrate my love to him sufficiently. I didn't help him enough either. The many ways I was not a good brother.

I know some who know me and knew him might protest and try to make me feel better, noting how he was so proud of me, and loved me, and appreciated the help I did give him, and always spoke of me, and spoke well, and so forth. And that would all be true, yes. But so would all the memories and thoughts which came roaring back to me, and overtook me on that bus ride home.

Getting to my stop, getting off, and walking the block or so home gave me a chance to collect myself, and get mentally prepared to move forward with the rest of my night, allowing my wife to get out to see her mother [who is doing rehab in a center after a brief hospital stay due to problems she's had with her legs], to take care of the children while she was gone, and to get some work done on the sermon I was to deliver the following night.

Ah, that sermon! I know it was the Word of God, and I know a few were moved by it sufficiently to go to the altar, but I also know that it just fell a bit flat. I don't mean to degrade the Lord here, nor presume I knew everything it might have done in people's hearts. But when you do something visible for the Lord, like teach, preach, sing a special, and so forth, you ought to want to do a good job for His sake. I tried, but perhaps I tried too hard, and perhaps it was too long, too. Not perhaps, it was, maybe by 10 or 15 minutes.

And as soon as it was done I realized all that I could have said and done differently. Maybe I'll bear that in mind should I be given another opportunity to serve the Lord in that way.

And, all of that is another story not worth sharing for now. Thanks for letting me vent about my adventure from this past weekend, and thanks again for stopping in, for giving me a few moments of your time and attention.

Until next time, my blessings to you,
Timotheous, a brother in Christ

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