2014

I am not sure how it happened but somewhere along the way our boys grew up. 

They used to be these cute little kids and now they are grown men. I'm not saying that is a bad thing but there seems to be a consequence involved for me in that process. I got old. Now when I see a picture of us together I realize I am the short guy. When the 6th grade Bible class was studying the Exodus, we learned that Moses was 80 years old when he led the Israelites out of Egypt. I asked the class if Moses was younger or older than I am when he was sent to Egypt. They actually had to discuss it. A few thought I had to be older than 80. Some thought I was just in my seventies. Others said they were sure I was just 62. Why oh why was there no one saying I am sure you are just 40. OK, reality check 50 is in the review mirror but still 62 or older? Especially those kids that thought I had to be older than 80, they might be getting a lump of coal in their report card for the 2nd quarter here at Christmas time.



 Although I will have to admit I might have failed a little in the last 10 years. We went down to Menards to pick up 9 interior prehung solid core doors for the house we are remodeling. I had bought them on-line and when we received notice they were at the store we drove on down one fine evening thinking we could just present the load out sheet and be merrily back on our way home. Oh yea, that was going to happen wasn't it? First we went to door number 9 and waited until someone found the time to acknowledge our presence. Then I waited while an employee walked up and down the warehouse aisles looking diligently for our doors. Sharon was staying in the pickup where it was warm while I was out in the cold. I felt you would all want to know that fact so you could truly understand how much more I was suffering here than she was. Finally the dear employee searching so diligently for the doors asked a supervisor if he had seen the 9 doors with Royce written on them. "Oh yea I bundled them up and put them on a pallet this morning they are just around the corner over there" was his reply. Wow my hope soared now. Now we are just minutes from loading a pallet of doors with a forklift and heading down the road home.
The employee who shall from this time forth in this blog be known as Turtle due to his incredible speediness, climbed on a forklift and drove around the corner. Minutes past, more minutes passed, a half hour passed. I heard someone's intercom go off with a request for help and it sounded like Turtle's voice. More time passed and then this little Hispanic guy wandered off around the corner. About 15 minutes later here came the forklift at a crawl with our doors. No longer on a pallet but leaning precariously. The forklift came to a slow stop and Turtle disappeared.  Now I know all of you who know me are thinking to yourself, it is a good thing that Royce is a patient man or he would be going absolutely crazy by now. The little Hispanic guy picked up one of those doors and just hoisted it over his head and put it in the pickup over the side of the box. He had to be at least 5 foot tall and weighed, oh, 125 on a heavy day. Even though I am extremely patient, I thought I would just grab the next door and put it on the pickup to help speed things up a little. You remember that little guy putting the door over the side of the box of my pickup? Well I got the next door almost up to waist height when I realized the door I had picked up must be a lot heavier than the one he had loaded. That door was not going any higher and I felt like it was about to go down to knee level, when I got one end propped onto the pickup bed and could kind of shove it in on top of the one already loaded. That was when I decided that if they could not get their manufacturing standards to the place that all the doors weighed the same light weight as the first one must have, I was not going to help them out by loading any more. Especially as every door had to go a little higher.

I don't know if you can read the abstract below but if you can, take a look at the numbers.

I was really bummed when we picked this up after we had written a check for the house. Instead of the amount we had offered, I would have been willing to write the check for the amount the abstract shows the judge directing the executor to sell the house to us for.  Fact is, it kind of disturbs me that I might have gone against a court decree by paying too much for the house. That would be against the law, right? Sure, sure it could have been a typo, but one can not be too careful in following the dictates of judges.

We had an evergreen tree die beside our house this summer. When we had one die a couple of years ago I started to cut it down but just, well I hate to admit it but in the end I chickened out and brought in a professional to cut it down. 

Not this time. I was determined I was going to bring that baby down. I will admit I did feel Sharon could have been a bit more supportive. She kept asking me if I was sure I wanted to cut it down. Kept mumbling something about it hitting the house or maybe landing on me. Ha, my motto is "have chain saw will try anything once". I notched that tree and had it figured out exactly where it was going to land.

Except it didn't. It did this little twist as I cut it off the stump. It didn't fall so much as just lean into another tree. I don't understand. I notched the tree. Looked up to make sure which side the tree leaned toward. Had it all figured out that it would fall in the clear about 30 feet to the west. It was at this point when Sharon became very supportive of my tree cutting ability by asking if I was sure I didn't need to get some help. Not me, I had this one down cold. Of course every time I would cut off another 4 foot of the trunk and say a prayer that when it dropped again it wouldn't land on me, it would just land a little more perpendicular. Pretty soon I had that sucker standing just about straight up again caught in the neighbors tree. By this time Sharon was almost doing a little dance of excitement in celebration of my prowess.

All's well that ends well. I finally got a rope on that baby and pulled him over. Funny thing is I ended up exactly 180 degrees from where I had intended it to fall, although that does seem to be a common refrain in my life.

We have a three legged deer who spends a lot of time in our back yard. After she lost her leg, I am assuming by leaving a dent in someones car, she looked pretty tough for a while. A year ago I was riding on the bike trail below our house when I was stopped by a neighbor and asked to call the police to get an officer out to shoot the poor ragged thing. My response was "I don't think I want to call the police to come shoot a deer." He looked at me like I was some idiot tree hugging nature lover and said " If I had my rifle here I would nail it right now." When I mentioned that we were in the city limits and shooting firearms was frowned on, I think all I did was reinforce his opinion that I was some lefty liberal nut trying to curtail his rights to blast anything anywhere he had the desire to do so. He told me that he will shoot whatever he wants in the city limits. By this time I was edging backwards and hoping to just get down the trail and away. Oh silly me, that didn't happen. He said "Give me your phone." Now why I didn't just start pedaling away as fast as I could at this time I don't know, maybe it was like the man who doesn't move when a cobra is staring at him. I actually handed the man my cell phone. He called 911 and told them to send a police officer to shoot the deer. I am thinking, um excuse me but that is my cell phone number showing up on their computer system. He then starts telling the dispatcher not to send some namby pamby cop but a real good cop who will knock this deer down. Um, still my cell phone number showing up on their monitor. He hung up and handed me back my phone. I grabbed it and started pedaling away from there as fast as I could go.

Later I saw the deer still alive. She was being followed by last years fawn and her twins from this year. Ok maybe she should have been shot because our flowers are not safe from the 4 of them, I asked around to find out why she wasn't shot after the nice man requested in such a civil manner. Turns out the police just could not find where they were supposed to go to shoot the deer. Yea I bet that is what happened alright. Although they are probably still snickering about that Spoelstra nut case that insulted them and wanted them to shoot a deer in town.

Oh well they could just as well join the rest of the world, I hope your year was as much fun as mine.

Project with the Boys

We are working on remodeling a house that we have purchased as an investment with the boys. It was in pretty sad shape. The kitchen had some work already done but the rest of the house needed work.

Matthew worked on woodwork and laid carpeting among other jobs

Tony came along a couple of times to help with demolition and applied some polyurethane. 

 Micah put up trim and cut out the old door frames.

The bathroom was trimmed in a florescent pink the picture below does not do the pink justice. It was much brighter than the picture shows.

We ripped out the pink shelves and cupboards. Sharon demanded that one.

I don't know it looks to me like we lost a lot of storage.

All in all it was a great weekend to see how capable Micah and Matthew are. I really can't take any of the accolades for their skills. They have spent several summers working for R&R Roofing on roofs and other construction jobs.

We stuffed them all in the car and headed down to Joshua and Casey for Thanksgiving. A new pleasure, Joshua and Casey hosted Thanksgiving this year. I don't have a picture but wow there was a lot of food.

It is good to see our sons as young adults. 

What is truth

I enjoy reading. There is something about learning the thoughts of others through the printed word that I love. There was a used book sale in Oskaloosa a couple of weeks ago. Sharon and Matthew and I went to see what we could find.

Ok so I might have picked up a few books. These are the books that will not fit on my bookshelves. As we were looking through the books Matthew picked up a book on Joseph. The Joseph that was sold to Egypt by his brothers and became a slave in the household of Potiphar. It had an interesting cover with Egyptian symbols on it. Matthew opened the book and looked through it before putting it back. I asked him why he put it back. His response was it was just a retold story and not a scholarly treatise on the life of Joseph.

I said "ah, not much truth there". A man across from me then asked "what is truth?" That caught my attention. Those were the words of Pilate to Jesus after Jesus said “You are right in saying I am a king. In fact, for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.  Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.”

The man looked like an aging hippie. He was dressed shabbily and had long grey hair. I said to him "there is only one absolute truth". 

His response was "I only believe what my eyes can see." I told him "even your eyes can be deceived". He was quick to walk off after that. 

What is truth? Truth is we are sinners in need of a savior and that savior is Jesus. You may not be able to see that with your eyes, but it is there in the written word. I do love the written word.

Just some potatoes

I was making some vegetable soup today.The weather is getting just right for a bowl of soup. Vegetable soup is best in my opinion, which if I am going to be the one eating it is the only opinion that counts, starting with 2 pounds of pork loin and 1 pound of ham. As you can image I make a big crock pot of soup. A friend of ours gave us some potatoes from his garden.

I was cutting a few home grown potatoes into the crock pot and it reminded me of a story my mother used to tell. My grandfather was blind. He died when my mom was 9 years old. Grandfather had owned a farm but lost it during the depression. My blind grandfather, grandmother and their children, Fredrick, Waltrena, Willem, Cornelia, Edwald, Wilma, and Marion (I always figure they tired of Dutch names as they went along) had no income and nowhere to live. My great uncle knew a man named Joe Crookham. Joe Crookham owned land. I have been told he was in some financial distress himself.

Mom Today

My Great Uncle talked Joe Crookham into renting land to my blind grandfather 50/50. Half the expenses being paid by the landowner and half being paid by the tenant, All income to be shared equally by tenant and landowner with the tenant providing the labor. It really says a lot about the man the family has always known as Old Joe Crookham, that he took pity and provided a home and income for a blind man and his family.
Anyway where potatoes come into the story is my uncle Freddy always planted the potatoes. Freddie was not into over working. That might have been because his kidneys did not work well and he might not have ever felt well doing manual labor. Freddie would plant the seed potatoes in an old straw stack if he could. He wouldn't have to dig any holes in the ground, he could just push the seed potatoes into the rotten straw with the heel of his shoe. The thing is potatoes love to grow in that environment. While peeling potatoes today I asked Sharon how many potatoes would you have to plant and harvest if your family of eight was going to eat potatoes at a minimum of one meal a day. 365 days of potatoes stored away for the year.
Here's the thing, not far from where my grandmother lived there was a family that was poor. The father of the family did not believe in working too hard. Every year grandma and my aunts and uncles would plant enough potatoes so they would have more than they needed. They would give the extra potatoes to their poor neighbors. I sometimes wonder what kind of a man would take food from a blind man's family. Doesn't matter really, my grandmother not only kept her family fed she helped to feed others also. I think there is a lesson in there for me. No matter how little you may have in the eyes of the world, God will always give you enough to share.

A new school year

The summer is past except for the heat. Another school year begins.

 Matthew packed up his belongings and headed back to Dordt for his second year. You know how it is parents are not really welcome to go along after the first year. Of course he also "forgot" to call to tell us he had arrived safely. 

Micah spent the summer working in Sioux Center. Here he is heading back up after a quick weekend visit. He is a senior at Dordt this year.

Tony is back from China to spend another year with us while he attends his senior year at Pella Christian.

We picked Tony up at the airport at midnight on a Saturday. I had to lead a worship service the next day. Made for a very short night. I am proud to say though I did not fall asleep during the service. I really can't say about those sitting in the pews though.

Sharon has started work again in the Life Skills room at Oskaloosa Elementary School. I am pretty sure she would have liked at least another six months before school started up again

I am teaching Jr. High Bible at the Oskaloosa Christian School this year. Talk about being outside your comfort zone. I was called and asked if I would consider teaching. After praying (a lot) I said I would consider it. Then I was told I would have to interview for the position. Ok but really I should have been interviewing them as to why I would want to teach. Then I had to be voted on by the Education Comm. and then if they voted yes, The full School Board would have to vote. That done I went in and started on Thursday. On Friday (that's right the day after I started) I was told I needed to fill out an application for the teaching position. I am still waiting for that one to hit the fan. I bet they really expected more than my name on the application.

See this pair of shoes. I wore them on Thursday to teach. No air conditioning in the school. I was standing in puddles in my shoes by the time I left school. Boy I hope this heat breaks soon.

Another Birthday

Where, Oh where has the time gone? Growing up in the sixties,

Coming of age in the seventies. Wow, were those wild times.

Married and then three sons.

I definitely can not do push ups with them riding on my back any more.

Farmed and raised cattle for several years.

Spent a great deal of my life in the great out doors. 

Even had the privilege of helping to build the last John Deere tractor we bought. 

Sharon and I were 4-H leaders for several years, and met a lot of neat kids and families.

We moved off the farm and now enjoy living in town.

Today is my birthday. I look back and God has been good to me. I can say that looking back, but there were times when I wondered exactly where God was. But I know now he was always right there providing what I needed.

God says to love Who??

When I was younger I was a conservative Republican. I was even a delegate at the Republican State Convention in the early eighties.

I ask myself why conservatism leaves such a bad taste in my mouth now. Is it the total lack of love I see in their policies? Oh, they justify everything they espouse and wrap it up in the flag and Christianity. Slap on bumper stickers that read “God, guns and country”. Yea I am sure God is impressed.

Lately they have been in a rabid rage at the underage Hispanics fleeing Central America and crossing the border as illegals. 

They justify their anger and cries of "throw them back" by proclaiming these kids have broken the law and some of them are from gangs in Central America.

Yea I know that boy in the red shirt is obviously a killer gang member.

Do you really think parents would send their children off if they were not afraid for the lives of the children? Do you really think God puts National borders above feeding the hungry and caring for the poor? Read the Old Testament Prophets and see how often God commands to care and feed the immigrant and calls down judgment on the wealthy for not feeding and clothing the poor.

As for the excuse for sending them all back immediately because these kids have broken our immigration laws I remember Jesus saying if someone takes your cloak give him your coat also, that doesn't sound to me like others obeying laws has anything to do with how we treat them. So yea, at the end of time I don’t want Jesus to say to me, “I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink. I was naked and you gave me no clothes. I was sick and in prison and you did not visit me.”

Love those emergency foil blankets the youths are sleeping under.

 And I will ask Lord when did I see you hungry or thirsty or naked or sick and in prison? I have a feeling Jesus might say, “are you serious. Your wealthy nation had children streaming here to share the bounty I gave you and you selfishly kept it all for yourself. Away from me, you evildoer I never knew you.”

There was a police chief in a small town. Some of the upstanding citizens and members of his church didn't think he was doing his job arresting illegal immigrants. One day as he was sitting in his office four of the men from his congregation came through his door. Two of them had a Hispanic woman by the arms. They crowded around his desk and Sam, an elder in his church said “listen Chief, this woman came and asked me for a job. She has no ID of any kind and I am sure she is not legal. Now what are you going to do about it?”

The chief looked over at the man on the far right and asked, “Jerry, last week when I clocked you at 76 miles an hour on the highway south of town, all I did was tell you to slow it down and keep it under the speed limit. 21 miles an hour over the speed limit and I should have taken your license. That would have made it pretty tough for you to keep your job as a salesman wouldn’t it?”

The he looked at the man on the left, “Dave, when you fixed the plumbing in my house last year you asked if I would pay you in cash. I wonder, did you report that income to the IRs when you filed your taxes.”

Next the chief looked at the man holding the left arm of the woman. “Ralph, remember that car you sold last year. We all saw that thing smoking as it went down the street until the day before you sold it. Did you have any oil in the oil pan or was it all STP so you could tell that poor kid you sold it to that it didn’t use any oil?”

“Well Sam” said the chief as he looked at the church elder holding the right arm of the woman. “I know you are a righteous man and a leader of the church. Do these three men with you know that your oldest son’s birthday is only 6 months after your wedding anniversary?”

“Now gentlemen what was it you wanted me to do with this woman?”

The 4 of them left in a rage. I guess they didn’t understand grace. (John 8:3-11)

Celebrating Diane

22 years ago today, my youngest sister, Diane (Joy Bandstra), was killed in a car accident. She was 21 years old and was planning to complete her senior year at Dordt College majoring in elementary education. Sometimes I wonder...what would Diane be doing now? Would she be a wife and a mom? Would she still be teaching? Would she live nearby or a long ways away?

Diane loved life. She was vibrant, fun, loving. She got involved in everything.

Our oldest son was only 3 when she died. She absolutely loved Joshua and some of my fondest memories are of her playing with him.

Diane with Joshua.

She loved people without judgement and her sudden death impacted many young people causing them to renew their relationship with God.

She loved music and was an incredible vocalist. She was always singing; while mowing the lawn, around the house, in churches, schools and solos for Dordt College.

Above all, Diane loved God. This was evident in her life and in her conversations. It was evident in her Bible.

Even today, we hear stories about Diane. Recently, our family received the gift of another memory. In memory of her today, I would like to share a portion of this letter.

This comes from one of Diane's former professors at Dordt College:
The incident took place on a ten-day Rep Theatre tour, and the event illustrates a number of Diane's traits that made her a charming, engaging person. Our group that year comprised about twelve students and myself. 
  
We had left Dordt shortly after the May graduation ceremony concluded, traveling in a fifteen-passenger college van, and pulling a large tandem-axle trailer that contained our sets, lighting equipment, sound system, tools, and luggage. Whereas I don’t recall our first performance sites (we may have performed in Pella, the Chicago area, and possibly in Wisconsin), the incident took place mid-tour in southwestern Canada.  

 A typical performance would include driving to a Christian high school; setting up the sets, lighting equipment, and sound equipment that evening; and staying in hosts’ homes or a motel that night. Early the next morning, we would perform a show, do acting and makeup workshops, strike the set, pack up, and hustle to the next site where we would repeat all those activities. Occasionally we had a free day for a little sightseeing, but most days included one or two shows plus travel. In brief, the rhythm was demanding, and each person had to know his or her job, and do it well. We could not afford packing or loading mistakes, errors running cables, misplaced tools, or forgotten luggage. But throughout this regiment, Diane was a trooper, whether the task was lugging equipment, illustrating makeup techniques, or performing with style and grace. She did it all, and she did it well. 

One day, we had done a show in Ancaster, and we were on the jam-packed 401 (Queen’s Expressway), heading for a performance the following day at Toronto Christian High School.  Our schedule was tight because we needed to reach the school and set up before the school staff left the building. In normal driving conditions, that would have been very doable. But what we experienced—four or six lanes of bumper-to-bumper, stop-and-creep traffic—made travel dangerous, tense, and uncomfortable on this very hot afternoon when the van’s air conditioner proved inadequate. The Canadian (or Ontario) government had recently instituted the GST tax, which Canadian truckers had to pay for their fuel, but U.S. truckers did not have to pay,  thereby making Canadian truckers less competitive in their own country. As a result, many were frustrated, and some were angry—angry enough to create the mother-of-all traffic jams on this blistering afternoon on the 401. As you might imagine, the jam and heat made some other travelers frustrated and/or angry as well.  

On a number of occasions, in this hot and tense atmosphere, traffic stopped altogether, one or more drivers got out of their trucks, walked over to another truck, and visited with its driver. On one lengthy stop, to cope with the heat and boredom, the Rep group had opened the van’s windows, passenger door, and rear doors. Some were stretched out on the seats, others had legs or torsos protruding out of the windows or doors, and a few were sitting on the trailer hitch or on top of the van.  And that’s when it happened: I heard this clear, wren-like voice sing out a fresh, playful, carefree melody that danced through the tension and heat. If I recall correctly, Diane was on top of the van, and first she sang alone. Then, one-by-one, other students joined in, and soon they filled the hot air with joyful music. As they sang, the truckers around us stopped talking, watched, and listened. When this impromptu mini-concert concluded, the truckers applauded, and the tension seemed to have lifted. Then they got back in their vehicles, the Rep group got in ours, and soon we were all moving again, slowly, but uplifted and moving. 

While I remember other good things about that trip, about Diane’s work in Rep Theatre that semester, or about the conversations that we had regarding course selections and career plans, that memory personifies the others. Diane loved God, loved her family, and sought to live obediently. One of the ways she did that was by using her creativity, spontaneity, and strong will to sing joy into the lives of others. Whereas I had the privilege of working with many wonderful students during my 1977-1992 tenure at Dordt, Diane continues to stand out as one of the best. Along with you, I still miss her. 

Texas

The world seems to be moving faster and faster. 

This pictures was taken as we drove though Houston.

This picture was taken in Dallas. So much traffic they are building the roads higher and higher. All the world is in a hurry

Sometimes I need to learn to just slow down and enjoy life and all the gifts God has given to me. The tower above is on the hill above Hot Springs Arkansas. Sharon and I climbed to the top, 19 flights of stairs. We went up the stairs the slow way instead of taking the elevator.

 The view from the top was worth the climb.

You could look over the mountains for miles.

We found a road in Arkansas that wound through he Ozark mountains.

They were serious about the 10 miles an hour. The road had hairpin curves and steep slopes.

We spent some time on the beach on Padre Island.

There was no one within a quarter mile of us. That is my kind of beach.

The waves were great. 

                                      

It sort of felt like you had reached the end of the world.

This is a 2 lane highway in Texas. The speed limit is 15 miles an hour.

It is on the beach by Aransas. The road is just sand and there were times we were starting to spin out just as though we were driving in snow. By the end of 6 miles we were more than ready to be back on pavement.

To get back on the mainland we had to take the ferry.

I was once again learning to slow down.

I know embarrassing picture, but it is my version of a slow down and see God in creation vacation. God gave us a Sabbath to rest. Sometimes in our hectic fast paced world there is a need to slow down and rest. 

I had to add this picture. Breakfast in a Texas hotel is not complete with out a Texas shaped waffle. I tried to stick the fork in right where we were that morning.