Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Where, Oh Where, Have My Brain Cells Gone?


Back in my prime I could walk and chew gum at the same time. I was able to remember what I had for breakfast. I could even remember my phone number.

Sadly, those days of astonishing mental prowess are long gone.

When I turned 60 last year I took stock of my life (I only do this once a decade; that is about all the introspection I can stand) and I realized that something was missing -- the memory cells I used to have in my brain.


I decided to document the symptoms of my memory loss so I could discuss them with my family doctor.  But then I lost the list.  And forget the appointment.

I forget the simplest things, and at the worst times! Names? Oh, those fell out of my head years ago.

Appointments? All I can say is it is a good thing the doctors' offices do those robo-call reminders the day before. In fact, I may be the reason they started.

I try not to let this upset me. After all, how much does it really matter? I've got maybe 10 or 20 years left to stumble through this life, and how much do I need to remember anyway? And if I could remember it, who else would want to hear about it?

But I did become alarmed earlier this summer when I was in the hospital recuperating from an operation. On the third day after surgery I was still taking strong pain meds, but I thought I had totally recovered from the anesthesia. I thought I was back in my right mind.

Then my cell phone rang.

I could feel my brain cells tingling, as if they were trying to transmit a message. Finally it came through. I said to myself, "The phone is ringing. I should pick it up."

I finally picked it up and looked at the screen. A few more brain cells lit up. "Hmmm," I thought, "My son is calling me."

I stared at the phone some more. It was still ringing. What should I do? I felt some more brain cells firing and I told myself: "I should answer that phone."

And then came the moment when I realized the cheese had slipped off of my cracker. I was holding the phone, staring at the screen, seeing my son's name right next to the big green circle that said "ANSWER"... and I could not remember how to do it!

As if on cue, the phone stopped ringing. I sighed with relief. Maybe I could collect my thoughts now that that annoying noise had stopped.

I laid back on the bed. I thought real hard. I furrowed my brow. I clicked my heels together three times and repeated: "There's no place like home, there's no place like home..."

Finally, after several minutes of excruciating concentration, I remembered that I could go to the "call log" screen and look for his name. Then I could tap on it and my phone would automatically call him back.

I was so proud! I managed to return that phone call all by myself without any help from T-Mobile tech support.

I believe I am doing better now as my recovery has progressed, but it still seems like quite a few brain cells have gone AWOL. Maybe some of them will return, like the Prodigal Son, after they have exhausted themselves in carousing and wild living.

Or maybe they have run away to join the circus, and won't even bother to send a postcard.  Maybe I have recovered as much of my mind as I am going to get.

I must confess that this sneak preview of my looming debilitation has left me feeling vulnerable. Once again I am reminded how short and fragile this temporary earthly life really is.

All I ask for when the time comes is a nice corner room with a view at the Shady Acres Home for Weary Bloggers, preferably overlooking a tranquil pond. The rest will do me good.

And also, a name tag please,  just so I can remember who I am in case anyone asks.


Friday, September 18, 2015


Friday, September 11, 2015

America Faces a Time for Choosing

“Without God, there is no virtue, because there is no prompting of the conscience. And without God, democracy will not and cannot long endure. If we ever forget that we’re one nation under God, we will be a nation gone under.” - President Ronald Reagan
Jonathan Cahn, in his amazing book The Harbinger, makes the case that America is now in the midst of a time of divine judgment, and that we are still ignoring the voice of God as he calls us to repentance. We have not learned from the experience of 9/11.

That awful national wake-up call had a few brief positive results. We found a new appreciation for the liberties and blessings that we had taken for granted. There was a refreshing spirit of patriotism and self-sacrifice sweeping across the country. For a few short months, there seemed to be a stirring of some national spiritual awakening.


There were thousands of special worship services across the country in the days following the attacks. For the first time since D-Day in 1944, a U.S. President declared a National Day of Prayer. On the Sunday after 9/11, churches across America were packed with people seeking consolation and guidance from God. 

Sadly, it did not take us long to put our thoughts of God back up on the shelf and once again turn our attention to self-gratification. We soon went right back to business as usual.