Rodeo Life

Author: Mark Eaton

  • Confessions of regret

    Confessions of regret

    As it turns out, I know way more about failing than I do victory in Jesus. The victory part I seem to be dismal at. The failing part, in a major sense of the word, I may be at a professional level. It is true that God uses everything and everyone for His Story. Yet, honestly, I fail. By faith I know that God will use it. Yet, the failure or regrets remain.
    Please keep in mind I am not a pessimist or an optimist. Both will get one killed at worst and embarrassed at best. I am a realist. The cup is both half full and half empty. Allow me to be truthful about my “cup.”

    I have regrets. Here are a few I am willing to talk about for broad readership:
    Children: It always frustrates me, and has for decades, when we give ourselves a pass on parenting. It comes in the form of: “well, we all do the best we can.” To which my honest side says: “well, maybe, sometimes.” There were times when I was absent too often. As they grew, there were times where I spoke with a lack of sensitivity. In ignorance and inability generally. Regardless, I missed their hearts. Their eyes shifted and dropped, and I was helpless to correct it. There were occasions, I cannot recall now, where I was lazy. Not tired, but just lazy. Other times, I forced compliance for my best, not theirs. Occasionally too harsh or too soft. My youth prevented me from knowing how to enter their worlds with courage and sensitivity. My language skills for my son were adequate. For my daughters however, who preceded him, they were desperately lacking. Especially before they left to craft their own lives. My poor skills and fear of a heart-language caused me to step back too far or step in too hard. It feels now that I rarely got it right. There are regrets here. Yet, they are each independent, kind, strong, and far better parents than I.
    Spouse: Occasionally, I get it right. More often than not, I get it somewhere between really missing and kind-of missing Susie’s heart. 30 or 40 years ago was another story. Ambitious and aggressive, sometimes necessarily so, I put so many things in front. Career demands, other people, my pride, and my hobbies slithered to the top of the daily planner. I cannot get these back. They just are and mark different phases of my life. These days, it is hopefully different. I miss less, but still miss. Self-care is important. Self-focus is indulgent. As much as I think I defer in kind and humble ways, I have been, and can be, self-focused. Regrets abound.
    Career: Had I put my head down and gotten after it, I would have been more effective. My staff would have thrived better. There may have been a book. A few hours a day of absolute laser focus would have been monumental. Again, sometimes I did my best. Other times, I took the easy way and got a pass. It maybe was good, but not my best. I hate that.
    Friends: There are many who ask for attention from all of us. I have given lots of attention to the wrong people. Other times, I have given not enough to the right people. The reasons, in part, have to do with character flaws in me, I’m sure. Some of those I’m aware of, others I’m not. For those true friends who asked for more, I am sorry I failed you. For my friends who wanted to know my heart and I played it safe by talking about hobbies and the weather, I apologize. At some level, I believe if you really knew me you wouldn’t like me. That has made me cowardly on occasion. Overbearing at other times. I regret that.
    Pastoring: it seems like this would be the one place where all my other failings fade away and I announce, in false-humility, one giant success story. Nope. It would be easy to god-speak and talk about blessings and victorious preaching. For me, that’s a nonsense smoke screen. I fail myself and my congregation regularly. This is the primary topic of my prayer life with God.
    Despite all of this, I will carry on. Acknowledging these things will hopefully produce more meekness. I need it.
    I’m sure more failures and regrets await. Probably in these same arenas. I will do what I’ve always done. Keep going and trusting in the grace, forgiveness and redemptive nature of a Good Father. I’ll never regret that.

  • Today’s Youth Culture

    As David was gathering his “Mighty Men” there was a group of warriors who showed up. These 200 chiefs came with their relatives and are described as: “…from Issachar, (these were) men who understood the times and knew what Israel should do” (1 Chronicles 12:32)
    Swords, horses and bows are important. More important, as any strategist will tell us, is a wise plan. Having such allows us to understand and gain wisdom. The Ancient’s confirm this. In Tsung Tsu’s famous “The Art of War” he states: “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.”
    In Lukianoff and Haidt’s, “The Coddling of the American Mind”, they address the “untruths” that a corner of our culture is inculcating into our youth. Birth to college, the not-so-subtle messages are making inroads. I agree with their thesis and want to springboard with my own thoughts. As always, I hope they are helpful.
    Students are being told, untruly, that they are emotionally fragile. They are not. The point, in part, of childhood is to be able to explore unsafe things in a reasonably safe way. The job of parents is to help develop the child to be unafraid of real-life challenges because they have incrementally been exposed to controllable danger and have learned how to adapt, toughen and grow. Safety is a fantasy. Nothing is safe. Even love is dangerous. Maybe the most dangerous actually. But I digress.
    This safety notion started, like them all, with good intentions. Expand and over apply an exaggerated concept of safety, over several decades, it morphs into our current situation where even an opposing “idea” is considered dangerous. We “cancel” people and shout them down with mega-phones if someone has challenging ideas. We create “safe spaces” and help them flee to wallow in their own pseudo-brilliance instead of having legitimate debates in the marketplace with older experienced voices.
    The word “dangerous” has been reduced to include hurt feelings now. Our children are not being carefully coached toward resiliency and the ability to move wisely, with strength and thoughtful compassion in the face of opposition. If someone is pretending to be a duck, anyone who questions that will be attacked in some form. The pretender catastrophizes the issue and claims they are in a dangerous space. The pretender, today, has more voice than the one asking questions it seems.
    Now, of course you know, like me, that words can hurt. They can do tremendous damage. Especially to young children. There is a big difference however, from a fathers overly harsh words in a family of origin setting (which hurt) and a college campus where opposing ideas are supposed to be presented. When our ideas cannot be discussed and debated without being seen as “dangerous” we have lost our idea of democracy. We have further lost the idea of college (higher education) which is traditionally and intentionally the place for ideas to be studied. Instead of squelched.
    They are being taught, consciously or unconsciously, intentionally or unintentionally, to be fragile and easily offended. Someone who disagrees is dangerous and to be silenced. Words like “triggered” and “micro-aggressions” are common. Casual conversations among friends are often framed in negative terms and discounted, instead of offering the benefit of the doubt.
    Further, increasingly, friendships get broken, and lines get drawn. Us against them is more prevalent. Good guys and bad guys are more distinct. This polarization creates division, and they blame outside forces for their life situation. Personal responsibility for thoughts and actions disappears. Some other group or ideal is to blame for life’s normal hardships.
    When I guided the big white-water rivers of the Northwest, there was a clear pattern even rookie guides noticed early. If during a flat-water section another boat initiates a water fight, the boat will band together. But shortly after the outside threat is gone, someone in the boat will throw a bucket of water on or push their own boat-mate overboard. Someone will get mad or lose a contact or a hat. And the boat tears itself apart. Sound familiar.
    Our youth are resilient and strong. We should not teach them to be fragile and weak. We need to help them to grow stronger and face challenges instead of reinforcing an emotional fragility.
    I need to stay tuned with the culture to be able to have a wise voice. However, if I shout, I might be cancelled. If I stay silent, I will have failed them.
    David needed cultural wisdom. So do I.

  • Good People Make Good Nations

    Good People Make Good Nations

    Our recent 4th of July celebrations caused me to ponder our nation. This is my summary.
    Good ideas, taken to an extreme and governed by the exceptions, die of their own kindness.
    This is why government can never be the essence of a good and lasting nation. Governments take what seem to be ‘good ideas’ and legislate them. The problem is kindness and compassion cannot be mandated. Good people already do those things because they are good people.
    Good people need very few laws to guide them. Societies need a few. In my mind, not that you asked, the ‘good people’ to ‘good society’ cycle needs to start somewhere. To me it starts with the individual. One person at a time. You. Me. This is ancient wisdom. Before Plato, who mentions this idea, humans have known this.
    Good people are good. They do good things. Good people find good people. They do good things together. They cooperate and get things done. They give and take and share their ideas in a safe and healthy way. They have core values of honesty, courage, loyalty, fierceness and kindness. They protect what they have built from those who seek to steal it. They are self-sacrificing for a good cause and want the best for others.
    As a result, they attract good spouses and together they build a strong and safe world for each other. They support each other in the life journeys of easy and hard. They love hard, bond and speak kindly and honestly to each other. Of course, as goes with humans, that proves itself physically. They have children.
    Their children grow up in principled, emotionally, and physically safe and structured homes. They are imprinted early with the values of good humans. Not taught as much as caught. The values are lived in front of the children in such a way that they are planted deep in the child’s mind and heart. They become the normal and expected way life should be lived. Respect. Honor. Integrity. Mercy. Strength. Contribution. Humility and Initiative are practiced daily in tangible ways. Forgiveness and grace are the standard. They know these things, not because of a speaker on a campus, but because that is how life is lived in good homes. They become good people because they were saturated and matured by good people.
    So, they attract good people. The cycle continues and they raise good children. They create good homes that make for good neighborhoods. Good neighborhoods make good communities. Good people band together and build hospitals, schools, libraries, roads, parks, benevolent funds, scholarships and civil laws. Again, good people need very few laws. They can, in good faith and love, figure their own stuff out.
    Good cities, make good counties which make good states in the case of the US. Good states make a good nation. Good nations make good laws that serve its good citizens and care for the exceptions. Out of a good citizenship, this nation is strong and kind. It defends what it has worked hard to form. It does not let the exceptions become the rule. It sees needs in areas around the world and serves them out of its strength and abundance. Out of its goodness.
    There will always be those who rebel and behave like deconstructionistic narcissists who insist they are special and need accommodation. They will see it as their right, all others be damned. They care for nothing that has been built because they have built nothing. They seek, not to contribute to the strength and unity, but rather seek to tear down to serve their own specialness and be accommodated. They will force their distinctiveness on the masses and demand accommodation. These do not make good neighbors. In fact, they make contentious neighbors generally and probably don’t contribute to the benevolence fund or the parks they want benefit of.
    Two illustrations: Susie and I saw an emergency roadside assistance vehicle on the side of the road. It had a flat tire and was out of commission. Roadside assistance vehicles can assist no one when they don’t have the reserves to help. My decades of Mountain and River Rescue work have a code. Stay alive. A dead rescuer helps no one and in fact, becomes another liability. Good nations must do the things needed to stay strong.
    Nations must be built by good people making good homes and neighborhoods. In turn they make good cities and states. In turn, it follows, that they band together and unify, make a good nation. Bottom-up works. Top-down never does for long.
    Good people make good nations. Not the other way around.

  • Amish

    Amish

    The Amish rolled in like gangsters. They had a humble swagger and saved the day.
    I did not see that coming.
    Like Moses, when trapped against the Red Sea when, suddenly, it began to part. Did not see that coming. Neither did the 12 when Jesus quieted the storm. Or Daniel when the lion and he had a sleep over. And Joseph when his brothers showed up hungry after many years of incommunicado. Job did not expect God to sit him down and give him a grand inquisition in the way he did.
    The unexpected happens. We don’t expect it. Obviously. It is unexpected. Could not have predicted it. A miracle? Maybe it is. It’s unexpected and has God’s hands all over it.
    Here’s a laymen’s version of what happens in humans. We spend a lifetime building a mental map of how life goes. When we see a car driving erratically our mind taps into the map we have constructed that informs us what we should do. Speed up, slow down, exit or ram. Now unless you think I am being absurd, ramming can be a good option. For most of us though, it is not in our map. Unless the car in front of us stops suddenly and four goons get out and come at us with weapons and ill-intent on a boxed-in on-ramp. If we are quick witted, we realize our map must adjust to avoid a car-jacking or worse. For inner-city folks with narrow tunnels and high walls on their freeway ramps, this is not unexpected. It is already mapped. Ram and get gone.
    This is, in part, how humans survive. The elephant charges: run. Mapped. The slippery glass drops: attempt to soften the blow with a foot catch. Mapped. A toddler cries: go assess the situation. Mapped. The Pastor is boring: pretend to take notes while making a to-do list. Mapped. Someone asks us a question about our behavior: get defensive, attack, deny, deflect or answer the question. Our response will depend on how we have mapped it.
    However, the key to maturation and human growth is the conscious ability to expand, adjust and change our maps. On the west coast of Washington state, the rain means good whitewater, the salmon move upstream, or a powder snow day. In SE Oklahoma rain means grass and fat cattle. It means riding fences and checking water-gaps. I needed to adjust my long-held view of rain.
    Beyond that, our minds are also driven to integrity. Minds want to make sense. To be congruent. To have reality match what we want it to be. This has a good affect often. It makes us fight to sort out the world. But it also makes us lazy when we can’t, or sadder, don’t want to. The ‘don’t want to’ happens way more often than most of us think. We tend to draw conclusions quickly based on our mapping. Sometimes we miss. Sometimes, it is a costly miss.
    On more than several occasions, I have listened to someone say one version or another of, “I did not see that coming.” It could be because they were not expanding their mapping of the universe around them. The things they saw, felt, or wondered about were not given weight because they did not fit the map, or they were retranslated to fit an existing map.

    Some Thoughts:

    1. Be constantly updating our maps. Like the map of Cheyenne, WY is not the same as it was in 1867. Updates need to happen or forever be confused about the new traffic roundabouts and the cannon at noon before Susie sings the opening anthem.

    2. The world is changing fast. People are adapting, adjusting and growing. Are they coming closer or moving away? Study the culture and the people around us. Notice them. Remap.

    3. Stay alert to how we lock our maps down. Pay attention to how often we miss something because we had stopped growing our maps.

    About 10 minutes after the Pie Auction started, I had concluded this group was not going to raise much money. Sad. It was a good cause. Then, the local Amish swaggered in. Breads, fried pies, brownies, peach cobblers and other gastronomical bits of heaven were suddenly on the block. The day was saved. The crowd went crazy bidding wild amounts. My map grew in several ways.
    Susie and I bought 8 fresh baked Fried Pies for $275. Didn’t see that coming.
    Stay open. God often surprises humans.

  • Truly Living

    Truly Living

    Our cattle working pens are built for big ole’ full grown mama cows. Any of our handsome herd below 700 lbs. can get hurt and the cowboys can get frustrated if we run them through. As it turns out, we let a few calves get pretty big before we finally got to tag, brand, spray, give shots and make the bulls into steers.

    As you might guess…we had to ‘drag’ to the branding. Now, on another day we might have snugged them up in the chutes, but on this day, we had a couple of cowboys and a herd of enthusiastic visitors. It was bound to get Western.

    The cowboy on horseback roped the hind legs and the rest of us bum-rushed the now feisty bovines. My job was to get the head and hold on. Keep in mind I weigh a “buck ’90” and a few months past 65 yrs old. Clearly this is not the ideal situation for this non-cowboy mountain climber. But no way was I going to miss this action! No giving shots or standing clear with the fly spray. Nope. Live large and get in the fight. Perfect. Rolled my sleeves up and spit on my hands. Let’s get this rodeo going!

    Cracked ribs are not something I like having. Breathing is a bit of a problem, and the soreness keeps me awake if I try to sleep on that side.

    Anyway, we got it done. Understand now, that I’m on my fourth lifetime at this point and I fully intend on squeezing in a few more. So this cracked rib situation prompted a few thoughts:

    1. Each life has looked different than the one before. Each has taught the next a few bits of wisdom and left a few scars.
    2. Each step has mistakes, grace, shame, beauty, fear and courage. Yep.
    3. Each iteration has redemption, joy, growth and humbling. Done them all.
    4. Each day has opportunities to make a situation better or worse. I have chosen both.
    5. Each window of time has a ripple effect in others’ lives. Most I am proud of and some I am not.

    It has been said that we only live once. A truer saying is that we only die once…we live every day. So many my age, and decades younger even, are busy dying every day instead of living. They, unconsciously or otherwise, have taken their foot off the gas and are beginning to pay homage to the seduction of ease and comfort. I do not want to be among them. See if my thoughts below resonate with you:

    1. I do not fear death. What I fear is not living.
    2. I want to go as hard as I can healthily sustain, for as long as I can, do as much good as I can, for as many as I can.
    3. I want to learn how to gracefully go into the next stage with as much dignity as I can muster.
    4. I want to be authentically peaceful, with no subterranean traces of youthful rage, competition and ego posturing.
    5. I want to be awake and not sleepwalk through my days.
    6. I hope to live fully connected with each of my children with nothing left to say and nothing left undone.
    7. I hope to keep the adventures going and if I crack a few ribs along the way so be it. The photos will not have me in a “lazy boy” until the very end or sickness takes me there.
    8. I hope my fights will be more for the hearts of my loved ones and less for the shallow satiation of my small pride.
    9. I want to talk less and say more.
    10. I want Susie to feel loved way beyond what her adolescent dreams imagined.
    11. I want to not play-it-safe with her or with life. But rather to risk and be all in.

    There will be ‘cracked ribs’ along the way. They will speak not about the scars of false glory. But hopefully about the bonding with friends, the solid conversations about real things, the chance to encourage others, the opportunity to love wildly and to walk with God in a deep abiding faith.

    So, I make this pledge to my good readers: I will do my rib-cracking best to live up to the words above.

    “Every man dies, not every man truly lives.” William Wallace from the movie “Braveheart.”

    “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.” Hellen Keller

    “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart as if you were working for the Lord…” Paul’s letter to the Colossians.

  • Defending the Vulnerable

    Looking out the window this morning I see something unusual in the small house-pasture. I have learned that if I don’t recognize something I need to check it out. Grabbing the binoculars I could clearly see two newborns! Twins. Very rare for us.
    They could both stand and nurse. That was a good sign. When we got down to them we could see the softer hooves and frail frames typical of premature calves. The mother was not very full with milk, but they were both bumping her pretty hard to get whatever they could. They might make it, we thought.
    The little bull calf was the stronger of the two. Both got ear tags. Oddly, Mom was quite docile during that process. That is unusual for our momma cows. They tend to be pretty aggressive and protective of their babies in these timbered varmint-rich hills of SE Oklahoma. Then something else caught our eye. The little heifer’s tail was half gone. In fact, it had been eaten off. Coyotes! Momma was exhausted from fighting off the predators during the long night.
    The vermin had gone beyond her tail and gotten into some softer places on her south side. This was clearly not good. We patched her up as well as we could and returned her to Momma. The next morning, only her twin brother was alive.
    There is no nice way to tidy up this story unless one doesn’t tell the truth. Even then, an astute child can realize the Momma lost her calf. One of the advantages to living on a ranch is children get to see the birth and death, struggle and thrill of life. The creatures that join us here on this earth, in most cases, lack the ability to show compassion. Those who are predatory are simply doing what they do to survive. The rancher, in my case “me”, does what he needs to protect the ones under his care who cannot protect themselves. In this case; baby calves.
    Although some will not understand this, others will consider it immoral, a few will hate me, ranchers and farmers will give me recommendations for night-vision scopes and professional hunters will be glad to charge me for elimination services. I understand that some don’t understand, will not understand, refuse to understand, have no mental framework to justify understanding. Others will respond with a refusal to understand them in turn, call them idiots, see them as the enemy or simply ignore them as uninformed with too many decades removed from their great-grandparent’s world to appreciate this issue.
    So I am left, within the limits of the law, to decide what my own value is. For me, it is simple. I am over 63 years into this life game, and coming to grips with reality, the laws of the land and nature are not new issues. I made peace with my values years ago and will act in accordance to my conscience. Logic, experience, legality, opportunity, commerce, providing for my family, protecting the vulnerable, what I understand to be moral, thousands of years of human and animal interaction, my father and grandfather, my trusted friends, and Susie will be my guides.
    There is a small calf out there tonight. Two days old. Momma is tired and needs to get rest.
    The dusk has barely turned into darkness and the coyotes are already howling, yipping and barking, north, south and east. And now an Oklahoma thunderstorm is coming in…the first of 4 days of rain.
    As humans we often get frustrated by modernity trying to sterilize and sanitize us. Our men, in particular, are struggling, wondering how to use their instincts to protect and their strength to defend in good ways. We already know defending our own egos is largely a game for fragile men who can act like junior high boys sparring for status with the 8th grade girls.
    We want a real and legitimate place to live out our protectors’ heart. A good way, I suggest, is to find a group that is vulnerable, weak, and cannot defend themselves against the predators of the world. Fight for them. Ignore the howls of those who do not understand. Listen to the counsel of good trusted friends.
    There was a woman who was being mocked and accused by the self-righteous. Jesus stepped in, by himself, stood between her accusers and her and invited them to throw a stone if they had one. There was no script for this. He simply did what he was made to do. (John 8)
    He found and defended the vulnerable. With strength and dignity.
    The coyotes are ready to go to work. So am I.