What Others Are Saying:

Steve Case, through his emersion into the story, reminds us that the presence of the divine surrounds us continually and he teaches us how to tap into that presence.

 - Mary Beth Howe, Author:A Baptist Among Jews

Tuesday
Jun122012

Geoff The Bunny

Once upon a time there was a bunny. He was a very large bunny, bigger than most.  His name was Geoff. Geoff D. Bunny to be precise but most of the animals in the forest just called him Geoff because the fuzzy forest friends are not so formal.  

 Geoff was very happy being a bunny. He spent a lot time writing songs about being a bunny and often made up new variations on what he called his Bunny Ballet. 

 One day as Geoff was dancing his bunny dance down the forest path,  a grey mouse whose name was Bill and happened to live in a log near the old Maple tree said, “Well, if it isn’t Geoff the Fish.”

 Geoff thought this statement was peculiar because he thought it was pretty obvious he was a bunny.  Most certainly he was not a fish.

 “I’m a bunny.” Geoff said. He said it very politely because he believed that the mouse had simply made an honest mistake.  The truth was that the mouse had not made an honest mistake and simply enjoyed teasing people into questioning who and what they were.  “No,” said the grey mouse, I believe you are a fish.”

 “I’m a bunny.” Geoff said, he was beginning to understand that the mouse was just being mean but he felt the need to argue the point.

 “No,” said the mouse. “I think you are a.....hmmmm...a goat. You are Geoff the goat.”

 “Then you are stupid.” Geoff said, “I’m a bunny.”

 “Better stupid than a goat.” The mouse said. “Who would want to be a goat?”

 “I’m not goat. I’m a bunny.”  Geoff was starting to feel a little upset.  He liked being a bunny and was thinking “What if the mouse is right?”  Would he has to stop dancing his bunny ballets?  Would he has to stop singing his bunny songs?

 “Okay, maybe you are not a goat,” said the mouse. “I think you are a camel.”  (Inside, the mouse was laughing hysterically.  He couldn’t wait to go the mouse’s tavern and tell his friends how he had made a bunny wonder if he really was a bunny.)

 “I’m not a camel.” Geoff said. Now he really was upset because he was not even entirely sure what a camel was.  It was at this moment that a wise old owl, whose name was Kevin, stepped out of his hole on a high branch of the old maple tree. He had heard the commotion and decided to check it out.  

 The little grey field mouse decided to include the owl on his prank and shouted up. “Hello Mr Owl. I’m Bill the field mouse and this is Geoff the camel.”   Bill winked at the owl. It was all he could do not to laugh out loud.  

 Kevin the owl looked down and immediately leapt from his perch.  He soared downward and veered up at the last moment grabbing the little mouse in his claw. When he reached his home branch again he tossed the field mouse in the air and caught him in his beak. The wise old owl chuckled lightly because the mouse’s tail tickled as it was the last thing to go down his throat.  The old owl looked down at Geoff the bunny and said, “Never cared much for camel myself.  Now field mice? There’s some good eats.”

 Geoff smiled and danced his bunny ballet down the path.

 The Moral: You have the right to ignore anyone who tells you that you are anything less than a wonderful and amazing creation of God.

Thursday
May312012

This is a Blog Page

As I sit down to write this I hear the mail truck outside my house and I just want to run out and get the mail right now.  I may not make it to the end of this posting.  I may stop and go get the mail. 

When I was a kid, maybe four or five, my mother assigned me the “job” of getting the mail.  At the time the mail slot was on the door of our house.  The mail came in and dropped into a basket my mom attached to the door.  It was a big deal for me.  It was my “important job”.  So I learned to listen for the bang of the brass mail slot on the door.  If I didn’t hear it my mom would tell me the mail was here and I would run to the door.  It made “mail” special for me.  A unexpected package or even an expected one is till one of those simple joys of life that make my day.

 I think we assign meaning to things.  Mail might be no big deal for you but I still enjoy it. Postcards are a very cool thing for me.  My Aunt Elsie saved every postcard she ever got.  When she had to move into an assisted living apartment she got rid of most of her stuff and she gave me a big box of postcards some older than me. (There was one written by my mother from a hotel room on a family vacation.  Apparently my brother and I were “running off extra energy” after being stuck in a car all day.)

 If a man tells his friend “My father died.”   The friend can say, “Oh I’m sorry.” the first man can say, “Don’t be. He was an SOB and I hated him.”  or he can say, “Thank you. He was a great guy and I’ll miss him very much.”   The concept “father died” does not change but the meaning he assigns to the event changes.

 We cannot change our past.  Those things that happened to us...we cannot go back and undo them. We CAN change the meaning we assign to them.  When I was unemployed and we weren’t getting along very well...the sound of the mail-truck became ugly. More bills. I, mostly without realizing it, changed the meaning I assigned to “mail”.

 You are not your past. You are who you are because that is who you choose to be. Does this mean your past does not affect the person you are. No, your past affects you deeply but you can choose to let it rule you...repeat it over and over...or you can learn from it and let it change you for the better.

 You can bomb a test and think “Oh my God, I bombed that test.  Now I will fail the class and never get to college and be homeless for the rest of my life. I suck.”   (No, that’s not an exaggeration.  You all know someone like that.)  OR you can bomb that test and decide, “Never again.  I will rise. I will conquer.  They will never take away my FREEEDOOOM.”  Okay, that was a bit of exaggeration.

 Life is coming at you like an oncoming train.  Are you turned around looking at the journey behind you? Or are you looking ahead to know when to get out of the way?

 

Peace

Steve

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