It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Every year in Holland, Michigan is the Tulip Festival. I am not a flower guy, but it seemed like a really good idea for Marsha. Lots of color, people moving around, lots of activity. Very good for someone who has suffered a couple of strokes. So, we made plans to drive up. Just north of Holland is Muskegon, Michigan. There you can board a fast lake ferry and cross Lake Michigan to Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The trip takes two and a half hours. (This was my part of the trip. I am not a flower guy, but I am a water guy.) So, the plan was to drive up on Monday, spend the night, board the ferry on Tuesday morning and go to Milwaukee, spend the night, board the ferry and cross back on Wednesday to Michigan, spend the night and go to the Tulip Festival on Thursday and return home on Friday. Seemed like a good idea.

The trip up on Monday was made on the roughest paved roads I have ever been on. But you allow for construction when you travel in areas that have rough winters. The motel was fine. On Tuesday the boat crossing was a lot of fun and the motel in Milwaukee was OK. Then, however, it all began to unravel.

I got Marsha situated in her room and then, suddenly, she announced she was going down. I grabbed her, but there was no way I could hold her dead weight. All I was able to do was let her down softly. She couldn't move her legs and I, fearing another stroke, called 911. She was not happy about that, but she couldn't move. EMTs got there quickly and transported her to the nearest hospital. It was just after dark and diving the car to the hospital was an experience. I don't see well at night and I was in a strange city. I kept thinking how I was going to explain to our son how I managed to misplace his mother in Milwaukee. In the end I arrived at the hospital where I sat with her all night, first in the ER lobby and then in an ER room. They finally determined it was not a stroke. She was dehydrated and had an infection. She was released just before daylight (so another trip in a strange city in the dark) and we managed to get two hours of sleep before we needed to get back to the dock for the ferry. I dozed most of the crossing and when we got back to the Michigan motel, we were both so tired we could do nothing. 

The star of the trip, though, was to be the Tulip Festival. Up on Thursday and in the car. And it began to pour rain. Not a sprinkle. Not a drizzle. A Noah's ark rain. We drove around Holland a bit, but Marsha didn't want to get out and neither did I. So, we left the next morning for Ohio on a beautiful day. The whole trip seemed like a bust. When I talked to my son to tell him of our misadventures, he said, "You know, you could have saved a lot of money by staying in Ohio and getting rained on and taking Mom to the hospital." Smart aleck.

However, I was struck by something during the trip. Milwaukee is a rough town, kind of run down. I am sure there are nice areas, but I have been there twice now and have not seen those areas. The hospital they took Marsha to is a city hospital, and they tend to be burdened down with indigent cases. We waited in the lobby a long while. Some of the people there were in withdrawal because they hadn't gotten their fix for the night. Some were falling down drunk. Some were there just to be able to be inside for the night. People everywhere. People with failing lives, just wanting their next bottle or injection or pill. As I watched all of this misery around me, it occurred to me that they didn't even know they were in misery. They were just living life as usual.

Then I took a long look at the professionals who were handling these cases. Competent nurses and aides, smart young people checking folks in, police officers and security personnel treating everyone with respect and two or three young doctors going from one to the next. All of the professionals and all the patients were in a ten year range of each other. Marsha and I were the oldest people there. As I looked around, I wondered what the difference was among these people.

Society will tell you it is white privilege. The poor were slaves, after all, held down by their white masters. Except, the professionals were about evenly split between white and black. Others would say that the economic divide keeps the poor poorer and the rich richer, but that doesn't explain it, either. Some would say it was bad parenting, but we all know some who have good children and then a troubled child. Some would say it came down to gender confusion, but that is just the current, nonsense cause of the day. 

So, what is the reason?

I don't really know. Some were driven to do well, some just were content to fail. I suppose it comes down to attitude, but how is a good attitude generated? What makes one look to the future and another look for the pleasure of the moment. The desire to have a reason to live?

There can be a lot of things that triggers a good response. But I see life differently from the world. I would love to introduce you to this doctor I know, two veterinarians, several nurses, teachers, a football coach, a lawyer, a few dynamite homemakers, a couple who have gone out and started their own businesses, a Marine, one who is a successful relator, several tool and die makers, a man who can make works of art with bricks and his brother who is a master carpenter and several others who are successful in their own fields. People who were in a church I pastored? Yes, sort of. Kids in my youth groups who were taught to love and respect the Word of God. And almost all of those kids will be in church somewhere this Sunday.

Proverbs 22:6 "Raise up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it." The world would scoff, but I speak from my own experience.

Be faithful.