The final launch of the space shuttle Atlantis marks the end of an American era in space. I find it funny that the shuttle program turned 30 years old this year as I turn 30 next week. Perhaps I need to be decommissioned as well?
One of my favorite memories of the shuttle program involves my Grandpa, his motor home, and a trip to the Mohave Desert. I remember my Dad, my brother Mike, and I heading up to my Grandpa’s house one evening. The Space Shuttle was scheduled to land in California the next day. So we met up with my Grandpa Ayers at his home in Orange County and piled into his motor home. Cruising along the highway, I remember driving that night through Los Angeles and into the wilds of the Mohave.
The next morning, we awoke early. It was freezing! My Grandpa turned on the heater which helped quite a bit. Walking outside, we were greeted with a flat expanse of desert, Rogers Dry Lake. I will never forget what happened next, the sonic booms that announced the shuttle’s return to our atmosphere. BOOM, BOOM! With that, the shuttle flew in and landed. 4 hours worth of driving for a priceless experience. Well worth it.
My wife told me this this morning:
Mom remembers watching a launch while in labor with me and then three days later in the hospital she watched it land.
The Space Shuttle has long been a symbol of American pride and of our dominance in space. Today we leave our rightful place among the stars and give it up to the Russians and Chinese; Today is a sad day filled with great memories.
1 Now the men and their wives raised a great outcry against their fellow Jews. 2 Some were saying, “We and our sons and daughters are numerous; in order for us to eat and stay alive, we must get grain.”
3 Others were saying, “We are mortgaging our fields, our vineyards and our homes to get grain during the famine.”
4 Still others were saying, “We have had to borrow money to pay the king’s tax on our fields and vineyards. 5 Although we are of the same flesh and blood as our fellow Jews and though our children are as good as theirs, yet we have to subject our sons and daughters to slavery. Some of our daughters have already been enslaved, but we are powerless, because our fields and our vineyards belong to others.”
6 When I heard their outcry and these charges, I was very angry. 7 I pondered them in my mind and then accused the nobles and officials. I told them, “You are charging your own people interest!” So I called together a large meeting to deal with them 8 and said: “As far as possible, we have bought back our fellow Jews who were sold to the Gentiles. Now you are selling your own people, only for them to be sold back to us!” They kept quiet, because they could find nothing to say.
9 So I continued, “What you are doing is not right. Shouldn’t you walk in the fear of our God to avoid the reproach of our Gentile enemies? 10 I and my brothers and my men are also lending the people money and grain. But let us stop charging interest! 11 Give back to them immediately their fields, vineyards, olive groves and houses, and also the interest you are charging them—one percent of the money, grain, new wine and olive oil.”
12 “We will give it back,” they said. “And we will not demand anything more from them. We will do as you say.” – Nehemiah 5:1-12 (NIV)
As Nehemiah is leading the rebuilding effort of Jerusalem, he is forced to confront poverty and injustice amongst the people. The nobles and officials, fellow countrymen, were causing a vicious cycle to transpire. Their price gouging was causing their fellow Jews to sell their own family members into slavery in order to eat.
First, I cannot ever imagine being in a position where I would be forced to sell my son into slavery in order to eat. To add insult to injury, to have a fellow American force me into this would just be angering. Yet, with the way our consumerist society works, we are constantly selling each other into the slavery of debt. Now there is nothing wrong with buying goods, as long as you have the means to do it.
Second, I can’t believe that the nobles and officials just jumped in line with what Nehemiah was saying. This shows that they knew that what they were doing was wrong and that they feared God.
Injustice is committed against our fellow human beings on a daily basis. What is cool though is that God is committed to justice. He sends people like Nehemiah to speak up on oppressed behalf. If we don’t speak up when we see something unjust, who will?
Growing up, my Dad was a truck driver. This meant that he would be gone for days at a time, come home and sleep, and then eventually hit the road again. I remember how frustrating this was as a kid. When my Dad was gone we lived by my Mom’s rules, which tended to be more relaxed; when my Dad came home, the rules of home life shifted. With my Dad gone, the void of a father figure in my life went largely unfilled. Sure, there were friend’s dads who sometimes took up this mantle but for the most part, my Dad was nonexistent. Looking back now, I can understand that he did what he had to do to support our family. His hard work allowed my Mom to stay home with us kids. I thank him for that. In the thick of growing up though, deep down, I resented his absence.
Thankfully, God knew what I needed, and He provided that for me and my brother in the form of my Grandpa Ayers.
As I get older, nostalgia and time make my Grandpa Ayers larger than life in my mind. The man could do no wrong. During my awkward years of junior high, Grandpa Ayers would drive down from Orange County in his motor home, pick my brother and I up, and head to the local mountains. Away from my Mom we would build fires, hike (with sling shots and pellet guns of course), and enjoy Grandpa’s amazing cooking. At night my Grandpa would play chess with us, tell stories, and sometimes pull out his “thunder lamp”.
BEHOLD, THE THUNDER LAMP!
More than anyone I have ever known, my Grandpa was an expert storyteller. So much so that he began telling you a story when you least realized it. For example, he would plant some thought in your head earlier on in the day and then later that night expound/ act upon it.
I remember one time where he and my Grandma had come over to stay the night at our house. For some reason, the book I was reading was left out on the kitchen counter. That night, my Grandpa must have read parts of that book (about a family mystery in Hawaii) because he later used it in a story he told us late one night in the motor home. I can remember his tone of voice, raspy, telling us about this old man that lived out in the jungle in some lava tubes. Scared me to death!
There was another time/trip where he had shown us some rattle snake eggs he had in the freezer. He was very careful to explain that they had to stay in the freezer, cold, or else the eggs would hatch. This would be a very bad thing… Well of course later on that night or next day, he’d pull out that pouch of rattle snake eggs and scare us to death! He literally had my brother and I bawling our eyes out in fear. So funny to think about now.
Another time he elaborately built this weight system that was rigged up in a raisin box. The box was kept in a cabinet right next to his bed. Later on that night, somehow, he had run a string from the box and out of the cabinet. As we were laying there going to sleep, he started pulling on the string. We kept asking if he heard the noise. Of course, he said no. Eventually, somehow, it turned out there there were mice in the cabinets…so he said. I think this episode ended with my brother and I in tears once again.
My Grandpa Ayers was a relentless tormentor and my brother and I loved him for it. He expertly knew how to build suspense. I can only imagine how much noise fellow campers heard as my brother and I screamed with laughter.
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
July 4, 2011, the United States is faced once again with events that threaten to destroy our great nation. The national debt is out of control, foreign countries own this debt, both threaten to undermine the very freedom we have fought to preserve since our inception. I am saddened that while our elected officials bicker and politic, the freedom that has been purchased with American blood is forgotten and dishonored. Only with God, “under God”, can we bring America back to what it once was. This issue is an issue of the heart, a spiritual civil war. One that can only be won through the saving and changing power of Jesus Christ.
I wish everyone a happy 4th of July! Enjoy that which has been purchased with a price.
Woke up this morning and headed out to the Gregg County Airport. My destination, the LeTourneau University Hanger.
My friend Jon works for the university as a flight instructor. For the longest time, he has been asking me to go fly with him. Finally, last night, I agreed to adventure forth into the American skies. So, we decided that we were going to spend our Saturday morning flying and eating breakfast in Shreveport, Louisiana.
Airport in Shreveport
We had a very relaxing flight to Shreveport. The weather was nice, a tad hazy, but definitely cooler at higher altitudes! Jon was a professional throughout. He constantly talked through what he was doing (even though I had no clue) and was more than willing to explain anything I had questions on. I can see why he has made a great flight instructor!
The instrument panel in the Twin Star looked insane! I have no clue how Jon knew how to do anything with it (beside the hours upon hours of training he has had)! So many buttons…
The last small aircraft I flew in was back in high school. Our home schooling group had decided to check out a program called the Young Eagles. The Young Eagles were a group of private pilots who shared their planes and time in order to stir interest in youth concerning aviation. All I remember about it was thinking that I was going to die because the old man, who was flying the plane, was going to have a heart attack or something. Wish I still had the picture I took of my terrified face…
Our breakfast in Shreveport was amazing! Jon and I had decided to eat at The Cracker Barrel. I swear the french toast I ordered had been fried in butter/ powdered sugar. Sweet Southern goodness!
30 minutes over; 30 minutes back. On the way home, Jon showed me some different flight maneuvers…and we pulled a few G’s. 🙂
I don’t think I had ever realized that one of the approaches into Gregg County was over Lake Cherokee.
The air had finally warmed up by the time we had gotten back to Longview. This made our landing a tad bumpy. Nothing like Texas in the summertime!
Jon and I, two goofballs in a plane.
Lot’s of fun to have a friend who is a pilot! Had a good time hanging out with Jon, talking, and getting to see what he does everyday. If anyone out there is looking for a pilot, Jon is your man.
JohnnyBGamer 