Friends, happy March. May it be drier than the previous days of 2020.
May it also come with perspective.
Gang, we are to a place that the panic and fear about the coronavirus is every bit as dangerous as the virus itself.
Did you know that one person in California — one, in the most populous state in the union — has died from coronavirus? Heck, OJ did more damage than that. The Nashville tornadoes earlier this week killed twice as many Americans as the coronavirus, friends.
Maybe if we continue the good hygiene habit of frequent hand-washing and covering our mouths when we cough or sneeze, the next time one of these bird-flus, swine-flus, Blues Clues, corona-thingys comes calling we'll be ahead of the germ terms.
Speaking of Tennessee tornados...
There are lot of things that are perplexing, sad even.
The cancel culture that reigns over far too many. The social media warriors more worried about the things people write than what's right. The legions of folks who will protest a prayer at a high school football game but are more than happy for the presence of grace-inspired folks at a Snack Pack ministry to try to make sure all of the school kids who don't have enough to eat have access to healthy foods.
Here's a news tidbit that left me shaking my head:
After devastating tornadoes killed more than two dozen Tennesseans and destroyed millions of dollars in property, the Tennessee secretary of state had to issue a warning about fraudulent charities and tornado relief funds.
"Tennesseans are generous and support each other in times of need, and I encourage everyone to be diligent when donating money to charitable organizations," Secretary Tre Hargett was quoted in a release. "Unfortunately, there are scam artists who prey on our generosity after a disaster. Tennesseans should give wisely so that we maximize recovery efforts."
I view the obituaries these days with an introspective eye.
I lost both parents in the last couple of years, and I'll be 50 in October. I notice ages first, wondering about the overlap of quality and quantity of those years.
But then you see the mentions of Ben Matherly, who died earlier this week at the age of 77.
First, if you're lucky, we can all agree that almost every age short of triple digits is too young for someone in your life.
But for those of us wondering if we have experienced life or life experiences, well, look at Matherly.
Matherly served in the U.S. Army. He worked for 15 years at Tennessee Eastman Company. Then he found his professional calling and got a degree and a master's in theology before becoming a Methodist pastor for 41 years.
He worked youth camps, was nicknamed "Magic Man" because of his work with puppets and illusions, was an avid golfer and a second-degree black belt in Tai Kwon Do.
That's living all walks of life rather than just walking through life.
Contact Jay Greeson at firstname.lastname@example.org.