Musings

By Victor Nippert

From his rooftop at home to a kiva in the west, Vic Nippert gives us his humorous and philosophical views of the world, the meaning of life, and growing up. His stories and humor can be read at bedtime, as pulpit homilies, and everything in between. This collection of what may be called homilies came about as the result of his church asking for material for their monthly newsletter. Having written and edited some newsletters, he knew that was a plea for help from the newsletter editor. It is a sign that the editor has run out of his own material, and they would either lose a good editor or lose the newsletter, or both! So, he said, "Okay, I can come up with something that might work with the congregation," and volunteered to come up with something every month. Someone once said that writing is easy, "just sit staring at a blank piece of paper until drops of blood start forming on your forehead!" Well, that has not happened so far, but he has come close. So he made up some rules for himself, write what he knows about, keep it easy to read and keep it short, a page or two max. Oh, and try to put some chuckles in each article, something that most folks could smile and identify with. A good number of their congregation asked him when he was going to write a book. He really stalled at that, not sure whether he was up to it or whether it would be well received, but sometime ago, he heard an adage that a man had to do three things in his life, plant a tree, have children, and write a book. So, after deep thinking, he hoped a collection of his articles would qualify as a book! He wanted to thank all the church members who enjoyed the articles (or homilies), asked for more, and then pushed him to publish this collection. Of course, no long-married writer should avoid dedicating his work to his wife. Tena has put up with a lot of interesting adventures with him, and he prays she continues to do so for a long time. They are at sixty-one years of marriage as he writes this and have four great kids who serve the public well in their professions. They are enormously proud of them. This was really an enjoyable adventure for him, and he hopes all of you find the time to put your thoughts and memories in writing too! Enjoy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781644687529

Book preview

A Breath Prayer

Pastor Bob was delivering his sermon, pacing at the front of the sanctuary one Sunday, when he translated a phrase from an ancient Jewish text, a phrase that sent me off into a whole different train of thought. The translated phrase was, Listen! God is only one breath away.

My experiences in life caused my brain to go off like a July fireworks display—my thoughts going in all directions at once.

Wait, hold it! Are we talking about the seconds of suspense before a baby’s first breath? It’s the time of the first cry that signals a new life is with us and has passed its first test. We may be disgruntled by that cry happening at 2:00 a.m. weeks later, but for those first seconds after delivery, everyone waits in anticipation for the sound of that first breath, and the baby’s first cry brings a smile to everyone who can hear it. God is only one breath away.

Or maybe we are talking about the thrashing person or child, eyes bulging, underwater with bubbles of life-giving air exploding from his mouth in the throes of drowning, and a lifesaving hand reaches down to grasp those frantically waving hands at the waters’ churning surface? The coughing gasp of air when the face reaches the surface signals God was only one breath away.

Or perhaps when the night is darkest and the world is still, we hear our own breath softly passing in and out, in and out while we contemplate things from our past or present or future? Is God listening too? How long will the inspiration and expiration of life-sustaining air go on? God is only a breath away.

Michelangelo, famous for his painting of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel ceiling, filled one area of the ceiling illustrating the second before God touches one of Adam’s fingers with his finger, conferring life and breath to the symbol of early humanity. In that one painting, Michelangelo is saying God is a touch and a breath away.

We take breathing for granted, that is until we have difficulty breathing with a cold or pneumonia or bronchitis or when we’ve inhaled something that is toxic. Then the fight to catch your breath is on, and we know that it’s time to do something about it. I remember vividly when I was really young, my mother melting a spoonful of Vicks VapoRub over a lamp and getting me to swallow it when I was having trouble breathing. She was from New England and came from a farm family, so home remedies were the first thing she tried for everything! So far, I’m still breathing.

In first aid courses, we are taught that with any situation with an unconscious victim to do the ABCs. Check first for an open airway. Next, check for breathing (air getting in and out), Thirdly, check for circulation of blood. If they are all there, then you can look for less obvious things. But it’s always check for breathing first! Establish an open airway and breathing first before you do anything else, otherwise the rest will be for naught. No oxygen, no life. God is only a breath away.

We take breathing for granted until we can’t.

A good friend and neighbor of mine has been through several bouts with skin cancer and has now had four surgeries on his ankle and foot. The skin cancer came back after the first two surgeries despite some serious work, and it required a third surgery, taking away a much larger patch of skin and transplanting skin from his thigh to cover the exposed tissue from his ankle to the bottom of his foot. He tells me the area of lost skin on the thigh hurt worse than the ankle and foot! Well, as it turned out, the part of the skin on the base of his foot only took partially, and he had to return for another surgery (and a transplant from skin off his other thigh) to cover the area that had to be redone. He’s doing fine now and is back doing activities that would wear out most of us pretty quickly. The reason I bring this up is because of the story he told me about his last surgery.

Upon his first visit to Sloane Kettering, he and his wife were greeted by a young fellow carrying a guitar. The young guy introduced himself and said if my friend was getting anxious or in pain, he would come to his room and play and perhaps sing for him if he wanted. My friend said sure, I’m all for it. And so, it happened. He showed up, and they talked, and the fellow played his guitar, and it was relaxing for my friend and his wife. This young man showed up each time my friend was back at Sloane Kettering, and by the third surgery, he had brought a friend with him who carried a fan and helped my friend cool down because the room was warm, and using the fan felt like an ocean breeze, very relaxing. The last time my friend was there for his latest surgery, and we hope it’s the last time he’ll go through this, the young fellow showed up again with his pal, and the guitar was brought out. My friend was in the pre-op stage. He had been given a sedative before they would wheel him into surgery, and as he was beginning to fall asleep, he felt a cool breeze wafting over him. It was very soothing and relaxing, and he remembers nothing after that, except waking up with another big bandage on his foot and his wife smiling over him.

He’s given a lot of thought about that last time because when he and his wife went back for a check on the foot to see if healing was going on, he asked about the young guy who played the guitar for him and his buddy who had the fan. Nobody in the hospital knew anything about such a guy. Never saw him or heard him or his buddy. Nor had any other patient ever said anything about him.

My friend’s wife had seen and talked with them both too.

My friend says he had always read and heard about the spirit of God being present and felt by others, but he thought it was just a metaphorical thing and not real. His experience has changed his mind.

Perhaps his experience was the feeling of God’s breath on him.

Pastor Dave, when he was with us, would frequently use the phrase breath prayer in his sermons, referring to the short-sentenced exhalations we use in giving thanks to or praising God or asking God to forgive us for something we said or did that we weren’t proud of. I’ve done it often, and I’ll bet you have done it too. God and his presence in our lives is only a breath away.

Sometimes all we have to do is block out the noise in our lives and listen for it or feel it.

A Clean Well-Lighted Place

Here you are, said the waitress as she put a tray in front of us. We hadn’t been sitting down for more than a minute, and there she was with our usual breakfast drinks of tea and orange juice. We hadn’t seen her or looked for her, but she spotted us coming in and remembered us from a year ago and what our usual breakfast drinks were! Remarkable!

I know you don’t need menus, so I’ll get your usual. She spun around and headed toward the kitchen, all smiles as she passed the usual townies, heard the slightly off-color jokes and their banter and made faces at them. They loved it.

My wife and I gaped at each other. How did she remember?

She brought our usual, pancakes for Tena and eggs for me. She looked at me and smiled and said, I took your advice last year after you were here. Got divorced and enrolled in two community colleges to finish my degree. I usually work here when I’m not in classes. My mom has volunteered to take care of the kids until I get home. Things are good now, and there’s two businesses want me when I graduate!

That’s when it all came swimming up from my brain pool. I had spotted her last year. Pretty downcast, obviously not happy even when I asked, What’s wrong? She’d give me a superficial smile and say, Nothing.

Now guys who have been married for a while know