Murphy's Law

A few days ago on my way to a doctor's appointment that I naturally was late for, it seemed everytime I would get a break in traffic, a very slow elderly driver would pull out in front of me and drive what seemed like fifteen miles per hour. Murphy's Law- when an individual is late, every slow poke, school bus, garbage truck, HAS to pull out in front to make one even later.

After several other experiences this week that were easily chalked up to good 'ol Murphy, I began wondering, "Just who is this Murhpy anyways?" Is there really a Murphy's Law, and was he a real person? How can we attribute everything that seemingly goes wrong to one law? I decided a little sleuthing was in order. This is what I found.

According to excerpts in an article from The Desert Wings in 1978, Murphy's Law is described as "If anything can go wrong, it will". It all began at Edwards Air Force Base in 1949. Working on a special project, Captain Edward Murhpy, an Air Force engineer, found some transducers to be wired incorrectly. Disgruntled, he cursed the technician responsible for the error commenting, "If there is any way to do it wrong, he'll find it." Following that remark, the project manager maintained a list of "laws", which included this "Murphy's Law".

According to history, Murhpy was not the first to coin this law. It has presented itself in various names and fronts, but all with the same meaning. Perhaps we will never know the truw emergence of this law, but rest assured that we can continue to blame any mishap or ill event on Murphy.

Patriot's Day

Yesterday was of course Patriots Day, a day in Massachusetts to commemorate the Battles of Lexington and Concord; the beginning of the revolutionary war. Growing up on a bordering town, I used to arise early with my Dad to attend some of the reenactments. There were commemorative events right there in my town as we saw the Sudbury Militia gather and march towards Concord. We sometimes headed over to Old North Bridge in Concord as well. Other years, we headed in closer to Boston to cheer on the marathoners. Looking back, I realize how fortunate I was to have grown up in an area with a wealth of history and significance.

One year when I was older, my Dad ran the Boston Marathon. He was not offically a qualifer, but he did run it and that in my opinion is quite an accomplishment. He wrote the following poem as a reflection upon his run.

Musings
on the
Marathon Metaphor

Our lives, truly are like a marathon
We cannot see the end from the beginning,
nor from points along the way.
We rely on mile markers to tell us we're on course,
and on cheering throngs to help us bear the pain.
The end of the race is clearly marked;
so too, the end of life.
There is no doubt when you cross the line;
or cross the veil;
there is only relief, again.
But some will say life is NOT like that race;
there are no crowds to cheer us on.
The cheers were there only for those others that before us passed,
the worthy ones,
not such as we.
It is only us,
on our own;
battling the "Heartbreak Hills" of life.
Hoping that the next step,
the next breath
won't be quite as painful as the last.

The crowds ARE there,
we just don't see;
they are all who have gone before, or who are yet to be.
We may not see them as we run;
but when the film of our life is shown,
we'll clearly see them all along the way.
Our parents,
our family,
those for whom we've done the work,
and those we've helped along the way.
They will all be there, with a cup of water, a word of cheer,
or just a smile to help us through that next long mile.

But wait, who is that we finally see?
Someone to help us? Someone to care?
Or just the other; the one who whispers in our ear,
"Foolish child, YOU can't do that!"
His presence is always there.
Reminding us we're too frail;
or too slow;
or just not worthy enough to seek that goal.
He plants the seed;
we tend it well,
for we know he's right, that we can’t succeed.

But wait,
suddenly there's a flash of something not quite seen.
Something felt;
something known.
The sure knowledge that we CAN do this thing!
Perhaps not fast;
perhaps not fancy;
but does that matter?
We were never told there was a time limit;
only a course to run; a life to lead.

Some, swifter by far than we,
will be done long before we're even half way.
But that matters not to those that wait along the route.
They know we're on the course,
and that we'll need their strength and support.
That faith, that "living water"
is all we'll need to stay the course;
to do the miles, and endure the pain.

Will we be victorious?
Every spirit that endures to the end
will reap the prize that Father promised
when first that earthly challenge we accepted.
And, for each that achieves the goal will be the phrase,
"Well done, thou true and faithful servant."
And the loving embrace of our Elder Brother;
and the peace that comes from returning home.
And the best part of all is just to know,
His love is there for me;
for me;
yes, even for ME!


April 17, 1995

First time Easter

This was the first year we held Easter at our home. Above is a photo of Little Miss Sunshine and her two cousins. Guitar Daddy's extended family came over for a total of 16 people. Well, two were sick and were unable to come at the last minute. I was so grateful that everyone chipped in and brought something which helped a lot since we had church in the morning. Our home isn't too big as we live in a little cape style house, but we managed to have everyone seated at a table. Unfortunately in time, as families continue to grow, I don't think we'll be able to continue it that way.

I found some carrot shaped bags at Walmart and brilliant me thought it would be so great to fill them with orange jelly bellies and put them on everyone plates. While at the cash register at the candy store I nearly fell over when my purchase rang up to $72. Oops. Guitar Daddy would not be pleased. My father-in-law called and said he would make the ham. Normally that would be great, and just think, that would deduct some money off my jelly belly bill! Of course I had already purchased the ham ($23). I hate ham and would never make it for ourselves, and it was too late to return it, so at least I was able to serve my neighbors and give them a nice ham.

Little Miss Sunshine was delighted with her Easter basket and loved all of the little trinkets. She especially enjoyed the wind up bunny which pleased me as I intentionally purchased it knowing what a great fine motor activity it would be. She was thrilled to wear a new pink dress, but not as happy to wear a hand quilted jacket sewn by one of my mother's friends. Please just keep it on for a few minutes, I have to send Grandma a picture!

A novice bread baker, I was happy my rolls turned out just right. Maybe there's hope after all! I was a little disappointed that after my hard and loving work, no one commented on the homemade rolls. Oh well.

We had a short Easter egg hunt in our yard. Overall it was a nice day and at the end, Guitar Daddy was even able to share his testimony of the resurrection with his family, all of whom are not members of our church.