What did you miss today?

Thinking is hard.  No, really it is.  Think about for a minute.  A full minute.  You don't want to think about thinking?  Neither do I.  So instead of thinking about thinking, let's think about what you missed today.    

This morning as you drove to work was the first traffic light you came to green or red?  You knew that answer as you were a few feet from it, but now the memory is gone.  Experts tell us that we have short-term memory which allows us to recall something that we experienced a few seconds earlier and, if its importance to us is minimal, quickly forget it.

Then there are the things that seem common place because we have experienced them so frequently.  Sometimes these things are quite extraordinary, but because they are repetitive they lose their impact and then their value to us.  Several weeks ago my son Dan and I were driving through the Illinois prairie in the early evening.  The flat farmland of Illinois has one advantage:  there is nothing to obscure your view of a sunset.  As I concentrated on driving, Dan looked to the West and said, "I don't know how anybody could be tired of sunsets.  I know you see it everyday, but when you think about it they are amazing.  Each one is different."  Now as sunsets go, this one was mundane.  No palm trees, sand beaches, and ocean waves to frame the foreground.  No kaleidoscopic range of colors and shadows on a canyon wall.  No beams of light breaking through cloud shapes that resembled animals or mythological creatures.  Heck there wasn't even a gnarled tree or old barn which the sun was dipping behind.  Of the better than 19,000 sunsets that I had experienced this one was frankly below average.  But Dan was right, it really was awesome.  What was wrong was my failure to appreciate how awesome it truly was.

Then there are those things that we miss because we are distracted.  Sometimes we are distracted by the general busyness around us or we are focused on a task that has been given to us.  Check out the link.

Last, there are the things that we miss because they don't fit into our agenda.  Thankfully, the good folks in the field of television have produced the technology of recording.  You can attend Cousin Clarice's daughter's oboe recital AND not miss the latest episode of your favorite reality television show that graces the airwaves.  But how about the things we miss because they are connected to people who don't fit into our agenda.  You know some of them by what they do, if not by their names.  The checkout clerk that is developing wrist pain scanning hundreds of food and merchandise items each hour.  Do you look her in the eye?  Glance at his name tag?  Have a conversation that consists of more than "Paper or plastic?"  "Plastic.  And be sure to bag the meat separately."?

I had a dream a week ago and when I awoke I had the phrase "The next ten for ten" in my consciousness.   I understood it to mean that I needed to spend ten minutes learning about the next ten of these people that flit into my life solely to serve me.  The bagger at Dillons with the funky haircut is named John.  He cut and shaved the design in his hair.  He hopes to be accepted into a barber school.  Lisa served my wife and I our Valentine's Day dinner.  That afternoon she spent the day with her boyfriend at a candy store picking out treats for each other.  She moved to Kansas from Colorado two years ago to be with him.

Who will I meet tomorrow?  I don't know, but I do know that God wants me to honor them the way he honors them.  To treat them with respect.  To care for them.  Perhaps to share a laugh or a burden as we travel down the road together.  Love God.  Love people.

The Runaway Bunny

There were many stories that I read to my children at bed time when they were younger.   Richard Scarry's Bedtime Stories were usually preferred by Ali while Dan insisted on Green Eggs and Ham.   Great memories that I have with my children.

Another favorite was The Runaway Bunny written by Margaret Wise Brown and illustrated by Clement Ward.  The little bunny tells his mother that he will runaway, and she answers that if he runs away she will run after him because he is her little bunny. The little bunny then says if his mother runs after him he will become a fish and swim away.  Mother bunny becomes a fisherman to catch him.  The little bunny becomes a rock on a mountain, but mother climbs to where he is.  Then she becomes a gardener to find him in a secret garden.


                       



A bird?  Mother becomes the tree that he will come home to.



                       



A sailboat?  Mother becomes the wind to blow him where she wills.

                        

The little bunny joins the circus, but mother walks across a tightrope to join him.  He then becomes a little boy and runs into a house.  Mother says she will catch him in her arms and hug him.

What a reassuring story for little ones to hear.  They hear that they are loved.   The beautiful artwork reinforces that they can never outrun that love.  (To my college junior and high school senior I would add that they can't outgrow that love either).

I think that this childhood classic gives a small glimpse of how God feels about us.  He loves us, his children, and despite our efforts to run away from Him he pursues us out of love.  We recently celebrated the culmination of that love:  the birth of Jesus.  God pursued us to the point of dying for our waywardness despite our avoidance and running away from Him.

The little bunny recognizes that he can never escape his mother's loves and says, "Shucks, I might just as well stay where I am and be your little bunny!"   The wise little bunny has a wonderful lesson for us.  Don't run away from your heavenly father.  Accept his love and be His little bunny.

...And the Third Wise (Wo)man brought a Mustard Seed.

  

                      

     I know little about mustard.  I know that I like it on hot dogs and that there are spicy and mild types.  I also know that Jesus used the analogy of its small seed becoming a great bush to describe the kingdom of heaven.  I was reminded recently at how God can use seemingly small things to move in great ways.
     Donald Miller is one of my favorite authors.  His theme in his book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, is for us to live a better story: a life of significance.  He recently spoke at the university my daughter attends and passed out envelopes which contained small amounts of money to each student and challenged them to use the money to live a life of significance.  One young woman received five dollars.
     What could she do with this small mustard seed?  Drop it in the bucket of a sidewalk Santa?  Slip a bag of food from a fast food restaurant into the outstretched hand of a homeless person?  Nothing wrong with these options, but they really don't require much thought or effort.  And, they fail in the challenge to LIVE a life of significance.
     Our young friend reflected deeply on the challenge and bought a face painting kit, went to a town fair, and painted children's faces for a small fee.  As she painted she explained the challenge to the parents.  In one afternoon she multiplied the $5 to $465 which was donated to an organization which helps the disadvantaged members of our world!  And, more important, others saw the young woman LIVING a life of significance, and perhaps were motivated to live like that as well.  The little mustard seed became a great tree in which birds could perch.
    

And the Second Wiseman Brought Milk

My friend told a part of his family's history to a group of high school students at their Sunday evening worship service at our church.  During the Great Depression his grandfather was a teenager in the rural Midwest and he rounded with a milkman.  The young man noticed that the milkman was different.  Despite the economic hardships and gloomy uncertainty of the future, he was giving.  The milk was never withheld if a family couldn't pay for it.  Someone walking down a road was offered a lift.  Kindness was shown.

During their hours together, the two men likely talked about many things including sports, town events and personalities, and national and world events.  We don't know their words.  My friend doesn't know.  Probably because for whatever they seemed at the time, the words they spoke weren't that important.  The people that they discussed are long gone and the events are dusty memories in scrapbooks found in attics and antique stores.  From the eternal perspective they were non-events.

There was something else that the milkman talked about, however, that is known.  He shared the life and words of Jesus.  He told the young man that the original relationship between God and man became broken because another young man, Adam, chose to go his own way.  And that decision was sin.  He explained that all of us have sinned against this Holy God, and that a division between the created and the Creator exists which can never be bridged by man's efforts, however well-intended or good or "holy" they seem to him.  He shared that God, in the form of Jesus, humbled himself by leaving the unknown glories of heaven and the constant presence of God the Father and the Spirit to be born to an unmarried teenager in a manure-strewn barn in an insignificant village in the land of a conquered people who were in the process of being counted and taxed.  The milkman spoke about the words and actions of Jesus, and how those words and actions caused him to be hated by the elite.  He told how one of his followers betrayed him for the amount of money that a slave was worth.  He told how his friends ran away when he was arrested, and how one of his best friends, a man named Peter, denied that he even knew him.  Finally, the milkman told how Jesus remained obedient to God the Father, and allowed himself to be hung on a cross, died, and then rose from the dead to forever bridge the great division between men like the milkman and the teenager and God.

The teenager accepted the truth of the milkman's words and chose to follow Jesus.  His actions caused his family to disown him and throw him out of their home.  Alone, he chose to learn more about Jesus and he hitch-hiked to a large city where he studied and became a minister.  Like the milkman he too told the story of Jesus.  Many believed, including some of his family, and their lives and the world have been changed because of it.

In this time of Christmas tell the story.  Go tell it on the mountains, over the hills, and everywhere.

Message From the First of the Wisemen

  



                                                            

     A good friend of mine is a student at a prestigious university.  Diligent in his studies, he has been honored with recognition for his achievement.  The adage of silent waters running deep was never truer, and his words bear an insight that is not often seen in a man of his age.

     He recently was reflecting on the loss of his mother to cancer while he was still a teenager.  He offered that at first he thought that the tragedy had some lesson that he and others were to learn.  You know the thinking, "God permitted this to happen so that so-and-so would learn such-and-such or experience this-or-that."  Sometimes well-intended folks say this in their attempts to comfort the bereaved.

     Pretty common thinking.  I've heard it preached from the pulpit when Matthew 9:18-26 was the lesson:  "God used the death of Jarius' daughter to reveal his power over death.  This miracle brought many people to realize that Jesus was the Messiah."  Certainly both points are true, but that thinking scratches only the surface.

     My friend stated that while trying to connect the dots between the death of his mother and the unfolding of his and others lives, he realized that such efforts were in vain.  He said that her illness had lessons that were between her and God.  He added that how he reacted to it was between him and God.  Not accepting the limitation of human thinking and understanding to determine what the divine perspective is.  These actions place God in a box that is convenient for us to carry.  I don't believe that God wants us to carry him in times of tragedy such as this.  Rather, he wants us to trust enough that he can carry us.

Food Glorious Food--Part Two

     Years ago when our daughter and son were young, my wife and I were discussing a parenting concern and she asked, "How do we know if we're making the right decision?"
      I answered, "We don't now, but will when they're 18 or so."
     As parents we insured that they had their immunizations, ate balanced meals, studied and played.  And we prayed.  A lot.  Every day.  We prayed for the wisdom to recognize where their God-given abilities lay.  We recognized that even though their cells contained some of our DNA they weren't really "ours" but rather were God's.  The word our indicates possession; possession indicates control.  Parents aren't called to control their children, but rather to shepherd them.
     Shepherds, abiding by their flocks at night, are apropos during this Christmas season.  They protected their flocks from external dangers.  They insured that they ate appropriate foods and drank safe water and had enough rest.  They did this by leading and not by pushing or pulling.
     When our daughter was enrolling in college there were a series of activities and seminars for the parents.  The dean gave us the wise advice that in conversations with our freshman we replace the verbs  must, should, need to, have to, and can't with ones like might and consider.  A shepherd knows that these are better words to use as our children transition into our peers.

                    

 
     So what is the connection to food?  Our son has resumed eating like a normal teenager because he has decided to stop wrestling.  Gone is a 4 inch piece of celery for dinner and in its place is an 8 piece serving of boneless wings and potato wedges covered with cheese.  Gone is the starving, dehydrated, cranky 130lb-er.  The contented 145lb-er has returned.  Food glorious food!
     Dale and I are disappointed that he won't be competing in a winter sport--the first time since the fourth grade that we won't be sitting in a bleacher watching him--but we couldn't be prouder.  He assessed his situation, thought about his options, and prayed for wisdom.  He then articulated the reasons behind his thinking; no more "I just want to."  He went to practice and practiced with the intensity that his coach valued enough to name him one of the co-captains at the start of the season.  Last he looked his coach in the eye and explained that he could no longer compete for the team.
 
                               



                            2010 Season Record at 130 lbs:   5-3 with 4 pins, 27 total points

 

                                                               Way to go, Dano!
















                                                        

Say Yes to the Dress

A few weeks ago my wife, daughter and I were watching this popular reality wedding dress selection show--wow, what does that say about our society?--and I realized how little I remember about the high cost items at the weddings I've attended.  I could probably come up with some of the music:  "Here Comes the Bride", "YMCA", and perhaps an inebriated man channeling Frank Sinatra with a bad karaoke version of "New York, New York".  The food at the reception?  Not a chance, although I do remember that we had shrimp during the cocktail hour at my wedding.  Flowers, invitations, colors of cummerbunds and bridesmaids' dresses all are a blur.  And as for the most expensive item, the bridal dress, hey if I don't remember the food I sure don't remember that.


                                




But, I do remember some of the words spoken over 25 years ago to the bride and groom by a priest.  He recalled the words of a popular song from the post-WWII era, "Little Things Mean A Lot", and advised that the big things in life like a major illness in a child draw the man and woman closer together.  However, little things like dirty socks that don't make it to the hamper can become the sand between the gears that spell doom.  Every day dirty socks.  On the floor.  Not in the hamper.  Crunch...grind...cough...sputter.


Another little thing can be that the couple speaks different love languages.  Looking for a good gift this Christmas season for a couple in your life?  Consider the Love Languages by Gary Chapman.  Compared to the cost of a wedding dress, it is a little thing, but it could allow a husband and wife or engaged couple to have a greater understanding of each other and keep the machine running.