Swimming in Cold Water

 Misc.  3 Responses »
Oct 022011
 

The pool is closed.  We put the cover on it yesterday, but not before I took one last swim.  The water was a cool 72 degrees.  The air was just a little warmer, and the sun was shining through a clear blue sky.  The sparkling fresh water was just daring me to jump in.  I did it.  The water was cold and a little bit of a shock, but I jumped in anyway, and in the process, found joy.

There is something about acts like this that lift my sprit.  I don’t know why.  I hope it’s not a character flaw.  What I THINK I like, is to be comfortable.  To sit and relax.  To do the easy things.  To do the usual, normal things.  But what I find brings me joy is to suck it up every now and then and force myself to do something just a little out of that box.  I couldn’t resist the urge to add to my “Fun things I did this year” resume: Went swimming in October.  Been there, done that.   What’s next?

Who Does the Cleaning?

 Consider This  3 Responses »
Sep 192011
 

We received a brochure in the mail this past weekend.  The catch-phrase on the front said, “Life’s too short to clean your own home.”  I had to read it twice.  It sounded crazy.  Now it has me thinking, and I am coming up with more questions than answers.

If life is too short to clean your own home, then who do you hire to do it?  Someone with a long enough life to clean both their own home and yours?  Jesus had a short earthly life, yet he spent 30 out of 33 years as a carpenter’s son.  Was his life not too short to spend most of it helping Joseph build furniture or Mary clean house.  This was the guy who washed his disciples feet.  Do you think he never washed a dish? I wonder, are we told so little about the first 30 years of Jesus’ life because . . . there just isn’t much to tell? Someday I will get the chance to ask Him what He did all those years. I wont be surprised if he says he mostly just worked in a wood shop and helped out around the house.

Life is too short to waste a single moment doing something other than what God wants.  The tricky part for me is figuring out what that is.  Sometimes, it might be going on a mission trip.  And sometimes, it might just be helping clean the house . . . with a good attitude.  Whether it is working, playing, helping others, or cleaning house, I want to strive to always be about the Father’s business.   A wasted life may be determined not so much by what I do, but by how I do it, and who I do it for.

 

So Jesus, when he began his ministry, was about thirty years old.  – Luke 3:23a

Now Jesus left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him.  When the Sabbath came, he began to teach in the synagogue. Many who heard him were astonished, saying, “Where did he get these ideas? And what is this wisdom that has been given to him? What are these miracles that are done through his hands?  Isn’t this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James, Joses, Judas, and Simon? And aren’t his sisters here with us?” And so they took offense at him.
– Mark 6:1-3  NET

Loving Crows a Little More

 Misc.  5 Responses »
Sep 132011
 

I think I would rather be a crow than a hummingbird.  Crows are smart.  Hummingbirds are not.  I realized this fact this past weekend, when a hummingbird flew into our garage and could not find his way back out.  The large garage door was wide open, but still, he buzzed about inside, incapable of figuring out how to fly below the raised door to freedom.

God has made all kinds of creatures and all kinds of people.  Crows are large, ugly, black and noisy.  Hummingbirds are small, cute, beautifully colorful creatures.  So, we feed hummingbirds, and shoot crows.  This is one of those situations when I really do wonder:  What would Jesus do?

Somewhere on I-75

 Misc.  2 Responses »
Aug 242011
 

This is a rest area blog post.  I am writing it on my cell phone while sitting at an I-75 rest area somewhere between Chattanooga and Atlanta.  I was getting tired of driving, so I am taking a break.  If I stopped at every rest area along the way, it might be tough to make it to my destination.  But sometimes, when you are tired, stopping at a rest area is precisely what you need to do to insure you do make it to your destination.

I guess life has rest areas too.  I think maybe I have driven right by some where I should have stopped.  And, stopped at some I should have driven by.  Sometimes they are hard to recognize.   I guess the most important thing is to stay headed in the right direction.

Time to get back on the road.  Home is waiting.

Banjo Theory

 Misc.  3 Responses »
Aug 172011
 

I purchased a banjo a couple of weeks ago.  After two weeks of testing, I am fairly certain that one may not play a banjo and be sad at the same time. If a sad person tries to play the banjo, either they will become happy in very short order, or they will promptly put the banjo down, being unable to play it. Banjos will not abide sad players.

I suspect there is a similar issue at work when we praise God, but I’m still investigating that one.

I Never Eat There

 Consider This, Misc.  1 Response »
Aug 032011
 

I ate at McDonalds for lunch today.  I proudly marched right in and I didn’t even have a kid with me.  I even liked the food.

There.  I’ve said it.  What almost no one else will admit.  Ask just about anybody about McDonalds and they will get this high-brow look on their face as they tip their head ever so slightly back, looking down their nose at you.  “McDonalds?  Uuggh!  We hardly ever go there unless the kids insist.”  It’s what they say, but I don’t think it’s what they do.  If it were, McDonalds would be a lot less busy at lunch, and nearly everybody there would be under the age of 10.

At lunch today I saw kids and parents, single people, business people, people in ties, people in uniforms, hippies, yuppies, red necks and high brows. They were all there, but none of them like McDonalds.  If you ask them, none of them eat there.

So what makes people this way?  Why do we all refuse to admit that we actually like to eat at McDonalds on occasion?  I think I know.  It’s pride.  We think people will think less of us if they know we indulge in a Big Mac, so we fall victim to an issue that got the Pharisees in so much trouble over 2000 years ago.  A pet sin that grew so ugly it demanded Jesus’ death rather than admit its own existence.  The sin that tries to hide all others.

That site where they serve all those x-rated pictures?  Uuggh!  I never go there!  Juicy gossip?  Are you kidding me?  That’s so unhealthy!  I would never consume that!  Dishonesty?  Never.  We meet our Christian friends at church then head to lunch for some holy fellowship.  We pass right by the busy McDonalds, but nobody even suggests we go there.  Why would we?  Nobody eats at McDonalds.

 

“Two men went to the Temple to pray. One was a Pharisee, and the other was a despised tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed this prayer: `I thank you, God, that I am not a sinner like everyone else. For I don’t cheat, I don’t sin, and I don’t commit adultery. I’m certainly not like that tax collector! I fast twice a week, and I give you a tenth of my income.’
“But the tax collector stood at a distance and dared not even lift his eyes to heaven as he prayed. Instead, he beat his chest in sorrow, saying, `O God, be merciful to me, for I am a sinner.’ I tell you, this sinner, not the Pharisee, returned home justified before God. For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
     – Luke 18:10-14 NLT

Living Life in Chunks

 Misc.  4 Responses »
Jul 282011
 

I am quickly approaching another birthday. It’s funny how we think of getting older only on our birthday, like it happens only one day of the year. Really, I am getting older every second, but like most people, I live life in chunks.  We all divide up our days in nice neat sections; chunks of time. Big chunks like our 25th or 50th wedding anniversary. Yearly chunks, like when we become “a year older.” Or even smaller ones, like seasons, months, or week-ends. We even divide the days into “working hours” and “quitting time.”

Big or little, we see our time pass by in chunks.  The whole world recognizes many of them in the same way.   A week is seven days.  A day is 24 hours, no matter where you live.   The sun may not take the same track in the sky, but unless you live on another planet, a day is pretty much 24 hours.   Most of us agree on the calendar too.  In fact, we divide it into two really big chunks.   We have the years “BC” counting backwards, and then the years “AD” counting forwards.

More recently, the BC / AD convention has been called into question.  Folks don’t like what the “BC” and “AD” stand for, so they changed it.  They now call it “BCE” and “CE”.   The “Common Era” they call it.  Personally, I think it’s a bit laughable to change the name.  The dividing line is still the same, and no matter what you call the eras on each side of the line, we all still know Who the line is.  Isn’t it interesting how our calendar consists of two infinite chunks.   All of time stretching forever in both directions from a single point.  Eternity, divided by a birthday.

My Favorite Channel

 Misc.  2 Responses »
Jul 182011
 

Sam Watches the Falls

We took a short vacation this week-end and went to one of my favorite places: Cloudland Canyon State Park.  I never get tired of looking at the natural beauty there.   On Sunday morning, Sam and I skipped a traditional worship service and made the 3 mile hike down (and back up!) more than a thousand stairs.  Near the bottom of the canyon, we worshiped the Creator of two beautiful waterfalls.  We stood for a while, immersed in nature’s spectacular visual display.  Every direction, every perspective, provided a feast for the eyes.

Finally, we just sat for a while and watched the water fall over the canyon bluff.  Sam said it was like watching “nature’s TV.”   I think he is right.  My compliments and admiration go to the Producer of the show.

 

 

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