As Christmas Eve winds down, I think about all the excitement and wonder in homes all over the world. Anticipation is everywhere. How incomparable the excitement, wonder and anticipation must have been on that very first Christmas Eve. All of Heaven’s eyes glued to the scene in a little town, as the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.
Less than three days until Christmas and I still don’t have all my shopping done. Right now it’s down to two of the most difficult gifts I buy every year. Something for my Mom and Dad. From the discussions I have had with others, I can tell there are many in the same situation. Parents are just tough to buy for, and here is a clue why that is. They’re older.
I don’t mean that in a bad way. I just mean they are ahead of me. Most of the “toys” I can think of are in the “been-there-done-that” category for my Dad. If he needs it, and I can afford it, he probably already has it. If he doesn’t have it, it’s because he hasn’t thought of it. And if he hasn’t thought of it, I probably haven’t either, because when it comes to gadgets, we’re just too much alike. Continue reading »
It’s pouring down rain and I have a wet seat. I drive a little Miata convertible with a leaky top. From what I hear, it’s not that unusual. Anybody that has had a convertible for long knows that sooner or later, it will leak. For me, it leaks sooner AND later.
Sometimes the leaky top really frustrates me, but over the years I’ve learned to live with it. I keep extra towels in my car and try to park in spots that lean the right direction so as to run the water in the least leaky fashion. It’s all part of the trade-off. A convertible top is just not ideal for a rainy day . . . but oh when the sun is shining on a beautiful spring day . . . For me, it’s worth the trade-off.
Life is full of trade-offs. Getting wet in the rain versus feeling the sunshine on a spring day. More work hours may equal less family time. A higher paying job may equal more stress. Bigger house, smaller house, cars, toys, fame, responsibility, donations of time and money, everything has trade-offs. I think one of the keys to contentment in life is knowing what to trade, and being happy with the trade-offs you make.
Jesus was the master of trade-offs. Satan offered him some bad trades.
“Turn the rocks into bread and you won’t be hungry,” he said. “Worship me and I’ll give you all the kingdoms of the world,” he offered.
Jesus said, “No thanks.” He had a better trade in mind.
It happened on a cloudy day over 2000 years ago. As the sky grew dark, they nailed Jesus to a cross and a trade-off took place. Many would have thought he got a bad deal. But He saw the future as well as the past. He saw me and all of us who call Him Lord and Master. He saw a world He loved and decided it was worth the trade. He looked through the eons of time, saw me driving my little Miata while talking with Him on a sunny spring day, and traded His life for mine with no reservations. I’m so glad He did. It was the grandest trade-off that will ever be made. And it’s enough to make me sing His praise, even when it’s pouring down rain outside.
For God so loved the world that he gave his only son . . .
Fog.
This morning I drove in it.
Sometimes I almost like it.
It feels . . . cozy.
Only seeing what is near.
All of life is close range.
Atheists must like fog.
They don’t have to see far.
Last night it got cold. This morning the hornets are gone, and I didn’t have to do a thing. I guess sometimes the easiest battle you ever fight is the one you never fight.
This summer, we noticed a hornets’ nest up in the magnolia tree. It was right in the front yard and I was afraid someone would get stung so I prepared to do battle. A can of Wasp and Hornet Spray was the weapon of choice. I was calculating when I should strike so as to provide minimum danger to me and maximum casualty to the hornets. Then someone made an interesting suggestion: “Why don’t you just leave them alone. They die in the winter anyway.”
It just didn’t seem right, leaving that dangerous nest there. They don’t say, “Mad as a hornet” for nothing. But then I thought about the fact that we had been mowing grass right under that tree for half the summer before we even noticed the nest. Maybe these hornets were not so “mad” after all. No, the real mad one would have been me. Out there fighting a battle I didn’t have to fight, because God had it taken care of.
Why should I worry about a hornet problem when God already had that battle won? He’s the one who created hornets as well as the seasons of Fall and Winter. Perhaps I should trust Him to take care of a few more of my battles. Why not? He had the outcome of this hornet thing figured out at the foundation of the world.
I got just what I wanted and I don’t like it. It’s the coffee maker that grinds the beans and makes the coffee automatically. It makes delicious, fresh coffee with little effort on my part . . . the first time. AFTER the first time, you not only have a coffee pot and basket to rinse out, but a grinder mechanism with intricate corners and crevasses that all must be cleaned and dried before it can be used again. It’s more trouble than it’s worth.
Over the years, I have gotten many things that are just what I asked for, but not what I really wanted. This morning it occured to me that the opposite might also be true. There just might be a few things in life that, unwanted and never requested, would be just perfect for me if I would only ask and accept them.
The Thanksgiving holiday is coming to a close and I find my heart finally ready to write a few words regarding those things for which I am thankful. As with most people, I am thankful for many things. However this year I would like to resist the urge to rattle off a long list. Rather than pour out a flood of thanks and have the importance of a single drop be lost in the deluge, I’ll keep my thanks to one thing.
It has been almost three years since my mother-in-law died. When she was alive, we did not always see eye-to-eye but I do believe she loved me, as I did her. When my family went back to the house for Thanksgiving this year, it was not the same. Her absence made a big difference. The house is changing with the times and the place that was so much of her is slowly becoming less and less so. Nevertheless, here and there, in a forgotten corner, you can still find a picture or a trinket. Or perhaps a note written in her hand. Little reminders that she was once here and left some things behind.
I am thankful for the stuff she left. Not the stuff left in the house, or the things she gave my wife before she died. But the things she left in us. I can find pieces of her in my wife. There are traces of her in my kids. She even left a bit of herself in me. Carolyn Hardyman is with our Lord. She has made the journey to her eternal home. But not before leaving a part of herself in many of us who must remain here a little longer. We are better for it. And so, this Thanksgiving, I am thankful for what she left behind.
The fish died, but not from loneliness. He had lived alone, in a crowded vase with a bunch of plant roots. He lived that way for years, and he was happy. His predecessors proved it.
We tried putting him in a community aquarium with plenty of room and some other fish to keep him company. He died after a few months. We tried putting him in a community aquarium with a female of his own kind. He pestered her until she died. Then he died. We tried adding plants. He hid among the plants . . . and died.
You have probably seen this little fish. He’s the one they keep in a small jar at the pet store. The one you feel sorry for, because he is kept separate from all the other fish, in a tiny little jar with hardly any water. No filter. No heater. No room. No friends.
If you see him and feel sorry for him, buy him and take him home. But don’t put him in a big nice aquarium. Continue reading »
Lately I have been thinking about my conscience. You know, that thing inside a person that points the way they should go. It’s like a compass. In fact, some people even use the term “moral compass” to refer to it. Many believe it is the standard by which we can know we are headed in the right direction. After all, a compass always points north, right?
I used to think a compass always pointed north, but I’m here to tell you, they don’t. I know because I had one that pointed south. It spent too much time bouncing around in a backpack and rubbing up against other magnetic gadgets. One day I pulled it out and looked at it. It proudly declared north was now south. No amount of shaking and turning would convince it otherwise.
I think my conscience is the same way. God put it there to point north, but too much time spent rubbing up against the wrong sort of characters can get it confused. Next thing you know, you’re lost and trying to figure out how to get out of the jungle with nothing to guide you. Or worse, you don’t even know how lost you are because you’re still depending on a faulty compass.
Fortunately for me, I finally got my crazy compass straightened out by rubbing it up against a good strong magnet, pointed in the right direction. That worked because I had other reference points to go by and I knew which way the compass ought to point. The moral of the story? Before using your compass, make sure it’s calibrated using a map and a good reference point. I would suggest a bible and the Son.
I spent most of yesterday laying tile on our basement floor. Now my knees hurt, my back aches, and my hands are all dried out. It’s hard work, but once it’s done, the tile will provide a nice durable floor that will last despite the floods. I don’t like what tiling does to me. But I sure like what it does for me. I kinda feel the same way about some of the struggles God allows to come my way.
Heb 12:11-13 Now no chastening seems to be joyful for the present, but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. Therefore strengthen the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be dislocated, but rather be healed. -NKJV