Thinklings

On behalf of God, thanks!

2011-10-26T07:54:00.000-07:00

It seems audacious to title this blog as I have. But essentially that is what I want to do in this brief note. I want to thank you for your faithfulness in giving over this past year knowing that all we give really is for God and His Kingdom. And since God is not writing a blog these days, I thought I would thank you on His behalf.

Our Summit Sunday is coming up on the Sunday just before Thanksgiving. It's that one time of year where we conspicously talk about money because we are working away at paying down our mortgage as quickly as possible. On that Sunday everything we give (except for missions and special needs) goes to pay down the principle. On our website is a link you can click to see who much we have already saved in interest and how much more we can save still.

We think about giving in a lot of ways. For some it’s all in the numbers, objective raw data. For some it’s a matter of discipline or routine. And for some it’s about joy or faithfulness or gladness or blessing.

Over the years I’ve come to think about giving as doing something beautiful for God. When our children are small and can think of no way to express how much we mean to them, they will come to us with a water color painting still dripping wet … or a crayon colored figure with a big smile with their name proudly and crookedly printed below it.

I just got a big envelope from Indonesia from my grandkids (that's them in the pic!)that was packed with their artistic renderings ... each one with a "I love you Papa" or "I love you Mimi" on it. We have already plastered them all over our fridge. Like all kids, they just want us to know that they notice us. That they value us. So they do something beautiful for us. As beautiful as they know how to do.

So when we give to God we are doing something beautiful for Him. It is our water color. It is our crayon masterpiece. It is our way of saying that we notice Him and all that He means to us. And you know what? He is genuinely grateful.

So this note of thanks is my small way of saying that the beautiful thing you have done for God already this year is probably already hanging on His fridge. And what we all do on Summit Sunday will probably make it there too. Like all good fathers ... and mothers, His heart is gladdened by what His kids do for him. So on His behalf, thanks!

...just thinkling

Of all things March...

2011-03-02T07:26:00.000-08:00

And so it is March. March Hare. March Madness. March Break. March of Dimes and March of the Penguins. March is the month that gives us Fat Tuesday on the 8th and Ash Wednesday on the 9th. March gives us St. Patrick’s Day on the 17th and National Chocolate Covered Raisins Day on the 24th. March gives us National Potato Chip Day on the 14th and not to be outdone, National Potato Chip Dip Day on the 23rd. March just seems filled with notable days.

March. Will it come in like a lion or a lamb is not our biggest question about March, I think. The big question is when will it be over? Because it seems to me that March is a month of waiting. Waiting for Winter to be finally and fully done. Waiting for Spring to muscle it’s way out of the ground and out on a limb. Waiting for warmth to take such hold of our days that we forget what real cold feels like. Waiting for yesterday to be folded up like a lawn chair and tomorrow to unfold like the arms of a child reaching up to you.

So it seems that March yearns ... for fresh starts and new beginnings, for the implied promises of the season to be kept. March is a leaning forward kind of month, always straining ahead to see what is coming. And what gets missed in all this? March.

There are 31 days in March and every one of them is gift from God. But if we keep looking beyond them for something yet to come we forget to unwrap all the 31 gifts that are March. Perhaps we should sit back, settle in, pour a cup of coffee and simply be at home with March. Spring will find us when it’s ready. But March is here now for the taking. So take it.

…just thinkling

Thanksgiving in February

2011-02-03T08:13:00.000-08:00

Ah, February. Why is a month so short feel so long? Maybe it’s because February cannot make up its mind. February has a squeak to it because it’s “a hinge month”…Winter still holding on and yet Spring struggling to emerge. The squeaks of February are the sound of a car door opening on a cold morning, the sound of snow underfoot, the sound of the cat who was just let out wanting right back in. All because it’s February.

But two things give me hope in this confused and dreary month. Two things give me cause for thanks. One is Punxsutawney Phil, the celebrated ground hog of Ground Hog day. Apparently this year Phil did not see his shadow on Ground Hog day which apparently means an early spring. (I saw my shadow and my Marilyn says it’s a bigger shadow than it used to be, but that’s a story for another day!)

Yet no matter how cold or wet or snowy it is today, no matter who saw their shadow on Ground Hog day, the blessed truth is, Spring is not far away. God planned it that way. Isn’t it great that the Lord of Creation gave us Spring to look forward to and rejoice in!? I would despair if February was followed by another February all over again! I can wrap a lot of gratitude around that thought.

My second cause for thanks is Valentines Day.
(BTW, did you know that St. Valentine is by tradition, the patron saint of lovers and epileptics, travelers and bee keepers? Bee keepers?! Makes me wonder why honey is not the sweet of the season instead of chocolate, but that too is a story for another day!)

Let’s be certain of one thing, Valentines Day is totally a manufactured event, a reason for Hallmark to sell greeting cards, florists to sell roses and corner drug stores to sell chocolate.

So yes, to be sure, much of the love that is at the center of Valentines Day is sentimental, guilt driven, mostly vacuous and truly commercialized. But only if you let how the culture marks that day shape how you mark that day. Can it be kept in some authentic way we haven’t considered before? Why simply write it off when you can leverage it for something of real value?

St. John of the Cross, 16th Century, a truer saint than Valentine will ever be, wrote that “If you put love where there is none, then love is there.” So if Paul was right in I Corinthians 13 (and he was, btw!) that the greatest of all Christian virtues is love, then putting that love in someone’s life, has greater power than chocolates or flowers or any other sentiment to move hearts.

And it’s not given out of guilt. It’s given out of the will to love. Who in your world needs to be loved? Into whose life could God be prompting you to put love? Because if you would put love where there is none…where it is lacking or missing… then love would be there. Not the hollowed out sentimental kind. But muscular love…the love of God filling the human heart being put where it is needed most.

So am grateful that February offers me a day to consider who needs something of the love God has poured into my life, put into their. Maybe this February would be considerably warmer if we hijacked the sentiments of Valentine’s Day and instead, put real love where there is none. Because then, love would be there.

…just thinkling

A timely word ...

2011-01-18T13:15:00.000-08:00

When God…

When God wants to drill a man
And thrill a man and skill a man,
When God wants to mold a man to play the noblest part.
When He yearns with all is heart
To create so great and bold a man
that all the world might be amazed …
Watch His methods, watch His ways!
How He ruthlessly perfects
those He royally elects!
How he hammers and He Hurts him,
And with might blows converts him
Into trial shapes of clay which only God can understand;
While his tortured heart is crying
and he lifts beseeching hands.
How God bends but never breaks
When man’s good He undertakes;
How he uses those He chooses
And with every purpose fuses him,
By every act induces him,
To try God’s splendor out-
God knows what He’s about!

Anonymous

That Unforgettable Christmas...

2010-12-03T06:20:00.000-08:00

Growing up in the north, there was really only one sport that mattered to us kids: hockey. And if you didn’t get a hockey sweater or a hockey stick for Christmas, you were considered seriously deprived. Well, imagine getting both! Pure glory!!

I was about 5 at the time it happened. My father had received some kind of bonus from his work at the steel mill. There was lots of talk about it in the house. But still, with an older brother and sister and a baby in the house, none of us kids were getting our hopes up.

Christmas Eve came and we got our stockings special delivery as usual. My Aunt Mary did them up for us. She used real socks with the second sock tucked inside. (What every kid hopes for Christmas, right?! A pair of socks!)

No matter… there was always an orange in the toe of the sock, an apple in the heel, lots of hard Christmas candy in between and usually the kind of nuts you had to use a nut cracker to open. And I don’t know how many Christmas mornings I awoke with a candy cane stuck to my pillow.

But that Christmas morning stands out among all Christmas mornings for me…and it was clearly reflected under the tree that year. I had never seen so many gifts. And since hockey sticks were never wrapped, I spotted mine right away and immediately thought how great it would be to get a new hockey sweater, too. I had a hand-me-down one from my older brother Peter, but never a new one. Could this be the year?

Well, a picture speaks a thousand words, doesn’t it? It was the Christmas of my dreams, the one to remember forever. Across so many years and so many Christmas’s it’s funny what stands out. But I think I’d trade all the Christmas’s I have ever known for that great one in 1956 when I got the stick and the sweater.

So from my Marilyn and my household, may this year be your year to remember! May it be filled with lasting memories for you and your household. And I hope you like your hockey stick!

And by the way...I'm the adorable one on the right! ;-)

just thinkling

Leave it to George...

2010-11-09T10:20:00.000-08:00

I have always admired the art of Norman Rockwell. He expressed so well the fabric of life in a America in his time. It's hard not to warm to his images of Thanksgiving.

But long before him, our first President framed it so well, perhaps none of us can add to the wisdom of his thoughts on Thanksgiving. Can I offer it to you as a worthwhile expression of thanks that would be helpful to reflect on as Thanksgiving day draws near?

Giving Thanks for Thanks Giving

“Whereas, it is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits, and humbly to implore His protection and favor; Whereas, both the houses of Congress have, by their joint committee, requested me “to recommend to the people of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness.”

Now therefore, I do recommend next, to be devoted by the people of the states to the service of that great and glorious being, who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be, that we may then all unite in rendering unto Him our sincere and humble thanks for His kind care and protection of the people of this country.”

George Washington, 1779

What struck me as I read this the first time was the clear focus on God and on prayer. I was remined that when we are thankful, we honor the Source of our thanks: the Living God. But we also take note of the vision of good men and women who saw the power of thanksgiving to shape the human heart with humble thanks to God. So as we pray during these days, let us thank God for all He is and all He has provided for us in this land.

...just thinkling

What the Bible Doesn't Say Is Important

2010-07-30T07:48:00.000-07:00

What Matthew 5:3-12 does not say:
Blessed are the overflowing in spirit, the always ‘up’ people, the always bright and smiley crowd who never seem to be down but always overcoming … for theirs and only theirs is the Km of heaven.

Blessed are those who are bubbling over with joy, who have story after story to tell of how great their experiences of God are and how wonderful their life is going and how things could never be better … for they and only they will know comfort.

Blessed are the strident and the important and the powerful people who write all the books and teach all the seminars and travel the Christian speakers circuit sharing their great wisdom and insights and five easy keys to success… for they and only are obviously the ones who will inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for the latest technique or the latest teaching or latch onto the latest trend or have read all the newest books that give them the inside track on becoming spiritual giants or finding personal significance … for they and only they will be filled.

Blessed are the triumphant and the winners who go from victory to victory, who need no help and show no weakness and never let God down … for they and only they will be shown mercy.

Blessed are those who do lots for God and never miss a meeting and have their kids in line and their answers all lined up for any question that may arise, who always make a good impression and project the best of Christian conduct at all times … for they and only they will see God.

Blessed are those who are right all the time and “in the know” and have verse for it and can stand head and shoulders over those who are obviously in error in their Christian understanding of truth or practice … for they and only they will be called the sons of God.

Blessed are those who never seem to wrestle in prayer, who always walk on the sunny side of the faith, who are well liked, who have their choices constantly affirmed by those around them and their deeds praised in the gates … for theirs and only theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.

And blessed are you when people think you’re the best thing since sliced bread, when they accord you status and glory in who you are and what you have accomplished in life, and wonder aloud how the Kingdom of God ever got along without you up ‘til now … because you and only you will be rewarded in heaven like all the other really significant Christians who are dead and gone but were just like you.

Remembering...

2010-05-30T11:37:00.000-07:00

I did a re-write of an old piece of work that is meant to prompt you to simply remember. I used portions of it the Memorial Day Sunday and the smiles it evoked were worth it. When you get to the end, I wonder what you'll be remembering from days gone by that I didn't mention but we're memorable for you.

I want you to simply remember. As we used to tell our kids, remembering is going backwards in your mind. So go back ... back before the Internet or Microsoft, before Ipods or Ipads, before cell phones or blackberries, before Playstation or Nintendo or Xbox, before WiTV and SUV and DVR. Way back...

I'm talking about long, long ago. All the way back to hide and go seek at dusk. To Red light, Green light. To hopscotch and double dutch and the playground sounds of girls rhyming out word while skipping. To jacks and marbles, to kickball and dodge ball. To Giant Step, and May I? and Red Rover and Hula Hoops. To Scooters and Schwinn Bicycles. Are you there yet?

Back to the taste of salty lips from eating too many sunflower seeds. Back to smarties and penny candy, to Jolly Ranchers and Wacky Taffy, to Red Wax Lips and orange popcicles you had to split down the middle with your sister. Back to the Good Humor man. Back to the milk man and the bread man, to the fuller brush man and the Avon lady all coming to your door.

Back to running through the sprinkler, sitting on the curb, jumping down the steps, jumping on the bed. Reading comic books by flashlight. Transistor radios tuned to a world series game being played in the middle of the day. Pillow fights, sleeping in a tent in the yard counting stars, playing in the rain. Running till you were out of breath. Laughing so hard that your stomach hurt. Being tired from simply playing all day. Remember that?

Back before Cheers was only a re-run, before bicycle shorts and bicycle helmets, before seat belts and sun block and hand sanitizers. Way back. Back to watching Saturday Morning cartoons, Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd, Fat Albert and Road Runner, He-Man and Superman,. Rainy Saturday afternoons with the Three Stooges or Abbot and Costello or Art Linkletter.

Then weeknights of the Honeymooners, then Jack Paar then Johnny Carson. Way back to when you actually had to behave and be good so you could get to stay up to watch Leave it to Beaver or My Three Sons … Andy of Mayberry or Happy Days… the Flintstones or the Muppets. How 'bout back to Howard Cosell and the beginning of Monday Night Football.

Catching frogs in a creek or lightening bugs in a jar. Collecting bubble gum cards and actually chewing the gum. Playing with a sling shot or playing with your first Barbie Doll. Owning a red rider bb gun or your first cabbage patch doll. The smell of a ball glove and the relief of not being the last one picked. Climbing trees and big family picnics. Back when it was ok to play Cops and Robbers, Cowboys and Indians. Back when danger was a sharp pointy stick or a mean dog.

Back to when a large square drawn in the dirt was considered a fort with walls and you could not get in. Back when a big cardboard box was a days worth of fun. When a towel tied around your neck gave you the ability to fly. When you pretended to be invisible and began to think it might be working when your parents pretended not to see you. When blankets spread over the dining room table and chairs kept the monsters out.

Back when grandparents were really, really old people. When around the corner seemed far away and going downtown seemed like really going somewhere. Real terror was getting lost and real relief was being found.

Back to when it seemed everybody went to church and nothing much was open on Sundays. When it took five minutes for the TV to warm up, if you had one. When nearly everyone's Mom was at home when the kids got there. When nobody owned a purebred dog. When popcorn popped in a pan on the stove with oil, not in a bag in the microwave. When laundry detergent boxes had free glasses, dishes, or towels hidden inside the box.

Back to when your mom wore nylons that came in two pieces and all phones hung on a wall in the kitchen. When all of the male teachers at school wore neckties and the female teachers had their hair done, everyday. When you got your windshield cleaned, oil checked, and gas pumped, without asking, for free, every time. And, you didn't pay for air for your tires. And, you got trading stamps to boot!

When any parent could discipline any kid, or feed him, or make him to carry groceries into the house, and nobody, not even the kid, thought a thing of it. When it was considered a rare and great privilege to be taken out to dinner at a real restaurant with your parents. And when milk went up two cents a quart and everyone talked about it for weeks.

Back to when they threatened to keep kids back a grade in school if they failed...and then did it. When being sent to the principal's office felt like a death sentence and still that was nothing compared to what was gonna happen when you got home.

Back to sitting on the porch, back to hot homemade bread and butter. Back to an ice cream cone on a warm summer night. Three choices: chocolate or vanilla or strawberry. A million mosquito bites it seemed and sticky faces and fingers. And the dreaded moment when your mom would lick a Kleenex and then wipe your face with it.

Back to when summer seemed endless and you just hated having to come in at night. Back
to memories so rich with life you might wonder where all that life has gone. But boy oh boy, those were some days.

Now…didn't that feel good just to spend time remembering?! They were good experiences then, and they're good memories now … when we remember to think about them. And that’s the problem: we forget to remember.

...just thinkling

The Postponed Life

2010-04-01T11:16:00.000-07:00

This blog is based upon a quote sent to me by a friend. I have taken the quote captive and written what follows.
Most of us are prone to the same fatal flaw. We keep waiting for life to begin … to kick in, in earnest. We are convinced in our own minds (which is the easiest place to be convinced!) that what we are experiencing now is “life backstage” and the real life we’ve always longed for is waiting for us as soon as the curtain parts. It’s like real life is somehow, in some mysterious way, awaiting us just ‘round the next bend in the road. We are waiting, it seems, for some corner to turn, for some moment to come, for some event to happen that will make everything different from what it has always been.

And so we convince ourselves that life will really begin after we get past this test or finish high school or university or when we get married, or after we have a baby, or perhaps have another. Then we are frustrated that the kids aren't old enough for us to be free of them for a few hours and we figure life will begin when they are old enough … it’s then that we’ll really begin to live.

After that we're frustrated that we have teenagers to deal with. We will certainly begin really living when they are out of the house and out of our hair. And so we go on and tell ourselves that our life will begin when our spouse gets his or her act together, or when we get that promotion or get that better job, or when we get a nicer car, or when we get that new house or that new furniture, or when are able to go on that dream vacation, or even when we retire.

Meanwhile, real life passes you by. It’s like the ol’ Bruce Springsteen “Better Days” when he wrote, “I’m just sittin' around waitin' for my life to begin, while it was all just slippin' away.”

So truth be told, there's no better time to begin living than right now. If not now, when? Your life will always be filled with things to wade through, challenges to struggle past, hurdles to climb over. It's best to admit this to yourself now and decide to live, now.

The famous marching band composer, Alfred Souza, once remarked, that "For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin – real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, some time still to be waited out, some debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were actually the content of my life."

So stop waiting until you finish school, until you go back to school, until you lose ten pounds, until you gain ten pounds. Stop waiting until you have kids, until your kids leave the house, until you start work, until you retire.

Stop waiting until you get married, or until you get remarried, or until Friday night, or until Monday morning. Stop waiting until you get a new car or new home, until old your car or your old home is paid off. Stop waiting until spring or summer, until fall or winter, until Christmas or New Years.

Stop waiting until the first or fifteenth, or until your song comes on the radio, or until your show is over, or until you've gotten over him or gotten over her. Don’t even wait until the turn of a day to decide to begin to live.

‘Cause what you are postponing is your life and you can postpone it until you die if you want. But know this: life is the journey, not the destination. And that journey is too magnificent and often too short, to postpone and miss altogether. So choose to live it, beginning now.

...just thinkling.

Rethinking Spring Cleaning

2010-03-23T06:15:00.000-07:00

I have a two car garage that only holds one car. What does that tell you? Right! I’ve got a garage full of junk. I made a promise to myself this winter, that when Spring came, I would ruthlessly clean the garage. I’m going to throw out all the clutter of life I’ve been collecting for no real reason.

Still, every year, when I try to throw out the junk we’ve collected over time, I can’t bring my self to do it. You know the stuff. Souvenirs from vacations. Tourist trap trinkets. Old car parts, old collectibles, old stereo equipment, and plain, old stuff. I’m a tourist in life: I collect stuff along the way that really should never have been picked up in the first place.

So what do I do with all my junk? I re-arrange it. Stack it differently. Hide it behind something. I promise myself, I’m going to be unsentimental this year but every year the clutter of life just seems to grow. The evidence of being a tourist in life is never more in view it seems, than when I clean my garage.
The Psalmist says, “Blessed are those whose strength is in You, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.” (Ps. 84:5)

Ps. 84 calls us to the Biblical tradition of being pilgrims and not tourists. And there is a difference...and it’s a big one. A tourist goes through life collecting the kind of stuff that fills the garage. A pilgrim realizes they are on a journey, and the things they collect along the way are more baggage than blessing. Pilgrims travel light because the destination is more important than the sights along the way.

So here comes Spring. It’s time to keep my promise to myself and clean the garage. And maybe its time to approach it like a pilgrim and not like a tourist. Maybe its time to approach all of life that way.

...just thinkling.

Our Prayer for Haiti

2010-01-15T07:51:00.000-08:00

Our Prayer for Haiti

Kind Father, God and Creator of all things,
we have been stunned once again by an event
which seems so unnatural
and yet is called "natural disaster."

We have no words to answer the "why" which we feel…
No wisdom to explain away
these unexplainable areas of life.

Keep us from attributing this event
to an assumption of Divine judgment or Heavenly reprimand.
Keep our hearts from the hubris or the smugness
that imagines we alone know or understand
what really cannot be understood.

Keep us from spiritual pride
that tempts us to form definitive opinions
and speak assuredly for God when God has not spoken.
We, who are so distant from the scene
of such tragic sorrow,
move us from opinions to true compassion.

Kind Father of this bent and broken world,
Give us hearts filled with kindness and gentleness
to be servants to those in need.
Remind us of your gracious love in the midst of sorrow,
and your ability to work miracles when all hope is faint.

We pray for those who suffer in Haiti even now
and for those who await rescue.
For relatives, for the children,
for mothers and fathers,
sisters and brothers,
grandparents, aunts and cousins.

For the survivors who question
what more they might have done.
And for those who must keep on keeping on,
in spite of it all.

For the leaders,
for those who bring aid
and those who await news…
strengthen and encourage them we pray.

Now unto you, O God,
we take the burdens of this hour
and place them in your divine care.
For all you do and are doing,
seen and unseen,
we give thee thanks,
Eternal God of All Creation,
we wait on you.
Amen

Joy is Serious Business

2009-12-02T07:46:00.000-08:00

I remember hearing Garrison Keillor one lazy Saturday afternoon tell a story as only he can of a time when he was a boy on the family farm. He and a couple of friends had wandered over to where the hog pen and were throwing small stones at the fat old hogs trying to get them to move. It was just something to do if you’re a bored 10 year old boy looking for something to amuse you.

Well his father scolded him real good. He said, “Don’t you ever do that. Those hogs aren’t here for sport.”

About a week later, his father and the hired men slaughtered those hogs and put the meat up for the winter. Garrison couldn’t quite understand it. What’s worse? Throwing pebbles at a hog or slaughtering it? Killing time or killing the hog? It didn’t make any sense.

But later as a grown man, thinking back, he remembered the look on the faces of those men as they slaughtered those hogs. They were serious and silent. It was a very sober business. It was meat that would feed the whole family for the upcoming long, harsh Minnesota winter. There was a lot at stake.

As I reflected upon that story, it struck me that expressing joy at the birth of Jesus at Christmas is serious business. All the commercialization … all the sappy sentimentality … all the artificial substitutes for the heart of Christmas joy is like throwing pebbles at hogs. It’s sport. It’s something to do when you don’t really know the purpose or value of something.

But the birth of Jesus is full of purpose and lasting importance. This is eternal light and everlasting life coming into a world of darkness and death. It’s not meant for sport or to be trivialized. And expressing our joy over it sends a serious message to a world that behaves like bored 10 year old boys looking for something to distract or amuse them. Our joy says this Gift of God is meant to get us through a life that has a lot of long and harsh winters in it.

Joy to the world is serious business. This Christmas, let’s be about our business.

...just thinkling

Fall ... at last!

2009-08-26T11:48:00.000-07:00

You gotta love the Fall! Fall is kind of a “guy” season. Football starts up. Hockey starts up. Baseball playoffs and the World Series. Basketball is coming up quick. What’s not to like about that!?

But there is more to like about the Fall than sports. The return of Fall means a return to order and routine. All the “life as not-usual” is over. Vacations are done. Kids head back to school. Life at work is more focused. The rhythms of life get re-organized. The tune of life marches to a steadier, more orderly beat.

When God created this world, in the opening words of Genesis we read that the before He did, the world was formless and void (Gen. 1:2). The Hebrew words are “tohu” and “bohu”. (I wonder if that is where tofu comes from ‘cause it looks formless and is void of taste!) But while you can have fun rhyming those words, they basically mean this place was a whole lot of random, chaotic, emptiness. Like your kid’s bedroom. No order. No structure. You could never make sense of it.

Kinda like how summer feels to me a times. Not enough order. Not enough structure. No clear routines. No simple rhythms. Life sort of gets out of synch and kids get out of sort as schedules and disciplines break down. Early in the summer, we are all “dying for a break” we say. But by the time Fall rolls around, we are so ready for the order and structure that routine brings.

So could it be that the need for order in life is a quiet witness to our hearts of God’s design for what life in this world was meant to be? He brought order out of chaos and called it life. So maybe that is why we long for Fall. God wired us for it. We were made to live in order. Even your kid’s. Even when their room looks all tohu and bohu.

…just thinkling

On Getting Old

2009-07-10T08:48:00.000-07:00

I am reading a good book by Paul Tournier called "Learn to Grow Old". It's a fascinating read for a guy as young as me. Ahem, ahem!!

Truth is, it's best value is for 40 somethings and the occasional 50 something. He has a lot of valuable stuff to say about preparing for the season of old age than about simply offering a 'how to' about living in that season.

But in it he quotes a psychologist who says in effect, if you don't learn to to live a meaningful life now, you won't be able to organize yourself in old age to do so. Who you are now is what you are becoming. What you will be then is only what you are writ large. Old age will only be more of the same.

Does it have to be that way? So bleak and empty? Not at all. But the time for addressing it is now, not then. Now is the season to reflect on the things that give your life meaning. And if they are not sustainable in old age, it would be good to ask yourself, what meaningful pursuit can I start now that will endure and enrich that season to come?
I'm looking forward to getting old. I'm going to retire and sit around and complain about the government full time. What's your plan?

...just thinkling

Get a haircut!

2009-06-12T09:10:00.000-07:00

Get a haircut!

How many times did I hear that as a teenage kid growing up?! Too many!! But I’ve got a good reason for you to get out and get yours cut.

The place I get my hair cut is owned by a single mom. Her business partner skipped town as it were and left her with a $4,500 problem. It puts her in a really tough spot. And the court said she is out of luck if she thinks she can get it back.

In conversation with her about it, I had to tell her that I can’t do much about that. But then I thought, I should just tell the people I know to get a hair cut. I mean, I head over there regularly. But you who know me well, know I’ve only got so much hair to cut.

So “GET A HAIRCUT, WILL YA!?!” The place is called Haute Couture in Nicholasville (859) 881-0603. Tell ‘em that Pastor Steve sent you and they’ll put extra crème rinse in your hair…or something.

…just thinkling

How many ____'s does it take to change a lightbulb?

2009-05-12T13:11:00.000-07:00

Just when you think you’ve heard the last “change a light bulb joke” a new one surfaces. Like this one:

Q: How many computer technical writers does it take to change a light bulb?
A: 100. One to do it, and 99 to write document number GC7500439-0001, “Multitasking Incandescent Source System Facilitation”, of which 10% of the pages state only, ``This page intentionally left blank,'' and 20% of the definitions are of the form ``A <...> consists of sequences of non-blank characters separated by blanks.''

(How can you tell that my computer is down and I am being held hostage this week by slow I.T. guys and this is my revenge!?)

But actually, the newest light bulb joke is:
Q: How many church board meetings board meetings does it take to get a light bulb changed?
A: "This topic was resumed from last week's discussion, but is incomplete pending resolution of some action additional items related to the heating bill from the Winter of ‘08. It was tabled and will be taken up again at next month’s meeting." :/<

We like to make fun of meetings and committees. And there are times when they really do live up to all the criticism they invite.

But in church life I believe in helping people find their voice in speaking into the life of the church family. All those voices together can make the kind of change possible that reflects what God is saying to us as a church and not just to one person.

Our annual meeting on May 17th will create the chance again for those voices to be heard and folks to be elected who will lead in the positive changes we keep looking for in church life. Empowering change has been the work of the Spirit of God since the birth of the church. Join with the rest of the church family and with Him as He empowers change for us on May 17th.

Q: How many pastors does it take to change a light bulb?
A: ________________________________________
Send us your answer to the church web site link here and we’ll find out on May 17th. The prize for the best answer?! Come and see!

Socrates, Freud and Lent

2009-02-23T11:46:00.000-08:00

Socrates said: Know yourself. Freud said: Be yourself. Jesus said: Give yourself. And at Easter He shows us what that looks like. “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Mt. 20:28)

Knowing yourself is a valuable thing. How can address your need to grow as a person if you don’t know where to begin? Knowing yourself leads to confidence and self assurance.

Being yourself is a valuable thing. How can you find your way in this world if you are always pretending to be who you are not? Being yourself leads to finding your real place in this real world.

But giving yourself … living out of self giving love … is the only way to impact this world with muscular love. Because it’s not self focused but other focused. Its not about knowing myself or being myself. Imagine: its not about my self at all.

As Lent walks us toward Easter, our eyes come off our self and onto the One who gave himself for others. And we learn in new ways what the self giving love that changes the world really looks like.

It’s not that Socrates and Freud are wrong or have nothing meaningful to say. It’s just that they do not say enough. Only self giving love is enough. So think about it: who do you know that needs to be loved more than they need the advice of Socrates or the insight of Freud?

And we thought Christmas was the season of giving.

…just thinkling

Eight more sleeps!

2009-02-03T10:48:00.000-08:00

Eight more sleeps …

Do you remember counting up the sleeps to some important event in your life? Christmas. Birthdays. Vacation. Finally getting out of school!!

Well … in our house we are counting the days down to February 11th , the day that Marilyn and I leave for Florida to do a four day retreat for pastors and their spouses. Did you catch that? It’s in Florida! We have a lot of work to do down there but it’s down there! In Florida!!

The only problem is living in the days that are between now and then: staying focused, doing good work, attending to life, etc. When you have some big thing you are looking forward to … if you are not careful … you can wish away the days in between and literally waste them.

And all of us only get so many days, don’t we? There is an unseen clock of life that keeps ticking even if we ignore it. To waste any days is to waste life. We don’t get those days back to live over.

So the Bible tells us “to number our days” for a reason. God wants us to get the most out of life by wasting the very least of it. And He wants us to make use of it wisely, productively, and redemptively in a world that could use some wisdom, some productivity and some redemption.

So even if you’re not going to Florida next week number your days and redeem the time. And if I can remember, I’ll bring you back a shell and a handful of sunshine! (How many more sleeps is that now!?)

…just thinkling

It is winter. Really winter!

2009-01-13T11:13:00.000-08:00

Man is it cold this week?! Where I come from we have 21 different words for “cold”. Stupid cold, dumb cold, mean cold, awful cold, real cold, etc, etc. But in the Frozen North you come to expect winter to be cold. Up there you have the clothes and coats and hats and gloves required to handle it. In fact, when I lived up there I thought long underwear ought to be tax deductable as a real necessity for survival!

But down here in balmy Kentucky really cold weather just doesn’t seem right. I mean, 5 degrees Fahrenheit is just wrong, don’t you think?!

Yet my friend Sam Strader told me when I came here years ago that Kentucky has all four seasons, including winter. A real winter. A lot shorter than what I was used to, but nevertheless, complete with snow and freezing rain and cold. Real cold. So thanks to his advice I brought my long underwear with me when I moved here. And my winter gloves, my coat and all my warm winter woolies. To be forewarned is to be forearmed.

A lot of what it takes to cope with all that life brings our way is simply to be prepared. Assuming or denying that it’s never going to get cold doesn’t help. Nor does the whining, even though I am very good at it myself. And to be prepared you have to be willing to take advice.

So in life, I think what really helps is listening to the voice of experience: the people who know what things life tends to bring along that we might not be prepared for. It’s a good lesson for all of us to look up the road a bit and identify the folks who can speak into our lives with seasoned wisdom. Even about the season of winter.

Now if only someone would bring me a cup of hot chocolate…

…just thinkling

Christmas Dieting Guidelines

2008-12-23T07:11:00.000-08:00

Ten Essential Steps to Ensure Your Pants Still Fit After Christmas:

1. If you eat something and no one sees you eat it, it has no calories.

2. If you drink a diet soda with a chocolate bar, the calories in the chocolate bar are cancelled out by the diet soda.

3. When you eat with someone else, calories don't count if you do not eat more than they do. This also includes, anything consumed from someone else's plate. It has no calories since the calories rightfully belong to the other person and will cling to his/her plate. (We all know how calories like to cling!)

4. Foods used for medicinal purposes NEVER count, such as hot chocolate, cream of chicken soup, and Sara Lee Cheesecake.

5. Movie related foods do not have additional calories because they are part of the entertainment package and not part of one's personal fuel. Examples: Milk Duds, M and M’s, Gob Stoppers, Tootsie Rolls and Red Licorice.

6. While whole cookies are fattening, cookie pieces contain no calories. The process of breaking the cookie causes calorie leakage making them suitable for guilt free consumption.

7. Things licked off knives and spoons have no calories but only if you are in the process of preparing something for someone else to eat.

8. Foods that have the same color have the same number of calories. Examples: Spinach and pistachio ice cream; mushrooms and mashed potatoes. And since chocolate is a universal color it may be substituted with any other food color.

9. Anything consumed while standing has no calories. This is due to gravitational pull theory combined with the density of caloric mass plus a whole lot of serious wishing it was true.

10. And finally, remember to always feed your friends. If you surround yourself with larger people, you’re sure to look a lot thinner.

This diet has never really worked for me but I sure do enjoy living by it's guidelines. (Has anyone seen my post-Christmas pants with the elastic waste?)

just thinkling

The Elliott Holiday Diet

2008-12-03T11:18:00.000-08:00

The Holiday Diet For Those
Who Are Stressed

If you are stressed out over the holidays,
the following diet is designed to help you cope.

Breakfast:
1/2 grapefruit
1 slice whole wheat toast
8 oz. skim milk

Lunch:
4 oz. lean broiled chicken breast
1 cup steamed spinach
1 cup herb tea
1 Oreo cookie

Mid-Afternoon snack:
The rest of the Oreos in the package,
2 pints Rocky Road ice cream, nuts, cherries and whipped cream
1 jar hot fudge sauce

Dinner:
2 loaves garlic bread
4 cans or 1 large pitcher Coke
1 large sausage, mushroom and cheese pizza
3 Snickers bars

Late Evening News:
Entire frozen Sara Lee cheesecake (eaten directly from freezer)

Dreaming

2008-12-01T13:08:00.000-08:00

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas … Christmas might be more than dreams but its not less than dreams.

You see her at a light: a young, hard looking woman with her haired pulled back in a convenient pony tail, two kids in car seats and the window rolled down part way to let the cigarette smoke drift out. And from her rear view mirror hangs a “dream catcher” … the circle shaped frame crisscrossed with leather cords, feathers dangling off the bottom rung. It doesn't matter that you don’t know her: because you’ve met her: an anonymous life in a world of need. Single and abandoned with toddlers, she could stand to catch a dream.

And you know him too. He swings out the door of his F150 pick up, his pants and his cowboy buckle not quite enough to restrain the belly that folds over his belt. He’s got a dream catcher in his truck too. He’s been trying to catch a dream forever it seems. And time keeps sliding by.

The Christmas story is littered with dreams. Joseph. The Wise Men. Elizabeth. Dreams that did not have to be caught. Dreams that were simply given by God. Dreams that changed how we came to understand God and what He is up to in this world.

Still, in this world, we see lot’s of folks hoping to catch a dream. Maybe any kind of dream would do. Anything other than what they experience every day...what they are living with every day. But most seem to helplessly, hopelessly chase dreams rather than catch them. Most end up with dream catchers dangling from a rear view mirror, hoping for the best. And all they catch is a dream catcher.

So maybe that’s part of the reason God simply gives dreams. He uses dreams to communicate in the original Christmas story because He is a dream giver not simply Someone who throws a dream out there to be caught at random in a dream catcher. Maybe He knows more about the people are hoping to catch a dream than they can even guess. Mabye they need to know He loves them and has a dream for their life that they cannot imagine possible.

And maybe our task is simply to give such people the dream God would have them catch: someone who loves them no matter how broken they seem ... how disappointed they are ... how they are hoping against hope that life can be different for them. Maybe.

…just thinkling

God was only fooling ...

2008-11-18T07:22:00.000-08:00

November. I think when God made November he was only fooling. Keats got it right when he wrote:

No warmth, no cheerfulness,
no healthful ease;
No comfortable feel in any member.
No shade, no shine,
no butterflies, no bees;
No fruit, no flowers,
November.
(Keats)

Cold. Cloudy. Mostly miserable. Fall is gone and Christmas is still far away. If it wasn't for Thanksgiving, my son's birthday, my daughter's birthday, the post-Thanksgiving shopping bonanza, the start of college basketball, the exciting college football games that determine bowl appearances, the hockey season in full swing, no more grass to cut, the wonderfull smell of a fire in the fireplace, not to mention the hunting season ... Wait a minute. Maybe November ain't so bad after all. Maybe God knew what He was doing when He put it on the calendar.

Way to totally go, God!! And can You forget the "only fooling" part?

... just thinkling

So ... what did change in this election?

2008-11-04T12:25:00.000-08:00

So … what did change in this election?

As a Canadian, I am old enough to remember the war in Vietnam and the cost to America in lives, dollars and world reputation. When the US pulled out of Vietnam in June of 1973, world opinion of the America could not have been at a lower point. International editorials were scathing and unsparing in their criticism. Racial strife boiled over in major cities like Detroit and Los Angeles. On top of that, the US dollar had fallen 41% in the previous two years against European currencies. It was a bleak time in America.

On June 5th of 1973, a well know Canadian radio commentator in Canada who worked for a station CFRB in Toronto, made a remarkable public broadcast in praise of America’s role in the world. His name was Gordon Sinclair. And those of us who followed his career remember him mostly as a grumpy old man: something bad to say about everything, pretty much. If I close my eyes I can still see that scowling, bulldog face and his trademark loud bow tie.

So no one could have been more surprised to hear than us what he had to say that day. No one more surprised, unless of course, you were an American. He wrote the piece that morning in about half an hour. He gave it live over radio 15 minutes later, unedited. Although some of the references are dated and the world’s landscape has changed since 1973, that address is worth remembering in our day when so much change is afoot regardless of who takes office. So what follows below is the full transcript, under it’s original title, given as I remember it, in Sinclair’s signature raspy voice and clipped, cryptic delivery.

The Americans
“The United States dollar took another pounding on German, French and British exchanges this morning, hitting the lowest point ever known in West Germany. It has declined there by 41% since 1971 and this Canadian thinks it is time to speak up for the Americans as the most generous and possibly the least-appreciated people in all the earth.

As long as sixty years ago, when I first started to read newspapers, I read of floods on the Yellow River and the Yangtse. Who rushed in with men and money to help? The Americans did.

They have helped control floods on the Nile, the Amazon, the Ganges and the Niger. Today, the rich bottom land of the Mississippi is under water and no foreign land has sent a dollar to help. Germany, Japan and, to a lesser extent, Britain and Italy, were lifted out of the debris of war by the Americans who poured in billions of dollars and forgave other billions in debts. None of those countries is today paying even the interest on its remaining debts to the United States.

When the French franc was in danger of collapsing in 1956, it was the Americans who propped it up and their reward was to be insulted and swindled on the streets of Paris. I was there. I saw it.

When distant cities are hit by earthquakes, it is the United States that hurries into help... Managua Nicaragua is one of the most recent examples. So far this spring, 59 American communities have been flattened by tornadoes. Nobody has helped.

The Marshall Plan ... the Truman Policy ... all pumped billions upon billions of dollars into discouraged countries. Now, newspapers in those countries are writing about the decadent war-mongering Americans.

I'd like to see one of those countries that is gloating over the erosion of the United States dollar build its own airplanes. Come on... let's hear it! Does any other country in the world have a plane to equal the Boeing Jumbo Jet, the Lockheed Tristar or the Douglas 107? If so, why don't they fly them? Why do all international lines except Russia fly American planes? Why does no other land on earth even consider putting a man or women on the moon?

You talk about Japanese technocracy and you get radios. You talk about German technocracy and you get automobiles. You talk about American technocracy and you find men on the moon, not once, but several times ... and safely home again.

You talk about scandals and the Americans put theirs right in the store window for everyone to look at. Even the draft dodgers are not pursued and hounded. They are here on our streets, most of them ... unless they are breaking Canadian laws ... are getting American dollars from Ma and Pa at home to spend here.

When the Americans get out of this bind ... as they will... who could blame them if they said 'the h**l with the rest of the world'. Let someone else buy the Israel bonds. Let someone else build or repair foreign dams or design foreign buildings that won't shake apart in earthquakes.

When the railways of France, Germany and India were breaking down through age, it was the Americans who rebuilt them. When the Pennsylvania Railroad and the New York Central went broke, nobody loaned them an old caboose. Both are still broke. I can name to you 5,000 times when the Americans raced to the help of other people in trouble.

Can you name me even one time when someone else raced to the Americans in trouble? I don't think there was outside help even during the San Francisco earthquake.
Our neighbors have faced it alone and I am one Canadian who is d****d tired of hearing them kicked around. They will come out of this thing with their flag high.

And when they do, they are entitled to thumb their nose at the lands that are gloating over their present troubles. I hope Canada is not one of these. But there are many smug, self-righteous Canadians.

And finally, the American Red Cross was told at its 48th Annual meeting in New Orleans this morning that it was broke. This year's disasters ... with the year less than half-over… has taken it all and nobody...but nobody... has helped.
June 05, 1973

This address was repeated on radio stations across America as well as in thousands of public venues, including the US Senate. As recently as last year I heard fragments of it pop up in a political speech. But of lesser known significance, Sinclair waived all royalty rights to published and recorded versions of the address and gave all the proceeds to the US Red Cross, a number that totaled in the millions. Gordon Sinclair died on May 17th, 1984. All of Canada was lessened by his loss.

By the time you are likely to have read this, the election will be over. And maybe you are pleased with the outcome or worried. But I think the future for us is a good one. Because although 25 years have passed, the remarkable spirit reflected in Sinclair’s address is still very much at the heart of American life. And that is one very good reason no matter how this election turned out, I think we should all be very proud that it is. As a Canadian, I know I am. And may God bless the United States of America.

… just thinkling

Look up! Look w-a-a-a-a-a-y-y-y-y-y up!

2008-10-28T11:04:00.000-07:00

We have a cross on our building. “Ya –totally-hoo!!” 25 years or so after constructing buildings on our site, we finally have a cross on our building. I always wondered why we didn’t have one on our church, but at least now we can say we do. A cross means that there is more to this building than a building. There is something inside that matters more than brick and mortar.

Now … if you haven’t noticed it, don’t be alarmed. Because it’s not very big. But if you look, you’ll find it on top of the new entry way into our facility. It’s sort of chrome looking and against the skyline it can be a little hard to spot. It’s about 5 feet tall. I was kind of hoping for a 50 foot one. But at least it’s there in all it’s 5 foot glory and that’s what matters.

About 5 years ago, I started wearing a cross. I usually wear it outside my

shirt so it can be seen. And when I began to do that I noticed other people who were wearing them. It’s kinda like when you buy a car and you suddenly start noticing cars just like yours for the first time. And I don’t know how many times a server in a restaurant or someone in an airport will comment on my cross. It gets noticed. And it’s not even 5 feet tall.

And I’ve found this: in the many places I have travelled I have found a warm kind of comfort every time I see a cross around someone else’s neck. Even in places where I don’t know the language, I can gesture to the person about the cross around their neck and point to mine, and inevitably they smile. There’s a bond in the cross that is transnational and transcultural. I find that it bridges a lot of ground between total strangers.

So … while you might not notice “the not-so-big” cross on our new building, people seem always to notice “the even- smaller” cross around a neck. A cross means that there is more to this person than meets the eye. There is something inside that matters more than brick and mortar. Maybe we should all wear a cross.

...just thinkling

Good news and bad news ...

2008-10-02T17:16:00.000-07:00

I went to my doctor last week for something minor. But he fooled me and gave me a physical. Not to name names but I will say that Dr. Charles "Chuck" Johnson of Commonwealth Physicians sure is a sneaky guy.

Anyway, he says I'm healthy. Real healthy. In fact, when I got all my results back and saw them in print, I was so delighted I went out and had a Big Mac. And fries. Supersized. And then I had a double fudge sundae. I mean, you gotta celebrate good health, right?!

Being healthy means the odds are good I'm gonna be around for a while. The good news? My Marilyn is happy. The bad news? My kids have to wait a while before they buy the beach house with the money from the will. Did I say "beach house?" I meant "beach ball." I mean, if I'm going to live longer I've got more time to spend their inheritance.

Which brings me to my point: CONGRESS!!! WALL STREET!!! DON'T MESS WITH MY FUTURE!!!!! Or I'll come over there and ... and ... and whine. Real loud.

In the meantime, I'm cutting back on salt. Just in case they get it right.

... just thinkling

Who are ya' votin' for?

2008-09-23T12:01:00.000-07:00

Here in America, we vote for all kinds of things: presidents, state representatives, senators, judges, mayors, council men (or council persons), sheriffs and deputies (Andy of Mayberry and Barney Fife), jailer, county clerk, state vegetable inspector, the home school homework police, water fountain patrol coordinator … okay, I made the last few up. But with ballot initiatives like endangered species status for possums, it can take 10 minutes just to get through the ballot.

So this year I’m voting for Donny Welch, City Commissioner of Nicholasville. No, actually, I’m not. Why? Because I can’t vote. I am only a Resident Alien. Which means I can pay taxes, hand out Donny Welch flyers door to door, tell my neighbors about what a good guy Donny Welch is … but I can’t vote.

So, for all you bona fide, real Americans: get out and vote!! Earn the right to complain about the government that gets elected. Vote for somebody. Vote for anybody. Vote twice to cover for me not being able to vote. Line up, register, and put your x beside whoever you like. Just do it. Vote!

By the way … can anyone tell me who in the world Donny Welch is?

… just thinkling.

You too can be a saint!

2008-09-17T17:21:00.000-07:00

Just think of it: St Bob. St Chuck. St Lucy of Lexington. Or my favorite: St. Stephen the Remarkable, Pious and Humble. I thought of this when I found this website, which is now listed among the bookmarked sites on my “Favorites” list. It’s called the Saints calendar and it lists the daily saints for the Catholic Church. I find it curious, interesting and sometimes amusing all at the same time.

Like today. Today is September 18 and the saint for today is Saint Joseph of Cupertino. The interesting thing about him is that he is the patron saint of astronauts. What makes that also amusing is that he died in 1673, just a century or two or three before manned space flight.

Now we know from Scripture that every believer in Jesus Christ is called a saint. (Romans 1:7 and count 'em, 68 other places in the Bible.) No one person has special spiritual status as a saint above other believers. We are all equal before God.

But I think the Catholic calendar of saints has this real value: they remember people. People who made a difference. People who made great sacrifices for God, many of whom were martyred. People whose lives are really worth remembering.

In the present 21st church, we tend to be preoccupied with the present tense: what’s current, what’s trendy, what’s the latest worship music or what’s the hottest media innovation, what’s the new best seller among Christian books, etc, etc.

And we tend to forget the great men and women of faith in our own tradition who made it possible for us to live for Jesus in this present tense. I wouldn’t want to make them saints. But it would be helpful to all of our faith journeys if we didn’t forget them … if we remembered the great things they did for God and let them inspire us. From the John Wesleys and Jonathon Edwards. From the Savonarolas to the Martin Luthers. And from our old Sunday School teachers and former pastors and courageous missionaries … great saints all. We need to remember them.

What’s the old saying? “The road to tomorrow runs through yesterday.” And if we were better students of yesterday, we’d end up being stronger believers in the present. And braver prophets of the future. Remember that. And remember them.

…just thinkling

34 years and counting ... or napping

2008-09-16T14:28:00.000-07:00

We just had our 34th wedding anniversary this past Sunday. We celebrated by taking a nap.

Some folks wine and dine. Some folks take a cruise. Some folks do dinner and a movie. Some sit by the ocean and watch the tide.

But not us. We took a nap. And then we took a short walk around the block, had a heart healthy snack, decided not to go to a movie, had another nap, then read for a while, then watched a British murder mystery, and then we went to bed. And fell into a serious, extended nap called sleep.

This being married so long is sure exhausting. As soon as I finish this I think I'll have a nap.

"You're getting sleepy ... you're getting sleepy ..."

...just thinkling

Where were you?

2008-09-11T06:40:00.000-07:00

Where were you when the Towers fell? I was at my computer in my study at work when Sue Cook walked in and told me that a plane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers. A few weeks earlier, a baseball player who was an amateur pilot, had crashed his plane on a recreational solo flight. I thought something similar had happened in New York. I was wrong, of course.

Where were you when the Towers fell? This morning, as I write this, I am at my computer in my study and it's September 11th all over again. Deja vu. I almost expect Sue to come in and tell me all over again what just happened. Instead, my son Jordan just walked in and told me about his job prospects. I guess life, in all of its relentless course, marches on. People marry. Kids grow up. Someone moves away. Someone new takes the desk beside yours at work. The economy rises and falls and our politics gets nasty to the point of embarassment. So is that it?

Where were you when the Towers fell? If you can go to that place and remember. If you cannot go there physically, let your imagination take you there. Because for some, life did not keep marching on. And there are families that were forever shattered. And lovers and friends who lost someone dear will wake up today and half expect the one they lost to come walking through the door.

Where were you when the Towers fell? Remember. Remember that you are free and alive. Remember that others are forever wounded and broken by what happened on that day. And don't just remember. Pray. And maybe pray most of all that we always will remember.

...just thinkling

God is not a father.

2008-09-10T08:24:00.000-07:00

It's true. God is not a father. No where in the Bible does it say that He's a father.

Worried? You shouldn't be.

Because the Bible calls Him the Father ... as in THE Father. God is the original Father from whom all other fathers find some measure of rootedness in their identity as fathers. But God THE Father is not a father like your dad or mine. He is THE Father. Every other father there ever was only reflects who He is in very limited and inaccurate ways. And a lot of those fathers do it very poorly. Some of them abusively and destructively. And let's face it: some of them are just buffoons, which is only a step or two up in the food chain from baboons.

Which of course makes fathers an easy target for ridicule. Television and movies have had a field day making fun of fathers for generations. From Ralph Kramden to Fred Flintstone to Homer Simpson to ... well, you get the point. And subtley, its not hard to begin to think that THE Father is just like any other father, only beginning with a capital "F".

But the mix-up of fathers and THE Father doesn't stop there, does it? Others ascribe a 'maleness' to God THE Father that is really nothing more than the crippled and distorted 'maleness' of the fathers who populate our personal world. And as a result, there are folks who completely ridicule the idea of God as a father. Because if God is only like the fathers they see in life, then He's not much of a God.

Still, on the other hand, some of the fathers in this world are just plain wonderful. Like me for instance! ;-)!! I'm certain that my kids who read this blog think I am the world's greatest dad. Why, they've even given me a T-shirt that says I am! (That was meant to be sincere, right?!)

But some of the fathers of this world really are just awful. Real duds. And if God THE father was only a bigger version of one of those fathers, I don't blame some folks for what they conclude about the Fatherhood of God.

Well, the good new is that's not who THE Father is. He's not even like me ... as wonderful a father as I imagine myself to be. He is THE Father: perfectly loving and just and kind and good and merciful and fair and on and on it goes...perfection upon perfection.

(Ya know, if you're a permanent kid like me, given that THE Father is completely perfect in every way and never forgets anything, I'm kinda wondering: "where's my allowance?" But I digress.)

So ... given that God is THE Father and He really is perfect, that means I don't have to worry about the fatherhood issue and God after all. Because THE Father really is THE Father not simply a father.

And maybe this world would think a lot more of Him if we thought a lot more like Him.

...just thinkling

But can you sing?

2008-09-05T10:11:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, if you were looking for employment, at the very top of your resume would be your experience in the job you were applying for. If you want a job as a writer, can you write? If you want a job as a plumber, can you plumb!?

But apparently, that's changing.

Steve Stark, writer and political commentator, wrote this today...

"...given the popularity of reality shows, it is no surprise that, in 2008, the nation is being treated to an American Idol election. During the past decade, if there's one type of programming that's been pushed relentlessly, it's reality television. The whole concept of reality TV is the same as American Idol: anyone can be famous, so much so that we can eliminate the professionals and make "the people" the stars.

It's a very democratic idea and very traditional American ideal. But it's never before had the political currency it has now.The search for undiscovered electoral talent has led the Democratic Party to nominate Barack Obama, its least-experienced candidate in memory. And this past week, the Republicans trumped that exponentially by elevating Sarah Palin from the relative depths of political obscurity to the nation's center stage."

Ouch. And ouch again. We're looking to hire someone for the most powerful job in the freeworld and job experience has become a handicap, not an asset. You can argue about which person is more experienced. But in the end, maybe that doesn't matter much. We don't want "the same old Washington elites" or "the same old Washington politics" ... phrases lifted from both campaigns. On both party's ticket, new and fresh has become more appealing than seasoned and experienced. The professionals with the resumes are giving way to the neophytes with the charm and charisma.

Funny ... if I needed a plumber, I wouldn't hire an electrician. So if I needed a politician, I think I'd hire one. But can they sing?

...just thinkling

I don't like spiders and change ... and change?!

2008-09-02T13:14:00.000-07:00

It's a hot summer day a few weeks ago and my granddaughters are playing with Legos and their imaginations in the cool shade of our screened in porch. And then the animated yelling starts.

"Meg! Move! Get out of the way! Move! Megan!"

"Kyra! Don't tell me ... yikes!! A daddy long legs!!" (I think she hollered daddy long legs because "phalangium opilio" was too long a word to shout in a crisis.)

Well, it didn't take long for two little girls to put some distance between them and the spider. They came spilling into the house, excited terror in their eyes, calling for me to rescue them from what was certain "little girl death." I was reluctant to forsake my wonderfully horizontal position on the couch, so I told them where they could find the fly swatter, which in our house is called the bug whapper.

After a few a furtive whispers and intense strategic planning, one or two whaps later the spider was seriously dead. I know this because they gathered up its pitiful remains in a Kleenex and came and laid their trophy on my chest to prove their collective triumph over fear and death. I rewarded them with a mumbled smile and sent them back outside, still armed with the bug whapper in case another terrifying spider showed up.

A few minutes later, all I can hear from the porch is laughing and shouting and our furniture being pushed around. I pull myself up to a sitting position, a major effort on my part, and there are my two girls chasing a fly with the bug whapper and missing wildly and amusingly. After about 10 minutes of this the fly is unharmed and doing very well. And the girls are panting between giggles and regaling each other with their comic exploits.

Now, what makes the difference between a quick and decisive victory over a daddy long legs and a prolonged and indecisive non-victory over a fly? It's all about direction and the road that's travelled. A daddy long legs makes a pretty easy target for a little girl with a bug whapper: they travel on the most readily available surface and run in pretty much a straight line. Flies however, take off and scribble their way through the air, buzzing in a 100 unpredictable patterns ... landing anywhere they like and taking off in a whole new direction at will. So when it comes to the skill of escaping a bug whapper, daddy long legs end up at a lot of funerals and flies end up nibbling on the funeral lunch.

All of this is an interesting picture of the changes that are happening in the field of ... change! It used to be that change was predictable. It was built from one idea to the next, each one building on the last, each technology based on the previous technology, each reasoned thought connected to the previous one. It was like a daddy long legs: moving in a pretty much a straight line on the most readily available surface (i.e.) the idea that preceeded it.

But that's changing. Allan Hirsch in his book "The Forgotten Past" talks about moving into a new era of "discontinuous change". Change won't happen in systematic, 'trace-able' patterns and logical sequences anymore. Change will come in a manner that is discontinuous with what preceded it. It won't look like a daddy long legs running in a straight line across the back porch. It will look more like a fly buzzing randomly along an unmarked path through the air ... as unpredictable as the weather and as hard to figure out as a teen age girl's cell phone bill.

If you're like me and older than 45, we come into such times as these already "change weary." We've seen more change in our time than every previous generation combined. So when someone talks about discontinuous change, our response might likely be: stick to what you know, hold on to how you've always done it, and hope not to get washed away in this new tide of change. But will that really help?

And if you are younger than 45, the rapid pace of change you've always lived with is now about to go into hyperdrive and you won't really have a clue who's steering the future. If you feel like you're on a roller coaster without tracks it's because you are. And you might very well just stop thinking that you know where in the world life is going and just ride the wave. But will that really help?

What will really help? How are we supposed to live in a world of unpredictable, complex, 'doesn't-make-a-whole-lot-of-sense' discontinous change? Well, how's this for an answer? I have no idea. But it's worth thinking about, don't you think? After all, it is the future we're going to live in ... not the past.

... just thinkling.

When was the last time ...

2008-08-08T12:34:00.000-07:00

When was the last time ...

... you laid on your back in the grass and watched the clouds go past while you looked for the faces and shapes they made?

... you had a real picnic with a blanket and sandwiches and potato salad and ants and no grill or lawn chairs or tailgate?

... you kissed a baby and felt their lips disappear beneath the slightest pressure of yours?

... you told a child "yes" instead of "no" or "maybe" or "we'll see"?

... you had time?

All these and more are the kind of questions that invite an inner conversation about what it is we value. Really value. If these don't spark that conversation, you might want to ask "what would?" Because its a conversation we need to keep coming back to before the lights go out and the time for picnics is gone forever.

... just thinkling

The Not-So-Secret Life of Bees

2008-08-06T12:36:00.000-07:00

The best little girls I know are here in ol' Kentucky. My grand daughters, 10 and 8, are visiting from North Carolina for a month while their momma Rachel heads down the homestretch to having twins. They are a delightful handful which is great for us and freeing for Rachel who has a delightful wombful.

These two girls are wonderfully curious over just about anything ... but especially nature. So you can imagine how their imaginations lit up when my good friend Phil invited them to come by and spend a morning exploring the world of bees.

Now, if bees have secrets, Phil knows them all! He can tell you what they like to eat, where they hang out on weekends, what kind of cars they drive and what kind of movies they like. The girls learned more about bees than any grad student in the Ag school at UK.

And here is the secret they remember best: when it comes to bees, women do all the work! The queen lays all the eggs in a hive of about 40,000 bees. And the worker bees...all girls...feed all those babies! And not just that, they also collect all the ingredients for making honey, make the honey, seal it off to protect it, guard the hive, put the honey in jars with labels to sell at Walmart ... okay, I made that last part up. But the girls do all the heavy lifting when it comes to making honey.

Meanwhile, the guy bees, the drones, they sit around and drink coffee, read the morning paper, eat donuts and complain about the government full time. What a great life it must bee to bee a drone bee.

However, the girls get the last laugh. When the weather turns cold and the food runs low, to make ends meet the girl bees push the guys out of the hive where they die a miserable death. Which makes me wonder: what are these two grand daughters of mine going to do when their husbands reach for a donut on a cold day in winter?

... just thinkling.