Today is September 12, 2006. Five years post 9/11 but that is not what this is really about. September 12, 2006 is 8 weeks from what we’ve come to know as mid-term elections.
Election time each year always brings me to an acute awareness of my growing discomfort here. Not here in America. I do believe that we live in the greatest country in the world. What I do not believe, and my confession of this fact betrays my Southern upbringing, is that we are God’s favorite or His chosen people. The reality of the opulence of our country reminds my of the truth that to whom much is given much is required. And the stark veracity is that we’ve been given much in the way of freedom and resource and we’ve not made good use. But that is for another blog. Let’s get back to my discomfort.
The discomfort I feel “here” is just that. Here. In this world. In this frail, fragile, fallible body. Just HERE. Here, where people fly planes into buildings. Here where people still get cancer and still in the light of great faith and love for and from God still die. Here, where people just have to deal with all the stuff that muddles our days. Loneliness, poverty, wealth, business, having too little time or too much, remembering and forgetting and wishing we could just do more of the other. Sticky little hands that just want to touch your face. Small, innocent faces that greet you in the morning, and the beautiful face that tells you goodnight. The thrill of seeing people move from death to life and the heartache of watching people walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Walking the tightrope between where you are and where you wish you could be. The urge and ache to be part of something huge and world changing woven into the tension of the minutia and mundane of the everyday. Just life as we remember it. The good, the bad, and the rest…just life. The highs and lows, the pitfalls and props of people who are created for eternity who for a time are bound to a fallen world and fallen bodies that will one day be built for glory.
That is why this time of the year brings this sensitivity to the fact that we should be somewhat discontent here. This isn’t home. Each time I go into the voting booth I am reminded that I am voting as a resident alien. Not politically, but spiritually. This world is not my home. I love my wife and children and the life that God has given me here, but there is a nagging part of my heart that will always be discontent here, because this is not home. This is indeed the land of my sojourn. It is the here and now, even though it is not the now and forever. So while I am wrapped in this flesh and subject to all the gripes and grace that comes with it, I’ll walk in the joy that comes in being a bit homesick, knowing that when this tent collapses and I jump off the ledge that is this world into eternity there is a loving God who will be there to catch me as faithful Father, just as I catch my three when they jump to me. Only He’s a much better catcher than I.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
My New Little Friend
I was sitting at my office annex (commonly referred to as Starbucks) this morning, diligently working on my schedule and planning. With laptop open and i-pod ear-buds proclaiming that I was fully engrained in “do not disturb” mode, I hardly noticed that they were there. I hardly noticed until their presence was unavoidable.
They were two young ladies, twenty-somethings, who according to their t-shirts work at a local fast food chain. Accompanying them this morning was a little boy who I learned was almost two. I was aware of his presence because he proceeded to join me at my workstation (a.k.a. “table). He could not have cared less that I was fully engrained in “do not disturb” mode. He was in the usual mode for a two-year-old boy, which amounts to “there is something at that table that looks like I could break so I must go near it and see”. As a former two-year-old boy and as the father of three of these wonderfully created creatures myself, I have a great appreciation for the two-year-old boy and the world of lessons one can learn from them.
…this one was unexpected.
The usual suspects at the office annex are people like me. We gather there as the closest of strangers and share in the pursuit of laptops and coffee. We work intently and tenaciously to complete the things that comprise our lists for the day. These are the things that consume our time and energy and resource to fulfill our requirements for success in a given 24-hour period.
My interruption’s agenda was different. In the midst of my business, his agenda was “I am here and I’ll require your attention for the next few moments”. I do admit that much of my initial attention was given because of what appeared to be of the remnants an oatmeal-raisin cookie that was dangerously close to my day-timer and laptop. This reality was fleeting. My attention soon moved from my obsessive-compulsive need to remain in the realm of the “non-sticky” to the reality that there was this little person that simply wanted to engage in conversation and relationship. The fact that I couldn’t understand what he was saying mattered only to me. He talked and pointed and in his mind made perfect sense. It wasn’t his fault that I only speak the dialect of two-year old that originates in my own home.
But as quickly as he came he was gone. Mom had to get to work, he had an important 10 o’clock with Clay at day-care. I had to get back to my planning. The moment had run its course.
The lesson is simple. Take a moment to listen to the wisdom of a cookie covered two year old. He may teach you more that you think you need to know about reality. You really do have the time. The world and your agenda can wait a moment. You’re not that important. Trust me… and my new little friend.
They were two young ladies, twenty-somethings, who according to their t-shirts work at a local fast food chain. Accompanying them this morning was a little boy who I learned was almost two. I was aware of his presence because he proceeded to join me at my workstation (a.k.a. “table). He could not have cared less that I was fully engrained in “do not disturb” mode. He was in the usual mode for a two-year-old boy, which amounts to “there is something at that table that looks like I could break so I must go near it and see”. As a former two-year-old boy and as the father of three of these wonderfully created creatures myself, I have a great appreciation for the two-year-old boy and the world of lessons one can learn from them.
…this one was unexpected.
The usual suspects at the office annex are people like me. We gather there as the closest of strangers and share in the pursuit of laptops and coffee. We work intently and tenaciously to complete the things that comprise our lists for the day. These are the things that consume our time and energy and resource to fulfill our requirements for success in a given 24-hour period.
My interruption’s agenda was different. In the midst of my business, his agenda was “I am here and I’ll require your attention for the next few moments”. I do admit that much of my initial attention was given because of what appeared to be of the remnants an oatmeal-raisin cookie that was dangerously close to my day-timer and laptop. This reality was fleeting. My attention soon moved from my obsessive-compulsive need to remain in the realm of the “non-sticky” to the reality that there was this little person that simply wanted to engage in conversation and relationship. The fact that I couldn’t understand what he was saying mattered only to me. He talked and pointed and in his mind made perfect sense. It wasn’t his fault that I only speak the dialect of two-year old that originates in my own home.
But as quickly as he came he was gone. Mom had to get to work, he had an important 10 o’clock with Clay at day-care. I had to get back to my planning. The moment had run its course.
The lesson is simple. Take a moment to listen to the wisdom of a cookie covered two year old. He may teach you more that you think you need to know about reality. You really do have the time. The world and your agenda can wait a moment. You’re not that important. Trust me… and my new little friend.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Wow,...amazed by the level of my own envy...
I just watched a vid posted on Christine Dente's FB profile of her and Scott (her husband - together Out of the Grey for those who don't know) playing and singing an acoustic version of one of their songs. Just the two of them infront of a computer (certainly a mac) with her incredible voice and Scott doing his thing on guitar. - I say I can play guitar until I see someone like that do what they do. I own a guitar upon which I can play chords and some notes; but what he does is PLAY guitar. - I would love to be able to do what he does; but it isn't the case.
I love to see people do exactly what they were made by God to do. Clearly Scott is meant to play and Christine sing; God's plan for me is different. While I love to play and sing, I love more to teach. I'm better at it. I feel more comfortable in that area; but I still find myself watching and listening to people like Out of the Grey (of whom I've been a fan for years) and being terribly envious of their ability.
Maybe one day I'll be content to be who God has made me and enjoy and celebrate my brothers and sisters and their gifts and talents without envy. Maybe one day I'll get to the place where I can quote another artist who I envy, Wes King, and "accept who you are but keep striving to become that which you've been declared."
I love to see people do exactly what they were made by God to do. Clearly Scott is meant to play and Christine sing; God's plan for me is different. While I love to play and sing, I love more to teach. I'm better at it. I feel more comfortable in that area; but I still find myself watching and listening to people like Out of the Grey (of whom I've been a fan for years) and being terribly envious of their ability.
Maybe one day I'll be content to be who God has made me and enjoy and celebrate my brothers and sisters and their gifts and talents without envy. Maybe one day I'll get to the place where I can quote another artist who I envy, Wes King, and "accept who you are but keep striving to become that which you've been declared."
No more Christian Culture...
I just finished reading one of my favorite blogs
(www.stuffchristianslike.net by Jon Acuff)and in it his guest blogger used the phrase "Christian culture" in a way that did not describe me or most of the Christians that I know and regularly associate with (not that I intentionally disassocaite from other Christ followers, but just not everyone of us travel in the same circles, right?)
But as I read I just realized that I don't think we can use the term "Christian cuture" accurately anymore. Several years ago we were the "Christian Sub-culture", existing in the underlayers of actual culture, as if in a galaxy far, far away. Realizing that we'd become quite a voting block we made the switch and demanded to be recognized as ACTUAL culture, not culture's little brother. As the switch was made we appeared to be content to be lumped together in one box labled Christian Culture.
BUT I SAY NO MORE!! - Well, maybe with less emphasis. I've just always had some personal issue with our culture's tendency to assume certain things are true about someone because of their particular label. I do know several Democrats who are pro-life, want small government, and are gun owners, and really really do love Jesus. (I know that I paint with a large brush there but there is indeed an assumption of stance determined by political party). Just because I am a Christ follower doesn't mean that I fit someone's personal expectation based on their previous experience with other followers of Jesus.
So then, what do we do? This could be quite a cultural pickle. - I guess we just have to follow the lead of Jesus who really appeared to be about people. You know, how He would come into town and actually talk to them. Eat with them. Engage them personally. I love that about our Saviour. He is relational. It appeared that He really loved, and liked, people.
I love to sit with a coffee (preferably venti Sumatra, black and if possible the first cup from the pot; or a french press of Kitamu or Sidamo - See, not all coffee drinkers are the same), and hear someone's story. To hear what God is doing in that person's life, or if they aren't a Christ follower, how they've come to that place. It is amazing how listening suddenly gives you a platform to share then about yourself, how you got to where you are, and often times to tell the beautiful truth of the gospel. Just as people tend to label all Christians the same way, often times unChristians do just that (read UnChristian if you don't believe me), we Jesus followers do the same to them. Not all Un-Christ followers are pro-choice, drunkards, promiscuious, pro-LGBT, or athiests. They may not even be anti-Jesus or the anti-church. But unless we engage in a way to be heard, we'll never know. We'll just give them a lable and expect them to wear it and move on.
Listening, loving, learning, and leading instead of labels defining. Maybe the birth of a new (or actually very old) Christian culture?
(No time to proofread, Mr. Mom today. Feel free to inform me of any mistakes. :))
(www.stuffchristianslike.net by Jon Acuff)and in it his guest blogger used the phrase "Christian culture" in a way that did not describe me or most of the Christians that I know and regularly associate with (not that I intentionally disassocaite from other Christ followers, but just not everyone of us travel in the same circles, right?)
But as I read I just realized that I don't think we can use the term "Christian cuture" accurately anymore. Several years ago we were the "Christian Sub-culture", existing in the underlayers of actual culture, as if in a galaxy far, far away. Realizing that we'd become quite a voting block we made the switch and demanded to be recognized as ACTUAL culture, not culture's little brother. As the switch was made we appeared to be content to be lumped together in one box labled Christian Culture.
BUT I SAY NO MORE!! - Well, maybe with less emphasis. I've just always had some personal issue with our culture's tendency to assume certain things are true about someone because of their particular label. I do know several Democrats who are pro-life, want small government, and are gun owners, and really really do love Jesus. (I know that I paint with a large brush there but there is indeed an assumption of stance determined by political party). Just because I am a Christ follower doesn't mean that I fit someone's personal expectation based on their previous experience with other followers of Jesus.
So then, what do we do? This could be quite a cultural pickle. - I guess we just have to follow the lead of Jesus who really appeared to be about people. You know, how He would come into town and actually talk to them. Eat with them. Engage them personally. I love that about our Saviour. He is relational. It appeared that He really loved, and liked, people.
I love to sit with a coffee (preferably venti Sumatra, black and if possible the first cup from the pot; or a french press of Kitamu or Sidamo - See, not all coffee drinkers are the same), and hear someone's story. To hear what God is doing in that person's life, or if they aren't a Christ follower, how they've come to that place. It is amazing how listening suddenly gives you a platform to share then about yourself, how you got to where you are, and often times to tell the beautiful truth of the gospel. Just as people tend to label all Christians the same way, often times unChristians do just that (read UnChristian if you don't believe me), we Jesus followers do the same to them. Not all Un-Christ followers are pro-choice, drunkards, promiscuious, pro-LGBT, or athiests. They may not even be anti-Jesus or the anti-church. But unless we engage in a way to be heard, we'll never know. We'll just give them a lable and expect them to wear it and move on.
Listening, loving, learning, and leading instead of labels defining. Maybe the birth of a new (or actually very old) Christian culture?
(No time to proofread, Mr. Mom today. Feel free to inform me of any mistakes. :))
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