Tag Archives: Jesus

Sharpen Your Spoon

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Is it just me, or does the world want more out of us, but continues to offer less in return? Are we paying more for what was a free service only a few years ago?  Flying is a perfect example of the negative change in the cost to value relationship of so many services or products we use. Flying used to be a luxurious form of transportation: good food, free movies, and big suitcases – a pampered existence for a few exciting hours.  Now, you pay extra to bring clothes to your destination, unless you can squeeze them into a lunchbox sized carryon; if you are hungry, then bring your own food, and if you want entertainment, bring a credit card.  The cost is up and the value is down.  When I was young, ice cream was sold in a 4-quart container; we called it a gallon of ice cream.  Now, since the makers of the ice cream have grown weary of raising prices, they have decreased the amount sold to 3.5 quarts.  Since when is 3.5 quarts equal to a gallon?  Everywhere, we are asked to pay more, and offered less in return – except in our transactions with God.  His cost has stayed the same, and His value has not tarnished.  His gifts are free and the value is immeasurable.  Yet, even with a cost to value relationship so tilted in our favor, the darkness in this world wins too often, so we believers need to do more.  The amount of pain, sickness, and hurt; the abandonment of all things Christian by governments big and small, and the stress of living in uncertain economic and political times, calls us to do more.  We, who believe in God, must dig deeper to help those who do not know how, or where to dig.  We need to sharpen our spoons.

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The Second Sin

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Most of us try to be first; first in that “over 40 year old 5K race,” first to get the promotion, first in line at the theater, first on line to buy concert tickets, first to get the view of the morning sunrise, first in your college graduating class, or first to get control of the TV remote.  Being first has been a preoccupation with humankind, from the beginning of the Olympic games where we proved who was best at some sport, to the first to file a patent so we can lay claim to ownership of a design or idea.  It is a natural human condition to want to be first, with a few notable exceptions: the first to die, the first to pay taxes, the first to sin.  The reasoning behind not wanting to die first is obvious, and no one enjoys paying taxes so why do it first?  To sin is to willingly separate from God, so why be first at something so bad?   The initial sin is almost expected, because we all fall short of perfection, but the second sin is by choice – after observing or doing it once, we with full knowledge do it again. So maybe, it is better to be the first sinner, rather than the second. Perhaps the first sin is not the worst, but it is the second sin that we all must avoid.

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The First Step

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The first thing that I noticed was his eyes; piercingly intense, visible even through the thick brown hair that was wet with sweat and had intermingled stains of red. Those eyes could have been wild with anger, or hate, we would have understood, but instead they were sincere, full of compassion and knowing. His eyes were kind – even today.

He was kneeling in thick dirt, dried mud from sweat and blood covered his hands to the elbow; his feet and calves were equally stained. The crowd roared with approval when the soldier raised the whip high to the sky. He yelled for the beaten man to “get up now.” Idiot. Didn’t he know that whipping a hurt man will not make him move any faster? I wanted to look away because he was my friend, my master, but I could not. The whip came down hard; his cry was muted by the force of the approving mob. He had been beaten, but he wasn’t beat. He moved his right foot slowly, dragging upward to a kneeling position. The cross was balanced on his right shoulder, with the cross member in front just past his knee and the end reaching ten feet behind. Weighing 200 pounds, it was a massive killing staff designed with only one purpose. The crowd continued screaming for more, hoping for another blow from the guard. But the guard was tired from a long night, so he rested, hoping for selfish reasons that the prisoner would stand up soon. 

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Unbroken Glass

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Dreams are a fickle animal.  Not the dreams we have while sleeping, although the two can definitely be related, but the dreams we have for our future, or that of a spouse or child.  Dreams are the building blocks of the road that goes up; they’re the yellow bricks that lead to a sunset over a flower filled hill.  Dreams sustain hope, and draw our lips to smile when the circumstances that surround us would dictate otherwise.  A house, a new car, a college diploma, a promotion; these are common dreams, but so are peace, serenity, contentment, belonging, acceptance, and love.  The fulfillment of some dreams then can be seen and touched, being made of wood, stone and steel.  Other dreams are as ghosts, invisible to the eye, but real to the heart and mind.  Hard as a rock or light as air, dreams are a powerful creator of emotions, turning light into darkness, and back again as quickly as a thought.  The importance of having and holding a dream in the context of a full life cannot be overvalued, so then dreams must be carefully constructed and stored in a fortified space, protected from the harsh elements of today. 

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A Mosquito in the Back Yard

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Have you ever wondered what it might feel like to be a mosquito? Probably not, and if you have perhaps you should seek immediate psychiatric help. For the moment though, we’ll pretend its okay to consider becoming a small, annoying pest. The good news about a mosquito is that they belong to a very large family. Cousins, aunts, uncles, brothers and sisters are in abundance, although they come and go rather quickly. Your family name is Culcidae, and there are 3,500 different species in your family. We all know people who can’t go anywhere without meeting a friend (and it’s annoying); mosquitoes are like that.

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Love Happens in the Moments Between Dreams

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My bride shifted her leg, just a little, but enough so that my foot no longer touched hers.  That was enough to bring me from a deep slumber into a semi-conscious state where dreams appear real, and reality flickers like a candle on a dark night.  We were spooning, cuddled together under clean sheets and a down comforter, perfectly matched as two spoons in drawer.  She was warm, radiating a soft fire that kept the winter chill from invading our bed.  She says that I am like a heater, always good to keep the bed warm, but it is she who brings warmth.  My knees touch the inside of her thighs, and my left hand rests gently on her hip.  I feel her body rise with every breath, and I hear the soft melody of air caressing her lips.  But my foot is no longer in contact with hers and that causes a ripple in my happiness, so without my asking or prompting, my left foot moves the two inches needed to find her.  And then, having accomplished its goal my foot can be at peace again.  

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In The Desert

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Even though I wore denim pants, the sharp grains of sand bit through to my knees like so many small razors, so that the intense heat of the desert floor was able to freely burn my skin in a hundred tiny sparks.  I crawled with my toes lifted off the sand as best I could, because the heat was so intense in the midafternoon they burned with only a momentary touch.  My calves cramped almost hourly, forcing me to stretch and then I touched the desert – inflicting another burn atop a previous wound.  My hands were not so lucky, yet in a way they were fortunate.  One hand was always in contact with the sand, so they burned red; but it didn’t take long for my palms to callus and scar, so I couldn’t feel the destruction happening, I just knew that it was. 

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The Brake Lights in Front of You

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When driving on the freeway in heavy traffic and something happens ahead of your car, the tail lights of cars far up the freeway light up, warning you of problems down the road.  It can look like the lights on an airplane landing strip, each red light sequencing its turn to glow immediately after the next one in front, so that fifty lights covering a mile can rush toward your car in just seconds.  It can be an immediate warning system, if one chooses to see it.  Flashing brake lights that far in advance of a problem, can save your life, unless you are so preoccupied by “other stuff” you don’t heed the warning.  Unless you are too busy to see the warning signs; then a big crash may be in your near future.

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People Are Just People

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The lady seated to my left is quietly sleeping, now that the turbulence has ended and the plane is smoothly making its way across Texas. Her neatly groomed white hair frames a lightly tanned face, with lips that support a broad smile, and wrinkles that testify to memories of a life fully lived. She boasts those fine lines at the corners of her mouth that come from smiling more often than frowning.  I had the pleasure of speaking to her while she was being helped onto a wheelchair while boarding.   She didn’t understand English and it didn’t matter, because she said thanks with a sincere smile and nod when I offered help. I did not need a linguist to interpret her meaning.

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The Vast Middle Ground

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The bell shaped curve, that great equalizer of the school classroom, is meant to explain how a population of test scores will eventually unfold itself neatly along a predetermine path, thus displaying the test results into upper, lower, and average positions. In my eighth grade English class, I prayed that everyone else was as confused and ill-prepared as I, so the entire curve would be adjusted downward, giving me a fighting chance for a graded-on-the-curve C. But the concept of a predictable outcome of highs, mediums and lows, is not just used in school; cars are labeled as luxury, mid class, and economy, you can fly in first class, coach, or in lower fare seats. The bell shaped curve is also used to described our life (yours and mine), in terms of its quality when compared to everyone else. Are we middle class, upper class, or poor? Those labels are thrown at us by politicians, reporters, educators; the need for others to categorize our life into a single box is nearly fanatical in its scope.

Perhaps worse is when we place our ability to be happy (content, or joyful) on a human bell shaped curve, relegating the amount of time we can spend being at the apex of life to 10-15 %, and when we are ‘just average’ to 70% of life’s timeline. I don’t believe people knowingly choose a mid-level happiness state for the bulk of their life, I think it just happens. I think we self-impose an expectation that being in a constant state of over-the-top exuberant happiness is wrong – only weird or naive people think like that. We tend to accept that good is good enough, and great is rare.

Ask someone the question, “How are you?”  The overwhelming response is, “Good.” You will get a few greats, and a few that are  ousy, but good will dominate. I submit that being great is a much more natural state that being good, and that we can, and should, redefine the curve to include more great, and less good and lousy. I believe that the plan was always for greatness, and we have deviated from where we can be.

Here are a few ways to move the bar towards great:

  • Redefine the driving force that creates your personal happiness (or joy) away from external sources to internal ones. Try not to rely on a person, place or event to make you happy. Choose to be happy all on your own.
  • Use your own definition for happiness, not that of someone else. It’s your life, you get to define it.
  • If happiness and joy are elusive, try doing something great for someone else, and something great for yourself too. Feeling great spreads from person to person like butter on warm bread.

I’m not proposing an arrogant version of great or a prideful view of happy. Just the opposite, I am promoting a humble and sincere version of being at the top, where there is room for everyone.

I find joy in my faith, where I am told that I am special, I am one of a kind and I am loved beyond my capacity to comprehend. There is nothing wrong with feeling good, but there is something very right about being great.

Thanks for reading.