Life Truths

I used to be a very, very outdoorsy person.  The kinda guy that loved a good 8 mile hike on a Saturday afternoon.  I was the kinda guy that loved a tent, the sound of crickets, and swimming in a hidden forest stream.  Mind you, I wasn’t a tree hugger or anything, I just really enjoyed fresh air, exercise, and enjoying God’s creation. 

Today I had to do a serious evaluation of a transformation that has taken place.  If I had to be honest, in the past 15 years I’ve truly come to appreciate hotel rooms, bug spray, and air conditioning.  Late summer is always a blessing and a bit of a curse.  Gnats the size of bees and angry bees the size of small hummingbirds.  Why is it that if I want to roll around in the grass with my kids I have to walk into the house with 18 various bug bites on my arms and lets and forehead?  That’s right, forehead.  A bite on my forehead looks like high school acne all over again! 

I don’t know if this is the kind of change I foresaw coming when I was 20 and sleeping out under the stars but it certainly aggravates me now from time to time.  How sad that I prefer a hotel room to a two-man.  But change is inevitable I guess. 

I am thankful that God doesn’t change and that He doesn’t change His mind.  He’s the same yesterday, today and forever.  In a life full of changes (some warrented and some just sad) it’s nice to know that there is a constant that you can hang your hat on!

Now, where’s the bug spray?

I started pulling all kinds of lovely things from my vegetable garden.  Now mind you, I’m not “Mr. Greenjeans” by any stretch of the imagination but it is very fun to put seeds in the ground in the beginning of May and eat a bunch of tasty stuff in July.  I feel so organic.  I feel so empowered.  I feel so green.  I feel part granola.  It’s just a little garden this year but already I can see a bigger foray into raising vegetables next year.

Perhaps we move on from cucumbers and green beans to zucchini and some corn.  It hasn’t been without its challenges though.  Mostly due to my own ignorance/stupidity.  For example, tomatoes don’t like to rest on the ground and unless you rig a contraption to hold up the heavy branches the bugs will be enjoying a nice salsa!  Or, how do you know when a carrot is ready?  Really you can’t know until you dig at it and perhaps sacrifice a couple for the sake of the bunch.  I’ve already wasted three due to my hastiness.  I just can’t wait! 

The real fruit of a carrot is usually buried so digging is required.  In our lives, it’s the abrasive digging that often times will reveal the real fruit of our lives.  God’s not as interested in the surfacy fluff that we try to put on but rather the condition of our heart.  The abrasive things, the challenges in our lives tend to dig past the fluff to what really lies buried  beneath.  The stuff of eternal value!  In Phil. 3:8 Paul writes that he considers the stuff on the surface with its pretty appearance to be filthy trash compared to the new relationship that he had with Jesus.  It’s my desire that compared to knowing Him and loving Him with a serious heart, everything else would just sort of be minor on the radar of life.

So last night, in an effort to score some “quality time” with my wife I DVR’d her favorite show of the summer…”The Bachlorette” and we sat down together to watch it.  I’m not sure if it was real quality time but during the episode I could feel the size of my brain actually shrinking.  This is probably the reason that I started forgetting necessities at the grocery store!  In the midst of my wife explaining to me why David is good and Wes is bad I began hearing inside my head the cry of millions of tiny little braincells as they said their last goodbyes.

They say that you can’t grow braincells back but I’m gonna try.  Thanks to “The Bachlorette” and my stupid idea of “quality time” I now have to read “War and Peace” and listen to classical music for 8 hours a day for the next week to have any shot of remembering eggs and milk the next time I go to the grocery store!!  Why coudn’t I have come up with a different way to connect with my wife!?

Just writing this made me think about this guy in the Bible named Paul.  Over and over again he expressed his resentment and frustration at the things he had chosen to do in his past.  He wished that he could change it all but he couldn’t.  He even referred to himself as “wretched”.  Yet he knew that through Christ he was forgiven and even if he couldn’t take all those poor choices and sins away – Christ did on the cross.

Now I don’t know if the “Bachlorette” is a sin to watch but it certainly got me thinking about poor choices.  Maybe not for my wife but definitely for me.  I’ve had my share in life as well that (in all seriousness) go way beyond the choice of television shows.  But (just like Paul) I thank God for Christ and his forgiveness.

“What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this dying body? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:24-25)
By the way, Nascar fans, you better put “War and Peace” on your reading list as well!

Here I am at 36 and I’m leading the family on our first road-trip vacation.  It’s been pretty good even though we get the expected comments from the back.  My 7 year old updates me on how far behind we are running based on what I told him earlier regarding arrival time.  It’s like a never ending cycle of “Dad, shouldn’t we be there by now!?”  Uhg.  And then there is the two year old who pulls on her car seat straps every 20 minutes and yells out at the top of her voice, “I STUCK!!”  I know, honey, we’re all stuck right now (more than you know).  Was that a Waffle House!?

We stopped to visit cousins in TN and had a blast playing outside and swimming.  We decided to put my son on a little motorcycle with training wheels in this big field just to see what he could do.  Now mind you, it only went like 6 MPH and he did have a helmet on.  But I got concerned when I remembered that he gets flustered on his bicycle of another bicycle is within 10 miles of him.  So we put him on this little bike and off he goes in the big field.  In the distance I see one lone tree.  Just one tree – surely he won’t hit it.  He’s heading for the tree but there’s this great big field – he’ll turn away.  Son!  Turn away.  Nope.  He managed to avoid a massive field and ride right into the lone tree.  No harm – but it made me wonder why.

Then I began to think about our lives and the lone trees.  We get distracted easily.  We miss the parking lot because of the one speed bump.  We find the obstacle and we fixate on it rather than living free and enjoying the ride.  In the Bible is says “In his heart a man plans his ways, but the Lord orders his steps.” (Prov. 16:9).  I wonder if sometimes I prefer to put my own steps together rather than God’s steps and increase my tendancy to run right into obstacles.  What a high price we pay sometimes for our own indepentent streak.  Maybe peace and freedom can actually be found in letting go and turning over the reigns.  I’ve hit enough trees.

I’m a baby and I’m not afraid to admit it.  The only problem is that I married an RN so my level of sympathy on the home front is minimal when I’m under the weather.  My ailment lately has been some sort of poison all over my skin.  Basically, if there is anything in the air, growing out of the ground or any other kind of poison in a 15 mile radius I’m going to bubble up, swell up, and itch like dog with fleas.  Not only is it obnoxious to me but it is rather gross to look upon.

I crawled into bed last night and informed my wife that I feel like a leper…she chuckled.  I scratch…she chuckles.  I medicate with caladryl, special soaps, steroid creams and pills and she chuckles.  This from a woman who has never really had poison ivy in her life.  Actually I get yelled at more than sympathy.  “Quit itching!”  “You’re making it worse!”  “That’s gross!”  Ah, married life.  I get no sympathy but I do get some oohs and aahs over the seeping puss and bubbling flesh.  Not sure why I married a nurse.  Guess she saves all her sympathy for a paycheck.

It does remind me how dependent we are on God.  How one little thing can cause chaos in our life.  A child that gets sick.  A paycheck that is late in coming.  Skin that is irritated beyond comprehension.  I’m glad that He cares enough to work through it all.  In Exodus God informed Moses that He had “heard the cries” of His people and He was ready to act.  Honestly, I’m not sure how people get through life without knowing personally the God who desires to rescue them from life, death and themselves.  Cry out to Him and allow Him to be your balm or healing now and forever.

I live on a hill.  An obnoxious little hill that has it’s share of blessings and curses.  The blessing is that most people who want to try and sell you something at your front door think twice about it and usually move on.  This is fine by me because I don’t need to buy vacuum cleaners or security systems.  Why would I need a security system when even the thiefs won’t climb this freaky driveway.

It is a curse for snows and mows.  (Nice rhyme, eh?)  I have the rock salt market cornered in central PA.  If I didn’t we would never get to work to pay for the rock salt.  Mowing is just as rediculous.  It feels like you’re mowing uphill no matter which direction you go.  It’s wierd – kinda freaky actually.  And to top it all off  my self-propelled mower lost its self-propeller.  Now it’s a tank on wheels.  I’m not handy with engines or machinery and I don’t have extra cash so I’m pushin’ it all over the hill.  Even more ironic is that since this mower was once self-propelled it’s like twice as heavy as a normal mower.  So now my hefty rear is pushing a mower twice the normal weight all around my yard.  My back’s killing me but my quads and biceps are coming along nicely.

Yesterday when I was mowing I pictured that Greek mythology figure that was punished by always pushing the rock uphill.  That’s what I felt like – always pushing this huge brick on wheels uphill.  But it reminded me that my life doesn’t have to be like that.  I know a lot of people that feel like they are destined to push uphill for all eternity.  God set us free from this feeling if we allow Him.  The Bible says that there is now no more condemnation for those that are in Christ Jesus.  Simply put…Jesus took the eternal hill away and gave us a self-propelled life. 

That’s something to be thankful for the next time I’m buying rock salt.

Today was funny on many levels but the most humorous thing came as a result of laughing at life.  A couple times a month my wife and I go to a local nursing home to sing some church songs and have a little bible study with the residents.  These encounters usually provide for some hilarity such as loud talking, interrupting, belching, etc.  But today, when we went down to the memory impaired (Alzheimer, dementia) unit I was castigated by one of the residents for not bringing a shoe horn.  She  was trying to “help” another patient put on their slippers which was funny in of itself.  But then she pointed at me and yelled, “This one here should have his shoe horn on him.”  Uh, no. Or as Homer Simpson would say, “Doh!”

Now I don’t know if you are serious about your shoe horns but consider some of the other things that lucid people have said to you in life that you could have laughed off and left it to God but you felt compelled to pull out the verbal sword.  Many times we do more harm by quickly responding in anger rather than “offering the other cheek”.  Jesus prescribed this in Matt. 5:39 when he said, ” But I tell you not to try to get even with a person who has done something to you. When someone slaps your right cheek, turn and let that person slap your other cheek.” 

Funny thing about the other cheek…it will probably hurt again.  But it also sends a message to the other person.  It says “Your words have no control over me.”  Maybe you could even carry a shoe horn as a reminder that words damage you only if you let them.
 

I’m pretty content now to say that looking back, as a teenager, I may have known Calculus but in reality I knew nothing.  Compared to the stuff of life I was mindless.  All I really thought about was study hall, girls, sports, girls and whether my cologne smelled like Polo, Drakar, or something out of the toilet.  Despite my know-nothingness I managed to convince myself that I did know everything and I tried to convince everyone around me to the same.  I’m sure my parents must have chuckled under their breath for endless hours thanks to my “complex”.

Then I hit my 20’s and I think I actually hit the peak of mental accuem.  Who needs to-do lists and reminders when you’re 23.  You’re remembering names, learning new skills left and right and you still haven’t put on the 20 pound bag of potatoes that you carry as a belly like at age 35.

Saddest thing is that now I’m about to turn 36 which I know isn’t really old but I look at my family, my eye glasses, my trips to the medicine cabinet and my Clark Griswold actions and I’m really fearful for the next 35 years.  Do you remember all the stuff Clark did that looked so rediculous on the big screen?  Strapping the dog to the car bumper and then hitting the highway while forgetting he was back there?  Going postal at Wallyworld?  Getting stuck on the roundabout in London?

The other day I was cleaning the windows and rather than properly setting up a ladder I actually stacked boxes and chairs to try and save time.  Luckily nothing happen but I look back and see shadows of Clark.  When did I arrive at this point?  I thinkt he greastest cause of stress in our lives is many times ourselves.  Perhaps the greatest stress relief is to a) not take ourselves too seriously or b) quit putting ourselves in these positions.  Like if you are in your mid-30’s and you see a pick-up game of teenagers – don’t ask if they need another “baller” because you don’t qualify.  Hopefully the only thing that qualifies at about you is your medical insurance card because you’ll need it in short order.

All that said – live life to the fullest but remember that God’s fullest for you does not need to be Clark Griswold’s fullest.  Be content in Him and in the real you.

So I just trudged through the rain down to the end of my driveway with two cans and a recycle bin.  This exciting exercise occurs each week and is known as “trash day”.  At what point in our lives do we begin to identify “days”.  You’ve got “hump day” which signifies that you’re are halfway to happy I guess.  You’ve got your standard “pizza day” which in some families signifies that day of the week when mom and/or dad can’t stand the tought of standing on their feet one extra minute (especially in the kitchen).  Maybe you’ve even got “carpool day” which signifies your turn to suffer the most unimagineable kind of torture by hauling several other bratty kids too good to ride the bus to and from school.

Our lives begin to revolve around days don’t they?  Our lives begin to revolve around circumstances.  Our lives just begin to revolve and spin out of control or they burn a rutt so deep that we’ve lost track of where we were once headed.  Is this what God intended for our life?  Slepping cans of refuse to and from the curb while everybit of anticipation and excitement for life inside of me slowly dies.

John 10:10 is a great verse where Jesus said, “I came that they may have life to the fullest!”.  I refuse to be boxed in by work, schedules or trash.  God’s plan is to carve out something greater.  He says in Jer. 33:3 that if we will call to Him he will show us great and mighty things we don’t know.  Each day I get that glimpse and I love it more.  Break your rutt and get your head out of the trash or pizza box and sniff out the life God’s building for you.

My arm hurts. It burns with that day old severe sunburn kind of feeling. Only this wasn’t from laying like a beached whale in the sun without the smallest bit of intelligence to put on sunscreen. This pain has come from a different kind of stupidity. Yesterday I climbed a ladder with a chainsaw. It’s pretty safe to say that nothing good can come from that. I though that I had it all under control. Besides…what could go wrong, I have used my chainsaw a million times before.
So I start cutting down this limb that’s almost hanging over my neighbors house. As I am just about to finish I realize that I started at the wrong angle and this things gonna roll right back into my chest. By the time the tought clears through my incredibly dense noggin that rests on my shoulders I hear the crack and I free my trigger arm to block the heavy branch from jamming my adam’s apple. Instead it takes huge claw marks out of my forearm from elbow to wrist.
Seriously, I could have won $10K on AFV with this piece of work.
The point of this blog is not so much about me chairing the new professorship of the “School of the Idiotic” but rather the pain.
My arm has been scourged and it is killing me…especially when I shower and sleep. Jesus spent this week some 2000 years ago being scourged, pierced by nails, crucified and spit upon. And it wasn’t the result of any poor choice on His part but because of a love that He has for all mankind.
The prophet Issiah put it this way when talking about the coming Christ: “He was wounded for our rebellious acts. He was crushed for our sins. He was punished so that we could have peace, and we received healing from his wounds.” (Isaiah 53:5) My pain caused me to remember how blessed I am to have a Savior who willfully went through so much more pain than I can imagine so that I might live forever.
God is very good and I am not so bright. Maybe I should put that on a bumpersticker.