Author: Tim

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How Can a Rational Person be a Christian?

So you’re a Christian, huh? You seem like a pretty rational person other than the fact that you believe the universe and mankind were created in seven 24-hour days less than 10,000 years ago, that a 500-year-old man built a huge boat and then went out and gathered two of every kind of animal in the world onto it, that a big fish swallowed a dude and swam around with him alive in its belly for three days before vomiting him up unharmed, and that a virgin gave birth to the Messiah, who was able to turn water into wine, walk on water, and raise himself from the dead. But yeah, other than that you seem pretty rational.

Why on earth would any reasonable person become a Christian?

It’s okay to have and explore questions like this, because if you can’t provide a response, how will skeptics in your life ever learn the truth? This is the “mind” part of when Christ stated the importance of loving the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength, and all your mind. I’ll share a little bit about one thing that helps assure me that God is out there and that He’s in charge of history.

People that aren’t familiar with the Bible usually don’t understand that it’s not a monolith. It’s not a huge book that was written by a single author. It consists of 66 books written by nearly 40 authors, spread out over the course of hundreds of years (with a big gap between the Old and New Testaments).

Aside from the events that took place in the Bible, there are a lot of “nonreligious” things that happened in history. Think about major international news events of the modern era. World War II took place; men landed on the moon; the Berlin Wall came down; 9/11 happened; Russia annexed Crimea; and the Chicago Cubs finally won the World Series. In the same way that those events can all be verified outside of religion, there are plenty of other writers outside the Bible that captured some of the world’s major events that the Bible wrote about.

Can you imagine if someone predicted all those major events I just mentioned decades, or even hundreds of years before they happened, with a decent amount of specificity? It would surely raise a few eyebrows, and odds are you’d be curious to take a look at the other things the author wrote.

That’s exactly what happens in the book of Daniel. It predicted the rise and fall of several empires, and even described each of them to some degree. Daniel predicted the then-future (which is our history), and now in hindsight we are able to corroborate from non-biblical sources the accuracy of those predictions. That’s like Abraham Lincoln stating that Tom Brady would one day join the Tampa Bay Buccaneers…before the sport of football had even been invented. We can look in history books to verify that the Babylonian Empire was captured by the Persian Empire, who then fell to Alexander the Great, and upon his death the territory he’d conquered got split up into four different regions and was given to four of his generals. We hear of an unbelievably arrogant king that we learn from extra-biblical sources to be Antiochus IV Epiphenes. Daniel chapter 11 discusses some of the efforts at diplomacy and trickery between some of these four. Then the book describes events that are still in our future.

When you consider the magnitude of what this represents, you begin to understand that the book of Daniel is about much more than a story about a lion’s den. If you study the book of Daniel closely, you see that it laid out the future with a startling amount of detail. To anyone alive during the time Daniel’s prophecies came true, imagine the credibility his writings gained. Wouldn’t you want to learn more about what Daniel said and how he knew the future? Daniel pointed straight to God and gave Him the glory for being able to control and know the future.

This is only one case of how common sense and logical thought build a case for the idea that there’s more than what we can see. Put them together and the case starts to get pretty strong. How can a rational person be a Christian? How can you not at least consider it?

Mr. Spock: one of the most rational (half) people I know. Courtesy of Pinterest.

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To the Class of 2020

Graduations look a little different these days

It’s difficult to overstate the level of disruption the Coronavirus has brought into our daily lives. A few years from now we’ll likely view this period as a lost six months, year, whatever. For many of us, we’ll probably be able to shake off this experience and view it as no more than a strange blip that we lived through. There are simply some things, however, that will be permanently lost. One of the first that comes to mind is the opportunity to walk with your peers at an in-person graduation ceremony.

Whether we’re talking high school or college, your senior year is special. After all the waiting, you’re now in the class that’s at the top of the heap. After graduation, you’ll probably keep in touch with some of your friends, but it’s never quite going to be the same again. In that sense, graduation ceremonies are bittersweet mixes of celebrations and goodbyes. In my mind the lack of an opportunity to partake in a traditional ceremony robs students of closure both in triumphing over the academic struggles and in parting ways with classmates.

To all the Seniors out there, I’m sorry the virus robbed you of this memorable experience. There’s nothing I can do to restore that for you, but this week’s post is in honor of you, and hopefully you can live vicariously through the experiences shared here. It’s nothing major, but hopefully it’s at least fun to read.

One other major thing that distinguishes your senior year from all others is that, as upperclassmen, you’ve got dibs on pulling pranks. It’s important to understand that pranks are usually pretty pointless in terms of what they achieve, but they can be a thrill to plan and execute. The journey is the destination. Very seldom does a prank result in something that alters the course of history, but history is full of memorable “what was the point of that?” pranks.

As a senior in college, I was super busy my senior year (see this post for more background about how I brought this on myself). Some of my friends and other people from my class took part in some antics around the campus, but I just didn’t have the time to participate. A group of my friends snuck into the cafeteria one evening under the noses of the cafeteria workers and swiped a few stacks of the trays students used during meal times. They then brought them to the gym after hours, where one of the participants had “accidentally” neglected to secure a certain door upon locking up for the night. The next morning a whole bunch of meal trays were discovered floating in the pool, and I’m not sure how the cafeteria supplied trays for breakfast.

To our college’s credit (and to our dismay as student delinquents), they had a fantastic prank clean-up crew. I was on my way to class one winter morning, at least a few days after it had snowed, and as I walked along one of the main routes that included a tunnel through one of the buildings, it was odd to see one of the maintenance staff using a snow blower to remove a huge pile of snow near the tunnel entrance. I didn’t think too much of it until later, when I learned that someone I knew and a group of his buddies had filled up the bed of a pickup truck with snow multiple times, and then proceeded to dump the loads of snow in front of this tunnel. (And I know at least one of you is reading this…it was a great attempt, thanks for filling me in on it later!)

We eventually figured out that the diligence of the “clean-up crew” was the largest barrier to the “epic-ness” of whatever prank we would attempt. How frustrating it was to undertake these endeavors only for them to be covered up or countered by the college staff. We had to come up with something more diabolical. (These days I use my creative powers for good. Mostly. I am a dad of three kids, so there’s still some mischief.)

In our last month of senior year, a group of us decided that in order to have a bigger impact, we had to do something that would overwhelm the ability of the cleanup crew to quickly return things to normal. We decided that to get the largest percentage of the student body to see our handiwork, we would target the campus chapel on one of the nights before a chapel session would be held the next morning.

Coincidentally, all of us had work/study jobs as a way to pick up a little money. One of us had a job as a janitor somewhere on the campus. I don’t remember if it was a little at a time or if it was all at once, but one guy snuck a garbage bag full of toilet paper rolls that would be used to TP the chapel. Considering how precious a commodity toilet paper has been over the past few months, this seems like it could be considered a felony today. It also lends some insight into the truth behind why tuition prices keep going up so much.

I didn’t have an appreciation for how wasteful this was until recently

I was still very busy with things to do, but on this occasion I figured out a way to get stuff done while being a part of this prank. We had recently returned from an eventful club whitewater rafting trip, and I wanted to record many of the details in a journal before I forgot them. (You can read about some of those adventures here and here.) Between classwork, activities, studying for finals, and winding down my final college semester, I didn’t have time to effectively capture those memories. I even recorded more of those trip details while sitting onstage during Baccalaureate and graduation.

For this prank, I was going to be the lookout, with a walkie-talkie, who journaled during the dull parts. This was a unique situation, because although two of us had walkie-talkies (the lookout and one of the TPers), I would be the only one talking. I ended up using different voices to pretend to be a couple of different people on the radio who were playing some kind of game nearby, and we had established certain words ahead of time to indicate how safe it was to participate in the hooliganism. The guy on the other radio would listen to my babblings, keeping an ear out for these code words.

I sat at a spot where I could see most of the entrances to the chapel, and saw the pranksters moving one or two at a time toward the door they’d arranged to enter. A few of them carried garbage bags. They got inside and got to work. I think someone else heard my radio’s transmissions though, because a few people showed up in the area looking like they expected to find someone. A security guard eventually made his rounds, and even stopped to chat with me. I’m sure it was unusual, though probably not the weirdest thing he’s seen, to find a college student writing in a book in the dark. He probably put two and two together the next day, but we didn’t get caught that night. I gave the TPers as much time as I could to do their thing, but little things kept adding up, and I eventually gave the signal to scram.

We all met back up afterwards, and the TPers were very enthusiastic about the feat they’d accomplished. I didn’t get to see the final results of their work, but they told me they’d been running around up in the catwalks and loft, tossing TP through the chandeliers and other hard-to-reach places for all they were worth. “Man, they won’t have it all cleaned up for a week!”

I don’t know if I ever looked forward to a chapel session so much. The next day as I walked into the chapel, there was no sign whatsoever that Team TP had even been there.

Thwarted again.

Class of 2020, pranks may not have been at the top of your to-do list, but you probably didn’t get to do all the things you wanted to do before your last day of in-person class. That’s not the end for you, though. As you move into your next phase of life you’ll have setbacks and you’ll have triumphs, but the most important thing will be for you to keep plugging away, even…no…especially if there’s more “rough” than “smooth.” I believe you can do it, and that this will shape your outlook even after things pick back up again. Good luck, God bless, and best wishes as you make the most of the opportunities you encounter.

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You’re the Key

Those are all keys behind him

When I was really young, my dad was a maintenance guy at a Christian conference center in eastern Pennsylvania, and our family lived on the campus. Groups of people from churches in New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania would come and attend retreats at this place. Once the groups departed, somebody had to walk around to all the rooms that had just been vacated, and make sure all the lights were turned off and the heat/air conditioning weren’t blasting in a vacant room. Sometimes that duty fell to my dad, and every once in awhile he’d take me along.

As a part of the maintenance staff, Dad had a key ring that was chock full of keys that opened just about anything and everything on the whole complex. It could be a master key for all the guest rooms in a given building, the key to the room in the gymnasium where they kept all the spare basketballs, the padlock to the room in the basement of the snack shack where they kept a bunch of electronics and motors, or a little key to adjust the thermostat in the meeting rooms. If you needed to open a lock anywhere on the campus, there’s a good chance my dad’s key ring had a solution.

As a kid, it was impossible to keep track of the differences between all the keys. A few of them stood out from the others; maybe some were shinier, bigger, or the head had a distinct shape or color. To me, though, most of them were indistinguishable from one another. If someone plunked me down in front of a random locked door somewhere on the campus with that key ring, it would’ve taken a good deal of time by trial and error for me to open it. Dad knew what each one did, though.

Now imagine that every Christian is a key on God’s giant key ring. There’s a door, or maybe a group of doors, that you have the ability to unlock (or lock). It’s your purpose; it’s what you were made for. You can be jealous of what other keys were built for, but it sure isn’t going to help you fulfill your role any better. You might even try to function in a lock you weren’t designed to operate, but it’s not what you were made for. Some people are dissatisfied or in denial about the lock in which they fit, and they want to choose their own lock.

Sorry Pardner, it doesn’t work that way.

There’s a lock out there for which you are the key, and you might encounter your lock during this unique time in history. The Man holding the key ring wants to use you according to His schedule, but if you’re unwilling or are too focused on a lock for which you’re not the key, you’re missing your calling. My request to you would be: work the lock you’re built for.

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Planned Obsolescence

Ever notice how you can say “they just don’t make it like they used to” about a lot of things?

For example, my parents have a clothes dryer that’s older than me. It’s complained a bit every now and then, but the thing is built like a tank and is still going after a few fixes. Modern ones seem to break if you look at them the wrong way.

Newer cars seem to fall apart much easier than the ones from, say, 30 years ago. What used to be fixed by a good hit with a ball peen hammer now requires more genteel computer diagnostics to figure anything out before you can start to make repairs.

I don’t know if this is true or not, but I heard that back in the 1940s and 50s, women’s pantyhose was of such high quality that the manufacturers worried they weren’t selling enough to sustain their businesses. Their product was so good that after a woman bought some, she didn’t need any more for a long time.

Enter the idea of planned obsolescence, or the intentional use of lower quality materials and construction to shorten the lifespan of a product in an effort to induce consumers to buy more of them. If it falls apart sooner, you’ll end up buying more units than you otherwise would have.

Here’s an odd thought: what if we are the lower-quality product? In 2017 the average life expectancy for Americans was 78.54 years. By comparison, at that point in Moses’ life, he hadn’t even stood before Pharaoh yet. Abraham didn’t have his first child until he was 86, and then he lived about 90 years beyond that. Noah was over 500 years old when he started building the ark, was 600 when the flood started, and he lived another 350 years beyond that until he was 950 years old! This was before antibiotics, nutritional supplements, and the medical knowledge we enjoy today. My friends, you and I are some of the best examples of planned obsolescence I can think of.

Even great figures of Biblical history are shuffled off the stage of God’s theater. Consider King David. Though flawed, he was one of the most genuine and passionate characters in the whole Bible. He’s the stuff legends are made of; as a youngster he vanquished a giant professional soldier with a sling and a rock, then went on to lead raids of enemy camps with ragtag mercenaries as his companions. Although defined as a man of war, his zeal for the Lord led him to set the stage for Solomon’s construction of the Temple by collecting an unbelievable amount of precious metals and other materials. Jesus came from the line of David, for goodness’ sake! At the end of his life, he was unquestionably recognized as a giant of the Faith. Yet even he was just a man, and was intended to play a small role in God’s overall plan. In spite of all his accomplishments, listen to how David is described in Acts 13:36:

“Now when David had served God’s purpose in his own generation, he fell asleep; he was buried with his ancestors and his body decayed.”

“Falling asleep” in the Bible is usually a euphemism for dying. That’s not the interesting thing though. There are a few different things we can take from this verse, but the two I want to focus on are 1. that he served God’s purpose “in his own generation,” and 2. when he had fulfilled God’s reason for putting him here on Earth, he moved on into eternity.

To the first point, can you imagine if you lived during a different time period? You could have lived 4,000 years ago, or you could have been placed on hold and not made your debut here on Earth for another 200 years. God put you in the here and now intentionally. You are a part of “your generation” because you are to fulfill God’s purpose within it. I don’t know what that purpose is and you might not either, but the fact that you’re reading this right now, today, means you probably weren’t born before 1940 or so. The “today” you see is not an accident or a random assignment, you belong here.

To the second point, you’re here on Earth to do whatever God put you here to do, and you might not be going anywhere until you do it. At some point after that He’ll escort you from this life, but it could be seconds or decades between when you “complete your mission” and you make your departure. To throw a curveball at the situation: almost none of us know with full certainty what our specific purpose is or when we’ll accomplish it.

Zooming back out to the big picture and our limited time on Earth, it seems we might be a little bit more like an aging toaster than we care to admit. We can tell when things are getting toward the end, but most of us can’t predict when we’re toasting our last bagel.

What are we to do then? I’ll summarize it as best I can:

Love God ferociously and use the talents, resources, and circumstances He’s matched you up with to make a positive difference in people’s lives, all the while giving the glory to Him. You will fall, you will have self doubts, and in many cases you will fail. There may be more bad days than good days, but you have been placed here, at this exact point in history, to make an eternal difference in some way.

There’s a song we’ve all heard a million times; it’s one we usually hear in December, but its message fits with the core of this post. If you were meeting the newborn King of Kings, and you simply couldn’t compete with the expensive gifts that others brought, one of the best things you could do is use the talents He’s given you to make Him smile. Isn’t that what we’re all after? (There’s a fun version of this song below.)  

Do your best to serve God’s purpose in your generation.

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I Hear What You’re Saying, But…

If I told you I’m a parent, you’d probably believe me, but it’s not the same thing as seeing evidence that I’m a parent.

I came home from work one day and saw a Frisbee on the roof over our garage. We often have misspelled words and stick figures drawn in different colors of chalk on our driveway or sidewalk. In the summertime I often see little bits of broken water balloons on our porch. Inside the house, the living room is seldom “all the way” cleaned up, even if we tell the kids to make it “Mommy and Daddy mode.”

We have kids, and there are signs of them everywhere. (It’s unquestionably a good thing, even though sometimes there are a few too many signs.)

These things, in and of themselves, are not proof that I’m a parent. To an observer though, these signs make the notion a lot more believable.

There’s something similar when it comes to Christianity. If you claim to be a Christian, yet you haven’t changed at all from the way you were before joining the faith, something’s probably not quite right.

Galations 5:22-23 describes the qualities that a Christian will develop over time. The author’s not saying that only a Christian could have these qualities, but, in the same way that the Frisbee on my roof is probably there because of a kid rather than an adult, a Christian’s life will contain signs, indicators, or evidence of the faith they’re claiming.

When someone accepts Christ, at that moment the Holy Spirit sets up shop in that person’s life. What does that mean? It means that from that moment on, God starts working on changing your attitude to be more like His. I heard someone say once that God accepts you for who you are, but He loves you too much to leave you that way.

My mom used to have a tee shirt with a three-by-three grid on it. Inside each box was a picture of some kind of fruit, but instead of labeling them “grapes” or “watermelon,” they’d say things like “patience” and “self control.” These nine things (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control) collectively make up what the Bible calls “the fruit of the Spirit.”

Having these fruits is not something that happens quickly. Fruit takes a long time to grow. You can’t put in a weekend of intensive Bible reading and prayer and have these things spring forth in your life; it takes time. The outcome of being a Christian and continuously pursuing a relationship with Christ is a life that is characterized by these nine fruits.

Consider taking a closer look at these traits. Is there one (or several) that you’d like to develop or increase in your walk with Christ?

Happy birthday Mom! Love ya!

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When a Fail is a Win

Strange times we’re in. While there are many people that no longer have the job they held a month or two ago, many others now work from home. For those folks, the reality is that sometimes they just can’t produce the same quality from home that they’re able to at their normal place of business. I don’t advocate for shoddy workmanship, but it’s important to understand that if you’ve turned in low-quality work of some kind, all is not lost.

We’ve heard many times that God can take terrible things and use them for good. It’s like saying God loves us. We’ve heard it so many times we lose our appreciation for what it means. What if I told you there’s a story in the Bible where God used someone’s poor-quality work to both glorify Himself and accomplish His will at the same time? That might make you feel better when you’re unable to produce the same quality of work you’re accustomed to turning in.

There’s a story in 1 Kings 20 that has a funny little twist. The Bible often glosses over big events in a very short amount of time, and if you blink, you’ll miss it. In this case, the Israelites were at war with a numerically superior foe, the Arameans. Verse 27 says that the Israelites were like two little flocks of goats, but the Arameans covered the countryside.

The Lord was kinda mad at the Arameans in this engagement, so he enabled the Israelites to cut down 100,000 of their enemy in one day, and verse 30 says that the rest fled into a nearby city. Here’s where you’ll miss it if you blink: “But the rest fled to Aphek into the city, and the wall fell on 27,000 men who were left.”

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never seen a wall large enough to fall on 27,000 men. In order to have a wall that big fall on so many people at once, we’re talking about failure at a spectacular level. The book doesn’t say anything about how that wall was constructed or what made it collapse; we just know that it happened, it was bad news for the Arameans, and it was all part of God’s plan.

Don’t misunderstand me, I’m not condoning work that’s intentionally sloppy or poor. If you can’t meet the level of what you’re ordinarily capable of though, do the best you can. There may be a divine purpose for that imperfection later on down the line.

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Life Lessons From…Skydiving?

Exiting an aircraft with Tony and his very recognizable jumpsuit

I’m certainly no skydiving guru. While I was a skydiving student, though, I had a few memorable jumps. I’m not sure what the requirement is now, but when I was working on getting my A License (the most basic jumping certification), the rule was that you had to accumulate at least 25 jumps and meet certain milestones along the way.

I was in the plane on the way up for my 23rd jump. The weather was turning sour, so this was the drop zone’s last load of jumpers for at least a few hours. We saw the cloud bank rolling in, and we were trying to rush up to altitude so we could jump out and land before the clouds obscured our view of the ground.

Another student named Jeremy and I were going to jump with our coach Tony. Tony was pretty familiar with us and we had all jumped together before. He wore a neon orange jumpsuit that was so bright it looked like it ran on batteries.

On a jump with Tony as my coach

I don’t remember what the freefall objectives of the jump were, but once we arrived at altitude we hopped out together and began going through our freefall plan. We fell through our predetermined “time to separate” altitude, so we broke apart to get some distance between us before we opened our parachutes. All three of us opened the chutes without a problem, but much to our surprise, the cloud cover had blown in much faster than we anticipated. We couldn’t see the ground anywhere. The only thing we had were our altimeters; we knew how high we were off the ground, but we didn’t know where we were in relation to the airport, so we couldn’t line up in our landing pattern. Since the wind was pushing us the whole time, the longer we floated aimlessly, the further off course we drifted, leaving us less margin of error for a safe landing at the airport.

Since Jeremy and I were still students, each of us had a one-way radio in our jumpsuit shoulder pockets. There was a guy on the ground with a walkie talkie that was waiting to spot us, and he would radio instructions about which way to turn and when to do it. Until we popped through the clouds though, it was useless for all of us.

Tony took the lead; he was the lowest jumper “under canopy,” so I followed him, and Jeremy followed me. I was glad Tony’s jumpsuit was so bright. It was eerie and unsettling to drift without direction in a thick fog. The last time we saw the airport, we were right over it, but the wind can be a lot stronger than you realize when you don’t have any visible references.

Suddenly we popped through the bottom of the clouds at a low altitude. The airport was impossibly far away! We had bled off so much altitude in the fog that there was no way we could make it back. Tony’s canopy had a much higher performance capability, so he made a break for the airport and was able to make it back. With our “vanilla” student rigs and oversized canopies, though, Jeremy and I had no chance of reaching the airport.

The dropzone where I learned to jump was home to the Guinness World Record holder of sport parachute jumps. Don Kellner, who just recently completed his 45,000th jump, was on the radio giving instructions to Jeremy and I. Don’s a funny guy; he doesn’t pull any punches, so he says it like it is and doesn’t sugar coat it.

“Well…find a place to land” came through the radio. Thanks Don.

We had blown way off course. We were now downwind not just of the runway, but of the entire airport complex, and we had a choice: land somewhere in a neighborhood, land somewhere in a wooded area, or land in a big rock quarry. Don advised us to shoot for the quarry.

When you’re a novice jumper, you usually have a flat patch of grass that’s as big as a football field to land on, and there’s usually plenty of other open space nearby (runways and the grassy areas next to them are usually pretty long). All of a sudden, a hilly rock quarry that didn’t have any wind indicators seemed like a pretty hostile place to land. It was the best of our bad options though, so we went for it.

With Tony out of the picture, I was now the lead in the flight pattern. I made a series of turns to get us lined up for what looked like the longest stretch of the flattest ground at the bottom of the quarry. We floated below the horizon and became committed to our flight path.

We both stumbled and took a few bumps and bruises as we tried running out our landings on the side of a hill. We made it safely to the ground without any blood or major injuries. After the canopies fell to the ground, we excitedly checked in with each other and exaggerated to each other just how truly awesome we were with lots of laughs, wild gestures to help relive the experience, and congratulatory slaps on the back. As we took a deep breath and looked around the bottom of this hole, we realized that we didn’t even know which way we should start climbing up out of the quarry. With all the midair turns we did, we lost all sense of direction and couldn’t even point to the airport or the nearest road.

Something tells me that we weren’t the first wayward skydivers to land in this quarry. Before we could even decide what to do, two of our other instructors, in their goofy neon jumpsuits, appeared on the rim of the quarry, shouting and waving to us. We were rescued!

Some general perspective on living: Life isn’t always going to go the way you planned. There are going to be times you find yourself traveling through a disorienting fog. Sometimes you’ll feel abandoned by the people you depended on (or you simply can’t keep up with them). In those times, when you’re at the bottom of a hole, someone might just show up to help you. They may not be what you expected, but it’s still an opportunity to find out which way to climb out of the hole.

We’re passing through strange times; it might not be a bad idea to accept a hand up when it’s offered. Keep your chin up; brighter days are coming.

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Worrywarts

I’ve got three kids. It’s fun to watch them grow, figure stuff out, and then teach each other the things they’ve picked up over time.

My older two have figured out that when they’re scared of doing something, whether it’s go down in the basement or knock on a neighbor’s door, it’s usually not as bad if they take someone along with them. As a result, their little sister often ends up going down in the basement or knocking on a neighbor’s door along with them.

Taking it a step further, the two older kids are downright brave if they’re watching out for their little sister, even if it’s something that ordinarily gives them the willies.

Ever notice how you tend to be more brave if you’re watching out for someone? You can more easily pull yourself together in a bad situation when someone else depends on you. When someone else relies on you, it takes you out of yourself, and you can rise above your fears.

There are a lot of very anxious people out there these days. If you’re one of them, the first thing I’d probably recommend is to ease back on the amount of news coverage you take in. News reports aren’t known for their soothing nature. Beyond that, though, consider mentoring someone or helping them through the unique circumstances in which we now find ourselves. If you’re focused on helping someone else get through a difficult time, you spend less time worrying about how you are going to make it.

Don’t get me wrong, take care of yourself first. What I’m talking about is the extra time and energy you might waste worrying. I’ve heard it said that worrying is like rocking in a rocking chair; it gives you something to do, but it doesn’t get you anywhere.

If you’re prone to excess worry, take a look around and see who you can help settle. It’s going to be okay, but in order for some folks to believe that, they might need to hear it from you.

Hang in there, we’re going to get through this.

New posts every Thursday on daregreatlynow.com

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Marching in Your Own Direction

You know, the world has been dealing with a lot of serious stuff lately, so here’s an entry that has no point other than to entertain you.

In Air Force Basic Training, you’re part of a “flight” of anywhere between probably 40-60 people. In my particular flight, we probably had 45-50 guys that all showed up from across America and got thrown together to live in two giant rooms for the duration of Basic Training.

In Basic, we had to travel all over the base on foot. Imagine mass-processing people off the street and turning them into professional Airmen. In order to do this on an industrial scale, there are facilities set up exactly for this purpose. Getting clothing issued, haircuts, physical training, vaccinations, eating three times a day, going to medical appointments, getting financial accounts established, talking to counselors about your career choice and their additional requirements…it all needs to happen in an orderly fashion, and the Air Force has become pretty good at it.

To get anywhere, our instructors needed to march us between locations. I hated marching. Flights would march four trainees abreast and the column would extend as far back as it needed in order to include the entire flight. The tallest people would be in the front, decreasing in height the further back you go in the column. As one of the tallest guys in my flight, I was always very near the front of the group anytime we’d be marching anywhere. That’s fine, except you need to be paying close attention to the instructor’s commands to turn left or right, because you’ll have less time to react than if you’re in the back.

I don’t know what it is about Basic Training, but it has a way of making people that are ordinarily smart into…well…people that aren’t smart. Honest, most of the time I’m a smart guy. Put me in Basic Training, though, and I overthink things, question myself, stumble over my words, and agonize over whether I sufficiently folded my socks. Things that are not normally a big deal become obsessions. I hated Basic.

I don’t remember where we were coming from, but one day we were on our way to lunch. It was old hat for us at this point. Our flight usually got “parked” outside the door while we awaited our turn to go in. As we arrived we could see the “parking space” where our instructor was going to put us, but we needed to do a pair of turns to end up there. This is where I almost got myself into trouble.

To end up in our spot, we could either turn left and then right, or right and then left. I’m not sure what happened, but I somehow got it into my head that our instructor told us to turn right, but the flight of trainees had started turning left. I could have just gone along with everyone else, but in my sleep-deprived state I must have decided that no, we were all going to be punished somehow for not paying attention to the instructor’s verbal commands. Well not this guy!

In a rare flash of independent thought at Basic Training, I decided to strike out on my own and break away from the pack. When the entire column of men in my flight turned left, I turned right.

This was an absurd sight. Hopefully there were no cameras that caught this moment. If there were, I imagine it got lots of air time in the instructors’ lounge. I marched at the same cadence as everyone else, but in the opposite direction. Our instructor either didn’t notice or pretended not to see me. He gave the command for the second turn, and I don’t know which direction he said, but I didn’t care anymore, and took the opportunity to start moving back to rejoin the flight. I met back up perfectly with the group and slipped right back into the spot I had just left.

I don’t think anyone ever said anything to me, and to this day I honestly don’t know who was right (though I tend to believe the massive group of people who turned left probably outweighs the single schmuck who turned right and was out there marching around on his own).

I guess it’s true what they say…I’ve always marched to the beat of my own drum. Thankfully it didn’t land me in hot water this time!

Hey, don’t be afraid to laugh at yourself. It’s rough out there these days, but things are looking up. Wash your hands and avoid groups of people, but if you think you can make someone smile with something as dumb as a story like this, go for it. We could all use a smile right now.

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Unprecedented

Skydiving is an awesome experience.

I’ve done two tandem jumps (where you’re connected to a licensed instructor) and 75 solo jumps. I’ve taken off in a plane 77 more times than I’ve landed in one. Cumulatively I’ve racked up just over 51 minutes of freefall.

To those that have never jumped, that might sound like a lot. For those in the know, though, it’s not that impressive. Seventy seven jumps is enough to know what you’re doing, but it’s nothing to brag about.

Contrast that with Don Kellner. He’s one of the owners of the drop zone where I learned to skydive, and is the Guinness World Record holder for most sport parachute jumps. In 2019 Don made his 45,000th jump! He probably doesn’t even remember the last time he landed in a plane.

I can’t find Don’s cumulative freefall total anywhere, but if you can measure mine in minutes, his can probably be measured in days or weeks. He’s performed over 10,000 tandem jumps; if he got 30 seconds of freefall for each one of those, that’s nearly three and a half days of his life he’s spent falling to the earth with someone else connected to his harness. The time he’s spent steering his parachute to the ground is in addition to that. Between plane rides up, freefalls, and parachute rides down, Don’s probably spent more than a year of his life off the ground.

Don and his team turn in his log books to make the record official after every thousandth jump, but in reality every jump Don Kellner makes is a new world record. Nobody has jumped as many times as him; every jump he makes is an endeavor nobody else has ever undertaken. Every single one is unprecedented.

I asked him once if any jump sticks out in his mind more than others, or if he ever had any especially dangerous problems during a jump. He recalled one jump where he tried to deploy his main chute, but when he tried, nothing happened. He then pulled the handle to open his reserve chute. Nothing happened then, either. Hurtling toward the earth without any functioning parachute, Don Kellner resigned himself to his fate. God must have smiled on him that day though, because one of the chutes shook loose and opened on its own, allowing Don to live to tell the tale.

He’s famous for not making a big deal of any particular jump. The folks around him have staged big events to commemorate big, round-number jumps, but leading up to it he always waves off the extra attention and says “just another jump.” It’s important to remember that jump number 45,000 could not have happened without jump number 26,373, without jump 999, or without jump 12.

Like Don, you and I lead lives that are record-setting in their own way. God calls us to a life of service in His honor. No two lives are the same. Each act of service we perform on Christ’s behalf, whether it’s something we’ve never done before or is the 45,000th time we’ve done the same thing, is unprecedented.

Also like Don, we don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to do the things God’s called us to do and what number “jump” will be our last. Sometimes we’re a part of doing something for God that’s surrounded by more fanfare, but most of the time our obedience is tied to things that are relatively unspectacular and rely on our regular faithfulness day after day.

That brings us to today. Each day we wake up presents opportunities to live for and honor God. Right now we live in very unusual times, which means we can collectively be faithful in ways we normally aren’t. I don’t know what that looks like for all of us, but you might already have a pretty good idea of how you can do the work God’s calling you to do.

Quarantines, social distancing, stay-at-home orders, and all the other recent buzz words result in a new (hopefully temporary) version of what we consider normal. There are a lot of lonely, confused, and/or scared people out there. In order to radiate God’s love during times of this “new normal,” we may need to take unprecedented steps to deliver it. From now until COVID-19 is a thing of the past, every day in a sense is a record-breaker in terms of the actions we take. We…you…are breaking new ground here, every day. Take the precautions you need to (and in some cases have been mandated to do), and within those parameters, have a look at practical new ways to love your neighbor.

And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’ -Matthew 25:40