Category: Life as a Kid

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Provoking on Purpose

When I was a kid we played “Capture the Flag” in our youth group at church a lot. Our church’s yard had a sidewalk running right down the middle, and it made a great “no-man’s land.” We’d have people from both teams come right up to, and even walk along, the sidewalk. If you were standing on it you could set one foot into the other team’s territory without fear of being tagged out. As soon as you left the safety of the sidewalk, though, you were fair game.

We’d try different tactics to try to get an advantage over the other team. We’d have one or two people charge the boundary but stop before crossing it, drawing attention while someone further down the line raced into enemy territory. We’d swarm the boundary, but then have all but one or two people stop before crossing. The idea was to provoke the defenders to jump after these people, and then others from the horde would see their chance and join the assault while the defenders’ attention was diverted.

Usually there’d be a small handful of people on either team that were focused on strategy. You also had a portion who didn’t much care for strategy, but instead just looked for opportunities to start trouble. Then finally, you had what I’d call the “reluctant participants.” They didn’t really want to play this game, so they were just sort of enduring it until it was over.

Most of the provocative tactics involved coming right up to that line and ratcheting up the tension. The strategic thinkers didn’t intend to cross it, but they also knew that in the heat of the moment, there would be enthusiastic teammates who would take it upon themselves to muster up the extra zeal to do what others didn’t seem willing or able to do. For the strategists it was partly manipulation, but it was also partly to see if they could get anything useful out of the unplanned developments. If a teammate was able to grab the flag and get back, so much the better…the team won. If, on the other hand, they got hurt somehow during the assault, the rest of the team got to grandstand and point fingers at how aggressively and unsportsmanlike the defending team was playing. The manipulators of the group were able to crank up the tension, inspire others to “cross that line,” and if any of their teammates got hurt in the process, they’d be able to say “well this wasn’t my fault, I never told anybody to do anything like that.”

We’ve got the same kind of thing happening in protests all around the country. Right now the hot-button issue is whether to interfere with ICE operations. I’m not sure how to state this any clearer: the law is the law; if you have an issue with a given law, you should focus on getting it changed. Interfering with law enforcement operations is illegal; if you interfere, you’re guilty of a crime. You’re an accomplice. It shouldn’t be a surprise that you’ll be treated like a criminal during the response. When you resist or provoke law enforcement officers, they have no idea who you are, what your intent is, or how violent you are. Since they have zero insight into those things, if you get into a confrontation which looks to be escalating, they’re forced to assume you’re willing to escalate further and faster than they are. It’s a failure of common sense to ratchet up the tension with someone who’s legally authorized to use deadly force if they feel threatened.

Where I take issue is the politicians’ intentional manipulation of the masses. Did you ever see the classic movie “The Sting” with Paul Newman and Robert Redford? They were two con men trying to pull off a big score, and they had a large cast of supporting characters. They had a visual signal among those in the know…kind of a brushing of the finger along the nose. It was sort of a wink and a nod to others who were in on the con. Politicians seem to be intentionally cranking up the pressure on the issue, stopping just short of calling for violence. Their winks and secret signals tell the organizers to set the stage. The mob mentality which comes along with protests takes it from there, and those who are a little more enthusiastic than others end up crossing the line of safety.

This persistent state of elevated hostility is how we get assassination attempts and fatal confrontations with law enforcement. Then, after something tragic has occurred, people blame the other side of provoking the situation. This foments more tension and hate, further perpetuating the problem.

How do we stop the madness of this cycle? I’m not sure there’s a simple answer to that. First and foremost, don’t contribute to an angry environment. That goes for discussions at work, discussions among your most trusted inner circle, anywhere you go…attack ideas, not people. Squash or redirect discussions that focus animosity on people. Ideas, not people, should be the subject of criticism. Secondly, hold your elected officials accountable. The people you voted for shouldn’t be out there stoking an atmosphere of violence and be able to avoid responsibility for it. Let them know you don’t approve. This is an uphill battle, because hot-button issues are good for fund-raising; it’s often not in a politician’s best interest to tone things down or actually solve problems, because if you solve problems, you can’t run on them in the next election. You may need to call your elected officials’ office so often they start recognizing who you are by the sound of your voice.

As Americans, we enjoy a lot of freedoms. Not every country allows its citizens to criticize the government, or to assemble in protest. I think we’ve taken some things for granted and pushed things too far. We’re still fellow countrymen (and neighbors), even if we don’t always agree. Don’t buy into the idea that if someone disagrees with you, you have to write off everything about them. We can still get along with each other even when we see things differently, and that’s one of the hallmarks of being American, and one of the things that makes our country great.

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Ever Think You’d Be a Teenaged Millionaire?

I’d guess I was somewhere in the range of 12-14 years old for this one. Out of the blue, I got a letter in the mail from Publisher’s Clearing House or something similar. Whoever it was, it was a sweepstakes business, and the letter implied that I’d be winning a million dollars!

Of course I know years later that this was too good to be true, but back then, in the 1990s when things were simple and I was young (and a million dollars went a lot further than it does in the 2020s), I was completely taken captive by the idea. I set about planning what to do with all that money.

I decided my largest purchase was going to be a house that was for sale in the neighborhood where we lived. It might have even been right next door, I’m not sure. Once I figured that out, I broke out the JC Penney catalogue that came in the mail every year. Remember those? They were bigger than a phone book (hopefully you remember those, too). The catalogue had all kinds of home furnishings. I picked out a living room set with black leather couches, I think. I remember I also wanted to pick up a hot tub for the back yard. I dog-eared a whole lot of that catalogue’s pages. I don’t remember how I mentally got past the problem of being too young to make legal transactions like buying a house, or figuring out taxes, or being too young to even be able to drive a car. All that little stuff would surely get taken care of for someone with money!

I got pretty deep into this whole thing. Eventually my parents had to break it to me: “you’re not winning this money.” I think they showed me the original letter I received, and pointed out the fine print or the way the words for the announcement were chosen very carefully to make me believe I’d already won. Looks like I was going to have to figure out some other way to pay for the latest Michael W. Smith and Steven Curtis Chapman albums.

Hopefully reading from the Bible is a regular occurrence for you. If it’s not, try to make that a habit starting this year. Here’s something to watch out for though. English is not the language the Bible was originally written in. As you can imagine, not every word in the original languages directly translate to English. There’s a reason “lost in translation” is a common saying. Folks have been translating the Bible for quite a long time and they’ve put a lot of thought into this, but sometimes the reasons translators chose particular English words or phrases aren’t evident or explained. That’s where a study Bible can really come in handy. It explains some of those word choices, along with the context of why actions were so meaningful in light of the days’ traditions, and it often links related passages.

While a scripture-only Bible is wonderful, a study Bible typically brings much more understanding and context. In much the same way that I needed to have someone who understood the reality of “you’ve won a million dollars*” explain the asterisk to me, I find it to be enormously helpful to have a study Bible that breaks things down for me or explains it to me in an understandable way so I don’t make my own erroneous assumptions and accidentally sink my beliefs into something that’s simply not true.

Lord, thank You for giving us the written word. Help me find the right translation of the Bible I can readily understand, and the right tools to grasp the significance of what I’m reading. In Your name, Amen.

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Bad Ideas Just Come to Me; No Extra Thought Required

Have you ever had a lapse in judgment?

When I was a young teenager, probably 14 or 15, my church’s youth leader (Todd) dropped a couple of us off at the entrance to our development. It was December, so it got dark pretty early. I’d guess it was around 5:30 pm; we were coming back from weightlifting (gotta get huge, right?), and since our housing development was on the way back to where Todd was returning the van, he dropped two of us off.

I’m not really sure what I was thinking, but I guess I decided I’d be a bit of a clown, and after I exited the side door and started walking around the back of the van, a dumb thought entered my mind. “Wouldn’t it be funny if I jumped onto the back bumper when Todd started driving away?” I just assumed Todd would somehow know I was there, stop the van, and say “har har, wise guy…off.” Then I’d give one of those dopey teenage “shucks” laughs, and comply, then we’d both be on our way.

Well, I jumped up onto the bumper and held onto the back door’s handle (the handles were more solid back then than today’s handles).

He didn’t notice, though. He started driving away and didn’t slow down. Well, like any joke gone wrong, you just kind of want to make an exit with as little fanfare as possible. Since we weren’t going real fast just yet, I figured I’d just hop off. It was dark though, and I couldn’t see how fast we were going. In one of those “this probably isn’t a good idea but I’m going for it anyway” moments, I hopped off the bumper. As proof I was less than fully committed, I hung onto the handle, just in case.

Yes, the van was moving too fast for me to safely hop off. Once my feet hit the ground it became crystal clear that I wouldn’t be able to stay on my feet. They got pulled out from under me and I started being dragged behind the van, hanging onto the rear door’s handle with one hand.

The ratty old shoes I was wearing at the time were a little too big for my feet, and I distinctly remember one of them starting to come off. If I lost a shoe, that foot could have been subjected to some very nasty road rash, and I probably would have let go of the handle. By the good Lord’s providence, it slipped right back on when I turned my foot a different way. Truth be told, I don’t remember whether or not I started yelling for Todd to stop. My other hand held the jacket I’d brought with me, so I started whipping the van’s back door with it to try to attract Todd’s attention and get him to stop.

Right around that time, a car rounded the bend and started coming up behind us, and illuminated the situation with its headlights. I can’t imagine what that driver must’ve thought when he/she witnessed the scene.

Now, sometimes you do something dumb and you’re fortunate enough that nobody really finds out about it. At the time this happened, we lived in one of the corner houses in this development. When Todd dropped us off, all I had to do was cross the street and I would have been in my yard. The way events unfolded, if you had been on our house’s back deck, you would’ve had a great vantage point to seeing a van driving away with a kid hanging off the back, flailing his coat, illuminated by the headlights of a car following behind. Well, for some reason, my mother was back there and had a great view to all of this. That was probably a pretty horrific sight. Sorry Mom.

Well we probably only went 50 yards or so, and what felt like 50 mph in the dark was probably more like 20-25. A pretty confused Todd stopped the van, and as soon as it was safe, I let go of the handle and left the road for the safety of the grass. My shoes were noticeably more worn than they were 60 seconds ago, and were still warm from being dragged across asphalt. I don’t even remember if I gave Todd any explanation, or if I just waved a “thanks for stopping” and walked away. It was an incredible act of divine protection; my shoes took the only lumps of the evening and I walked away without a scratch.

I’m sure this was one of those moments where Mom wanted to both hug and strangle me. I don’t really remember walking in the front door or what Mom said, but I know she somehow saw things play out, because she’s brought up this event several times in the past. At the time, I probably just mumbled an “I’m fine, what’s the big deal?” in typical teenage boy fashion.

To the teenagers out there: you’re gonna do dumb stuff. Don’t do it on purpose, you’ll do plenty of dumb stuff accidentally. Your parents are going to worry about you, and they’re going to lose sleep over you. Sometimes when they just give you random hugs or tell you they love you, they’re not overreacting, they’re just thinking about all the ways things could have gone wrong and are simply glad you’re okay.

To the parents of teenagers out there: God bless you. Being the parents of littles is physically exhausting, while being the parents of teenagers is emotionally exhausting. I see why hair turns gray or falls out in this stage of life. Don’t let eye rolls stop you from telling those kids you love them and giving them extra hugs. Pray for them like crazy, and foster their spiritual development as they barrel toward adulthood.

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Sportsmanship Tanks if You’re Losing As the Clock Runs Out

I never really got into playing basketball, but I’ve played a few games here and there in my younger days. I was always pretty tall, so I got invited to jump into some pickup games. It turns out being tall was the only asset I really brought to the game. I couldn’t shoot. I didn’t understand coordinated plays. I was the goofy-looking lanky guy who could run around and set a pick, and I could rebound, but that was pretty much it.

What’s kind of funny is that regardless of whether I was on the winning or losing team, as the game began winding down, people on the losing team seemed like they started committing more fouls. Ever notice that? Maybe it was to try to stop the clock and catch their breath. Now and then it was because the guy they fouled wasn’t good at free throws. Most often though, it seemed like it was out of frustration with the increasingly clear notion they’d soon lose the game.

I don’t know what kind of timeline God’s working with, but it’s been nearly 2,000 years since Christ died on the cross. It’s been a few less decades than that since Christ said “Behold, I am coming soon” in the book of Revelation. We’re a lot nearer to the End Times than we used to be. Prophetically, there’s no event that needs to occur before the Lord raptures His saints. There’s nothing standing in the way. It could literally happen any hour now.

Our enemy, Satan, knows this, too. He doesn’t know how much time he’s got left, but he knows his time’s getting short and that when the clock runs out, he’s in for a world of hurt. He, too, is dealing with the increasingly clear notion he’ll soon lose.

What that means for us, though, is we’re going to get fouled more often. Satan’s always been sneaky, played dirty, and taken advantage of every opportunity, but that’s how you have to be if you’re trying to compete with someone who’s stronger than you. He can’t hope to compare with God, even if he can convince a percentage of people otherwise.

Between now and whenever the Lord pulls His team out of the game, look for those fouls to increase in frequency and to get more flagrant. Your sense of decency will be assaulted. Nothing will remain sacred. Innocents will be dragged into the fight. Hatred for Christians and Jews (but not other religious groups) will rise, and so will hatred for Christian and Jewish principles.

I say this not to scare you, but to help you anticipate the challenges we’ll be facing. Doing the Lord’s work will come with more conflict than in the past. At the same time, however, God will still equip you with what you need for following His calling. We’re not immune from harm, but we’re on the winning team. Step with boldness into the Lord’s assignment for you, and let the enemy forces rage.

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Maybe it Was a Pep Rally or Something

Remember assemblies in elementary school? It was always fun to show up for those. One time when I was probably in third or fourth grade they had us all come in and sit down cross-legged on the floor. I don’t remember what this particular assembly was about, but part of the way through, the side door suddenly opened, and some huge dude in a basketball uniform exploded into the auditorium, dribbled the ball a few times, and laid the ball into the nearby hoop while just about touching the rim.

I think this guy was a student at our high school down the road. I don’t remember much else about this assembly; I think he was an all-star or someone who was getting a pretty big scholarship to a college somewhere. If I saw this happen today, I probably wouldn’t be too impressed. But when you’re like, four feet tall, sitting on the floor, and some high schooler bursts in and does what he did, it leaves you in awe. We all ended up standing in line to get the guy’s autograph.

Maybe he eventually made it to the big leagues; maybe he peaked in high school. I’ve got no way of knowing. For all I know, his autograph is still stashed away in some box in my attic. I’ve got no idea what happened to that guy, or even who he was.

It’s a little sad, but even most people in your family are more or less forgotten after two or three generations. Sure, you can trace back to them in your family tree, but unless you interacted with them and have memories of them it gets tough to feel like you really knew them.

This life is very brief. James 4:14 says “Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.” Our lives (especially the glory of youth) are fleeting. Want to be a part of something that truly lasts? Participate in building the Lord’s kingdom. Use the spiritual gifts you’ve been given. You’ve been entrusted with time, talents, and treasure; seek the Lord’s will for how He wants you to put them to good use working for Him. If you jump in, you’ll be part of something that doesn’t fade with time.

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Why Does This Whole Thing Seem so Familiar?

I don’t have a whole lot of free time, but when I do, sometimes I like to watch old TV shows. There’s a lot of demented stuff in today’s shows, or they find ways to ratchet up the tension so much there’s no way you’re going to sleep soon after watching it. With the old stuff, yes, there might be more plot holes, or the show was written for an audience with less access to information than today’s audiences, but there’s usually no problem falling asleep after (or even during) the show.

One of the old shows I watch is Magnum, P.I. (not the remake…the original 1980s Tom Selleck version). This is a show about Thomas Magnum, a former Navy SEAL doing freelance work as a Private Investigator in Hawaii. In the show he’s constantly bumming favors from his Vietnam buddies and rarely pays back what he owes them. He gets to enjoy the lavish accommodations, including the famous red Ferrari, of a famous author’s Hawaiian estate in return for providing security advice (much to the chagrin of the estate’s caretaker, Higgins). He’s often dealing with clients that can’t pay his full rate, getting cornered in an alley by some burly dudes that don’t like him snooping around, or trying to avoid Higgins’ pair of Dobermans.

As I watched one episode, there was something about the plot that seemed very familiar, like I’d seen it before. Every 4th of July, Magnum had a tradition of spending the day alone at sea in a little boat called a surf ski. (It’s kind of like a kayak, but it’s got an open top and is easier to fall out of.) While he was out at sea, a reckless boater got too close and capsized him. He got separated from the surf ski and paddle and got caught in one of the strong currents near the islands, and he ended up needing to tread water for like, 12 hours or something crazy like that. I didn’t remember what happened in the end, but I remembered that part of it.

It turns out Magnum, P.I. was a show my dad used to watch when I was a kid. Although I was a bit too young to watch the show when it originally aired, he must’ve been catching this one as a rerun while I was dawdling and trying to avoid going to bed one night. The thought of having to tread water for hours blew my mind as a young kid (and who knows…maybe it subconsciously had something to do with my becoming a lifeguard later), and left a strong-enough impression that I remembered it more than 35 years later.

You know, back before they had TV shows, and way back before paper was readily available, people had to rely on other means to pass down significant things from one generation to the next. The Old Testament Israelites, few of which could even read or write at an advanced level, used markers and oral tradition to keep alive the memory of God’s faithfulness to them. They’d build monuments to serve as reminders for times when God saved them from destruction, or recite the story of how the Lord liberated them from Egypt (the retelling of which is commanded in Exodus 13:3-10, and still today occurs at the Passover seder). Many of the Psalms themselves are written in ways that aid memorization; some Psalms have a verse starting with each successive letter in the Hebrew alphabet. Other Psalms are sung at specific times of the year to commemorate certain things.

Even though we currently have what seems like limitless information available at our fingertips, it’s important to remember and celebrate the information we already have. The Lord’s faithfulness to us is second to none, and His grace and mercy toward us far exceed anything we deserve. Despite the fact that we’re bombarded with more information per day than any generation in history, don’t forget the importance and relevance of God’s actions toward us all. It’s the most important and consequential thing you’ll ever hear about, so don’t forget it, and be sure to pass it on to those around you.

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I’m Just Here for the Boo’s

Well happy Halloween, everybody. Anybody still dress up on Halloween now that you’re not a kid anymore?

The event wasn’t a huge thing for me as a kid. I do remember one year, though, I got a paper knight’s mask from Denny’s or some other restaurant, my parents wrapped some kind of box in aluminum foil, gave me a little cardboard sword (also wrapped in aluminum foil), and I used a pot lid as a shield. I was one mean-looking knight, let me tell you. I was, probably in my second or third year of college?

No, just kidding. I was a kid, probably 3 or 4 years old.

The fun part about Halloween (aside from the candy) is getting to dress up and pretending to be something you’re not. It’s fun for a few hours. Some people unknowingly embrace a lifestyle like that, though. Jesus called some people out for doing this.

Pharisees and those highly educated on the law held positions of authority and were responsible for teaching God’s word to a people who didn’t have ready access to their own copy of the scriptures. Rather than focus on justice and mercy, the spiritual leaders harped on strict adherence to the tiniest aspects of the law (even going so far as to institute laws God did not command). They did a great job tithing even to the smallest detail (giving the appropriate portion of their herb gardens) and made sure they sternly warned anyone who dared to walk too far on the Sabbath, but they completely neglected the things God actually valued.

When Jesus confronted them on it, here’s what He had to say: “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.” – Matt 23:27-28

(That was only a portion of what Christ said during an exchange where He didn’t hold much back.)

Jewish law forbade people from touching graves, which caused ceremonial uncleanness. Tombs back then were whitewashed on a regular basis, their brilliance causing them to stand out and warn people away from them. It also helped them look very clean and neat. In combination with sometimes having ornate decorations on the tomb, you could get the impression that these were very nice places to be, almost forgetting the decay, uncleanness, and defilement residing inside.

My point? Sure, have fun dressing up for Halloween for a little bit, but don’t forget…it might be easy to hide your true self from others, but God can peer right through your best costume and knows exactly who you are. If that’s not something you’re happy about, maybe it’s time to make some changes in your life.

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I Never Even Tried Before. Why not?

Boy, I don’t even think my parents know about this one. When I was in 11th or 12th grade, I did something very uncharacteristic of me. I decided to try out for the school play.

Now you have to understand, this was a very unusual thing for me to pursue. There must have been a cute girl in the cast or something. I can’t think of who it would have been, though. Honestly, I think I just wanted to try something totally new.

I can’t even remember what the production was, but I remember I decided to read for the part of a major supporting character. It wasn’t a lead role or anything, but it was somebody who’d grab a lot of attention when on stage. Think ‘Franc’ from “Father of the Bride” or a detective in some other play.

I’d never done a school play before (aside from stuff in elementary school). I went to the interest meeting, got a copy of the play, and grabbed a packet to fill out. In that packet I wrote down the part I wanted to play. One of the questions they asked was something like “if you don’t get your preferred role, are you willing to accept a different part?” I thought it over for a bit, then answered “no.” At some point I turned in the packet, and eventually received information for auditions.

The faculty member in charge of the play was an English teacher I’d had sometime in high school. She knew me from class, but I’d never worked with her in an acting capacity. Whatever the role was, I gave it a shot during the audition. I thought I did fine, but didn’t know the teacher’s thoughts on it. Ultimately, I didn’t get the part, and I don’t know who did. Since the “try something new” thing didn’t pan out this time, I didn’t even go see the play.

With the benefit of hindsight, I totally get why I didn’t get the part. Even if I had a really good audition, I had no track record for the director or other students to rely on. The director can’t take an unknown and throw him out on stage in a prominent role. Will he freeze? Will he nail it? There’s just no way of knowing. Besides, if we’ve got Joey over here, trying out for the same role, and the director’s worked with Joey before, she knows a little better what she can expect from him. Unless the director’s short on cast members, there’s really no upside to picking the brand new guy who’s only willing to play one particular role rather than someone who’s been in plays before and is willing to consider multiple roles if it helps the team out.

Christianity can be a little like this. When it comes to leaps of faith and following God’s lead in your life, track records of past experience are important. The twist here, though, is that past performance doesn’t help God trust you any more, it helps you trust God more as He provides for you in subsequently bigger and bigger ways. With the benefit of hindsight, you can see how your previous struggles and challenges helped prepare you for subsequent larger struggles and challenges. Again, this doesn’t build the Lord’s trust in you, but you get to look at your history of being faithful and seeing God at work in and through you. Seeing that, you trust Him more.

I’d also urge you to be willing to play something other than your preferred role. We can get comfortable in the ways we serve God, and become less and less willing to step out of our comfort zones as time goes on. The Lord loves a willing heart. I’ve heard it said that as Christians, we’re always in the furnace or on the anvil. God spends a lot of time honing us and shaping us into who He wants us to be. I believe a willingness to follow His call into waters deeper than we’re comfortable with is a great way to demonstrate our obedience both to Him and to ourselves.

If you have no track record of faithfulness to the Lord, why not start today? Start small. Begin reading from the Bible every day. Start tithing. Stop doing things you know you shouldn’t be doing. Get rid of stuff you know you shouldn’t have. Being faithful in the small things helps build that history, that lifestyle of obedience. As you follow through on those small things, God will give you bigger opportunities to make a difference in someone else’s life, or lots of other peoples’ lives.

But it all starts with small steps of faithfulness. Start building that track record today.

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Big Fires Come From Little Sparks

One time when I was pretty young, one of the neighbors hosted a bunch of the neighborhood kids for a backyard campout. I don’t remember the group size for sure, but there were probably about four to six of us that had a campfire and spent the night in a tent.

This was my first time sleeping outside (it’s probably a stretch to call it camping), but I had grown up with lots of campfires. We had a roaring bonfire, and we kept it going for awhile. I’m more of an early riser than a night owl, so it didn’t take long for me to turn in for the night while a few of the other guys stayed up around the fire.

The next morning I was one of the first to wake up. The tent was humid and stuffy, so I headed outside. With nothing much else to do, I wandered over to the campfire pit. The fire had gone out, but the stones and ashes were still warm. Using a stick, I stirred the ashes around, looking for embers that were left over from the previous night.

I found a single ember that wasn’t much larger than a spark. As soon as I uncovered it, it started glowing brightly. As a fire dies down, a layer of ash settles on the hot coals and creates a blanket that prevents the coals from getting fresh oxygen. The coals use up whatever air it can reach, then go into a dormant, smoldering state until either the fuel or air run out, or more fuel and air become available. When I uncovered the ember it the fresh oxygen revived it, but it was about to run out of fuel. I looked around nearby and found some dry leaves and pine needles and set to work trying to rekindle the fire.

With some patience and fanning, the leaves and needles soon began smoking heavily, and finally caught fire. I grabbed more nearby kindling and began building the fire to the point where it was crackling. By the time everyone was awake, it was roaring again.

All of us have sin in our past. Some have a past that includes addictions of some sort, which is very difficult to ever be completely free of. It could be drugs, alcohol, pornography, or any number of other vices. A percentage of those people are able to overcome the worst of it, but they know they must completely turn their back on that addiction if they are to remain free of it. If you know someone that’s a recovering alcoholic, for example, and they haven’t had a drink for many years, it’s a bad idea to encourage them to celebrate a special occasion with “just one” small drink.

Those people know themselves; if they’ve decided to completely abstain from the object of their addiction because they know it’s the only way to remain free of it, please respect that. A roaring fire can dwindle to just one small ember, but an ember is all it takes to build a raging and crackling flame once more.

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When the Wind Blows, is it Good or bad?

I’d guess that I was probably 8 or 9 years old when I got my first kite. It was an orange diamond-shaped kite that had a blue dinosaur on it. I didn’t really know how to use it, but I had seen kites in cartoons and seen something about Benjamin Franklin flying one in a thunderstorm or something, so I knew what kites were supposed to do. I just didn’t know how to launch one.

There was another kid in the neighborhood, I’ll call him Billy. He was a little older than me, so he had a little better idea of what needed to happen. One breezy day we went to a nearby area that didn’t have many trees, and he was able to get the kite aloft.

Once it was up in the air he kept letting out more and more string, and the kite went higher and higher. It caught more wind, and its tails fluttered in the breeze. Every now and then it would start to dive, but giving a tug on the string helped turn it back skyward.

Eventually it got so high I wondered how much higher it could possibly go. The string that came with the kite was on a roll, like a smaller, sturdier version of the cardboard at the center of a roll of toilet paper. It turns out Billy let out almost all the string; with so little left, it came unraveled and the last of it slipped off the roll. My kite blew away.

I figured that was the end of that. I was pretty bummed that my kite was gone. Billy said he was going to go look for it, but I wasn’t real hopeful. After seeing the way that thing had danced around the sky, it seemed the wind may as well have carried it to the next state. Sure enough though, he tracked it down, wound up all the string, and brought it back to me.

Kites, as it turns out, soar when they’re securely tethered to the ground and fighting against the wind. A kite’s shape is designed to lift it higher when it meets resistance. Once that anchor is lost or there’s suddenly a lot of slack in the line, it has no way to resist the wind and loses its ability to create lift, then falls lifelessly to the ground.

To all you Christ-followers out there: you live in a dangerous time. The free ride is over. America was founded as a nation that embraced Christianity, but those days are gone. People that dislike Christianity are more proficient at attacking it than Christians are at defending it. Although Christianity might represent the biggest slice of the nation’s remaining religious demographic, that slice’s voice is drowned out by culture, influencers, and other messages that run counter to it. To be a Christian and take a stand for the principles Christ taught, you have to, without doubt, stand against the wind.

You can choose to keep a low profile if you want. Keeping with the kite metaphor you can stay low, not letting a lot of string out and thus not getting high enough to really let a lot of people see you taking a stand. If you start taking too much heat you can introduce some slack, going with the flow and falling back to a lower profile where you blend in better and get seen by fewer attackers.

Or you can realize the full potential of the way you were designed: to rise higher when the wind blows against you. There will be ups and downs, no doubt, and the tension on the string will sometimes seem like it can’t possibly get any worse, but I’d urge you not to be the one to prevent yourself from soaring. Instead of self-limiting, let the one holding the string be the one to determine how high you’re allowed to go. He knows what’s coming, what He’ll equip you to handle, and what the wind’s going to do. Why not see how high He’ll let you go?

God, I know some of the Bible stories of how You used men and women of faith. That was so long ago and seems like it’s not how You work anymore. Help me remember You’re the God who doesn’t change, and that You still reward great faith. Help me stand for You and not be afraid, no matter what the wind is doing. In Your name I ask, Amen.