Tag: kid

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The Cheese is Old and Moldy. Where is the Bathroom?

I was in 8th or 9th grade when I first took Spanish. When you’re first learning a new language, you’re memorizing a lot of vocabulary, learning sentence structure and gender agreement, and learning how to conjugate verbs. In my first year (Spanish I) there wasn’t a whole lot of emphasis on conversational skills. Our teacher that first year taught us the basics…we could all count to 20 or something like that, sing “happy birthday” in Spanish, ask where the bathroom was, and tell you that John/Juan is handsome and has a beard.

There was a lot more than that, of course, but the teacher was easily distracted. He was a nice enough guy, but he was dealing with a bunch of middle/high schoolers who didn’t really care what he was saying and didn’t always take him seriously. A lot of times he’d just end up telling us stories about his gang days (he didn’t seem like the gang type), singing weird off-key songs in Spanish, or generally rambling in ways that weren’t terribly helpful for learning. The homework from the book, though, helped reinforce the subject matter. We learned the rudimentary stuff from him, but got the actual instruction from the book if we took the time and put in the effort.

The next year we took Spanish II, and most of us had a different teacher. She was stone-faced, man. I had her for a few years, and even though she had a sense of humor, she hardly ever smiled. The first day I had class with her, the bell rang, she shut the door, then walked to a spot in the classroom we could all see and hear her. Without any introduction in English, she said “si me entiendes, levanta la mano.”

I was a little stunned at first, partly because of the drastic change in teaching style. Everybody sat there in confused silence, looking at each other. As I worked through it though, I was able to put together what she had said. “If…you understand me…raise your hand.” It took me a minute, and I figured it out. But when I looked around the room, nobody was raising their hands. With a little bit of a gulp, I slowly raised my hand, and I was the only one in the class to do it. She looked at me with what was probably a mix of disappointment at only one hand among so many being raised, with a mental note of “okay, so you’re the one setting the curve right now.”

I don’t know for sure, but I have my suspicions what she thought of the Spanish I teacher.

Not that I was a stellar Spanish student, but I picked up some stuff over those years in high school. I had two different teachers, plus the text books and the workbooks. When it comes to learning a new language, reading, writing, speaking, and hearing are four distinct skills you need to develop. These things all worked together to reinforce the same thing: being proficient in the language.

With regard to the Christian walk, there are different skills, disciplines, and practices that all work together to make you more “proficient” in your walk with Christ. Reading the Bible, hearing the sermons of a skilled Bible teacher, speaking prayers to the Lord, and immersing yourself in a culture where people practice their faith, if done consistently, will drive you toward a rich walk with God. Of course there are teachers who are more skilled than others, or who have styles that are more effective for one type of personality over another. If they’re exercising the gifts God’s given them, it’s all contributing in some way to a deeper understanding for somebody.

So stay in the Word, stay in prayer, stay in church, and make sure you’re using your spiritual gifts to do the Lord’s work. This engagement is how we help each other out in our Christian experience, strengthening not just our own walk, but each others’ in the process.

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Don’t Look at me in That Tone of Voice

I wouldn’t say I grew up in the boonies, but I could almost see the boonies from my house. Pennsylvania is pretty much known for Pittsburgh and Philadelphia, but there’s a whole lot of nothing filling up the rest of the Commonwealth.

The roads of our development were too small for a school bus to navigate, so the bus stop for our neighborhood was in the parking lot of a nearby church where the bus would be able to turn around. On inclement weather days, there would usually be a few different cars in the parking lot that we’d all pile into, and we’d listen to the radio to see if our school was closed.

Back when I was in middle school and high school people shared information differently. When there was bad weather during the winter, dial-up internet was the order of the day, and if there were websites for individual school districts, they weren’t updated daily. When all the families of the neighborhood wanted to find out if school was closed, having a delay, or operating on schedule, we tuned in to a couple of select radio stations.

One of the DJs we listened to went by the moniker “Gary in the Morning.” Gary’s radio station had a broad listening area, so if there were a lot of school districts affected, his lists could take awhile. First he’d read the alphabetical list of one-hour delays. Then he’d go through the schools operating on a two-hour delay. Finally he’d go through the list of schools that were closed that day. If our school wasn’t on any of the lists, it meant we were running on a normal schedule. (And if it wasn’t on any of the lists, we sat there in disbelief, arguing that there had to be some mistake…until the school bus showed up.) At any rate, we were all familiar with Gary in the Morning’s voice.

Due to the lack of dentists in the semi-boonies, sometimes it was necessary to drive a bit to get to one. For awhile, I went to a dentist whose office was very near the radio station where Gary in the Morning worked. I think I was vaguely aware that the station was nearby, but wouldn’t have even recognized him if he came in and sat down next to me in the waiting room.

There was one day at the dentist, however, where I didn’t need to see him. I was lying in the dentist’s chair, with the dentist doing his thing and the bright light in my face, when I heard a familiar voice talking to the receptionist out front. “No, it couldn’t be…” He kept talking, though, and yeah, that sounded just like Gary. Like a total buffoon, with dentist fingers and tools still in my mouth, I mumbled “Is that Gary in the Morning?”

The dentist, fluent in understanding people with this speech condition, came back with “It sure is! You want to meet him?” I don’t remember what I said, but the dentist gave a shout out to the front, and it wasn’t long before Gary came walking into the area where I was having my teeth cleaned. I was at an obvious disadvantage, but Gary was very nice. He shook my hand and told me I had beautiful teeth, which probably wasn’t true but what else are you going to say to a total stranger who’s in the dentist’s chair and is excited to meet you? I don’t remember what he looked like, but it was a fun little interaction with a local celebrity.

In the New Testament book of John, chapter 10 spends a lot of time covering Jesus’ description of himself as the “good shepherd.” Back in those days it was common to have flocks spend the night in pens, so they’d be easier to consolidate, keep track of, and protect from predators overnight. In the mornings when it was time to get them out of the pen, contrary to the methods of western shepherds, the shepherds of bible times did not drive their sheep, but instead called them out of the pen.

3 The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4 When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice. 5 But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognize a stranger’s voice. –John 10:3-5

For this method to work, the sheep have to be familiar with the shepherd’s voice. The shepherd is talking quite often, but the sheep need to be listening to the voice, tuning in and becoming familiar with the voice of the one they trust. We (Christ-followers), of course, are the sheep, and Christ is the Shepherd. He’s ever calling us, and is always aware of where we are, and the dangers we face, even if we’re oblivious to them.

Spending time in the Bible and in prayer, dwelling on the things of God, and avoiding things we know to be detrimental to our Christian walk are all ways we become more familiar with our Shepherd’s voice. He doesn’t shout; He calls. There are plenty of ways His voice can be drowned out, so we need to be listening for it.

Let’s be sure to pay attention to the Lord’s voice. His sheep are familiar with it, and will follow it even when things don’t quite make sense. Trusting the Shepherd enables us to simplify the conflicting things our own senses are telling us, and leads to the safety He’s got in mind.

The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters.

He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness for the sake of His name.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

-Psalm 23

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Time Waits for no Man…Unless That Man is Chuck Norris

I was a teenager when I took part in my first bible study focusing on the book of Revelation. I was excited about it; at that point I only had a no-frills bible that only included the scripture’s text, no notes to help understand context, no maps, none of that stuff that explains what gets lost in translation from the original Greek. If you’re a teenager, and you’re reading Revelation without the benefit of any of that additional context, you can easily be confused and even discouraged.

This was probably 30 years ago now, and the world has changed a lot since then. While sure, people were still mean and there were still bullies, the general hate and vitriol we’re accustomed to today wasn’t nearly as prevalent back then. “Right” and “wrong” were still largely universal, nobody argued over the difference between male and female, people were still generally respectful of their elders, and if you mouthed off at school, you either got suspended or expelled.

In Revelation chapter 11 we encounter some strange things. After the Rapture has occurred (when the Lord collects His still-living followers, prior to a period of chaos and disaster at the hands of the antichrist the world hasn’t seen before), God still gives everybody a chance. He still makes sure everybody who’s left has the opportunity to hear the truth and repent of their sins. The Lord places two invincible “witnesses” on the earth to testify for three and a half years. They speak the truth in a way that cannot be censored. Even when people try to physically harm, or even kill, these witnesses, their testimony won’t be stopped. In fact, people who try to harm the two witnesses are themselves killed (Revelation 11:5). Cancel culture has no effect on them, and it will drive people absolutely insane to hear the unadulterated truth they don’t want to acknowledge.

At the end of those three and a half years, the antichrist is permitted to put an end to the testimony by killing these two witnesses. As a teenager, I was floored by what came next. People are so relieved by the death of these two that not only do they disrespect the witnesses by refusing to bury them, but they also celebrate by giving gifts to one another to commemorate their deaths.

I couldn’t fathom such a thing. Maybe I just hadn’t been exposed to enough of the world’s troubles by that point, but aside from Adolf Hitler and some other dictators, it seemed like some impossibly dark future where people celebrate someone’s death because they disagreed with them.

Fast forward to today. Last week we lost an American legend, Chuck Norris. This guy was about as wholesome as you could get. I remember watching “Walker, Texas Ranger” often when I was younger, and I still find myself stopping and watching for a bit as I’m flipping through channels and come across an old episode. Yes, the plots and bad guys (including their mullets) were often cheesy, but good always triumphed over bad. Later, Chuck Norris was invited to be in the action movie “The Expendables 2,” and agreed to do so on one condition: that the vulgar dialogue be removed.

I realize and accept that the genre he’s known for isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I’m pretty irritated that people would celebrate his passing. That tells me quite a bit about their character. They seem to have lost respect for the value of human life.

That’s not the only example, though. Charlie Kirk’s passing last year was a more prominent example of the callous disrespect for human life people can hold. Opponents openly celebrated his death in ways I can’t understand. The fact that Kirk made a name for himself by promoting biblical beliefs makes it easier to relate to Revelation 11. Thirty years ago the End Times seemed distant; today at least some of those obstacles have fallen.

(To be fair, the disrespect for human life is not just on one side of the political spectrum. This week President Trump expressed his gladness for the fact that Robert Mueller, who had been in charge of investigating Trump, had passed. He didn’t say it with nearly the level of vitriol and hate that came from those celebrating Charlie Kirk’s death, but he holds a much higher position and platform. I can only imagine the crude things that will be said when President Trump eventually passes.)

I encourage you to keep reading more in Revelation. It turns out those two witnesses don’t stay dead for very long. The people of the earth gloat and celebrate for three and a half days over the death of their tormentors, only to be struck with terror as God raises them to life, and then ascend to Heaven in full view of everyone when God tells them “come up here.” Wow!

I don’t know that it was that particular night of the bible study, but I distinctly remember my youth leader saying something to the effect of “maybe not in my lifetime, but probably in yours,” the events of Revelation would come to pass. Based on how quickly things have gone downhill, it’s getting tough to argue.

Lord, I thank You for giving us the scriptures that help prepare us for the End Times, whether we live to see them or not. For those who will be alive to see it, I pray that you’d help them find their way to the truth, either through the pair of witnesses, biblical texts, the testimony of others, or through the unforeseen methods You excel at using. Prepare those people and help them withstand the incredibly tough times they’ll face, and may they seek You and cling to You in those difficult circumstances. These things I ask in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

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Let There be no Mistake: Wimbledon This is not

In high school I played a couple years of tennis. It was a spring sport, so right around this time of year, when it went back and forth between snow and hot weather, we’d have practice in preparation for our first match.

I played doubles, so the strategy was a little different than for singles. In singles you’re responsible for the whole kit and caboodle: everything that comes over the net is something you need to get back to your opponent. It’s a little different in doubles, and you have to work as a team. Figuring out the way you want to move around the court, who’s got the better serve or backhand, which of your opponents was the weaker player from the baseline, and seeing if you could lure the guy at the net close enough to the center of the court to get it past him down the alley were all parts of the strategy you’d look at developing.

Playing the net was my favorite part of doubles. Most of the time the two guys at the opposite baselines are slugging it out, but every now and then the guy on the other team would either flub the return or maybe underestimate the net guy’s reach, and allow the ball to get close enough for the net man to pounce on it and slam it back between the two opponents. Sometimes teams would get a little tricky and have the baseline and net guy switch sides of the court, which usually threw the other team off balance but also opened themselves up for an attack if they didn’t do it right.

Sometimes it would become painfully obvious that high school tennis players were not professionals. The net guy on one team would “intercept” the return and get it over the net, but the other net player would get to it fast enough to get it back over. The goal was for the net player to return the ball at a sharp enough angle that neither one of the other players could get to it in time.

I’m pretty tall, and I’ve got a pretty large wingspan. When I have a racket in my hand, my reach gets that much further. When I played at the net, I usually crouched and kept my arms tucked in, to try and mask my full reach. As the volleys continued, many times the opponents sort of got lulled into this sense that I wasn’t going to do anything unless the ball came very close to me. Once in awhile I’d even ignore a ball I may have been able to get to. They’d get less and less careful about keeping it away from me, and eventually I’d explode out of the crouch and either blast the ball somewhere onto their side or just barely tap it over the net to a spot they couldn’t reach fast enough.

That lurking, that patient waiting until just the right moment is a lot like one of the tactics our enemy uses. We, Christians, can get lazy or lose sight of the danger, and get lulled into a sense of complacency. We know we should stay away from the really bad stuff, but this smaller, less obvious version is probably okay, right?

It could be anything. Alcohol. Pornography. Racy novels. Gossip. Substance abuse. Gambling. Lying. “It’s not so bad,” we tell ourselves. There are no immediate repercussions. Then we wade a little deeper into whatever it is; we “allow the ball to get a little closer to the guy at the net.” We might even be a little excited about feeling like we’ve got things under control. Then one day, you suddenly and horribly realize you should have made different choices. That sudden realization can look very different depending on what kind of fire you’re playing with.

Then comes one of the enemy’s biggest and most effective tricks. Instead of coming clean and seeking help from someone you trust, he whispers in your ear “you’ll never recover from the shame if people find out. You’ll carry that stigma everywhere you go for the rest of your life. It’s better to just keep it hidden.”

Every one of those examples above are well-known problems among humanity. Admitting it to someone you can trust isn’t admitting you’re a failure, it’s admitting you’re human and you’re not perfect. Guess what? We already knew that. Sharing your struggle with someone and trying to get some help actually takes away most of the enemy’s power to bludgeon you with shame and regret. You have the choice of whether you want to remove a good portion of his power over you. Don’t pass up the opportunity to shed that fear and guilt. Christ didn’t die for you so you could live in shame. He died for you so you could experience the freedom of forgiveness, the wonder of His grace, and the joy of sharing this news with others.

Don’t let that amazing opportunity pass you by because you believe the lies whispered in your ear when you’re feeling vulnerable. There’s power in the name of Jesus, and He’s waiting for you to call on Him.

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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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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.