Choices Choices

September 8th, 2010

Pulling weeds the other day was a mess.   I’m not one of those people who weed and garden every week.  No, I’m more of a semiannual or annual person.  I like to give the weeds a fighting chance.  But…it was getting harder to find the sidewalk because of the overgrowth, and we were afraid search and rescue might be called because a small child wandered into what we call our “flower garden”.   So on a beautiful Saturday morning, I went out and did battle with the forces of darkness.  Giving the weeds 5 or 6 months to grow means they have a chance to get some decent roots.  Pulling them out means digging in the dirt, and getting to spend some quality time with its many offspring/shoots.  All you gardeners are out there shaking your head sadly.  You want to tell me that if I will pull weeds regularly, then they will just be little shoots that will come up quickly and easily.  By waiting as long as I do, I end up with Audrey II, the plant from Little Shop of Horrors. Perhaps you’re right. All I know is that committing an hour every Saturday morning to gardening, I risk giving up on watching all the amazing infomercials. How can I give up shows for things like the Autoflosser, which can floss your teeth and be used to get that grime out from between your toes (no additional attachments required), and the Remote Finder, a small electronic alarm which causes your TV or other remote to give off a 140dB alarm if it is not used for more than ten minutes?  Saturday morning TV also offers 28 different shows on how to become a millionaire through internet sales of 8 track tape collections. (Yes, one day this collection of ’70s garage bands from Sri Lanka will be worth more than the $55,000 I paid for it.)

So it comes down to the problem of choices.  Do I weed the garden, or enrich my understanding of all the worlds greatest inventions (available for only 23 easy monthly payments of $29.95 plus shipping, handling, and processing charges)?  It’s not an easy choice.  The infomercial tells me to call within the next ten minutes and I’ll get the free bonus gifts of a magic garlic grater and 10 acres on Pluto, for only the cost of additional postage, handling and processing.  I know that 10 acres on Pluto isn’t what it used to be since Pluto is no longer a planet, but it’s still a great deal!  So, if I’m weeding the garden, how will I know when the 10 minutes start?  And what about Sassy Lassy the new make up for dogs.  Our dog has more of a winter fur tone, and so far they’ve only offered make up for the Spring and Fall colored dogs.  There is so much to do, so much to worry about, so much that demands my attention.

King David, author of the Psalms, was in the midst of a great deal of conflict and trouble when God spoke to him.  God reminded him that He is the Lord, and in control of all things. Psalm 46 says, “ God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble… “Be still, and know that I am God;””  We live in a world of choices, and sometimes our choices can be overwhelming.  Do I do this or that?  Do I go here or there?  Along with all of our choices, there are so many different pressures to have us do one thing or another.  I can’t tell you to choose gardening over TV.  I can’t tell you whether to choose crinkle-cut fries or julienne-fries.  All I know is that when things seem to be too big, too troublesome, too hard.  I have a God is able to do far more than I need.  His grace extends farther than my sin.  His love reaches farther than my failures.  His peace covers father than my fears. His strength blankets my weaknesses.  I have a God who offers me His presence, but to first I have to quit my striving and sit still.  I have to give up trying to be in command. God wants to be my fortress…I just have to quit running away.  I have to let God be my God.  Well, the weeding is done for the rest of the year, but I’m not heading back to the infomercials.  I’m going to set a spell, and let the presence and power of God wash over me.  As for the paint-sprayer/pizza-oven/ and auto-vac in one?  Sorry, I’ll have to wait until you make it to the dollar store.

Chad

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Caller ID

September 2nd, 2010

At ten years old, my friends and I thought doing prank phone calls was about the worst thing a person could do.  Which is why we did them.  We were daring.  We were black-hearted.  We were Blackbeard the pirate, the desperado Jessie James, and Bonnie and Clyde, all rolled into one.  Yes, from the phone in friend Greg’s kitchen we would ask complete strangers, “Is your refrigerator running?”  After they answered, “Yes.”; we’d shout, “Well, you better go catch it!”   Then we’d hang up and laugh until our sides hurt.   Oh, yes, we were juvenile delinquents, living life on the razor’s edge.  In our felonious hearts we were a half step away from toilet papering the neighbors house, or sneaking into the other neighbor’s pool with our clothes on. You can tell we were bad to the bone.  Somehow by the grace of God, I was saved from my evil ways and saw the light of God’s love and grace.

I tried to call a church member yesterday, but they had changed their phone number and I had dialed the old number.  I received the answering machine of some folks I’d never heard of.   When the message on the machine told me it wasn’t who I was calling, I hung up.  Five hours later, I received a phone call.  “Hello, this is Wally Bygolly (not his real name), and I received a phone call from this number at 2:41 this afternoon.”  My reply was calm, intelligent and professional, “Huh?”  It turns out that my wrong number was Wally’s home, and my call recorded on Wally’s caller ID.  He was checking to see who was calling him.  As I contemplated this exchange I realized one dangerous temptation of youth has been eliminated.  We can no longer anonymously ask the convenience store worker if they have Prince Albert in a can.  Children are safer now. We can rest assured that the phone ringing in the distance is not a preteen waiting to ask you about the state of your appliances, but a tele-marketer wanting you to donate to the “Save the Common Garden Slug Foundation”.  For a small $2,500 donation you will be giving a slug a home, good food, and an education.  Won’t you adopt a slug today?”

Psalm 139 begins with the words, “1 O LORD, you have searched me and you know me.  2 You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.  3 You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.  4Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD.  5You hem me in—behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me.”  Despite my youthful wanderings, God loves me.  He knows me, who I am deep down.  There is something wonderful and disturbing about God knowing me that well.  There are times I wish I could shield my heart and my thoughts from Him.  There are times I wish I could hide.  There are other times I want to come to God like a child with a skinned knee goes to his mother.  I want to be known, loved, held.  There is rebellion that lies just beneath the surface of this heart of mine.  At times it bubbles up and shows the ugly side of who I am.  Despite it all, God reaches out.  He loves.  His grace flows.  He enters into this mess I call a life, and I know even without caller ID that God is with me.  He sustains me when I’m down.  He walks with me in the darkness.  He lifts me when I am flailing.  He is there by His Spirit.  And I know,  3 but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. (Isa 40:31)

Chad

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Using the Wrong Tool

August 25th, 2010

The speedometer of my scooter is broken.  I’m not exactly sure what happened. One day it was working, and the next day it wasn’t.  Using my brilliant mechanical skills, I stared intently at the front wheel assembly where I’m convinced the speedometer connection is.  Nothing happened.  It’s still broken.  I’ve continued to ride my scooter, using my tachometer and the speed of neighboring cars to tell me about what speed I’m going.  The only problem is I’m using the wrong tool for the wrong job.  We all do it, don’t we?  We’re too lazy to go get the screwdriver from the garage, so we pull out a kitchen knife to tighten or remove a screw.  Sometimes we end up twisting so hard, we cause damage to the end of the knife…Gee honey, it looks like the garbage disposal got another knife…**shake head sadly**.    We use any large heavy item we can find as a hammer… the heel of a shoe, the handle of a knife (the garbage disposal gets blamed again), a rock, a book, a bottle, the handset of a phone, and sometimes even our hands (although after the third or fourth time getting stitches we learn that’s not the best choice).  Instead of using a ladder we will stand precariously on an unstable chair, or climb on a table, or a stool, or one of our children.  We won’t reach across the kitchen for a pot holder, instead we will try a dish towel, or a wad of paper towels, or just bare hand it (what’s 375 degrees for 30 seconds?).  We grab an old stick instead of a paint stirrer, and wonder why there’re pieces of bark in the paint.  We don’t want to get a wash cloth to clean our child’s face, so we lick our fingers and smear the dirt around with a little saliva.  No napkin?  That’s what socks are for!

We all tend to do it at one time or another.  We expect something to do a job it wasn’t meant to do.  We can do it in our faith journey also.  We get busy with work, or play, or to-do lists, and we forget to spend any time in prayer or personal Bible study.  So we shoot a 5-second prayer up at heaven in between things, and we expect it to be good enough.  We are supposed to love and forgive others, but we figure as long as we can cut them out of our lives so we never have to deal with them again, we’re good to go.  We are supposed to share our faith, but we hope that living a “Christian life” will be sufficient for those heathens (I mean) neighbors near us to be convicted of their sin and seek God’s grace found in Jesus Christ.  We are supposed to help for the poor, so rather than throw away that swelling can of kippered herring in mustard, we take it to church for the food pantry and feel we’ve done our part for the suffering of the world.  Like Tiny Tim, we cry out, “God bless us, everyone!”

James 2:22 says But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves.  Jesus told us that following and living His teachings was like building our house with a solid foundation rather than a weak one.  I don’t think we will ever stop trying to take shortcuts when it comes to the mundane parts of our lives.  Knives will always double as screwdrivers, and dish towels as hot pads, but shouldn’t we give God more than the least we can do?  Let us choose to live our faith in word and deed.  Do me a favor though; don’t explain to Cindy how the BBQ stain got on my socks.  Thanks!

Chad

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Stain Remover

August 18th, 2010

I have a physical grace and dexterity quite unlike any people I know.  I can trip over things that can only be seen through an electron microscope.  The rotation of the earth causes me to lose my balance.  Gravitational pull from the moon and other celestial bodies sometimes cause my arms and legs to move in surprising ways.  My handwriting is decipherable only by well versed in hieroglyphics.  I’m not saying I’m a klutz but, I’m one of those people who can throw themselves on the floor…and miss.  There are times I think I should wear safety goggles when I scratch my nose….just in case.  Because of this amazing nimbleness, it is easy to tell what I have eaten that day by simply looking at what’s on my shirt.  My favorite foods can be discerned by the stains in the carpeting where I usually sit.  I can get grass stains on my pants without ever going near grass.  I am a walking mess.

Thankfully, there are soaps, cleansers and stain removers.  In spite of my getting ketchup on nearly every piece of clothing I own, the stains have been removed.  Thanks to hard and diligent work by my wife, I don’t have a collection of random discolorations on my favorite clothes.  She and modern chemistry have helped me look good, even after I drop that chocolate fudge ice cream on my white cotton shirt.  Ahh, the joys of modern living!  I have to confess my legendary agility is not the only cause of staining.  I tend to get my soul stained on a regular basis as well.  You see, I get impatient, irritated, and irascible (I’ve always wanted to use that word).  I fuss and fume over meaningless stuff.  I think way more highly of myself than I ought.  There are times I don’t love God with all that I am.  I don’t keep God first in my life….sometimes I think He’s not even in the top ten.  I am a poser…a fraud…an imposter.  I am a sinner.  But thankfully God has an answer to pitiful people like me.  It’s called grace.  We call it amazing grace sometimes.  It works better at removing the stains and signs of failure than any other cleaner out there.  In spite of who I am and how I am, God has chosen to love me (go figure).  He has chosen to grant me not only mercy…but grace.  When Jesus died on the cross, my sins, errors, mistakes, transgressions, and failures were paid for.  The stains of life were washed away.  Isaiah puts it this way, Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. (1:18)

As for my dexterity, I’m still a danger to any fabric that comes within 20 feet of me.  I still stumble and fall.  I still should use the butter knife rather than a steak knife, for the safety of everyone at the table.  But my internal stains and failures, though many and varied, are washed away.  I stand before you a klutz of epic proportions…but forgiven and redeemed by the grace of God.

Chad

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Choosing.

July 29th, 2010

I confess that I like to read about and watch TV shows that talk about stupid criminals.  There is the guy that tried to break into a home near Christmas by attempting to slide down an old chimney, only to get stuck halfway down.  Another guy tried to rob a convenience store with a squirt gun, the owner had a real gun.  And it’s always fun to watch what happens to people who try to steal an ATM machine (usually the attempt to remove it from its concrete base results in the “pulling” vehicle losing its rear bumper or even back axle).  There are books out about how stupid people can be.  The Darwin Awards has the stories of people who do the most foolish things and frequently end up paying for it with their lives.  For me the most memorable story from the books is about the man that “super-glued” his hands to the back end of a rhinoceros at the zoo.  You have to ask…What was he thinking?!  I’m reminded of the joke “What was the redneck’s last words?”  “Hey, ya’ll watch this.”  We laugh, but are we really that far behind these folks?  There’s a reason why the warning says to never lick a moving blender.  Nearly every day we pilot 1,500 pounds of steel at breakneck speeds, often going within a few feet of others doing the same thing.  That’s right, we drive cars… and in the midst of our piloting these vehicles at 102 ft per second (70 mph), we also look down to change the radio station, to read a newspaper, unwrap our sausage biscuit,  send a text, and clean up the coffee we spilled.  If it takes you 3 seconds to grab that hash brown from the bag…you’ve traveled over a football field without looking at the road.  Eating your Chinese carry-out with chopsticks….probably not the best choice (ahem!),

We are a busy people, and we like to multi-task.  We talk on the phone and try to read our email at the same time.  We try to cook, and watch the news, and ask our kids how the day was.  We are a busy people and it causes us to make bad choices, or make compromises.  We know what fried food will do to us…but it is still American’s favorite meal.  Hamburgers, fries, fried chicken, fried fish, fried Oreos, funnel cake, fried candy bars (can you tell the State Fair is coming?).   We know we need balance in our lives – work, play, worship, family, friends – they all need a place in our lives.  We know what is good, but we are easily distracted.  We chase after the wrong things.  Micah 6:8 helps put things in perspective: He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.  So maybe we should take a lesson from the folks who get trapped in chimneys and glue themselves to rhinoceroses, let’s choose to do what is right.

Chad

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The Power of the Blog

July 22nd, 2010

I’m ruined.  I’ve always believed that only 6 or 7 people read this blog, all of them members of the church.  This bit of information was very comforting.  After all, I know they are already Christians, that they already attend FV Presbyterian, and that any heresy I might actually say here can be quickly dealt with by Cindy.  Blogging was fun, carefree, mindless drivel…..but then it happened.  We had a couple visit the church, and they said the blog is the reason they came. (Insert blood curdling scream here).  Ollie and Wanda (not their real names) said that they were trying to decide on where to go to church when he came upon my blog.  Ollie (still not his real name) said after reading a few posts he decided to come visit our church.  OK….this is very unsettling.  I have come to the frightening realization that there may be strangers reading these demented ravings.  This has placed an unbearable weight upon me.  Does this mean I have to be pastoral, caring, relevant, and theologically orthodox?  Should I be checking my spelling and punctuation?  Ahhh, the pressure!  The simple carefree decision by Ollie and Wanda to visit FV Presbyterian Church has placed an Atlas sized burden upon me.  What I write here matters.  Who knows….my words could affect the eternal destination of millions.  World peace could hang in the balance as to whether the dictator of a certain Asian country likes my posting.  My deeply insightful writings may be holding off an alien attack!  Alas, with great power, comes great responsibility.  It occurred to me that the economic crisis our world is facing could be my fault!  But then I remembered I started this blog after the economy collapsed. Whew…dodged that bullet.  I’d prefer not to talk about my writings affect on the recovery or a certain oil spill – thank you very much!
Over the past several months there have been a surprising number of “hits” to the blog.  To me, they obviously were bots and spammers.  Responses to the blog have overwhelmingly been spam.  Thank you, I don’t need to buy any more whale blubber.  While deleting most, I posted a couple in the comment section so I could pretend someone was reading and responding to my answer to the reader’s insomnia.  But deep inside I knew that “buypocketprotectors.com” was not a real person.  Well, folks, I can pretend no more.  Real people read this blog….real people with real thoughts…and well, ummm, real people.  I’ve got to take this blogging much more seriously.  I can’t take for granted the impact I am making on the world.  Ollie and Wanda, thank you for helping me see the light!  I will take my efforts much more seriously.  OK, I lied.  I can’t take it more seriously.  I have no deep thoughts to share.  I have no great insights.  We are in serious trouble if anyone is counting on me to help with world peace or alien attacks.  No, I’m still struggling to figure out which sock goes on my right foot and which one goes on my left, how to play a kazoo, and how to “tie” my Velcro laced shoes.  I am delighted that Ollie and Wanda came to church and I pray it was a blessing to them, but if it was the blog that motivated them, it could be argued they are in serious need of prayer.
The Apostle Paul was encouraging the Colossian Church to faithful living when he wrote, “And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” (3:17)  We are called to give our very best in everything we do.  Whether it is at work, or home, or church, we should be doing it as if we were doing it for Jesus.  When we blog, we should blog for Jesus.  When we sing, we should sing for Jesus.  When we mow our lawns, we should mow for Jesus.  When we talk to our friends, we should talk with the heart of Jesus.  I am thankful that in the midst of it all, God doesn’t ask about our ability, only our willingness to do it for Him.  I’ve decided that whether it’s  6 or 7 who read this blog, or even 10 or 12….I’ll write my blog in the name of Jesus, giving thanks.
Chad

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Road Construction

July 20th, 2010

My house is shaking. The glasses in the cabinet are clinking together. The windows are rattling. My internal organs are vibrating. The tremors last from 7 a.m. until 6 p.m. It’s not an earthquake, it’s road construction. For the last several months they have been putting in an extension to Judd Parkway. Construction vehicles large enough to move the entire island of Manhattan have been rumbling along my property line. Today the steam roller (I’m sure there’s a newer name for it since it hasn’t used steam since Abe Lincoln was president – wikipedia refers to them as “road rollers” – pfft, yeah right) was going back and forth making sure the road base was significantly compacted all the way to the earth’s core. The planned date for opening the road will be Christmas, at least that was the original date set. This road will be great help to everyone who wants to bypass the bottleneck in “downtown Varina”, but I guess I’m selfish in wishing I had the pine forest back. All I know is eleven hours a day, if I’m home, I get to watch things fall off shelves, pictures swing on their hooks, and cracks in the wall reenacting the seismic activity of the great San Francisco earthquake of 1906.
It’s only a few months until the construction ends, and the road becomes open to traffic. At least the dust will finally settle down. It’s hard to make supper on the grill when a half inch of dirt collects on it by the time it’s cooked. Soon we will trade in the low resonant shaking from giant construction equipment for the thrum, thrum, thrum of cars with their stereos cranked up; the whine of Japanese motorcycles accompanied by the brop, brop, brop of Harleys; and the shrill sound of over-revved engines driven by guys who think their ‘94 Pinto is a “tuner car”. Such is the price of progress. Everyone wants something good and convenient, as long as it’s not built in their back yard. This time it’s my backyard! I’m trying to think of someway to take advantage of this road….to turn a bad into a good. I’ve considered adding two more stories to my home, just so I can paint a billboard-like advertisement for the church on the house. So far that hasn’t been enthusiastically embraced by Cindy. I gave up on the idea of trying to set up a toll booth to make a little money out of this mess; the construction workers have ignored my cardboard signs that say “Stop Pay $2 Toll Ahead”. I considered paintball “target practice” once the road opens up, but only the local preteen boys are supportive of that idea. So I guess Judd Parkway is just something I’m going to have to live with.
Psalm 1 begins, “Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. 2 But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night. 3 He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers.” My desire is to be a man who meditates on God’s Word. But I am easily distracted. Rattling windows, phones ringing, my stomach growling, a fly buzzing, the dog snoring…..they all pull me away from what is important. God’s Word offers strength and peace, counsel and wisdom, hope and blessing. So I seek guidance from the scriptures, and God helps me to find blessings and joy. I have noticed something good about all this construction; the shaking of the house makes my recliner feel like those old vibrating beds from the 60s. I get a blast from the past and it doesn’t even cost a quarter.
Chad

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The Metal Monster in the Corner wants to change me.

July 7th, 2010

I have a rather large piece of exercise equipment here in our family/bonus room.  It offers the ability to do about 7,000 different exercises.  Regular use of this monster and a proper diet should put me in the physical shape of a Greek god.  There’s only one problem…..OK… two problems.   I need to eat a proper diet, and I actually have to use the machine.  We’ve had the machine for several years.  For a while, its lack of use was causing it to collect not just dust bunnies, but dust mammoths.  Now, it gets cleaned off more often, but it still doesn’t get used.  Cindy suggests we give it away to some other deserving person who can put it in their corner and ignore it.  But I won’t let her do it.  Having it there makes me think that my getting healthy is just around the corner.  I’ve convinced myself that all I need is one small nudge and I’ll be pumping iron.  That’s right… just a baby step away is the body of Conan the Barbarian.  Why just even thinking about it, makes my biceps swell.  Please ladies, get control of yourselves.  Alas, I haven’t found the required nudge to get me off my couch, and on the workout bench.  I’ve convinced myself that I’m too busy exercising my mouse-clicking finger to do a little bend and stretch.  It’s too easy for me to put off ‘til tomorrow what should have been done last decade.  Besides, I have to climb the steps to the second floor just to get here….isn’t that enough punishment for one day???

The metal behemoth in the corner reminds me of other good intentions I have.  If I did half of what I intended to do, I’d be an impressive person.  Why, I’d probably get nominated for a Nobel prize.  Imagine it….I’d brush and floss! My grass would be green and my flowers would grow!  I’d be able to complete a sudoku puzzle!  I’d would write sermons that would keep people awake!  I’d learn how to fold a fitted sheet so it comes out looking square!  My prayer life would be legendary!  I’d actually make it all the way through a book longer than Green Eggs and Ham!  And my “to do list” would actually get thinner than the “yellow pages”!

For some folks there is a rather large book that is collecting dust somewhere in their house.  Just like my exercise machine, it sits there calling to be used, to change your life.  But it gets ignored.  Maybe tomorrow, I’m too busy watching reruns of Mork and Mindy.  II Timothy 3 says, “16All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, 17so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.”  The Bible is a life changing book.  It offers us a greater understanding of who we are as God’s people, and who God is.  It’s time to dig it out from the bottom shelf of the night stand and put it to use.  It’s time to discover what God’s Word has to say to you.

Chad

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Age Spots and a Blue Mohawk

June 29th, 2010

As a person ages, some of us will start to get what looks like big freckles on our skin.  My doctor attempting to comfort me told me when I discovered these spots on my skin said it wasn’t anything unusual, they were simply age spots – a sign of growing older.  Gee, thanks doc.  Perhaps you like to remind me that my brain is deteriorating to gelatinous goo as well.  So signs of getting old(er) are creeping up on me….I can live with that…I think.  There’s an old bumper sticker that used to ask the question, “Why be normal?”  I think that question resonates with my family.  We seem to take a different view the world.  In fact there are times we choose to do things (my son in particular) based on the phrase “Do it for the story.”  So far our activities and exploits have kept us off the TV show America’s Dumbest Family, but just barely. 

My son has determined his father will not slip into a quiet, comfortable, sedate, existence.  For Father’s day this year I received a scalp treatment ointment which was supposed to make my bald head (a.k.a. my solar panel)  sprout lush, thick, hair.  After putting on this so called cure for baldness – which has a strong smell of cloves, thus making me crave ham for a week – I found that the top of my head is still vacant of any signs of life.  My son was concerned that the scalp balm would turn out to be a bomb, so he thoughtfully had a backup.   A few days after Father’s Day, part two of my gift arrived.   It was blue mohawk.  That’s right….a 9 inch strip of blue synthetic hair that stands 4 inches high straight up with 4 suction cups to help it attach to wherever you are putting it.  At first I was concerned what the congregation might think if I showed up on Sunday morning sporting this new “do”.  Let’s face it some of those folks think not wearing a tie to church could put your soul in danger of the fires of hell, how would they respond to a mohawk, and a blue one at that?  I’m convinced church services would begin with fainting, screaming, and a few suggestions that an exorcism would be appropriate.  As a minister I really want to connect with all the members of my congregation.  I think a mohawk just might be the thing to engage the under 20 crowd.  After all, none of my social media seem to work.  I have a twitter account, but no one reads my twits.  If I ever make a comment on someone’s “wall”, I find I am quickly un-friended.  It was right after I created the church’s FaceBook page that FB chose to change from being “fans” of, to “liking” pages and groups.  Coincidence…..I think not.  Well, I’m not giving up.  I’ve discovered that my blue mohawk is not designed to go directly on my scalp, but on my scooter helmet…..which explains the “stays secure up to 200 mph”.  I was really wondering just how many people were worried their mohawk might blow off in the middle of a hurricane.  “There goes the house and the car…Oh no!  But at least my mohawk is on securely!” 

Now that I have the appropriate information, I’ve attached the mohawk my helmet.  And I get the strangest stares as I drive through town.  People who used to smile and wave now point and stare.  Only a couple people have been so intrigued by my look that they drove off the road while gawking.  But mostly I just get very questioning looks.  Who is that man with the age spots and why does he have a blue mohawk?

I Peter 2 says But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that you should sow forth the praises of him who has called you out of darkness into his marvelous light…  I have always thought it was interesting that we are called a “peculiar people”.  As followers of Jesus Christ, we are not just one of the crowd.  We are different.  We see the world differently.  We have a different set of priorities.  Our highest calling is to follow Jesus Christ, not an athlete, rock star, or politician.  Our treasures are not found in stock portfolios or safe deposit boxes, but in heaven.  We don’t follow the world’s ways.  We aren’t normal.  We are called to something greater, because we are a part of something greater.  We are chosen, royal, holy.  We are God’s people called to show forth His praises.  So if you see a blue mohawk out there, remember, I’m not just weird guy rebelling against aging.  I am just living out the Word of God and being a peculiar person.

Chad

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Looking for more treasures

June 15th, 2010

Many of you know I am a craigslist addict.  I haunt the site looking for things I can’t live without, but didn’t know it.  Through craigslist I’ve gotten huge cardboard tubes I’ve used as roman columns for Vacation Bible School; furniture for my son when he was moving into an apartment for college; a car; and a myriad of other treasures.  Craigslist reminds me of the old Sears Wishbook.  Some of you will remember what I am talking about.  Sears used to create huge pictorial catalogues of things they had for sale.  A month or two before Christmas Sears would print the “Wishbook” version of the catalogue, which had about 4 million pages of toys.  As I child I would go through the pages of the catalogue and drool over all the beautiful toys.  There was the Lil Indian minibike which nearly every red blooded American male wanted, but which few of us had a place to ride, and even fewer would ever get to see one in real life.  There were the Daisy BB guns, and the fancy erector sets which made my heart skip a beat.  Nearly every page of the toy section offered treasures to set a boy’s heart trembling.  Well, the days of the Wishbook are gone.  My “toys” have gotten substantially more expensive.  And I find I’ve traded my childhood minibike dreams for a midlife crisis scooter.  Now I look at the free section of craigslist hoping to find some treasure which will be just the thing I need, something that will be another piece of treasured clutter in an already overcrowded life.

The sad truth is, I am a bit greedy.  I like possessing stuff.  I may not need it, or even know how to use it, but if it’s free on craigslist there’s a chance I’ll call to see if it’s available.  Llama laryngoscope?  Sure, I could use one of them.  Geiger counter?  Who doesn’t want one?  Spent rods of radio active materials from the local nuclear power plant?  Hmm, I think I have a spot for one or two of those (although I’ve never seen them on craigslist).  Springs from a jackhammer?  Perhaps they’ll work on a custom made pogo stick I’ll never build.  Gold-plated buffalo dung?  What a keepsake, is it still available?!

I’m a bit of a collector, but I’m getting better.  I still lurk on craigslist, now and then.  But I don’t try to get anything and everything that’s out there.  When we are in the greed mindset, we won’t be happy until we have just a little bit more.  Things don’t bring joy or contentment.  Collections don’t offer fulfillment or peace of mind.  A camel saddle, rope and bridle don’t make for a fuller life, just a fuller garage.  In John 10 Jesus says, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”   Life and happiness aren’t about getting the most toys or lusting after unreachable treasures in the Wishbook.  Life is about knowing Jesus Christ.  It is in knowing Jesus that we discover the real meaning of life.  It is in knowing His love that we discover what love truly is.  Life and fulfillment are found in knowing it’s not about us…but about Jesus and what He has done for us.  It’s about being who God made us to be.  Joy is found in Jesus.

Chad

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