"Why oh why, rebellious sheep, do you turn away from me? Why are you dismayed? You see me moving among the ewes and lambs. Among your siblings you see me walking, giving them pastures, watching for predators, healing their wounds and saving them. But you don't notice my hand tenderly petting your head. You don't see my delight in you. You have grown and your eyes are bright. Your belly is full because of my gentle care.
"Listen to your brothers and give heed to the voice of your sisters. They see my hand on your head and detect my pride. They remember my delight when I chose you from the wicked sheep herder who cared not for his flock. They remember your small frame. Let them recount my labor as I nursed you to health. Hear their tales of my rod, deftly flung and striking the wolf who was poised to pounce on you. Oh weak, struggling creature! Always a prey for the claws of the bear and teeth of the lion.
"Hear their words and see my love. Whom do you suppose poured oil on your head to save you from the flies? Do you believe your own senses led you to clean brooks for drink? When you became fat and were helplessly cast on your back, your hind legs scraping the air and finding no tread, who picked you up? And, when the others passed under my rod while I carefully counted and I found you missing, who searched frantically for you; my brow creased in anguish until I saw you in the distance. Straying further and eating all the more you were oblivious to the danger. Whom do you suppose picked you up and returned you to the fold?
"One day, maybe soon, you will hear of me from the others. One day you will suddenly feel my hand caressing your mane. 'What is that sensation?' you will wonder. Then you will look up, your eyes will meet mine. You will know that I have loved you with an everlasting love. Your heart will break with joy and you will never leave my side."
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Radio Flyers, Dogs, and Pack Mules
Trudie and I went for a walk when I got home from work this evening. It seemed like it was 100 degrees but she was excited when I said "walk". Mostly I spell the word "walk" around her. (Dog owners will understand this.)
I used to think summer in Alabama was the hottest and most humid place in the world. Indeed it may be the the hottest and most humid place in the United States. I've lived in Florida and Alabama is hotter. In Florida you can sweat with anticipation. There's always a beach nearby somewhere. Not so in Alabama. But Hanoi is like summer in Alabama times 3. I was there in June. My buddy Chad and I drank iced coffee almost every day in a little roadside shop (they're all roadside shops on the streets of Hanoi) and we were dripping. I've heard people talk about Venezuela and parts of Mexico and how they shower and leave the hotel and they're sweating before they walk 25 feet. It's like that in Vietnam. You never feel, let's see.... how can I put this.... fresh. You never feel fresh and clean.
So I'm walking along tonight and I see a young dad from my neighborhood pulling his son in a little Radio Flyer wagon. I haven't seen one of those in years. The picture would've been Norman Rockwellian if it hadn't been for the cell phone. I know you've seen it. Mom pushing a stroller or dad in the yard with the kids and all the while they're on a telephone call. This cannot count for quality time. I mean, it's probably like negative quality time. For every 1/2 hour you spend with the kids on a cell phone you have to make it up double. Only for that make up hour you must give your children 100% of your undivided attention. No cell, no smart phone downloading email and no texting. It crossed my mind that in this case dad could have just hooked up a pack mule or an obedient dog to the wagon and accomplished the same result. Oh.... except dad wouldn't have gotten his exercise. Maybe he was really out there for exercise.
Perhaps I'm being a little harsh. I looked at the kid. He was playing with something in the wagon. He was otherwise occupied. He was probably only 2 years old and I wondered if he knew Dad was otherwise occupied. I wonder if he thought it'd be cool to have a mule or a dog pulling his little wagon.
Trudie and I walked our normal route. It's neat how a dog knows when to turn. They are truly creatures of habit. We turned on 43rd Street and walked up to 7th Avenue. Another left and there's dad and son again. He's still on the telephone. This time I hollered to him, "Dude, that's your son in the wagon and he's going to remember how you didn't pay any attention to him! How you couldn't finish work long enough to pull his Radio Flyer and talk with him about his day. He may have seen monsters in his closet and under his bed and you don't even know it! He may want to share his amazement with you about a caterpillar or a bird he saw singing outside his window. Hang up the phone neighbor! You're missing it."
Except I didn't really say that. I walked on and waved at them thinking about wagons, dogs and pack mules.
I used to think summer in Alabama was the hottest and most humid place in the world. Indeed it may be the the hottest and most humid place in the United States. I've lived in Florida and Alabama is hotter. In Florida you can sweat with anticipation. There's always a beach nearby somewhere. Not so in Alabama. But Hanoi is like summer in Alabama times 3. I was there in June. My buddy Chad and I drank iced coffee almost every day in a little roadside shop (they're all roadside shops on the streets of Hanoi) and we were dripping. I've heard people talk about Venezuela and parts of Mexico and how they shower and leave the hotel and they're sweating before they walk 25 feet. It's like that in Vietnam. You never feel, let's see.... how can I put this.... fresh. You never feel fresh and clean.
So I'm walking along tonight and I see a young dad from my neighborhood pulling his son in a little Radio Flyer wagon. I haven't seen one of those in years. The picture would've been Norman Rockwellian if it hadn't been for the cell phone. I know you've seen it. Mom pushing a stroller or dad in the yard with the kids and all the while they're on a telephone call. This cannot count for quality time. I mean, it's probably like negative quality time. For every 1/2 hour you spend with the kids on a cell phone you have to make it up double. Only for that make up hour you must give your children 100% of your undivided attention. No cell, no smart phone downloading email and no texting. It crossed my mind that in this case dad could have just hooked up a pack mule or an obedient dog to the wagon and accomplished the same result. Oh.... except dad wouldn't have gotten his exercise. Maybe he was really out there for exercise.
Perhaps I'm being a little harsh. I looked at the kid. He was playing with something in the wagon. He was otherwise occupied. He was probably only 2 years old and I wondered if he knew Dad was otherwise occupied. I wonder if he thought it'd be cool to have a mule or a dog pulling his little wagon.
Trudie and I walked our normal route. It's neat how a dog knows when to turn. They are truly creatures of habit. We turned on 43rd Street and walked up to 7th Avenue. Another left and there's dad and son again. He's still on the telephone. This time I hollered to him, "Dude, that's your son in the wagon and he's going to remember how you didn't pay any attention to him! How you couldn't finish work long enough to pull his Radio Flyer and talk with him about his day. He may have seen monsters in his closet and under his bed and you don't even know it! He may want to share his amazement with you about a caterpillar or a bird he saw singing outside his window. Hang up the phone neighbor! You're missing it."
Except I didn't really say that. I walked on and waved at them thinking about wagons, dogs and pack mules.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Sweet Discipline
God disciplined Moses. It was hard. Moses pleaded with God in Deuteronomy 3:25, "Please let me go over and see the good land." After all it had been a tough road to travel. For all their time together the children of Israel turned away from God at the drop of a hat and it seemed Moses was always interceding. Moses had just declared to God, "You have only begun to show your servant your greatness and Your mighty hand." I picture a child imploring with all persistence, "Please Father, please!"
How does God respond? "Enough from you; do not speak to me of this matter again." Wow.... what are we to make of that? I've seen God as harsh in this text before. I mean really, all Moses did was strike the rock instead of speaking to it (Numbers 20:10-12). He had just recently lost his sister too. Cannot a little latitude be given to a grieving brother? But now I strangely see an intimacy in God's words here. Like a parent who needs to be a little stern, "enough about this now.... I don't want to hear any more about it." As if to say, "I know what is best, you don't."
We don't always get what we want.
Fast forward to the end of Deuteronomy. God again reminds Moses what his sin cost him (Deuteronomy 32:48-52). Moses gives Israel their final blessing and Moses climbs Mount Nebo to die. God tells him to climb the mountain and look across at the land and then die up on the mountain.
Now picture Moses in chapter 34. He's up on the mountain, alone there with God. They had spent so many glorious days together; at the giving of the law on Mt. Sinai, all those times in the tent of meeting, even at the burning bush where Moses first met YHWH. Now again he's on top of a mountain alone with his Father. Maybe God was smiling as He and Moses looked out across the land. Maybe they were both smiling when child and Father surveyed the green valleys, the shimmering brooks and the mountaintops in the distance. Maybe God parted the mist with His hand for a moment and said with pride, "Moses, this is the land of which I swore to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, 'I will give to your offspring.' "
"Now Moses, lay down over here by this tree in the shade and die. Lay down and be gathered to your people." Maybe God softly spoke while Moses drifted off to sleep. Maybe He said something like this....
"Moses, you will see greater things than real estate. You will again stand on a mountain. You will see Me, like you always wanted to, but you will see God in flesh. You will see my very son Moses! You will look into his human eyes, and see his face. You will stand on that mountain with another prophet, another one who faithfully spoke my words to an obstinate people. You both will stand there looking at My son and you will talk to him. His face is going to shine like the sun and his clothes will become white as the light. You will remember the glow you yourself experienced Moses. You will recall how your countenance changed. It was so bright the children of Israel couldn't look at you."
"But this will be more... so much more. This will be my lamb Moses. My spotless one. My only son. One upon whom I will pour unspeakable horror. He will buy the people Moses! He will redeem for me a people from every tribe, every tongue, every nation. Their hearts will finally be circumcised Moses. I will pour My Spirit into them and they will love me. They will love My son and walk in my ways because I will pour My Spirit into them and cause them to be born anew."
"Yes Moses, I do know what is best. You do not understand all these things now my child. Go ahead and look at this land but don't be sad or dismayed. You will indeed see it again on that day. Sleep now.... sleep."
How does God respond? "Enough from you; do not speak to me of this matter again." Wow.... what are we to make of that? I've seen God as harsh in this text before. I mean really, all Moses did was strike the rock instead of speaking to it (Numbers 20:10-12). He had just recently lost his sister too. Cannot a little latitude be given to a grieving brother? But now I strangely see an intimacy in God's words here. Like a parent who needs to be a little stern, "enough about this now.... I don't want to hear any more about it." As if to say, "I know what is best, you don't."
We don't always get what we want.
Fast forward to the end of Deuteronomy. God again reminds Moses what his sin cost him (Deuteronomy 32:48-52). Moses gives Israel their final blessing and Moses climbs Mount Nebo to die. God tells him to climb the mountain and look across at the land and then die up on the mountain.
Now picture Moses in chapter 34. He's up on the mountain, alone there with God. They had spent so many glorious days together; at the giving of the law on Mt. Sinai, all those times in the tent of meeting, even at the burning bush where Moses first met YHWH. Now again he's on top of a mountain alone with his Father. Maybe God was smiling as He and Moses looked out across the land. Maybe they were both smiling when child and Father surveyed the green valleys, the shimmering brooks and the mountaintops in the distance. Maybe God parted the mist with His hand for a moment and said with pride, "Moses, this is the land of which I swore to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, 'I will give to your offspring.' "
"Now Moses, lay down over here by this tree in the shade and die. Lay down and be gathered to your people." Maybe God softly spoke while Moses drifted off to sleep. Maybe He said something like this....
"Moses, you will see greater things than real estate. You will again stand on a mountain. You will see Me, like you always wanted to, but you will see God in flesh. You will see my very son Moses! You will look into his human eyes, and see his face. You will stand on that mountain with another prophet, another one who faithfully spoke my words to an obstinate people. You both will stand there looking at My son and you will talk to him. His face is going to shine like the sun and his clothes will become white as the light. You will remember the glow you yourself experienced Moses. You will recall how your countenance changed. It was so bright the children of Israel couldn't look at you."
"But this will be more... so much more. This will be my lamb Moses. My spotless one. My only son. One upon whom I will pour unspeakable horror. He will buy the people Moses! He will redeem for me a people from every tribe, every tongue, every nation. Their hearts will finally be circumcised Moses. I will pour My Spirit into them and they will love me. They will love My son and walk in my ways because I will pour My Spirit into them and cause them to be born anew."
"Yes Moses, I do know what is best. You do not understand all these things now my child. Go ahead and look at this land but don't be sad or dismayed. You will indeed see it again on that day. Sleep now.... sleep."
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Dogs
Who can make a dog? Really, aren't they the most awesome creatures? Think about it. There are all kinds of animals that serve a purpose in the grand design of life but what about the dear old dog? A dog isn't vital to the food chain (well, at least not in most countries), he doesn't build anything or dam up a river or catch small rodents for the most part. My terrier Trudie caught a squirrel once but I think the squirrel was on his cell phone texting or otherwise distracted because that just doesn't happen as a rule. Most dogs I know of have no purposeful daily function. They're like really great little kids that don't talk, misbehave only occasionally and are hairy.
Not too long ago I used to consider my beloved aunt and uncle and think them a little misguided. Their children were grown and they had these two dogs and a home and this huge bus in which they would travel the country. They treated their little dachshunds as if they were children. They verbally expressed their love to the dogs in embarrassingly ridiculous language. One of their beloved weenie dogs was somehow injured, paralyzed I think, and they had an intricate little wheelchair-like cart for him. They would harness him into this when they took him for a walk. It was like a little doggie rickshaw but instead of carrying paying customers it carried his hind quarters. I remember squelching laughter the first time I saw this. Are you serious? It's a dog for crying out loud.
Then I married into a dog family. I came from cats. Mom always had cats and they were kind of cool. They were aloof and complex. They didn't really require much attention and always seemed to be up to something sinister. I liked to bother them until they flipped on their backs and did that hind leg kick-scratching thing. I always came away a little bloody but that didn't stop me from doing it. A little masochistic now that I think about it.
But then I married into dogs. Immediately I spotted that same devoted parental behaviour I saw in my aunt and uncle. One time my mother-in-law's dachshund (oddly enough another weenie dog) wandered off and there was full scale panic until she returned home. Another time my wife's schnauzer developed what turned out to be a harmless fatty tumor and it brought her to tears. What's up? I remember thinking. It's a dog for crying out loud.
The trick is you can't look into their eyes. Once you start looking, really looking deep into their eyes, you're hooked. My wife had Mattie the schnauzer a couple years before I came into the picture. I remember petting the dog one time and she looked up at me with those big brown eyes that said, "I tolerated you for awhile but now that I see you're going to hang around I guess I'll let you love me". Before she looked away I was hooked.
Now I live alone again.... except for Trudie. I really hope I'm not weird. I hope I don't dote on her like my aunt and uncle did their dogs but I'm afraid I do. I know she's just a dog and I don't ever want to become one of those mentally unbalanced souls that can't relate to humans because they shower all of their waking attention and affection on an animal. I don't want to cross that line. What amazes me and fills me with inspiration though is a Creator who can fashion a creature whose sole purpose seems to be to make me happy. I've never seen such excitement register in such a little hairy body as Trudie's when I come home from work! She is devoted to me completely. She may not be able to kick-scratch but she lives to fetch and play Frisbee! When I lay back in my recliner and she cuddles up in my lap I drift off to sleep and all is right with the world.
Just don't look long into their eyes. You will be hooked.
Not too long ago I used to consider my beloved aunt and uncle and think them a little misguided. Their children were grown and they had these two dogs and a home and this huge bus in which they would travel the country. They treated their little dachshunds as if they were children. They verbally expressed their love to the dogs in embarrassingly ridiculous language. One of their beloved weenie dogs was somehow injured, paralyzed I think, and they had an intricate little wheelchair-like cart for him. They would harness him into this when they took him for a walk. It was like a little doggie rickshaw but instead of carrying paying customers it carried his hind quarters. I remember squelching laughter the first time I saw this. Are you serious? It's a dog for crying out loud.
Then I married into a dog family. I came from cats. Mom always had cats and they were kind of cool. They were aloof and complex. They didn't really require much attention and always seemed to be up to something sinister. I liked to bother them until they flipped on their backs and did that hind leg kick-scratching thing. I always came away a little bloody but that didn't stop me from doing it. A little masochistic now that I think about it.
But then I married into dogs. Immediately I spotted that same devoted parental behaviour I saw in my aunt and uncle. One time my mother-in-law's dachshund (oddly enough another weenie dog) wandered off and there was full scale panic until she returned home. Another time my wife's schnauzer developed what turned out to be a harmless fatty tumor and it brought her to tears. What's up? I remember thinking. It's a dog for crying out loud.
The trick is you can't look into their eyes. Once you start looking, really looking deep into their eyes, you're hooked. My wife had Mattie the schnauzer a couple years before I came into the picture. I remember petting the dog one time and she looked up at me with those big brown eyes that said, "I tolerated you for awhile but now that I see you're going to hang around I guess I'll let you love me". Before she looked away I was hooked.
Now I live alone again.... except for Trudie. I really hope I'm not weird. I hope I don't dote on her like my aunt and uncle did their dogs but I'm afraid I do. I know she's just a dog and I don't ever want to become one of those mentally unbalanced souls that can't relate to humans because they shower all of their waking attention and affection on an animal. I don't want to cross that line. What amazes me and fills me with inspiration though is a Creator who can fashion a creature whose sole purpose seems to be to make me happy. I've never seen such excitement register in such a little hairy body as Trudie's when I come home from work! She is devoted to me completely. She may not be able to kick-scratch but she lives to fetch and play Frisbee! When I lay back in my recliner and she cuddles up in my lap I drift off to sleep and all is right with the world.
Just don't look long into their eyes. You will be hooked.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Thoughts on Christmas
I wish writing came really easy. I wish it wasn't work. I want all these random thoughts that come springing forth to shape themselves so that the process easily flows and everyone says, "what a great writer he is" and "I wish I could say it like that". It isn't like that though. The crazy thing is, after 2 beers I think it's like that and I'll post most anything. I once sent a rambling email to my pastor and it embarrasses me now when I peek back into "sent mail" and see it there. I can imagine him, eyebrow raised a bit and his head cocked to the side thinking, "I believe Dave had two beers before he wrote this".
Christmas 2009 came. And it went. Five years ago I was part of a larger family. I was married and my wife's family always made such a wonderful Christmas celebration. Christmas eve was at my in-laws' home and there was food and frivolity and dogs running everywhere (always more dogs than kids). We began a Christmas morning tradition that included breakfast at our house where we opened stockings while feasting on some kind of egg/sausage/hash brown casserole. I am grateful for those days.
Since 2006 it's been quite different. There was plenty of time right after the divorce to wallow in self-pity. I remember thinking, as that first post-divorce holiday season approached, "I'm going to be spending Christmas in this little apartment all by myself!" I will admit that it was a bit scary. I prayed at my bedside Christmas eve and I gotta tell you, there was an honesty about that prayer. I was whining like a baby and complaining all the while knowing I was to blame for my circumstances. Prayer in times like that is difficult for me. I always picture God like an angry parent saying, "well maybe you'll think before you go off half-cocked and do something that stupid again".
But what surprised me was that God was so comfortingly close. Kind of in spite of myself. It's like when I was a kid and got my fingers caught in my grandmother's wringer washing machine. I was hurt and scared and she scooped me up and let me nestle in her lap while she lulled me to peace in her rocking chair. Yes it was my fault. I had slipped a piece of paper between the rollers on that machine so I could see how squeezed it would become. Like putting a penny on the railroad tracks to see it after the locomotive went by knowing when I retrieved it from the tracks it would be flat as a pancake and at least the size of a half dollar. Nothing like that happened to the paper though. It just sat there all wet and went 'round and 'round on the roller. Thinking I'd better retrieve it, I put my fingers up there so I could scrape it from the roller as it came by. The rollers weren't having any of that. They live for little boy's fingers! Slowly I watched helpless as my index and middle finger were pulled between the merciless rollers. I remember screaming. Grandma came quickly in her uneven gait down the stairs and saved me. God was just like that that Christmas eve night. Only bigger.
Now Christmas is singing carols with a group of friends at a home where a young wife has terminal cancer as she celebrates what will likely be her last Christmas here on earth. A holy time. Christmas is taking some hot coffee, biscuits and gloves to folks who live in a tunnel downtown. It's squelching my pride, at least for a few hours, to accept a dinner invitation at a friend's home with her three sons. Don't get me wrong. I would love to have the joyous family celebration again and the opportunities to serve were there all the time. Maybe I just had to wake up a bit. Maybe it helped to be squeezed a little.
Christmas 2009 came. And it went. Five years ago I was part of a larger family. I was married and my wife's family always made such a wonderful Christmas celebration. Christmas eve was at my in-laws' home and there was food and frivolity and dogs running everywhere (always more dogs than kids). We began a Christmas morning tradition that included breakfast at our house where we opened stockings while feasting on some kind of egg/sausage/hash brown casserole. I am grateful for those days.
Since 2006 it's been quite different. There was plenty of time right after the divorce to wallow in self-pity. I remember thinking, as that first post-divorce holiday season approached, "I'm going to be spending Christmas in this little apartment all by myself!" I will admit that it was a bit scary. I prayed at my bedside Christmas eve and I gotta tell you, there was an honesty about that prayer. I was whining like a baby and complaining all the while knowing I was to blame for my circumstances. Prayer in times like that is difficult for me. I always picture God like an angry parent saying, "well maybe you'll think before you go off half-cocked and do something that stupid again".
But what surprised me was that God was so comfortingly close. Kind of in spite of myself. It's like when I was a kid and got my fingers caught in my grandmother's wringer washing machine. I was hurt and scared and she scooped me up and let me nestle in her lap while she lulled me to peace in her rocking chair. Yes it was my fault. I had slipped a piece of paper between the rollers on that machine so I could see how squeezed it would become. Like putting a penny on the railroad tracks to see it after the locomotive went by knowing when I retrieved it from the tracks it would be flat as a pancake and at least the size of a half dollar. Nothing like that happened to the paper though. It just sat there all wet and went 'round and 'round on the roller. Thinking I'd better retrieve it, I put my fingers up there so I could scrape it from the roller as it came by. The rollers weren't having any of that. They live for little boy's fingers! Slowly I watched helpless as my index and middle finger were pulled between the merciless rollers. I remember screaming. Grandma came quickly in her uneven gait down the stairs and saved me. God was just like that that Christmas eve night. Only bigger.
Now Christmas is singing carols with a group of friends at a home where a young wife has terminal cancer as she celebrates what will likely be her last Christmas here on earth. A holy time. Christmas is taking some hot coffee, biscuits and gloves to folks who live in a tunnel downtown. It's squelching my pride, at least for a few hours, to accept a dinner invitation at a friend's home with her three sons. Don't get me wrong. I would love to have the joyous family celebration again and the opportunities to serve were there all the time. Maybe I just had to wake up a bit. Maybe it helped to be squeezed a little.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Eating, Drinking and Working
This book of Ecclesiastes is probably not meant as a quick and cheerful read. There is so much here that on the surface sounds sad. Much of what I read seems to teach that life may not have the depth of meaning I thought it did. Nevertheless I will read it again and continue to pray through it. I've learned over the years that understanding the Bible takes time and disciplined study.
I had to smile when I read chapter 10, verse 2. This is an obvious verse in support of Republicans and against Democrats. Listen: "A wise man's heart inclines him to the right, but a fool's heart to the left." Some things are just so clear!
Chapter 8:11-13 rang true. "Because the sentence against an evil deed is not executed speedily, the heart of the children of man is fully set to do evil. Though a sinner does evil a hundred times and prolongs his life, yet I know it will be well with those that fear God, because they fear before Him. But it will not be well with the wicked, neither will he prolong his days like a shadow, because he does not fear before God." I may not get all of that but oh it's so true. It is easy to continue in sin because punishment is not always immediate.
There was this one thread that kept popping up. Well, okay there were several. Like the "all is vanity part." That repeats like the steady dripping of a faucet throughout the book. I still don't know what to make of that. But the part that caught my interest occurs in one form or another in 2:24, 3:13, 3:22, 5:18, 8:15, 9:7. Solomon keeps up the refrain that to eat, drink and enjoy our work is a gift from God. How utterly practical. How terrific this is! I like to eat and I like to drink. I do really enjoy my work. I haven't always liked my job but, for the most part, there has always been a measure of pleasure in the daily grind. So... this is God's gift to me. And to you.
So, I'll thank Him for the pizza, the Coca Cola, the frosty glass of Heineken, the hot cup of fresh brewed coffee and the occasional treat my brother-in-law takes off the grill. I'll wonder at His creative genius to make a tongue that senses such pleasure in these things. I'll worship Him with my joy in my work as I serve my customers and I'll be grateful for each paycheck knowing He gives me the ability to get wealth (Deuteronomy 8:18).
Now, about that vanity part.....
I had to smile when I read chapter 10, verse 2. This is an obvious verse in support of Republicans and against Democrats. Listen: "A wise man's heart inclines him to the right, but a fool's heart to the left." Some things are just so clear!
Chapter 8:11-13 rang true. "Because the sentence against an evil deed is not executed speedily, the heart of the children of man is fully set to do evil. Though a sinner does evil a hundred times and prolongs his life, yet I know it will be well with those that fear God, because they fear before Him. But it will not be well with the wicked, neither will he prolong his days like a shadow, because he does not fear before God." I may not get all of that but oh it's so true. It is easy to continue in sin because punishment is not always immediate.
There was this one thread that kept popping up. Well, okay there were several. Like the "all is vanity part." That repeats like the steady dripping of a faucet throughout the book. I still don't know what to make of that. But the part that caught my interest occurs in one form or another in 2:24, 3:13, 3:22, 5:18, 8:15, 9:7. Solomon keeps up the refrain that to eat, drink and enjoy our work is a gift from God. How utterly practical. How terrific this is! I like to eat and I like to drink. I do really enjoy my work. I haven't always liked my job but, for the most part, there has always been a measure of pleasure in the daily grind. So... this is God's gift to me. And to you.
So, I'll thank Him for the pizza, the Coca Cola, the frosty glass of Heineken, the hot cup of fresh brewed coffee and the occasional treat my brother-in-law takes off the grill. I'll wonder at His creative genius to make a tongue that senses such pleasure in these things. I'll worship Him with my joy in my work as I serve my customers and I'll be grateful for each paycheck knowing He gives me the ability to get wealth (Deuteronomy 8:18).
Now, about that vanity part.....
Saturday, November 7, 2009
What Not to do Should You Become Depressed
I heard from a friend tonight. He told me his parents are separated and may be getting a divorce. I've been through divorce and I remember the twisted gut pain of the moment. It wrenched anew each morning when the fog of sleep lifted and I became conscious of the reality that something was moving interminably toward a conclusion I couldn't control. I had been so used to fudging for just a wee bit more time to get all the pieces of any problem in just the right orientation so I could pull off a splendid resolution. Or, at least procrastinate long enough for another crisis to take center stage. Finally my marriage ended; I couldn't save it. The time for saving it had past. I was probably at work or watching T.V. and it slipped by unnoticed like homely girl in the hallway at school. I remember the warning signs. I remember her telling me what bothered her and when. I think I tried to manage the problems like a homework assignment.
So now on Friday nights I sit in my favorite chair and rub my devoted dog's head. I waste time on Facebook and hear the echos of well-meaning friends saying, "everyone is meant for someone" and "you just haven't met the right woman yet". Oh yes, then there's the ever helpful, "I have someone I'd like you to meet." Right now I am certain that I lack the strength to carry all of this baggage into one more relationship.
I smile and remember that I really am just a mist. I am here for just a brief moment and then I'm gone. All these words I write will be forgotten, every song I've labored over will be remembered by no one. My loves and losses at first may be remembered by some but then they will all slip into the more distant past where all is finally forgotten. Depressing.
So I click over to espn.com and see what the prognosticators say about tomorrow's upcoming college football games. My laptop has become my T.V. I can waste time very effectively surfing the internet. I need to pick up a book and read. I need to study for an upcoming class. At the very least I could get up and file the papers that are cluttering my desk. Yet all this would take energy I cannot muster at the moment. Besides, I'd have to move my dog off my lap and she seems quite comfortable.
I feel like we were made for more. God has set eternity in our hearts (Ecclesiastes 3:11). Uh oh. Maybe it's best not to quote Ecclesiastes - especially if I am feeling a bit down. One look into those 12 chapters again and depression is a certainty. Like a driver with his neck craned to see a traffic accident he really doesn't wish to see, I grab my Bible and look into the Old Testament book...
So now on Friday nights I sit in my favorite chair and rub my devoted dog's head. I waste time on Facebook and hear the echos of well-meaning friends saying, "everyone is meant for someone" and "you just haven't met the right woman yet". Oh yes, then there's the ever helpful, "I have someone I'd like you to meet." Right now I am certain that I lack the strength to carry all of this baggage into one more relationship.
I smile and remember that I really am just a mist. I am here for just a brief moment and then I'm gone. All these words I write will be forgotten, every song I've labored over will be remembered by no one. My loves and losses at first may be remembered by some but then they will all slip into the more distant past where all is finally forgotten. Depressing.
So I click over to espn.com and see what the prognosticators say about tomorrow's upcoming college football games. My laptop has become my T.V. I can waste time very effectively surfing the internet. I need to pick up a book and read. I need to study for an upcoming class. At the very least I could get up and file the papers that are cluttering my desk. Yet all this would take energy I cannot muster at the moment. Besides, I'd have to move my dog off my lap and she seems quite comfortable.
I feel like we were made for more. God has set eternity in our hearts (Ecclesiastes 3:11). Uh oh. Maybe it's best not to quote Ecclesiastes - especially if I am feeling a bit down. One look into those 12 chapters again and depression is a certainty. Like a driver with his neck craned to see a traffic accident he really doesn't wish to see, I grab my Bible and look into the Old Testament book...
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