Posts Tagged ‘purpose

30
Jan
18

The Allure of the Forbidden

Apple and snakeMany years ago, when my youngest son was 16, he came to me with a “plan”.

I put the word “plan” in quotes here because it was really more like an announcement and a challenge, cleverly blended together.

“Hey, dad!” he said, feigning nonchalance. “Guess what? I’m going to get a tattoo.”

I folded down one corner of my newspaper, looked over at him, and said, “OK,” with equal disinterest and insouciance. “That’s cool,” and then immediately returned to whatever article I was pretending to read.

In truth, I was not at all OK with my 16-year-old son getting a tattoo… no matter where he planned to put it. And it’s not that I had anything against tattoos. I still don’t for that matter. I just thought 16 was WAY too young for him to start making permanent marks on his body.

No, I chose to respond with artificial indifference hoping that it would blunt the most appealing parts of his “plan” – the elements of danger, intrigue, and parental disapproval.

As it turned out, the ploy WORKED! That brief chit-chat was both the first and the last time I ever heard the word “tattoo” exit his lips. Still to this day – 22 years later – my son remains inkless.

So why is it, do you suppose, that the forbidden thing exerts such a powerful allure to us? It is a phenomenon that finds its origins in the earliest annals of biblical history. God swept his arm out over the entirety of creation and said, “See all of this? Lots of great fruit and veggies out there. Have at it! Eat anything you want. Anything at all… except for the fruit on THAT tree right over there.”

Naturally, “that tree over there” immediately became the most appealing tree in the entire world.

My wife and I have recently discovered that this attraction to the world outside the boundaries is not limited to humans. Our new puppy Rosie totally turns up her nose at the pile of “legal” chew toys and heads straight for shoes, socks, chair legs, newspapers, and anything else that we try to keep her away from.

Here she is, chewing blissfully on the shower squeegee while ignoring the “bully stick” we purchased from the pet store.Rosie with squeegee

So what is it? Do we have some kind of hardwired distrust of authority? When someone intones, “Do this!” does our DNA automatically signal, “Nope”?

I’m not sure I buy this answer at all. I am enough of a dork that I want to know where the lines are so that I can color inside them. Too long a stretch of driving on a highway without seeing a speed limit sign makes me nervous.

Is it because we are so enamored of our personal freedom that we see any kind of limit as a threat to that freedom? We are, after all, the nation born from a passionate rebellion to limits placed on our national aspirations.

Or… perhaps there is a belief – living deep within our chromosomes – that the verboten thing is somehow superior to the permitted one? I mean, it would have to be, wouldn’t it? Otherwise, why would it be off limits? If everyone had free, unfettered access to the thing it wouldn’t be special, right?

Or maybe we are all just trying to add a little spice to our lives by seasoning it with a dash of risk and adventure… like my son with his tattoo plan. I am sure this was the reason I sneaked those first few cigarettes out of my father’s pack of Newports and shared them with my friends down behind the fairgrounds.

Smoking was rebellious and dangerous, so automatically it was EXCITING.

I’m really not sure what the answer is.

Maybe you have a theory. If so, I’d love to hear it.

I know the impulse to disobey is still something that courses through my bloodstream. DAILY. I am almost always able to rein it in, but it is still there. But honestly, wouldn’t a life of rigid, total observance of every boundary be borderline miserable?

And what does any of this have to do with living faithfully under the reign of God?

The apostle Paul tells us that the call of God-in-Christ is a call, not to misery, but to freedom. He says, “For you were called to freedom, brothers, and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’” (Galatians 5:13-14, NRSV).

Slavery to love = freedom? I’ll buy that, Mr. Paul.

But I’m still puzzled about why my fellow humans and I are drawn so powerfully to forbidden fruit.

16
Jan
18

DANG!

freezing-manWhen my cheeks first began to sting, we were at the exact halfway point of the walk.

Prudence told me it was time to turn around and head back. (And yes, prudence and I do talk occasionally). But at the halfway mark, turning around and heading back and carrying on and finishing the walk amounted to exactly the same thing

So we finished the walk. And my stinging cheeks got even stingier.

Rosie the puppy did not seem to be bothered at all by the eight-degree temperature or the 15 mph wind. She was all like, “Hey… I’ve got this fur coat! What’s your deal?”

And I used Rosie as my excuse when I walked back inside and my wife asked, “What were you thinking, going out on a day like this?”

Rosie close upI said, “Well, you know… Rosie has been cooped up inside all day and I thought she needed a little bit of a walk. Hey… we were only gone like 20 minutes!”

Later, on the evening news, the weatherman told us in grave and serious tones that in these conditions, frostbite can set in in less than 30 minutes.

Dang!

And so I did what I can do. I put on another layer, cranked up the thermostat a degree or two, lit the fire in the gas log fireplace, and pulled the afghan up around my ears.

And there I was… all toasty, comfy, and warm. Can someone just hand me the TV remote now, please?

And then I thought about Tom. And Kevin. And Jim. And others.

Tom is a cattle rancher. On mornings like this, Tom has to go out to his farm pond with a big, heavy axe. Tom has to chop away at the ice until there is a big hole in it. Then he has to go around to the other side of the pond and chop the ice and make another hole.

Tom has to do this so his cows will have access to the water in the pond.

If Tom didn’t go out and chop the holes in the ice, the cows would probably walk out onto the ice in search of water. They would then likely break the ice and fall in. And likely be stuck. And probably die.

So Tom really has no choice about getting out in this weather or not.

Tom is also 76 years old.

Kevin is a lineman for the public electrical utility.

Kevin’s phone often rings at 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning on a day like this.

Kevin is dispatched to a remote location where the electrical power has gone out. Either a transformer has overheated and blown up, or ice has caused power lines to break or something else has gone wrong in the grid.

If Kevin didn’t go out in the dark and bitter, biting cold, people might freeze to death in their homes.

So Kevin really has no choice about getting out in this weather or not.

Jim lives on the outskirts of town. It is a generous use of the term to refer to his residence using the word “house.”

Yes, there is a roof. Yes, there are walls, and windows, and a door, and a floor.

But Jim has no electricity. Jim has no running water. Jim has no heating system besides the wood he can find to burn in his fireplace.

Jim walks the four miles into town and back wearing shoes he has made himself… stitching odd pieces of leather together with a large needle.

I don’t know anything about Jim’s story or the circumstances that led him into this situation.

I just know that Jim doesn’t really have a choice about being out in this weather or not.

And so – huddled up here under my afghan in my toasty home – I give thanks. I give thanks for this shelter. I give thanks for the random collection of circumstances that gave it to me. I give thanks that the only frostbite I face is that which I decide to foolishly visit upon myself.

But in my thanksgiving, I also realize the need to be careful. In my thanksgiving, I need to take extra care about my use of the word “blessings,” conveying, as it does, the gift of a divine measure of grace… somehow dispensed to me but not to Tom, or Kevin, or Jim, or the EMT responding to the scene of an accident, or the police officer, or the single mom with no car and no job.

So yes… I am blessed.

But just like Abraham of the Old Testament, I am called to remember: I am blessed. But I am blessed for a reason. I am blessed to BE a blessing. (Genesis 22:18).

Could we even go so far as to propose this blessing formula: The more blessed, the more blessing required?

Why not?

Stay warm, friends. And while you’re at it, find a way to bless according to your blessing.

18
Apr
17

Wasps?

I’m not sure it is bad enough to call it a wasp problem.

Even the word concern gives it a little more gravity than it deserves.

So let’s go with either the phrase wasp vexation or wasp annoyance.

It all starts with our little, elderly, deaf terrier mix Molly Dog. It seems her legs are no longer strong enough to allow her to go out through her dog door when she needs to answer nature’s call. And so… being the caring, yet fundamentally lazy dog parents we are… my wife and I will occasionally prop open the back door so that Molly can come and go whenever she needs to; without our having to get up, walk over, and open the door.

The only problem with this approach is that we regularly look up to see a solitary wasp has entered our house… bumping along the ceiling of our breakfast room, trying desperately to find a way back out.

And so we freak out.

Totally.

Because we both thoroughly and perfectly HATE WASPS! With a red-hot PASSION!

I mean, look at them! They look so evil with their sleek, black and yellow bodies, pointy stingers, and malevolent eyes! Wasp photoWasps look like they are made with equal parts menace and malice… buzzing around looking for an innocent person to swoop down and sting, purely for the sport of it.

I was stung by a wasp once as a kid and remember the experience vividly to this day. As a result I have a MUCH greater aversion to wasps than to just about any other stinging insect.

Yes, bees also sting, but I get bees. Bees pollinate flowers. They make honey. They are kind of chubby and slow moving so they have to be armed with a stinger to keep birds and other insect-eating species from gobbling them up.

honey beeBees have an important job in the Overall Scheme of Things.

But honestly… don’t you have to wonder why wasps even EXIST?

So to answer that question, I did what anyone with a computer might do. I GOGGLED it. And here is what I found: from the website thoughtco.com: “As a group, wasps provide extraordinarily important ecological services, including pollination, predation, and parasitism. Put simply, without wasps we would be overrun with insect pests, and we would have no Fig Newtons.”

On another part of that same site it said that wasps have a unique ability to carry live yeast cultures around in their stomachs. And so when they go and feed on grapes in a vineyard, they give the grapes the necessary ingredient that allows grapes to ferment into wine!

And so a waspless world would be a world overrun with insect pests and a world without Fig Newtons or wine. In other words, a world not worth living in.

It was then I realized: that little bit of internet research provided yet another reminder of this essential truth about life: if it exists, it has a purpose.

We can then extend that lesson and say because YOU exist, you have a purpose… a purpose that cannot be fulfilled by anyone else.

It is a lesson that echoes the wisdom in Psalm 139:14 – “I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are all your works; that I know full well.” You can’t see it in your Bible, but in mine there is a little asterisk after the word “works” and it says at the bottom of the page: “Even wasps.”

And as Psalm 24:1 reminds us: “The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it, the world, and those who live in it…[including wasps].”

Jesus even got in on the act during the Sermon on the Mount when he told his listeners: “Look at the birds [wasps] of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” (Matthew 6:26, NRSV).

Never ever forget the lesson of the wasp: you fit. You belong. You have a unique and God-given purpose in the world that no one else can fulfill.

Today you may not know that that purpose is, or you may have forgotten it. It may take a little more digging than a Google search to discover that purpose, but you can be 100% confident it is there.

My hope is that in some small way this devotion might take a little of the sting out of any doubts about your purpose that you might be harboring today.

 

Abundant blessings…

21
Mar
17

A CASE OF THE DRIFTS

Shoulder-rumble-strips-.com-April-5-2013I got a little bit of a scare the other day.

As I was driving back home after having spent the day in the two small communities where I serve, I noticed a bit of weariness beginning to set in. The old eyelids drooped a little and fogginess slowly began to enter my brain.

Instead of doing the smart thing and pulling off the highway for a couple of minutes to get out of the car, walk around, and revive myself a bit, I decided just to grit my teeth and push on. You know… the manly way.

Suddenly I heard a loud BRRRP, BRRRP BRRRP as the wheels of my car started rolling across the rumble strips that are cut into the shoulder of the highway. I sat up with a start, corrected my steering wheel, and got back into my lane.

WHEW! That was close, I thought to myself. And yes… I did pull off the next exit and walked around the car three times to help wake myself up.

In addition to vowing to be more cognizant about my overall state of alertness, I was also struck by how quickly and easily this whole thing had happened. One minute I was just driving along the highway, happy as a clam. The next minute I was headed for the ditch.

The change from “focused, purposeful driving” to “unconscious, aimless drifting” took less than an instant.

All of which made me cock my head a little to the right, knit my eyebrows together, and then ask myself, “Is it possible that there are other areas of my life where a degree of DRIFT has also begun to happen… except that there are no ‘rumble strips’ to warn me about it?”

Drift is a tricky thing to pick up. By definition, the act of drifting is slow and gradual. It is not at all like suddenly yanking the wheel to the left and abruptly changing direction.

It happens almost without noticing.

Drift can happen in many different areas. It can happen in our important relationships… such as when we start taking a spouse or loved one a little bit for granted… when we stop noticing or commenting on the small, yet important differences they make in our daily life… when we stop thanking them for the micro-favors they do for us, or the subtle change they made in their appearance.

Drift can happen in the way we tend to our own health. “What the heck,” we say. “A little extra helping of this is no big deal. I’ll work it off later.” Or, “Yes, I know I really should walk there, but I’m in a hurry so I’ll just hop in the car and drive.”

Or it can happen in the 1,001 little reasons we can ingeniously invent to avoid exercise yet again today.

And if you – like me – have been a practicing Christ-follower for more than a few years, you know how easily we can begin drifting in our faith.

We get comfortable. For the most part, those of us who profess Christ are not persecuted for our belief. We stand as the dominant expression of religious faith in our culture. We don’t have to arrange secret meeting places and code words in order to gather for worship.

And so… in our comfort, we drift.

We get tired. Or even bored. We celebrate the same holy days, observe the same liturgical seasons, say the same prayers, read the same scripture passages and – mostly – hang out with the same people in our places of worship.

And so… in our boredom, we drift.

We get proud. We fall in love with our place of dominance and start to feel a sense of moral superiority about being a Christian. We sing praise songs with titles like, “How Great is Our God,” and add our own little, “He’s lots better than yours,” to the end. We honestly can’t believe that people would NOT be a part of our faith, or would purposely choose to practice something else.

And so… in our pride, we drift.

Paul Simon sang about drift in his famous 1982 song, Slip Sliding Away. He said, “The nearer your destination, the more you’re slip sliding away.”

John the Revelator wrote about the phenomenon of drift in a little more direct, less lyrical way. He said, “I know your works; you are neither cold nor hot. I wish that you were either cold or hot. So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I am about to spit you out of my mouth. For you say, ‘I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing.’ You do not realize that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.” (Revelation 3:15-17, NRSV).

And so, just like last year and the year before and the year before that, we again stand in the middle of the season of Lent. We’ve been told a thousand times before that Lent is the season of renewal and repentance… a time to “wake ourselves up” and shake some new life into our relationship with God.

And we generally respond to that urging by saying, “Sure. OK. Great idea.” And we then go right back to checking to see what’s for dinner tonight.

day I am praying that God might help me hear the “rumble strips” in my life and jar me into aliveness and alertness and into “focused, purposeful driving” in my discipleship.

 

How about you?

 

Abundant blessings…




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