I HATE it when people put away the mixing bowls, nested in improper order. We invested alot of money in FISHER PRICE toys to make sure this would never happen. It just goes to show you, no matter how good you raise and train your kids, their journey ends up being the product of their OWN choices...just like our own lives.
Parents are, however responsible to make sure the kids know better.
(disclaimer: MY KIDS SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN TO NEST THE BOWLS IN RANDOM ORDER)... and I'll be watching, guys.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
Trade-Ins
Its after midnight. I just got home from taking some stuff to my sweetheart who is working night shift.
On the way out of the hospital, and then on the way home past some bars, and then driving through some housing projects, I could see broken lives. Each with his own journey, her own pain, their own poor choices, and with those, consequences. I often think at times like that, reflective and just a little sleepy, " God, what can be done for all of these, really. How can we fix our society. How can we increase the chances for individuals and families to survive and stay healthy in this world. And, really, I've got enough of my own work cut out for me."
So God seemed to say, "Yeah, it hurts my heart too, to see pain and emptiness. But I haven't called you to fix people, just to Love them. Love them with my love, and tell them the good news. But don't worry too much about fixing. You're all trade-ins anyhow. And I've got that covered already."
We're not really evolving. We're spiraling down the bathtub drain. We need replacing, not fixing.
That's a relief.
On the way out of the hospital, and then on the way home past some bars, and then driving through some housing projects, I could see broken lives. Each with his own journey, her own pain, their own poor choices, and with those, consequences. I often think at times like that, reflective and just a little sleepy, " God, what can be done for all of these, really. How can we fix our society. How can we increase the chances for individuals and families to survive and stay healthy in this world. And, really, I've got enough of my own work cut out for me."
So God seemed to say, "Yeah, it hurts my heart too, to see pain and emptiness. But I haven't called you to fix people, just to Love them. Love them with my love, and tell them the good news. But don't worry too much about fixing. You're all trade-ins anyhow. And I've got that covered already."
We're not really evolving. We're spiraling down the bathtub drain. We need replacing, not fixing.
That's a relief.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Patience
So, I was on my way to a gathering of Christ followers (we used to call it Church, but I think that was too easy to understand. This newspeak is much more elitist and selfserving, and probably helps to further alienate the unseeking seekers we're seeking to seek. Whenever I get into the whole ultra cool postmod lingo with my friends, they're like, "on your way to a what, now?" so i start explaining this gathering/meeting thing with music, and somebody sharing relavent wisdom from some ancient manuscripts... and they're like.. "oh yah, you mean church" then they look at me like I'm irrelevant, and they go, "why didn't you just say so". and I'm like, "if you want to understand me, you have to read bluelikejazz first. Because I've made the move to cultural relevance".....)
now, where was I...
oh yeah, on my way to what-we-used-to-call-church, with the kids in the soccerVan. Two of my boys start a little skirmish thing that seemed a little loud for early in the morning in the small soccerVan. But it was positive and friendly, so I'm thinking...hmmmm.... this is getting on my nerves. But really, they're not hurting anything. Their mom (my 'what-we-used-to-call-wife') is on a string of nightshifts, (legitimate reason to forsake the Gathering) so she's not in the soccerVan. So, they're not really bothering anybody but me. And, I figure, we're almost there.You know I have a few trump cards that can end it pretty quick. But I hold my cards. So, let them continue to prepare their hearts for 'what-we-used-to-call-worship' in whatever way seems good to them. I can be patient. Patient, knowing Relief comes when I unload them on their 'what-we-used-to-call-SundaySchoolTeachers'.
So, I flip my rearview mirror to its night setting, and smile, feeling like I'm an awesome dad for letting the boys make a happy commotion on the way to what-we-used-to-call-church.
Feeling like I'm patient.
A while later, I'm in the gathering formerly known as church. The band is playing, some song about how great God is. With no known relevance to the song, God says, " You remember that I'm eternal, eh?" Wait. let me try to explain. No voices, really. its just the voice 'in my head'. And it seems God always speaks to me in the most familiar voice. So, just like when God spoke to Samuel, and was repeatedly mistaken for Eli his spiritual teacher, God has spoken to me in the most familiar of Godly voices. My dad. So when God speaks to me, he says "eh" because dad says "eh". I think God is pretty cool that way. So God says, "You remember that I'm eternal, eh" in this Torontonain accent. Which is one way that I figure it was God speaking. But, it starts this wild chain of thoughts in me. God's patience is rooted in His eternity. its not like my play-doh patience. He's got the real thing. He doesn't just put up with us until He can't take it anymore. He doesn't get 'annoyed' from a frame that is weakened by nothing in the cupboard but decaf coffee. He is angered from a center of great strength. No frazzled nerves. No "just can't take it anymore". He does shut us down when things go too far for our own or anothers good. He just doesn't ever get 'fed up'. He always ends things for Stronger reasons. His patience is always watching His timing, not guaging to see how far He can go before He snaps.
So, I'm hungering for more of that God-patience within, to take the place of my play-doh patience. I don't think God ever finds himself "feeling patient". He just IS.
"You remember that I'm Eternal, eh?"
now, where was I...
oh yeah, on my way to what-we-used-to-call-church, with the kids in the soccerVan. Two of my boys start a little skirmish thing that seemed a little loud for early in the morning in the small soccerVan. But it was positive and friendly, so I'm thinking...hmmmm.... this is getting on my nerves. But really, they're not hurting anything. Their mom (my 'what-we-used-to-call-wife') is on a string of nightshifts, (legitimate reason to forsake the Gathering) so she's not in the soccerVan. So, they're not really bothering anybody but me. And, I figure, we're almost there.You know I have a few trump cards that can end it pretty quick. But I hold my cards. So, let them continue to prepare their hearts for 'what-we-used-to-call-worship' in whatever way seems good to them. I can be patient. Patient, knowing Relief comes when I unload them on their 'what-we-used-to-call-SundaySchoolTeachers'.
So, I flip my rearview mirror to its night setting, and smile, feeling like I'm an awesome dad for letting the boys make a happy commotion on the way to what-we-used-to-call-church.
Feeling like I'm patient.
A while later, I'm in the gathering formerly known as church. The band is playing, some song about how great God is. With no known relevance to the song, God says, " You remember that I'm eternal, eh?" Wait. let me try to explain. No voices, really. its just the voice 'in my head'. And it seems God always speaks to me in the most familiar voice. So, just like when God spoke to Samuel, and was repeatedly mistaken for Eli his spiritual teacher, God has spoken to me in the most familiar of Godly voices. My dad. So when God speaks to me, he says "eh" because dad says "eh". I think God is pretty cool that way. So God says, "You remember that I'm eternal, eh" in this Torontonain accent. Which is one way that I figure it was God speaking. But, it starts this wild chain of thoughts in me. God's patience is rooted in His eternity. its not like my play-doh patience. He's got the real thing. He doesn't just put up with us until He can't take it anymore. He doesn't get 'annoyed' from a frame that is weakened by nothing in the cupboard but decaf coffee. He is angered from a center of great strength. No frazzled nerves. No "just can't take it anymore". He does shut us down when things go too far for our own or anothers good. He just doesn't ever get 'fed up'. He always ends things for Stronger reasons. His patience is always watching His timing, not guaging to see how far He can go before He snaps.
So, I'm hungering for more of that God-patience within, to take the place of my play-doh patience. I don't think God ever finds himself "feeling patient". He just IS.
"You remember that I'm Eternal, eh?"
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