When the House Goes Dark

 

 

“Good news,” my wife told me over the phone.  “Our power is back on.”

It was good news.  We had had a bit of snow followed by a lot of freezing rain and the end result was down power lines and lots of trees pulled down.  Our power had gone off at 5 that morning and it apparently had blinked back to life sometime in the late afternoon.

Part of the problem with living in a rural area is that when you lose power, not only do you lose the ability to cook and run your heat, but your well pump doesn’t work either.  Suddenly, flushing the toilet and taking showers jumps to the top of activities you want to do – only you can’t.

I came home to find electric lights burning brightly.  When I turned a faucet on a little later, water flowed out in an unbroken stream for me to wash my hands and continued until I turned it back off.

Oh, bliss...

All was well until about 8:30 that evening.

Our family was sitting together, and I was reading a short devotional when, all of a sudden, the power blinked, came back on, blinked again, and then with the finality of a judge’s gavel, shut off completely, leaving us in the dark.

“OH NO!!”  Our youngest, Elise said.  “Turn on the lights!”

“We can’t,” Elaine said.  “There must be power lines down between here and the power station.”

I went to grab a flashlight.  When I returned, my oldest son said, “You know what’s nice Dad?”

“What’s that, Vincent?”  I couldn’t see any silver lining at the moment – mostly because I was having a hard time seeing.

“There’s power in the blood!”  He said.  The Dad jokes start young these days.

It was awfully dark that night.  There were no night lights and no forty minute showers.  Just blankets and bed and boredom.

(Interestingly, we were still able to power on all of the old-fashioned books in the house...)

The power stayed off until the following afternoon.  It was a blessing that it came on when it did – I knew several families in the area who didn’t get power back for nearly a week after the ice storm.

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”  (I Thessalonians 5:18)

I’m not sure what to be thankful for in a situation where you lose power for roughly 36 hours.  The fact that it came back on for a four hour stretch in the middle?  The fact that we didn’t lose it for longer?

What I know for certain is that I value things more after I lose them.  So much of life centers around things that we take for granted.  These are things like health and functioning vehicles and even electricity.  When those things go away, even for a short period of time, suddenly the difficulty level of getting through our days ramps up considerably.

I would love to learn to be thankful for things that I have, long before the house goes dark.

Before I Was Born

 

A wailing sound came from the middle seat of our minivan.  We were on our way to church, and someone was NOT in the Spirit.  Not at all.

That person was the youngest member of our family, Elise.

“Who’s bothering Elise?”  I asked in a somewhat grumpy voice.  Other people sing hymns all the way to church, but in the Waldron family, we simply survive, like people in a lifeboat dropped from the deck of the Titanic.  Sometimes we even listen to "Nearer My God to Thee" to lift our spirits.

“No one is bothering her,” Victoria put in.  “She just started crying.”

“Why are you upset, Elise?”  Elaine asked.

“I’m not upset,” Elise said, stopping crying for a moment.  “I’m just sad that you all went to Israel without me!”

“Oh,” I said, not sure what to say.  The trip in question happened in the summer of 2017 and Elise wasn’t born till September of 2019.  “We didn’t leave you behind,” I said.  “You just weren’t born yet.”

This inspired more crying.  “Why didn’t you wait?”  Elise asked.  This was the sort of question that had no answer, certainly not an answer that would satisfy a five-year old who feels anguish in response to all of the things her family did before she was born.

Of course, for most of us, there is a lot more history that precedes the date of our birth than has come since then.  I suppose it doesn’t really matter.  There are far more things that we haven’t done than that we have done and far more places we haven’t visited than those we have.

…And I’ve never been to Boston in the fall!

“I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.”  (Philippians 4:12,13)

Satisfaction grows out of contentment, not out of pursuing all of the things this world claims will satisfy.  Knowing Elise, even if she had visited Israel, she would have something else she was dissatisfied with – a Lego set she didn’t have or some other place where she wanted to vacation.

That’s normal for a five-year-old, but I do hope she grows – not in her desires, but in her ability to be content.  This is something that even people ten times her age can learn better.  The most joyful people also have the most contentment – not because they have the most, but simply because they have learned to be satisfied, even in periods of want.

Saving for a Snowstorm

 

“There’s ten inches of snow on the ground in New Orleans!”  My patient was clearly impressed by the amount of white goodness that had fallen in Southern Louisiana.

“I wish we got that much snow here,” I said.  “We got three inches a week ago and it seemed like it melted a couple of days later.”

“They have NO idea what to do with that much snow,” Robert continued.  “I heard they don’t have any snowplows and so they are sending in snowplows from places like Indiana to help out!”

“I guess it helps to be ready for something like that,” I said.  “Of course, it’s hard to think about buying snowplows when the last time they got this much snow in New Orleans was a hundred years ago.”

“You’ve just got to be ready for anything!”  My patient told me seriously.

“My experience tells me that the important thing when getting ready for a snowstorm is to buy a bunch of bread and milk,” I said.  “That’s more important than having a snowplow.”

Our conversation wandered off in other directions – more specifically having to do with his health, but I continued to think about it later.  There are many things in life that we need to be ready for.  Some of them are very uncommon (like snowstorms in New Orleans) and some are impossible to really be ready for.

When COVID moved across the globe in 2020, we discovered how poor preparations were for a pandemic.  I wonder how much better nations are prepared now.

In the book of Genesis, the story is told of Pharaoh.  Apparently, the king awakened one night having had a terrible dream in which seven skinny cows ate seven fat cows.  Uncertain of the meaning, he combed the kingdom for a dream interpreter until someone mentioned a Hebrew prisoner who seemed to have a gift in this direction.

So it was that Joseph came before the king and told the king that the next seven years would have amazing harvest with plenty.  Following that would come seven years of famine and want.

At this point, Joseph interjected a little wisdom of his own.  “Therefore, Pharaoh should find an intelligent and wise man and put him in charge of the entire land of Egypt.  Then Pharaoh should appoint supervisors over the land and let them collect one-fifth of all the crops during the seven good years. Have them gather all the food produced in the good years that are just ahead and bring it to Pharaoh’s storehouses. Store it away, and guard it so there will be food in the cities.  That way there will be enough to eat when the seven years of famine come to the land of Egypt. Otherwise this famine will destroy the land.” (Genesis 41:33-36)

This advice amazes me when I read it because it is the opposite way that most governments function.  Few legislative bodies save for a rainy day.  Most spend the maximum amount that tax receipts allow and when that isn’t enough, they borrow from the future to fund present spending.

Many of us live similarly.  We live to the edge of our capabilities, but in terms of finances, but also time management and many other things.  Often it seems as though we are borrowing from Molly to afford the weapon which we use to rob Peter and finally pay Paul.

I wonder if we can hear the wisdom that Joseph had in our own lives.  There are some things we cannot really prepare for, but living our lives with a little margin can make a huge difference, even when it comes to dealing with a sudden southern snowstorm.

Blinded by the Light

 

 

“I live on the wrong side of the county,” I told the older man.

“How’s that?”  He asked.  “Don’t you like your neighbors?”

“Oh, our neighbors are fine,” I said.  “We might live in Hell Bend, but I think most of the moonshiners have taken up other employment.  It’s actually a quiet part of the county.”

“Then what’s the problem,” he asked me, curiously.

“Just that we live west of Brookneal,” I said, thinking that that explained everything.

“I still don’t understand,” he said.

“I work in Brookneal,” I said.

“Sure,” he agreed.  I wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t know.

“Well, somehow Congress passed a new regulation and the sun rises in the east and sets in the west,” I said.  “The problem arises in that I am driving towards the sun in the morning when it goes up and then in the evening, when I go home, it seems to be setting right in the middle of my windshield.  Truly, I am blinded by the light…!”

The other man didn’t seem to have much to say in response to this.  Of course, barring another act of Congress deciding that the sun should rise in the west and set in the east, it seems likely that sunglasses lie in my foreseeable future.

Of course, I’m not actually driving towards the sun.  It is a long way away from Virginia – 93 million miles they say – and drive as fast as I could, I don’t think I could ever reach it.

The issue of course is driving with the sun in my eyes.  It can almost blind you as you come around a corner and discover its brilliant presence dazzling your retinas.

It strikes me that Christians should always drive towards the Son.  “Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:1)

It is challenging.  There are lots of distractions that we’d rather look at and beyond all that, Jesus’ example makes us realize how poor a job we truly do at following Him.  It’s easier to focus on other humans or even our smart phones.

We are still called to pursue Him and to focus our gaze on Him.  Even if doing so blinds us to many of the other things around, we will see far better than on anything else.  It is when the light is strongest that darkness is truly defeated.

Smelling Snow

 

Lo, one day, it so transpired that my family went to church, for, it was the first day of the week and on this day, we harnessed up Old Nellie, Hitched up the Buggy and wended our way to 5946 Brookneal Highway.  There we raised our voices in song and listened to a sermon and eventually departed for our Abode.

Upon arriving out our home, my eldest daughter sniffed the air and announced, “It smells like snow to me!”

This statement was greeted with much acclaim, for verily, we have had little Snow over the last two years and my children were Right Ready to see some of the crystalline water.

Elise also tested the aroma borne upon the chilly air and asked, “What does snow smell like?”

This was a difficult question to answer and after a feeble attempt, Anna saith that it was a difficult concept and well above the ability of a five-year old to understand.  And that, as the sages say, was that.

“The App that Predicteth weather on my phone does say we will get somewhere between 10 and 12 inches of snow,” I proclaimed, attempting to pour a layer of scientific knowledge over the situation.  This engendered even more excitement on the part of my children, as this seemed far more certain than my eldest daughter’s nose.

“I don’t know about that,” quoth my beautiful wife.  “The National Weather Service says one to two inches of a mixture of snow and sleet.  They are usually right.”

Upon entering our house, we proceeded to check upon the websites of AccuWeather, NOAA, and MSN Weather.  AccuWeather and NOAA gave the same dismal forecast of a bit of snow, followed close on by freezing rain.  On the other hand, MSN weather predicted heavy snow, 10 to 12 inches of shovel-ready white powder ready by morning!

I Knit my Brows so hard they almost turned into a pair of socks, wondering which of these, Very Different forecasts to believe.  I finally decided to do a little research.  It turned out that MSN Weather was using Artificial Intelligence combined with data to predict worldwide weather.  It had even won Awards for being accurate.  On the other hand, the National Weather Service simply used meteorologists, satellites, and radar to make their predictions.  Very Old School indeed.

The choice was Clear.  MSN Weather was Better.  Beyond that, I wanted at least 8 or 9 inches of snow and so I chose to believe that Bill Gates’ Brain Child was correct.

All through the afternoon I monitored the situation.  It began Promising Enough with large white flakes falling from the sky.  Soon the ground was covered with a thin layer of snow, but then, Alas, the falling snow changed to a cold rain that froze on the ground and the trees.

Checking MSN Weather, it continued to confidently say that at this given moment, Heavy Snow was falling on Gladys.  The only problem was that I had only to poke my head out the door to see that the site was Plum Wrong. 

So, it went.  The following morning, MSN Weather stated that the Gladys area had received a sum total of 8.79 inches of snow in the preceding twenty-four hours when we had gotten perhaps a half inch of snow and another half inch of freezing rain.

So much for Artificial Intelligence.

It is challenging these days to discern who to believe when the sources of knowledge share such disparate opinions.  Solomon said, “In the multitude of counselors there is safety.” (Proverbs 11:14) I wonder how he would have dealt with the internet and the Multitude of Experts who reside there.

I imagine that, as with the kings of old, most of us simply seek out counselors who confirm our opinions. 

Even pastors are not exempt, for, it is often easier to explain away the hard things of the Gospel – the need to give unstintingly to the needy, to love enemies, and live with moral purity – than to attempt to live them.  So it is, that people gravitate to teachers who tell them what they wish to hear – that God loves them and there is no need to change.

Mayhap most of us would do better simply reading the Scripture ourselves and trying to apply it to our lives.  For those who search for the forecast they want may find it, but like as not, they will still end up with a half inch of snow and a half inch of ice when all is said and done.

Thoughts on Missing a Gathering

 

“I’m sorry to tell you, Honey,” Elaine said.  “But Elise was up during the night and she’s running a fever now.”

I looked at her crestfallen.  Elaine had had Victoria at urgent care the previous day and Victoria had tested positive for influenza, but she had seemed better in the evening and I had hoped beyond hope that everyone in our family had gotten flu who was going to get it. 

So much for hope…

The Waldron family was gathering in northern Virginia and we had beaten back and forth the question of whether we were healthy enough to join the others.  Now, the answer was staring us in the face and we weren’t happy.

“I was praying that it would be clear to us whether or not we should go,” Elaine said.  “I guess my prayer was answered.”

“I was just praying that we would be able to go,” I said, hearing the sobs in the background of my daughters who were distressed at the idea of not seeing their cousins.  “I guess my prayer was answered too – just not the way I wanted.”

Many people see God’s hand moving in all of the little intricacies of their lives.  Perhaps the reason why our little tribe couldn’t join the larger clan was because God was trying to prevent us being shot by a sniper on the way to D.C. or hit by a small asteroid near Charlottesville.   Then again, maybe we just got a virus at the wrong time and were suffering the consequences.

It is hard for me to see the hand of God in these things.  It seems as though an omnipotent God could prevent some disaster befalling me without having my family get infected with the creeping crud.

We live in a fallen world.  It is a world in which there is cancer and pneumonia and COVID-19 and Influenza.  It is a world in which best laid plans go amiss, and parents disappoint their children.

God is still good.

David wrote, “I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” (Psalms 27:3) Some people act as though the main thing we hope for is for heaven, which of course, means that this life is full of hopelessness.  If God’s goodness is only reserved for those who have died and gone on to their reward, it would be a dark world indeed.

I suppose it has to do with my melancholic tendencies, but I often see the dark clouds and not the silver linings.  I see only the canceled trip and hear my girls’ sadness and can’t see any positives.

When I feel my heart fainting within me and discouragement rising like the flood waters to drown my spirit, I must have a solid place to stand.  Lewis B. Smedes says that “When God gets involved in our hoping, the odds get better, the stakes get higher, and the pain gets worse.”  He explains, “The pain gets worse because it hurts more to feel let down by God than it does to be fleeced by dumb fortune.”

This feels real to me.  I feel let down by my heavenly Father and wonder at His unwillingness to give me the things I hoped for.  It is like your millionaire dad saying that he is not going to buy you the Lego set you had been pining for the last three months.  “I got you these pencils and underwear instead,” he says and even as your character grows, your spirit shrinks, unwilling to hope and trust.

I have no deep insights, only that I will affirm that when all else fails, I will desperately cling to hope.  I will continue to trust my heavenly Father and His goodness.  When the floods rise and hurricane force winds blow, I feel on the edge of disaster and then, at my side, I hear His still, small voice and know that He is closer than the storm could ever be.

Literally!

 

“So, what did you do today, Anna?”  I asked my eldest daughter.  It is Christmas break, and I imagined that she had slept in till all hours.

“The big thing I did today was to take a walk,” she told me.  “I literally walked a mile or two and then I was working on the puzzle you all gave me for Christmas.  It’s actually a really hard puzzle.  See, it is a puzzle that looks like a copy of an old manuscript of Fur Elise and all of the pieces literally look the same.  Like, they are shaped differently, but they just have bits of notes on them and kind of a yellow-tan look to them and you can’t tell which part of the puzzle they go in.”

“Interesting,” I said.  “So, you literally woke up, walked, and worked on a puzzle today?”

“Yes,” she said.  “Although it sounds weird when you say it like that.”

Listening to my daughter tell a story these days is an interesting experience.  If she was unable to use the words “literally” and “actually,” I have a feeling that whatever tale she is weaving would grind to a halt.

I suppose most of us have pet words that we use regularly.  These are verbal tics that come out as we speak.  We probably are not even aware of them, while the people around us are very familiar with our use of them.

The funny thing is that Anna doesn’t really mean “literally” when she uses the word “literally.”  She is simply using the word as an intensifier – a way of saying that something was really hard, or really great, or really beautiful.

I suppose that the world expects everything we experience to be dialed up to eleven.  This is the way that influencers in our midst talk, and I suppose that if we want people to listen to us, we need to be equally intense in our expressions of pain, pleasure, and anxiety.

Jesus doesn’t seem to have felt this way at all.  In the Sermon on the Mount, He told His followers, “Just say a simple, ‘Yes, I will,’ or ‘No, I won’t.’ Anything beyond this is from the evil one.” (Matthew 5:38) The point was that He wanted His followers to simply state the truth, not needing to embellish it with extra words or swearing that something was true.

I don’t think Anna is wrong for using lots of intensifying words in telling her stories.  I imagine most teenagers do this.  I do think that people will believe us, not because we use the right words, but because we are known to tell the truth and live our lives with honesty and integrity.

Adding more words actually changes nothing and could literally detract from the story as the people reading it are literally turned off by our overuse of a word, the meaning of which it seems like we literally don’t understand.  Or something like that.

Waiting for Christmas

 

“Mom, where’s the calendar?”  Elise said.

“It’s up in your room where you left it,” Elaine said.

“I didn’t cross the today off yet,” Elise said.  She went and got the calendar and crossed off the 19^th.  “It is just one, two, three, four, five days till Christmas!”  She counted out carefully. 

“Mom,” she said.  “What are you getting me Christmas?”

“I can’t tell you,” Elaine said. 

“Yes, you can,” Elise said.  

I suppose technically, Elise was correct.  My beautiful wife was choosing not to tell her five-year old daughter what her Christmas present was, but she definitely could have had she chosen to.  “Did you get me a doll?”  Elise asked slyly.

“You’ll find out in good time,” Elaine said again.  “The other day you said you thought you could make it to Christmas.”

“Is it a doll?”  Elise asked again.  “Is it?  Is it?  Is it?”  Her voice got successively louder till echoed off the walls.  “I think I need a doll!”

“It will be more fun for you if you wait till Christmas to find out what you are having,” Elaine said.  “Otherwise, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

Elise didn’t seem convinced and went off to see what she could find in other rooms of the house.  Two of her siblings, Anna and Elliot had locked the door of a bedroom and were busy wrapping presents within.

“Let me in!”  Elise said in a commanding voice, a little like Gandalf in front of the Balrog on the bridge of Khazad dum.

“You can’t come in,” Anna said.  “We’re wrapping presents.”

Elise wasn’t discouraged for long.  She went and got her doll and then stood outside the door.  “Let me in,” she said again.  This time in a funny voice.

“We already told you,” Elliot said.  “You can’t come in – we are wrapping up gifts.”

“But I’m not Elise,” Elise said.  “I’m Ada, Elise’s doll and I really want to come in and help out.”

Somehow Elliot and Anna didn’t fall for the talking doll trick and still didn’t let her in.

I suppose it isn’t too surprising that it is torture for a five-year old to wait the few days for Christmas to arrive.  I don’t suppose patience was my strong point when I was that age either.

When Jesus was born in the little town of Bethlehem, the world had waited impatiently for thousands of years.  The need was for a Savior, a once and future king who would bring peace on earth and good will to men; an anointed one who would bring sight to the blind, set at liberty the captives, and preach the acceptable year of our Lord.

For all of the world’s impatience waiting for Christ’s birth, when they finally opened this divine gift, they were dissatisfied with it.  This Savior looked nothing like the king they expected.  He was poor, traveled everywhere by foot, and never won a single military victory.

I’m guessing that most of them would have been standing in the long lines on December 26^th with the others returning the gifts that didn’t quite meet expectation.  “Can I just get store credit?  I’m looking for a Savior capable of military victories, not one who commands me to love my enemies…”

I don’t know that the 21^st century has changed much.  People have a picture of the Savior they want.  They want freedom to pursue their own pleasures and desires, to live comfortable lives, and attain their Constitutional rights.  They want a Jesus who looks like them and likes the same things they like and votes the way they vote.

And still, Jesus calls us, asking us to lay down these rights and pleasures, giving up everything that we are and everything we have.  After laying all this down, He asks to bend down, take up the cross – a symbol of suffering – and follow only Him. 

Christmas is coming, whether we are ready or not, but I pray that we would understand the gift we have received.  For peace on earth will come, not through swords or armed militias, but through men and women who choose to love as their Savior loved them.

Threatening Reflections

 

I was sitting at my desk, in my office, when a noise attracted my attention.  Strangely, it wasn’t coming from the hallway, where people bustle up and down and the nurses offer to tell the patients how much the weigh in pounds (since our scales are set to kilograms).  Instead, it was coming from the large window that looks out on a bit of scrubby woods and the parking lot behind our office.

Usually, there isn’t much out there, maybe a squirrel or two.  Very occasionally, a cardinal will add a splash of scarlet to my drab winter days.

This morning, there was a different visitor.  A small songbird sat on a branch outside the window.  He seemed to be watching me through the glass and then I noticed a crown of crimson on top of his head. 

I watched as he flew from his perch and floated towards the window and then fluttered up and down against it, then, flew back to the twig where he had rested before.

I realized that the bird wasn’t trying to visit the amazing family practice doctor he had heard so much about in Brookneal, but rather was upset by his reflection that was conjured up in the window.  Clearly, he believed that here was another ruby-crowned kinglet trying to move in on his territory and like an Italian mob boss, he wasn’t having any part of it. 

“I think I’ll call him Bill,” I said to myself, certain that this plucky little fellow hadn’t been given any such birth name by his parents.

For the next two days, Bill spent an awful lot of time outside my window.  I didn’t really have time to track all of his movements, after all, I am a physician not an ornithologist and my patients would get discouraged if I made them wait hours simply because I was bird watching.

Bill spent most of his time eyeing the intruder.  Occasionally, he would move to attack, but this was worse than sitting on the perch, because no sooner did he fly towards his reflection, but lo and behold, the bird in the reflection flew towards him and not being very aggressive, he didn’t like that much.

Finally, on the third day, apparently, he decided he had vanquished the visiting bird, and flew away, thinking no more on the intruder or the famous physician he had visited.

I missed Bill, although I was glad, he had stopped flying at his reflection.

It struck me that many people in our world today live their lives looking for threats.  They rose to power in their organizations by tearing down others and now, they fear that someone else will gain an advantage over them in just the same way.

Many a dictator has had to order the execution of family members simply because he was afraid that they were going to usurp his authority.

It makes me sad when I see these sorts of machinations in a church setting.  Jesus told His followers at the Last Supper, “By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.” (John 13:35)

Churches should not be places of politics and power grabs.  They should be spaces filled with love – both of God and for fellow church members.  The greatest of us in this space is to be known as the ones who serves the most.  Together, we are so much more than any one of us is separately.

I am afraid that many of us forget this, and we port the power structures of the world into the church setting.  Boards and elders and pastors rule, ostensibly under the leadership of “King Jesus.” 

In the church, we should not see fellow servants as threats needing to be attacked and kept down, but rather as people who need to be loved.  Even as we embrace them, we will discover that they are like us – not a threat, but someone made as a reflection of our Creator.

Gratitude Lists

 

I can remember a lot of Thanksgiving dinners.  When I was growing up, a lot of our Thanksgivings seemed to begin quite early in the morning, followed by a four- or five-hour car drive to a relative’s house followed by a wait of a few hours for Thanksgiving dinner.

I’m not sure if I was literally starving to death by the time we sat down to the meal, but it seemed as though I was getting close.  It was at this point, that someone launched into the longest prayer of the year, blessing the food and thanking God for all of the things they could think of to thank Him for.

I like to think that I was a thankful child.  I certainly always said thank-you and if you asked me to list things I was thankful for, I would have had no trouble listing ten things.  Being as spiritually minded as I was, those would have included being thankful for the Bible, Sunday School teachers, and freedom of worship. 

And yet, I wasn’t thankful enough to want to spend a whole lot of time listing out those things when I was hungry and there was good food set before me.

Beyond all this, my young mind told me this sort of pause could be dangerous.  Who knew how long it would take for salmonella to start to grow or some other dreadful malady?  There are many food borne illnesses in this world and most of them come because food sat out too long before people ate it.

I wonder how thankful most of us are.  I know that if asked, we all could make a Gratitude List and put more than 20 items on it and yet, when I talk to people, I sense that they are a lot more focused on the negative aspects of their lives than the good things.

I once worked with a surgeon who asked me, “What is the enemy of good?”

I was used to questions having to do with various diseases and naming various items of anatomy and so this question came out of the blue.  “I guess evil,” I said, uncertain of where we were going with this conversation.

“No, no, no!”  He said in reply.  “The enemy of good is better.  Never forget it!”

The problem is that as we imagine how our life situation or finances could improve, we rob the present of enjoyment.  Contentment is something that gives us everything without a major change in life circumstances.

The Apostle Paul said, “In everything give thanks…” (I Thessalonians 5:18)

The point is not that we give thanks for the suffering in our lives, although God can work even that for our good, but that we continue to count blessings, even on our darkest days.  Gratitude Lists are sure to lift our spirits, simply by shifting our focus from the things we lack to the innumerable blessings that pepper our lives.

Trouble in the Coop

 

“Dr. Waldron,” the lady sitting across from me said.  “I’m just so worried.  I’m having trouble sleeping at night.”

“Really?”  I asked.  “What are you worried about?”

“Well,” she said.  “It feels kind of silly to talk about, but my chickens aren’t laying many eggs these days.  They’ve been real good chickens for me – they’re Red Star Chickens – but I wonder if their days are numbered.  I just can’t afford to feed them if they aren’t laying eggs.”

“Maybe they are going into hen-o-pause,” I suggested.

“I haven’t heard of that,” she responded.  “Is that a thing chickens do, and do they come out of it?”

I am no master of chicken husbandry, but I did my best to assuage her fears.  “I’m guessing they are just molting,” I said.  “Egg production drops for a couple of months and then it picks back up.  I guess you’ll just have to decide if you are OK with fewer eggs for a month or two.”

She shook her head.  “Even if they start laying again, I can see the writing on the wall.  There will come a time when they stop completely and that makes me sad.  They’re such pretty chickens and I almost feel like we have a friendship.”

It was an unusual conversation.  Many people have deep sadness when a dog or cat dies, but few have deep spiritual connections with their chickens.  Still, anxiety leads to folks borrowing trouble from the future to put onto today’s already full plate.

Jesus told His followers, “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”  (Matthew 6:34)

The point of the proverb is not that tomorrow won’t have troubles and difficulties.  In fact, it probably will.  It just isn’t helpful to stress about them ahead of time.

When I was growing up, we had a food pyramid that purported to show what foods you should include in your diet and the amounts of each one – fats and oils were in a tiny triangle at the top and grains at the bottom. 

Apparently, this concept was too confusing for children of the 90s, because in 2011, the pyramid was replaced with “My Plate” which had sections for dairy, fruits, grains, vegetables, and protein.  Scientists thought this would be better at helping folks understand how they should eat (I don’t actually think it has helped – people eat the same whether they picture a plate or a pyramid).

The point really is that if we view our day as a plate with sections – work, play, sleep, and so on, the section that contains trouble (call it stress if you like) is already full.  Sure, you can stack more on top of it.  You could make a mini-sky scraper of your difficulties, causing them to tower above the other portions of the plate like Godzilla over Tokyo.  It will only succeed in making today miserable and won’t help tomorrow at all.

So far, this all seems depressing.  Every day will have disasters – small and great – and we’ll just have to struggle our way through them.

Jesus didn’t want this thought to depress His followers.  His was a call to joy and trust.  Our heavenly Father takes care of birds and flowers, can’t we trust Him to take care of us and our futures?

I will admit that I’ve had to back off the amount of time I spend on social media in recent days (that’s probably a good thing).  I have found it pushing me both to anger and anxiety and neither one of those is an appropriate emotion for someone who trusts his Father.

Of course, the things I worry about are much more important than whether or not molting hens will begin to lay again, but regardless of whether my anxieties are over problems in the chicken coop or a possible World War III, I can bring them to my heavenly Father and leave them with Him.  He loves me enough to take care of me, even if the very foundations of civilization are falling apart.

Carrot Mountain

 

“What did you children think of Parrot Mountain?”  I asked our two youngest children.  We had just meandered our way through a semi-tropical paradise complete with caged Toucans and Lorikeets near Sevierville.

"I LOVED it,” Elise said.  “The birds were awesome.”

"It was OK,” Victoria said.  She is always more measured in her willingness to give complements or to admit enjoyment (or distress) over some event in her life.

“I think I would like to start a place called Carrot Mountain,” I said.

“Can I come?”  Elise asked.

“Sure, once I get done getting it started,” I said.

“It doesn’t sound very exciting,” Victoria said.  “I think seeing parrots is more interesting than seeing carrots.”

“Oh, but you haven’t seen all of the carrots I will have.  I’ll even have special carrots carved to look like famous people.  I'm sure the one of Donald Trump will look just like him.  We'll probably even have carrots that look like the twelve apostles.”

“We don’t know what the disciples looked like so how would you know that the carrot looked like a one?”  Victoria asked.

“You would know by the label under the carrot,” I said. 

I still haven’t gotten around to starting Carrot Mountain.  It may be a great project, but I don’t quite have the bandwidth necessary to get this sort of project off the ground.

I do find the contrast between my daughters to be fascinating.  One is easily excited and easily distressed.  The other is a little less emotional – probably feeling things just as much, but not as quick to express her excitement and enjoyment.

Life is hard.  many of us (myself included) struggle to find joy in everyday things.  We get through the toil of today’s efforts like a Sherpa lugging a load from base camp to camp 2, striving on with the knowledge that tomorrow will only bring another slope and another burden.

“Neither be ye sorry; for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” (Nehemiah 8:10) 

It is amazing what strength comes to us as we experience joy.  Allowing ourselves the freedom to smile and realize that although there are dark clouds behind the silver linings, those clouds are under control of our Heavenly Father.

I pray that we might find that joy – a joy that provides strength in the midst of work struggles and political turmoil.  A joy that might even carry you through a trip to Carrot Mountain.

Reading at the Table

 

“Victoria,” Anna’s voice rang out over the general hub bub of our supper meal.  “You shouldn’t be reading at the table!”

Victoria looked up from the book she was reading – Beetles, Lightly Toasted – to make a face at her sister.  She slowly closed the book and put it beside her on the table.

Elliot piped up.  “Well, you read books at the table when you were Victoria’s age,” he said, with a voice full of accusation.  Clearly, Anna was putting a burden on her sister that Anna had been unwilling to bear at the same age.

“I tried,” Anna admitted, “but Mom and Dad wouldn’t let me.  They said I had to wait till after we were done eating to read a book.

I had to smile.  I suppose our family is a bit of a throwback.  In recent studies, only about 30 percent of families eat a nightly meal together.  The rate went up a bunch during COVID, but since life has returned to normal, people are back to running around and doing lots of activities and the end result is a more fractured meal time.

More than that, the idea of reading for fun has dropped considerably.  A number of surveys done recently have shown a serious decline in reading.  Kids under 11 read a bit more than other groups, but once Americans become teenagers, the amount of reading falls off a cliff, with only 14 percent of teens saying that they read for fun on a regular basis.

Lest I cast stones at kids alone, in a recent survey, a quarter of adult Americans admitted they had not read single book in the last year.  This includes print, electronic, and audio books.

I wonder why reading rates are declining.  Maybe it is just that people don’t have as much leisure time as they used to.  Maybe it is that folks fill what leisure time they do have with a mixture of movies, television, gaming, and internet usage.  I’m guessing it has more to do with what we do with our leisure time than that we don’t have any.

Much of what is served to us for entertainment is mindless.  It is easy to absorb, amusing, and requires little effort or thought.  After a draining day at work, who really wants to sit down a crack open a book to wade through its pages in search of something interesting or entertaining?

I do believe reading is still important.  It expands our minds and imagination, it adds to our vocabulary, and it even helps us to learn about ourselves and the people around us.  Roughly 80 percent of Americans believe that they should read more – they just don’t think they have time to do so.

I remember reading a blog where the author shared that he didn’t see Bible reading as a command of Scripture.  Technically, I suppose he was correct.  We are to study the Bible and meditate on its words, but for most of history, the idea of reading the Bible every day was not possible for most humans – most of them didn’t even own a copy of a Bible.

Since I am delving into statistics, only about 10 percent of surveyed Christians said they read the Bible every day. 

Once again, there are different reasons for this, but I am guessing that they are the same reasons that people aren’t reading books the same as in the past.  The Bible seems dry and boring compared to the latest Netflix offerings.  The words that shook the Roman Empire to its core two thousands years ago no longer shake Americans free from their focus on media.

I wonder if much of the angst about the world and coming election could be assuaged if the people of God would stop focusing so much on their phones and screens and instead would turn their attention to the promises of God.  Of all people, Christians should have joy, regardless of what is going on in the world around them.

Two thousand years ago, Jesus told His followers, “And when these things begin to come to pass, then look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh.” (Luke 21:28)

I wish more people would put down their phones and pick up their Bibles and begin to read.  That would be a blessing – even if they take them to the dinner table with them.