Let there be light!

"And now," our guide told us.  "I'm going to shut off the lights."

I've never really figured out why guides on tours of caverns like to shut off the lights.  It is actually a lot harder to see the Stalactites and Stalagmites and frankly anything about the cave with the lights out, but at this point, Jill did exactly what she said she was going to do. 

"This," she said dramatically.  "Is total darkness!  We are deep in the earth and there is no light except what comes from the electric lights.  Does anyone know what would happen if you spent thirty days in total darkness?"

No one hazarded a guess.  I thought about mentioning that you would come out all pasty white, but I didn't think that was what she was looking for.

"You would go blind!"  Jill said.

"Oh," everyone gasped.  Apparently she had heard that without light the part of your brain that controls your vision would just turn off, never to be turned on again.  A high price to pay for living in a cave and not paying your electric bill.

This didn't seem right to me and so later on I did a little research.  I found out that this simply isn't true.  People don't go blind just from being in the dark, even total darkness.

What is true is that if you spend a long time in total darkness your eyes will get really sensitive to the light.  When you leave a cave after being in the dark for a very long time the light will really hurt your eyes.

I think about the time when Jesus came to earth.  Truly, it was a time of deep darkness -- one could almost say total darkness.  Into that darkness came the Light of Life.

The sad thing is that men and women in Jesus day did not love the light.

"And this is the judgment:  the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil."

Nothing has changed today.  People do not love the light.  It hurts their eyes.  It exposes their dirtiness and the areas where they don't measure up.  They would rather stay in the cave in the dark.

At the same time, we need the light.  We were made for light.  We need it for Vitamin D.  We need it to see and regain our focus.

That is why, God wants to reach down into the life of each one struggling with darkness and say one simple phrase, "Let there be Light!"

The Language of Elliot

"Gurrrtl Mummit," Elliot said, making some very odd guttural sounds in his throat as he did so.  "Does anyone know what that means?"

"It means you have something stuck in your throat?"  I hazarded.

"No, Dad," Elliot said.  "It means 'Hooray Christmas!' in Elliot language."

"Oh," I said.  It is a bit strange to live in a household where there is a special language that is spoken and happens to be the only place in the world where that tongue is spoken.  Maybe Elliot can marry a Wycliffe Bible translator some day who can learn to speak it as well.  I have a feeling that by that time he will have moved on to something else.

At the same time, I don't know of the benefit of a language spoken by only one person.  To me, the whole point of language is for communication.  Compared to languages like English, Spanish, and Mandarin Chinese, Elliot, the language, is tiny and fairly useless, except to aggravate siblings.

Fortunately, Elliot speaks English too.  His parents and other random people can speak to him in something other than Elliot-talk.  This is awfully handy, as there are probably fifteen other languages I would probably rather learn to speak than Elliot.

As I think about it, every person on this planet is important to Jesus and every one of them needs to know the blessing of His life and sacrifice.  This is true if they speak English, or a dialect spoken only by 862 members of a tribe in the Amazonian rain forest.

Languages are for communication and there is nothing more important than sharing the message of God's love with others.

Even in the weird guttural language of my seven year old son.

Christmas Music

It is the time of year when stores across this great land of ours break out CDs of Christmas Music.  Or maybe, being the 21st century, they have something connected to a Pandora or Apple Christmas Channel.  Regardless, you have but to walk into a shopping mall or store of just about any kind to hear a type of music that you don't commonly hear in July.

(That's probably for the best).

As weird as it is, I actually like a lot of Christmas music.  I just don't like the type that is played in shopping malls this time of year.

So many of the songs played at this time of year are experiential.  They talk about things that the song writer feels at this time of year.  Building snowmen, riding in sleighs, and eating "Christmas foods" (like chestnuts) are all common themes.  Some song writers delve into the things they are missing -- family, snow, or just simply "a man friend."  All of those themes feel more than a little shallow to me.

It probably is clear that I like older Christmas songs.  I like Christmas songs that speak of Christ's birth  and what that means.

The Messiah is even dusted off this time of year and performances are given in a variety of venues.  For anyone who doesn't know, The Messiah is an oratorio composed by George Frederic Handel in 1741 with the libretto being passages from the Bible that speak of Jesus and His work.  The first part deals with prophecies of His birth as well as the birth itself, while the second and third parts speak of his death and second coming.  It always seems as though those second and third parts get short changed in the shortened versions that are performed this time of year.

(Just so long as they get the Hallelujah Chorus in).

Christmas songs are emblematic of our societal problems.  Whether it is cutting Jesus out of the season entirely or, just keeping Him an infant and ignoring His death and suffering, our culture wants to marginalize the Savior of the World.

Who can be surprised at the darkness we see around us, when we have hidden the Light of the World?

I pray that this year we would hear the whole of the Messiah.  Not that we listen to the three hour oratorio, but that we read the Bible and try to understand who this Jesus really is. 

Knowing Him makes all the difference between living a shallow existence and living with purpose.

Clear Vision

The lady siting across from sighed a little.  "I hope this is that last surgery," she said.

"I would think so," I said.

"The eye doctor's don't really give me hope of regaining vision in my eye," she said.  "After all of these surgeries, they just are trying to save the eye itself."

"That has to be hard," I said.

"You know," she said.  "I did get a little tearful when they told me that.  But last time I was here, you prayed with me and I have a lot of other people praying too and my God is big enough to heal my eye -- or to take care of me if it isn't healed too."

I was silent and she continued.  "I was reading about Fannie Crosby and how she lost her vision at a really young age and went on to write songs like "Blessed Assurance."  I thought to myself that she was able to bless people even though she was blind.  I need to think about how I can bless people around me and not focus on how well my eyes see, or don't see."

I was challenged by this little encounter.

The question really isn't whether God is big enough to take care of the things I face.  Of course He is.  The question is really about focus.

The days in which I focus on the things I lack are filled with discouragement.  The days I don't focus so much on myself, but rather look for ways that I can help others and "be Jesus" to them are filled with blessing.

I want to walk each day with this knowledge firmly in my mind. 

This lady, with only one good eye, had far clearer vision than most of us with a working pair.  Truly, she blessed me that day.

Thanksgiving

"Dad," Vince asked me the other day.  "Why is Thanksgiving in November?"

It's a good question.  Most of it has to do with Presidential edicts which initially (under Abraham Lincoln) established Thanksgiving Day as the last Thursday in November and later, under FDR switched it to the fourth Thursday in November.  The "first Thanksgiving" in Plymouth, Massachusetts was actually held in October, not November at all.

But of course, the Pilgrims didn't do Black Friday Sales either.

Regardless, the point of Thanksgiving is held in the word "thankful" and not in the timing of this holiday.  It is a time to count blessings and remember how grateful we are for the good of the last year. 

November is the time where harvest is in.  Most of us aren't farmers any more, but it is the time of year when those who make their living from the ground know whether it was a good year, an average year, or a year in which they will have their crop insurance agent on speed dial.

I'm not sure how good the harvest was this last year -- it probably depended on which part of the country you live in, but I trust that all of us can be grateful, even if it was not as plentiful as we'd like.

God is good.  He is just as good in times of want as in times of plenty.  The question is simply whether or not we can see His goodness when times are rough.

It is clear when we read of the First Thanksgiving in Plymouth Colony that the men and women who held this feast suffered much through their first year.  They had eked out a meager existence in this new land.  More than one third of their population had died that first year.  There were more new graves in the colony than there were pies at the Thanksgiving meal.  None of them knew if they would make it through the next year. They still knew that God was good.

A grateful heart thanks God for who He is, not just for what He has done.

This Thanksgiving I pray that we will spend time, not just in counting blessings, but in putting our hearts into a state of gratefulness.  Let us not focus so much on what we have been given but more on who is doing the giving.

This is the only way we can take Thanksgiving out of the fourth Thursday in November and pull it into the rest of the year.

Kidney Stones

The older man sitting across from me shrugged.  "I guess it passed some time on Sunday," he said.  "I've had them before, but I can't say I ever look forward to the experience."

I glanced down at the papers I had printed off.  "Looks like it was a 4 mm kidney stone," I said.  "Pretty amazing that something that small could cause so much pain."

"I hope it's awhile before I have to go through that again,"  he said.

Kidney stone pain is one of the more uncomfortable things a person can experience.  As I thought about it, I wondered what the difference was between labor pain and kidney stone pain.  Is one more intense than the other?

I have experienced neither one of these glorious things personally, although I've helped plenty of mothers in labor and seen other folks who felt like they were passing a bowling ball through their ureters.  Google wasn't my friend either and didn't seem to have any conclusive answer as to which pain is worse.

Peppers have a Scoville Scale to rate their spiciness, but the closest thing we have to a pain scale is the one where nurses ask you to rate your pain on a scale of one to ten.  Not very useful when a lot of folks out there wish that this scale went to eleven.

Clearly the biggest difference between kidney stone pain and labor pain is in the end result.  No one ever keeps their kidney stones, names them, or is happy at their passing -- except that it results in relief of pain.  On the other hand, labor ends in a crying baby and announcements far and wide about the new life that has entered the world.

It seems to me that this is a perfect metaphor for the differences in how a nihilist and a Christian experience pain in their lives.  The nihilist believes that suffering has no purpose.  It is to be avoided at all cost and demonstrates only that the Universe is a cold, unfeeling place.

On the other hand, the Bible tells us that "...we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us." (Romans 5:3-5)

Everyone will experience pain at some point.  The question is whether suffering proves to us that there is a heartless Universe or a Loving God behind the things we experience.

For me, it is clear that there is a Master plan at work in my life, even when I don't know all of the details of it.  God loves me and that's enough to see me through whatever pain I may face -- even kidney stones.

Autumn

Autumn is here.  There have been hundreds (maybe thousands) of poets who have written odes to its splashes of crimson and brilliant yellow leaves.  Every aspect of Fall has probably been explored in one way or another.

It doesn't change the fact that it is beautiful.

Looking out of the windows of our home, I see the colors of the woods that surround us.  I can see clearly that there is loveliness in every season and Fall is no exception. 

This is God's plan.

After having lived through forty-three Autumns (I can only remember about thirty-nine of them), I know something else.  This season won't last.

The reds and yellows of the leaves will soon be replaced by bare branches and mounds of brown leaves in my yard that someone (hopefully my children) will need to rake into piles.  Autumn's beauty is only for a season.

This too is part of God's plan.

I am afraid that all too often I miss the beauty of the season I am in.  In my mind I think it will be around for longer, or I am just looking forward to the next season.  It's awfully easy in the middle of winter to wish for spring, but the most joyful people are those who can enjoy the season they are living in at present.

This is true for more than just the weather and the leaves.  Most of life is characterized by seasons.  There are seasons of school and having children and eventually, maybe even having grandchildren.  The most important thing is to treasure today and see the beauty of the present rather than wish for what tomorrow holds.

It will arrive far sooner than we like.

Twelve Men

 

"Twelve men went to spy out Canaan," Victoria sang to the members of her family sitting around the campfire.  "Ten were bad," and then in a voice somewhere in between a shout and a shriek she sang "TEN WERE BAD!!!!"

As if to prove that this was no mistake, she sang this line of the song again in exactly the same way three more times -- each one to the increasingly loud giggles of her brothers and sister.

At two, Victoria is awfully cute when she sings and she can't be expected to remember all of the words to any song.  It is unfortunate though that she didn't remember that while ten of the spies were bad, two were good.

The song tells in simple language the story of how Moses sent twelve spies into the land of Palestine to search out the land.  Ten of the men came back with stories of the mighty men and cities that they would face and how the whole affair was hopeless.  Joshua and Caleb returned with a glowing message of how wonderful the land was and how God would give them victory.

Mark Antony, when giving his long speech about the recently killed Julius Caesar said "The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.  So let it be with Caesar."  It is our human tendency to remember the darkest moments -- the defeats of the past rather than remembering brighter times.

We need to learn from the dark events of the past, but if those are the only things that we focus on then we are bound for despair.  We must remember as well the good times, the times when God brought us through the Red Sea, gave us water from the rock, and Manna from the sky.

It is those things that will keep our faith strong, those victories that will keep us from giving up.

Twelve men went to spy our Canaan.

Ten were bad.

But...

Two were good.

Apple Butter

Three Bushels of Apples.  Three Bushels of delectable, honey crisp apple seconds, complete with soft spots and other "defects."

I stood, paring knife in hand, whittling the core out of one.  "Yow know how many bushels Wayne's family got?"  Elaine asked me, as she poked at a kettle of simmering apples with a long metal spoon.

"Twelve bushels," I hazarded.  12 bushels sound like a lot of apples.  Four times as many as we had gotten and I had been paring the cores for quite awhile.

"No," Elaine replied and then distractedly said.  "Elliot, please give that to Victoria.  I'm sorry, Victoria, Mom's working on apples right now and they are really hot."  Our children somehow haven't figured out the meaning of the word 'share.'

"How many did they get?"  I asked.

"Oh, twenty bushels," Elaine told me breezily and then lifted a pot full of steaming apples off the stove.  "Anna, do you went to help turn?"

Twenty bushels seems like a lot.  Three bushels left us with 40 plus quarts of apple sauce and 14 quarts of apple pie filling.  At the end of it, Elaine took six quarts of the strained apples and put them in a crock pot with various spices and cooked them for the next eighteen hours.

This is apparently the new way to make Apple Butter.  It doesn't involve any fires or big black kettles, but at the end, you have an aromatic, tasty (if you like apple butter) substance that you can spread on a variety of gluten filled options.

A couple of years ago we had decided to make pear butter.  We had gotten a bushel of pears that weren't much good for eating and so we made pear sauce.  Then we did a crock pot recipe for pear butter.  The only thing was that it called for black licorice and when it was finally done, it was pretty much inedible.

Spending 18 hours in a slow cooker doesn't change the ingredients, it only intensifies their flavors.

I have heard it said that adversity doesn't build character, it reveals it.  The things that we did, the choices we made long before we ever got into those situations will decide the sort of person that is demonstrated when we are in the pressure cooker of life.

After eighteen hours, a pot of apples does not magically turn into a pot of kale, nor would a pot of black licorice laced pears turn into a lake of chocolate fondue after a similar period of time of cooking.    In the same way, the man I truly am will come out on the days when life is its most stressful.  Everything else is just a facade.

Apple Butter.

Pear Butter.

Kale Stew.

When stress comes to call, which one are you?

Name Tags

"Dad," my son Elliot asked me.  "Why don't you wear your name tag around?"

I stopped collecting the dirty plates from the table and thought for a little bit.  I have a name tag that I wear at the office.  It opens the back door there and lets me get around the hospital when I visit there, but I don't wear it around my home.

Of course, there is another reason that people wear name tags.  "Elliot, you already know my name without a name tag, don't you?"  I asked him.  "And more than that, my name tag doesn't say on it 'Dad,' but 'Dr. Waldron' and you don't call me that either."

Elliot pondered this for a little while.  "I still wish you'd wear your name tag here some times," he told me.

I've never particularly liked name tags.  They are the sort of things that gets used when you are with a large group of people who you don't know and who don't really know you.  At a medical convention, a tour group, or something else along those lines you have these tags that say something like,  "Hi, my name is:  John," and allow others to pretend a level of familiarity with you that they don't really have.

It strikes me that when we come to God in prayer we don't wear name tags.  I don't typically even identify myself to Him.  God knows my name without my telling Him.  He is familiar with my struggles and my strengths and weaknesses better than I am.

More than that, God doesn't wear a name tag either.  Of course, He could.  It would say something like "God of the Universe," or "Jehovah Jireh," or something equally impressive that would let me know how important He is and how I shouldn't waste His time with trivialities.  All of that would be reasonable for Him to do, but He doesn't.

Instead, He gives me permission to call Him Abba Father and to talk as long as I want to.  Its not because of who I am, but because of who He is and His great love for me that I can come to Him in this way.

Because when there is relationship, you just don't need a name tag any more.

Just a Little Light

Darkness has settled over portions of this country.

Hurricanes Irma and Maria hit Puerto Rico, leaving devastation in their wake.  Harvey set up shop over Houston and wrecked havoc on that city.  Now, this week, a gun man opened fire on a crowd in Las Vegas, causing the deaths of over fifty people.  On the other side of the Pacific, North Korea is rattling its missiles.  Nate is brewing in the Gulf of Mexico.

It is easy to feel abandoned and forsaken in a time like this.

One of my patients told me that she had to stop watching the news because she couldn't sleep afterward after seeing so much chaos and evil.  I understood completely.

Humans are never blinded by the light, only by the darkness.

I like to take pictures and there are many things that make up a good photo -- a pretty subject, leading lines, and good composition among them, but one thing is necessary for any photo, light.  You can't take a picture of a black cat in a coal mine at midnight and have it turn out, however nice your camera and lens may be.

At the same time, even on the darkest of nights, there are lights to be seen, twinkling through the atmosphere.  Last night, the Harvest Moon floated, shining above the landscape.  Even in the solar eclipse, we look, not at the darkness hiding the sun, but at the rim of light surrounding the moon.

The prophet Jeremiah lived through and saw some horrific things as he saw his people devastated and his culture almost destroyed by the Babylonians.  In the midst of this, he penned a book of poetry called Lamentations, weeping over the loss of Jerusalem.  These are some of the saddest words in the Bible.

Then, in the exact center of this tiny book, come these words "The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."

We will see what we look for.  If we are looking for the shadows, we will see them, for they are there all around us, but if we are looking for God's light, we can find it too, even in the darkest place.

So I pray that we may have our eyes opened -- not to see the darkness more clearly, but to see the light.

A Merry Heart

"Dad," my son, Vince, asked me. "Why don't fleas like it when dogs go to their circus?"

"I don't think that's the way you told this joke earlier," I said.  Vince had discovered a book called Stupid Jokes for Kids and had delved into it the way a diamond miner tackles a hole in the ground in South Africa.

"Because he'll take all the fleas with him when he leaves!"  Vince cackled with the hilarity of this joke.

"I thought," I said.  "That the joke was 'What happens when a dog goes to the flea circus?' and the answer was 'He steals the show.'"

"That's what I said," Vince told me.  "What do you call a band who kill germs?"

"I don't know," I said a little resignedly.

"The Bleach Boys!"  More cackling.  Even Victoria was giggling.  Apparently she thought Vince was the funniest nine year old out there.

I don't think any of my children have futures as comedians.  For one thing, they can't remember jokes at all and standing up, reading from a joke book is not generally entertaining.  For another, they have no sense of timing.  That's OK -- there are plenty of careers which don't involve standing on a stage trying to make people laugh.

The sound of children laughing uproariously can get old sometimes, but I still hope that they will keep merry hearts and a love of humor.  The Book of Proverbs says that "A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones."  It really makes a difference when we are surrounded by others who keep a sense of joy about them, even in the darkest moments.

There is a time and place for everything and certainly there are times when joking just isn't in order.  Even in those situations, hope and joy can often make a difference to lift the spirit when the worst of news has just been delivered.

I know that my children's sense of humor will change over time.  They will not always think that "What did the Bee get when he stole the calendar?  Twelve months," is funny, but I hope they will be able to see the humor in every day situations and laugh -- even at themselves.

Sometimes the only thing that will heal a wounded heart is joy.

Fatigue

"How are you today?"  The older woman asked me.

"I'm pretty tired," I said.  "Otherwise I guess I'm fine.  And how are you?"

"Well," she paused.  "Frankly, I'm pretty tired too."

I think tiredness is part of the adult condition.  I'm sure there are a few wealthy souls who sleep nine hours every night, never waking up until their alarm clocks go off to invite them down to a leisurely cup of coffee and southwest omelette.  They certainly don't come to see me at my office.

My patients are often convinced they have thyroid conditions.  If you google "Medical Reasons I'm tired," I think that must be the first thing that pops up.

In medical school, I was convinced I had leukemia and even made my mother (who is a family doctor) run a CBC on me to make sure I didn't have it.  I was just so tired.  Fortunately, I knew that once I was done with my residency training things would get better.

Think again...

My experience is that when you are an adult and you have children you are always a little fatigued.  I live on six hours of sleep a night and often that is broken up by a mixture of phone calls and the occasional sick child.  I didn't know how good I had it back when I was twenty-one and could sleep as long as I wanted to on weekends.

There are many Scriptures that speak of strength in the face of adversity, but one always stands out to me, "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."  (Gal 6:9).

This summer, because we were moving, we did not plant a garden and we have no harvest.  While others are picking their tomatoes and watching their pumpkins turn orange, we are thinking about next year and the things we hope to plant.

Everyone of us will get tired -- maybe from working on our gardens, or taking care of our children when they have stomach bugs at night, or even delivering babies.  The question is whether the things which we are investing ourselves in are good and worthwhile.

Only then will our harvest be worth reaping.

Joel Osteen

Joel Osteen entered the news again a couple of weeks ago.  For those unfamiliar, he is a pastor of a church in the Houston area.  He is best know for writing a book that espouses the idea that you can live "Your Best Life Now."  Apparently after Hurricane Harvey moved into the Houston area, there was a period of time where he didn't offer his church as a haven for flooded out refugees.  As one can imagine, this became a twenty-four hour discussion on Facebook and other social media platforms.

I hesitate to say anything about that situation.  Certainly it would have been difficult from a logistic standpoint to not only open the church, but also to get staff and support in to care for the people in need.  Certainly in the end, the church was opened to the displaced people of Houston.

I think people struggle with Joel Osteen for a number of reasons.  It isn't that he is worth 40 million dollars or, that he feels just a little fake as he shares his messages with adoring fans.  The problem is that his message doesn't connect with most of us.

The bigger problem is that his isn't a Christian message.

I have read the Bible through many times and Pastor Osteen is right that the Bible says clearly that God loves us.  What he is totally wrong about is that a loving God will give His children whatever they want and ask for.

I'm not a perfect dad.  I have my struggles, but I love my children very deeply and because I love my children, I do not (and never would) give them everything they ask for.  Even if I had the money and space for all the stuff they want, it would be harmful for them to have everything that popped into their heads to want.  It would not be healthy for them to eat dessert first and forego green beans in exchange for potato chips.

God's Word makes it clear that He is a far better father than any earthly father could be and as such, He give us good things, but He also gives us hardship and trials because those are the things that build our characters and draw us closer to Him.  If I pray for a million dollars He probably won't give it to me, not because He doesn't love me, but precisely because He does.

Looking back at the apostles and great people of faith over the years, they often were quite poor and yet they constantly gave of themselves.  I can't imagine Paul or Peter praying for wealth except that they might help others with it.

I know that God has blessed us with many more things, both physical and spiritual, than we deserve.  In the end, He wants us to desire something more than this life and the things this world has to offer.  Even if we had millions of dollars, we would be empty if we didn't have Him.

Truly if we hope and pray and chase fame and wealth, we may find a little bit of them in our lives here, but we'll miss the far more important things that God wants us to learn.

It is easy to pray for God to bless us and our families, but I think such prayers are a little shallow.  I would learn to pray for God to make me the sort of man who can bless those around me and to draw me close to Him.  That is the only place where I will find true satisfaction.

Irma!

Hurricane Irma is coming barreling towards the Florida Coast like an octogenarian who has just discovered that her neighbor is cheating at bingo.  Her wrath has already wiped out dwellings on Antigua and Puerto Rico and now Florida is apparently in her sights.

The news reports are full of stories of the devastation that Irma is capable of and it is not surprising to see images of traffic jams on I-95 going north from Miami.  Structures built by humans just don't feel safe in the face of sustained 150 mile an hour winds and many inches of rain.

I suppose it is in times like this that we realize where our faith lies.  If our confidence is in buildings, in governments, or even in our own wisdom and resources then a Level 4 Hurricane headed our way will shake our very foundations. 

A story comes to my mind of a group of men who were out in a boat on the Sea of Galilee when a storm blew up.  This was in the days before outboard motors and GPS units and in their tiny craft they were out matched.  The winds and waves were just too strong.  Their skill was not enough to bring the boat ashore and they were in danger of drowning.

It was in this moment that they woke a sleeper.  "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" 

I'm not sure what they expected Jesus to do, maybe sympathize and join their terror.  Maybe they just wanted another set of hands to help bail the boat out.  What He actually did was to get up and rebuke the storm and all was peaceful.

There are many things that we humans put our trust in, but they all have limits, except for Jesus.  When everything is falling apart and Irma has come to call, we need a secure place to stand and someone trustworthy to place our faith in.

Many of the storms we face are never given a name, but Jesus has power over them all.  It is only with Jesus that we can have peace and make it through to the other side.

Why?

"It's terrible!"  Anna wailed.

"It'll be OK," I said.  "There are another 179 school days this year."

"You don't understand, Dad," Anna said, between her tears.  "The first day of school is always the best.  You don't do very much work and it's always so much fun."

It was the first day of school and Anna had awakened with a stomach virus, unable to keep anything down.  Clearly school was out of the question.

"It'll be OK," I said futilely. 

"You just don't understand!"  Anna said, bursting into tears again. "Why, oh why did I have to be sick today of all days?"

Why?  It's the sort of question that usually doesn't have an answer.

My experience is that we seldom ask the why questions about the good things that befall us.  I suppose we believe in our hearts that we deserve good things and that God really should shower us with blessings.

On the other hand, it is when terrible things happen that we break out this question.  A mass shooting, a child with cancer, or a family member in an accident seem to bring this question to the minds of many.

The problem is the underpinnings of this question.  It is really asking "If there is a good God who could prevent bad things from happening, why didn't He?"

As I search through the Bible for answers, I do not find them.  God does not reveal His thoughts to humans nor His plans to those who could not understand them.

What He does reveal in His Word are promises of suffering and persecution for the People who God has chosen, but He tells us more.  As I continue to read, I find promises of a God who will not abandon His people.

The road is hard.  We will not know the "Why?" behind many of the events that happen to us.  We can only know for certain that at the end God is waiting to welcome His people home.

And that's enough.

Totality or Bust!

 

"Totality or bust!"  The caption on the back of the GMC Jimmy read.  "See you in the Smokies!"  Apparently someone was taking the solar eclipse fairly seriously.

Judging by the traffic moving on Sunday afternoon, a lot of other folks were in the mood to see the sun blocked by the moon for about two and a half minutes.  Of course, it's pretty easy to block the sun.  I did it just the other day with my hand, I think you could use a piece of paper, and every evening, around sun down, the earth itself blocks the sun from our eyes -- what I like to call a "terrestrial eclipse."

Now, for those who have lived through a "terrestrial eclipse," they will tell you that it is a sight to see.  It gets much, much darker than during your standard solar eclipse, the stars come out, and sometimes you can even see a full moon visible.  In addition, no special glasses are needed to look at the sky during it.

I suppose all of this begs the question "What is the significance of objects coming between the sun and the earth?"

In the ancient times, when people worshiped the sun it was a big deal.  The sun was getting sick and that spelled death and destruction within the realm.

These days, we understand all sorts of things.  We know that the earth goes around the sun and that the moon goes around the earth.  We know that solar eclipses are a spectacle to be marveled at through NASA approved, cardboard framed solar glasses.  We know that the end of the world may be coming, but not because of the eclipse.  We know that the traffic after a solar eclipse makes it feel like the end of the world.

I think of all of this and it comes to my mind that this is very much like our relationship with God.  He is our sun and the One on whom we depend.  At the same time, there are times when it feels as though there is darkness between us and Him.  There are periods when our prayers seem to go no farther than the ceiling.

It is easy in these moments to believe that God is truly distant from us, that He no longer cares and has abandoned us to the whims of an uncaring Universe.

Nothing could be farther from the truth.  Instead, it is only on our side that He can't be seen.  On His side, He continues to shine as brightly as ever and He still hears and answers our prayers, regardless of how "high" we think they are going.

In the midst of the darkest eclipse we can know without a doubt that God is still there and He has not changed one iota.

The darkness, however deep, is only temporary.

Herod the Great

"And now," said our guide.  "We are going to go aaaaaaaaaalllll  the way to Caesarea!"

As we drove north of Tel Aviv, he proceeded to tell us a little about the countryside we were passing through and then as we approached Caesarea, he told us more about that city.  "This was the new port that Herod the Great built to replace the old port of Jaffa.  It was a modern city when he built it, a Roman city.  It was the place where the Roman governors would rule from later on."

He went on to tell us more about the place we were about to visit, but one man's name became a theme:  Herod the Great. 

I had thought when we visited Israel that we would see a variety of sites, some from the time of Jesus, some maybe from the time of King Hezekiah, and some older, dating to the times of King David and Solomon.  More than anyone else, though, Herod's impact is still seen.  Whether it is Caesarea, the Temple Mount, or the Masada, the things he built remain -- at least to a certain extent.

Herod built cities and palaces.  He spent vast amounts of wealth and time building these and to what purpose?  I suppose to leave a legacy.

At the same time, when you travel to the places where massive stone structures were erected, all that can be seen now is rubble.  In some places, the modern Israelis have set up pillars that had fallen over with the passage of time and reconstructed walls from the rubble -- enough that one can still judge the greatness of these works in their day, but little else.

It reminds me a little of the poem of Ozymandias, by Shelley.  "Look on my works, ye Mighty and despair!"  Ozymandias is telling the mighty to despair because of the vastness of his works, but the reality is that they need to despair because none of his works survived.

Herod's legacy is found more in the stories of his cruelty and his bitterness.  Not the sort of thing that a few walls in the desert can cover up.

It seems as though many of the "great" men in history tried to build things that people would remember them by.  Large homes, huge tombs, and various buildings have been left behind, even as their names are largely forgotten.

It strikes me that another king who lived at very much the same time as Herod the Great has left a much bigger legacy.  Jesus Christ built nothing that we can see today, wrote nothing personally, did not even own His own home -- and yet, He impacted more lives than anyone else in history.  It was the way He came and lived and the way He died that speaks to us.

None of us will probably leave behind us huge monuments as a legacy or even vast sums of money for our heirs to waste in frivolous ways, but that wouldn't mean much anyway.  Far better to live each day as Jesus did, loving people who won't appreciate it and giving our all for them.

How people remember us is dependent not on what we build, but on who we are and who we follow.

From India?

"So," the lady said to me.  "I heard you're from India?"

"Well, close," I answered her.  "My family actually moved to the area from Indiana."

"Oh," the lady said.  "I thought you talked awful good for someone so far away."  She paused.  "And I heard you're a Mormon?"

"I'm a Mennonite," I replied.  "I guess both of those do start with the letter 'M,' though."

I suppose I am the talk of Brookneal and there have been more than a few conversations about the new doctor.  But this one highlights one of the problems with gossip.  For, something that begins with a factual story can turn into a fanciful tale that is only partially related to the truth.

More than that, gossip is a sin that is dangerous, not only to the person being talked about, but also to the person sharing the "news."  It is just awfully easy to go from sharing honest information to the place where we are saying hurtful things about a person.

Our words and thoughts should always begin with love.

It is easy to think that this is a small town problem, but the truth is that I think all of us struggle with this at one time or, another.   At the same time, God doesn't appreciate it when we share juicy stories about others, even if they are completely true.

Much less if we are repeating stories about the new Mormon Indian who is currently seeing patients in Brookneal.

All Roads Lead to Rome

"Dad," my son, Vince said to me.  "Sometimes people say things that aren't true."

"I suppose that you are right," I said.  "What were you thinking of?"

"People say 'All Roads Lead to Rome,'" Vince answered me seriously.  "But the only way to get to Rome from here is by boat or airplane.  So, I don't think any of our roads lead to Rome."

"Maybe they are just saying that if you drive far enough in any direction your cell phone will go to 'Roam' mode," I suggested.

"You're just joking," Vince said and moved off to think about something else (probably what the saying 'There's more than one way to skin a cat," actually means).

Of course, the saying references the glory days of the Roman Empire.  In that era, distant lands were linked by Roman roads that ran straight through swamps and high mountains, taking the trade and armies to the furthest reaches of the empire.  But if you went far enough along any of them, they would eventually lead you to the center of the empire, Rome.

People who use this saying are really saying that there are many different paths that end up at the same place.

This simply isn't true.

There certainly are a lot of paths that end in the Mountains of Disaster and only one that leads to the Vale of Victory and the heavenly city that lies beyond.

I have heard it said that it is far better to choose your destination first and then pick your road than to pick your road and hope it ends someplace worth visiting.  All too often, people would rather choose a road where the entrance ramp looks nice and their friends are all going on it.  This is really dangerous.

Not all roads do lead to Rome.

Just ask Vince.

An App for Airline Anxiety

As we boarded the plan on an eight hour flight to Europe, I looked at the other people who were settling into their (almost) comfortable seats.  They were breaking out travel pillows and nonchalantly putting noise cancelling head phones on.  Few seemed to be dealing with much anxiety, although truth to tell, humans are pretty good at hiding these sorts of nervous feelings from those around them.

Elaine had downloaded an app before we left called "Am I Going Down?"  It purported to tell you the chance that your plane would crash on the way to its destination.  Taking a Boeing 767 from Dulles to Vienna gave a chance of 1 in 3,912,617 of crashing, as per this amazing app.  In other words, you could take that flight every days for 10,719 years without going down.

I suppose that this sort of an app is supposed to reassure the folks using it, although I wonder if anyone who is truly afraid of flying would actually be calmed by this odd, little program.  For anyone like me, flying still seems a pretty unnatural activity, regardless of what a computer program might say.

Sometimes when something always happens according to plan it becomes routine and we cease to appreciate the amazing nature of it.  At the same time, people of a hundred years ago could scarcely have imagined an eight hour trip between Austria and Washington D. C.,  much less have imagined that such a journey would become routine.

We need to have our eyes opened -- not to see unseen angels, but to recognize seen miracles.  I pray that we might see not just the miracles of modern technology, but also to see the wonders that the Almighty placed in nature that happen just the way that they are supposed to every time.

They don't happen that way because they have to, they happen because God is just that great.

Letting People Know

It was four hours into our ten hour flight from Vienna to Washington D. C.  Vince was looking at a book about butterflies.  I was watching Elliot squirming and thinking that it was about time to walk him down the aisle to give him (another) bathroom break when I saw the flight attendants coming down the aisle to pick up food trays.

Anna was sitting across the aisle from the boys and me.  When the flight attendant came to her, Anna handed her tray to the lady and then handed her a piece of paper.  The woman unfolded it and then gave Anna a beaming smile.

I knew without seeing it what that paper was. 

Anna has taken to writing little notes to cleaning staff at hotels, waitresses, and other sundry folk telling them that they are doing a good job and thanking them for it.  It clearly makes a difference.  People seem to light up more than they would from a twenty-five dollar tip.

I suppose it is something that I think about a lot.  It is a blessing to find someone who says thank you.  It is a joy to see a child who sees a thankless job that is overlooked and is grateful for it -- and then proceeds to let others know.

I know that over the past several months, my family and I have been abundantly blessed.  People have given to us until our cup has run over.  They have helped in so many ways that I cannot begin to share them all.

I may not be able to draw a picture of you (that is recognizable as a human) or do anything else in recognition, but I am still grateful.  God has blessed me in so many ways through others, there is just one thing I can say as I think about it.

Thank you!

Teaching an Earthworm to Swim

I came upon Vince and Elliot (my sons) studying a little glass with some water in it.  "What are you doing, boys?"  I asked them.

"We found this worm," Elliot told me.  "And now we are teaching him to swim!"

"Really," I said and looking closer saw the poor earthworm floating in the water.  "How is he doing?"

"Not very well,"  Elliot said.  "But maybe he will figure it out soon."

I never followed up to see if Mr. Earthworm ever learned to swim, but I doubt it.  It probably would be better to spend time in designing earthworm sized flotation devices than teaching them to swim.  It isn't in their nature and physical capability to do so.  They were created to burrow in the earth and that is what they do really well.

Perhaps it seems like a different subject entirely, but this is the same reason that we humans struggle to be good.  Ever since the Fall in the Garden of Eden, our nature and hearts incline towards darkness and sin.

It is for this reason that Jesus came and died.  He came not only to atone for our sins, but also to create in us a new nature, capable of serving God the way He desires.

Without that changed heart, we are incapable of learning to be righteous before God.

You may be able to teach the world to sing, but you can't teach an earthworm to swim.

It needs a change in nature, not just a change in knowledge.

Knowing Everything?

"Dad, I'm really not into birds any more," Vince told me a few days ago.

"Really," I said.  "Why not?"

"It's just that I know everything about them -- at least for the birds in North America," he replied, very seriously.  "Now, I need to learn about wildflowers."

It is a little funny when an eight year old tells you that he knows everything there is to know about birds (or any subject for that matter).  I suppose what he means is that he has exhausted the information found in the field guide to North American birds that I gave to him a few months ago.  He certainly has studied it a lot over that time.

One of the things that growing up fixes is that feeling that we know everything. 

I think that I knew the most when I was in sixth grade.  I knew all of the state capitals, had a decent concept of history, and could do long division, fractions and even diagram sentences.  I knew there were a few gaps in my knowledge base, but I was sure that within a couple of years, even those would be resolved.

Flash forward thirty years and I have finished college, medical school, and three years of residency.  I take a lot of continuing medical education.  The one thing I am sure of at this point is that I don't have complete knowledge about any particular subject. 

That's more than OK, because it would be an awfully small world in which I could know "everything," even about a relatively small field like Birds of North America.

The reality is that this world is bigger and more intricate than human thought is capable of imagining and beneath each layer of answers is another set of questions.

Just like the God who made it.

A Word Fitly Spoken

"Dr. Waldron, do you remember what you said to me the first time I came in to see you?"  The lady sitting across from me asked.

I tried to think back to something I might have said, but nothing popped into my head.  I have so many conversations with people every day (and probably talk a little too much) that I often don't remember specific things I say.

"No, I'm sorry I don't remember," I told her.

"I think I was telling you about some shoulder pain I was having and you said 'Now remember, you've never been as old before as you are today!'"

It does sound like the sort of thing I would say and the sort of statement you might find in a fortune cookie too, but I still didn't remember it.  It still strikes me how the words we say make impacts on other people.

There have been many times in the last few weeks where people shared with me things that I said to them when they were going through dark times that helped them. 

It is easy to believe that only actions are important and that words are relatively unimportant in life.  And yet, with words we can encourage another, add humor to lift someone's spirit, or even share areas in someone's life that need changing for the better.  Of course, on the other hand, those same words can tear down.

Each day, we have opportunities to touch other people's lives and hearts.  We may not remember the things we say for long, but others may still be carrying those words, for good or for ill, for many years into the future.

Let us always speak them for the good of others.

"A word fitly spoke is like apples of gold in a setting of silver."  (Proverbs 25:11)

Saying Goodbye

I pulled up my schedule on the computer and looked at it.  On the left were patient names and to the right were the reasons for their visits.

I scanned over them and a couple jumped out at me.  One was woman in her thirties and the other was a man in his nineties, both coming in for the same reason.  "Just wants to say good-bye to Dr. Waldron."

It is hard to believe that there is only about a week until I am done seeing patients at Comprehensive Health Care -- a place where I have practiced medicine for the last sixteen and a half years.  Our family is moving to Virginia to get closer to family, but part of my heart will always reside here.

I didn't know much about southern Indiana when I came to visit seventeen years ago, but over the time since, I have grown to love its beauty.  Whether it is the sun poking its head above the edge of Patoka Lake at Jackson Boat Ramp, or the same sun setting behind the Pete Dye Golf Course, or a misty morning at Tucker Lake, there has been more than enough to keep my eyes filled with the beauty and my camera busy.

But that's not really what I'll miss.

You see, a community is made of people and when you are a family doc, you have the privilege of walking beside people in that community through hard times and seeing them come out the other side.  You get to be present for a baby's first cry and for a 90 year old's last breath -- and lots of other stuff in between.

The biggest challenge, I suppose, is being a little light in the darkest of situations.

All of that is to say that I will miss the people of Paoli.  The crotchety old men and the sweet old ladies, the children who scream when they see me and the ones who give me hugs when they leave -- all of them have a place in my heart that won't be lost. 

Even now, I pray for them -- for each one of them.  I'm not one of their parents, but I care and that won't change just because I'm moving away.

As I leave Paoli, I have a lot of pictures of the beauty around here, but more important is that I have a mind that is full to the brim with the memories of laughter and tears and prayers shared with wonderful people who let me into their hearts more than just a little bit.

It is the people who make a community -- not the splendor or grandeur of its scenery.

It is them that I will miss.

The Best Thing About Heaven?

"You know one of the best things about heaven?"  My son, Vince asked me.

""What?"  I replied.  I know a lot of good things about heaven, but Vince's mind doesn't always come up with the same sort of things that I would think of.

"Poison Ivy and Poison Oak won't make us itch in heaven!"  Vince answered, very seriously.

"Oh," I said.  I've heard discussions of whether or not dogs and cats go to heaven, but never whether or not there will be poison ivy there.  I guess I always just thought it wouldn't be.  Just like ticks and mosquitoes won't be there either.

But Vince is right.  If there is Poison Ivy in heaven, it won't make us itch.

There were many effects of the fall in the Garden of Eden and most of them have to do with nature working differently than it was intended.  Insects carry diseases and bite and sting us and certain plants make us itch.  Lots of other things have changed and none of them for the better.  Disease wasn't a problem before then and now it clearly is.

In the book of Revelation, Jesus speaks of heaven and says "Behold, I am making all things new."  (21:5).  Maybe this is speaking of completely new species of plants and animals, but to me, it is more a statement of a re-creation of what Creation was first intended to be -- a place of beauty, peace, and perfection, a place where everything goes according to God's plan and there is no sin.

That is what heaven is to me.  While I don't know the names of all the plants that will be there, what I do know is that everyone of them will serve its purpose perfectly.

Even Poison Ivy (if it really is there).

Helping a Song Sparrow Sing

"Dad, I saw a Blue Bird nesting today in the little bird house," my son Vince told me, seriously.

"Be careful not to disturb them," I said.  "We want them to be OK raising their babies there."

"Dad," Vince said.  "Birds don't have babies, they have fledglings.  People have babies."

"Oh," I said.  I haven't used the word fledgling for awhile.  I guess I'll start now.

"When I was walking out there," Vince told me.  "I saw a Song Sparrow.  I gave him a compliment."

"Really?"

"Yes, I told him that his song was beautiful."

Now, I don't know how much English Song Sparrows actually speak and I am sure that it makes no difference at all to them what an eight year old boy says about their song.  They sing because that's the way God made them.  At the same time, it is a blessing to share a compliment with someone.

I suppose it is one of those things that some people are better at than others.  It starts with noticing something that is well done or seeing someone who made an extra effort with something.

What you don't notice, you won't compliment.

It shouldn't stop with seeing.  It must then result in us bringing attention to it in a positive way.

I'm afraid that it is awfully easy to miss areas in our coworkers and children's lives that deserve encouragement.  It is even easier just not say anything about things we do see than to say "Good job!"

It is so worth sharing the positives we see in those around us.

You never know when someone is having a bad day and is just ready to give up, sure that no one notices how hard they are working or, the effort they are putting in.  Your compliment could lift their spirits and keep them going.

Or help a Song Sparrow sing extra well.

Who knows?

Helping Birds

"You really like birds, Vince," his Aunt Amy said to him.

"Yes, Aunt Amy," Vince said looking up from the bird book he was studying.  "Birds are so beautiful.  I am glad that God created them.  And many of them are helpful too."

"Do you want to be an ornithologist when you grow up?"  Amy asked Vince.  This is perhaps an odd question.  Must eight year olds think they want to be firemen or astronauts when they grow up, but Vince is more focused on wildlife.

Vince considered the question seriously for a few moments.  "Well, Aunt Amy," he said.  "I think I would rather help endangered birds.  I would like to help them so that their habitat is not lost and they do not become extinct.  I will never see a Passenger Pigeon and that makes me sad."

"Would you like to help birds like the Whooping Crane?"  I asked, curious about this endeavor.

"No, Dad," Vince said.  "I am not interested in helping the Whooping Crane.  It is endangered, but I would rather help birds like the Greater Prairie Chicken, which used to live around here.  The Whooping Crane does not live around here."

Amy laughed.  "Well, I guess that makes sense," she said.  "You should focus your resources on things you can really change."

I don't know what Vince will do when he grows up, but right now his desire is to try to restore wetlands and meadows for the birds he loves to see and study.

I am struck by his focus on the birds that he thinks he could help.  Birds that live in the Midwest, rather than those in the Brazilian rain forest are reachable for him.

It is awfully easy to focus on those in need who live far away.  There are starving children in Africa and people contracting mosquito borne illnesses across Central and South America and we should give liberally to try to help their needs, but we must not ignore the people in need in our own communities.

It starts with seeing needs, but it needs to go from there.  To see the need is a start, but then we need to make the attempt to meet it.

Because the easiest people to impact are those we come in contact with every day, just like the easiest birds to help are those who live close to us.

Like the Greater Prairie Chicken.

A Doctor's Most Important Skill

It was just a few weeks ago that I took my Family Medicine Boards again.  It's a test that is supposed to see if family doctors know all the stuff they are supposed to.  You don't need to take the test to practice medicine, but you do need to do so to claim to be "Board Certified" (which I am currently and hope to remain).  The test isn't easy and I think it is probably best at sorting out which doctors are willing to take time to read and study and stay current on medical developments.

Unfortunately, I am afraid that Board Exams aren't very good at discerning who are the good doctors out there.  There is one skill that I believe is the most important one necessary to diagnose a patient.  It is the ability to listen well.

Perhaps such a skill is natural in some people, but it can be developed in anyone.  Paying attention to a person's face, watching their hands, and listening, not only to what they are saying, but also to what they aren't saying, is crucial to learning what is really going on.

Listening does two things.  The first is that it helps a doctor learn the diagnosis.  Most patient will tell you the important things about what is wrong with them without a whole host of questions.

The second thing is even more important.  Good listening lets the other person know that you care and that you will work with them to get the best care for them possible.

Good doctors don't need to know everything about every disease and illness -- there are books and specialists to consult for tough situations -- but they need to get the important information to get a patient to the right place to get them better.

I know I can do better, but it is my goal to listen and to hear the messages that my patients share with me.

Because listening is where it starts.

Evicting Peeps!

"How have your sugars been doing, Linda?"  I asked the older lady sitting across from me.

"Well, I will tell you the truth," she said, a little sheepishly.  "I got some marshmallow Peeps last week and I opened the package to let them get just a little stale."

"So, yesterday, I went in to check on them and they were just the perfect amount of staleness!" (I heard in her voice the sound of a wine connoisseur describing a fine vintage).  "I just couldn't help myself!  I ate the whole package, all ten of them!"

"I guess it isn't surprising, but my sugar was 263 last night," she finished.  Then, almost defiantly, "But I think it was worth it!"

I suppose it goes without saying, but marshmallow peeps are not on any diabetic diet that I've discovered to this point.  Their nutritional value is actually less than zero.  And yet, for those who like them (I am one), they are a definite temptation.

People with diabetes probably shouldn't buy food that will push their sugars in the 260s.  What is in your cabinets will eventually be consumed (barring a Peep Burglar breaking in to steal them).

I suppose it is pretty obvious, but each one of us struggles with different temptations.  For many, the thought of eating ten peeps is a nauseating one, bordering on torture.  For others, it is something that is difficult to resist.

Still, I have found it easier to resist eating the Peeps at Walmart than in my home...

Obviously, there are a lot worse temptations out there than marshmallows and sugar.  So often, the beginning of victory over temptation is simply the realization that something is a temptation that is too hard to resist.  The next step is to avoid it.  Giving it room in our homes is merely the beginning of defeat.

Time to evict those Peeps from the cabinet!

"You Know Me!"

The older man was sitting in a chair when I walked into the exam room.  I had heard him coughing from outside, but when I walked in to the room, he lit up.  "I sure didn't think I would see you today," he said.  "I thought you was gone."

"No, not yet," I said.  "I hope it doesn't disappoint you that you aren't seeing someone else."

"Of course not," Paul answered quickly.  "You've been taking care of me for years.  I suppose you could probably fix me without my saying anything.  You just know me!"  He finished, as though that summed it all up.

As I sat down and started talking to him, I realized that he was exactly right.  I do know my patients.  I remember things from the past, both medical and non-medical.  That makes a huge difference.

When someone knows you, you don't have to explain yourself.  You don't have to tell the whole back story or narrate how you felt in the past, because they know.  They've been there with you before.

I think that is one of the most amazing things about prayer.  You are opening your heart to Someone who knows you. 

David said, in Psalm 139, "O Lord, you have searched me and known me!  You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar." 

You don't have to explain yourself when you are talking to God.  He knows where you are coming from and where you are headed.  He understands it all and more than that, He wants the best for you.

It is better, even than seeing a doctor you've known for sixteen years, to open your heart to One who knows and cares about you, who will never leave you or forsake you. 

In my darkest hours, He is the one I have always turned to and He has never let me down. 

He just knows me.

Whales and Earthworms

"What was your Bible verse for Sunday School this morning?"  I asked Vince and Elliot, who are currently in the same class.

"It was 'And God created great whales," Vince told me seriously.

"No, Dad, Vince is wrong, it was 'And God created little earth worms,'" Elliot said and began to laugh hysterically.

Well, perhaps strangely, it turned out that Vince was right.  In fact, there isn't a verse like the one Elliot quoted.

At the same time, we know that God did create giant whales and tiny earth worms -- and everything else we see.

It is fortunate, as well.  Any gardener will tell you that they would rather have 50 earth worms in their garden than a thousand Blue Whales.  (Now that would be a mess).

God created all things with a purpose, even you and me.  The important thing isn't our size, beauty, or intelligence, it is whether we are fulfilling that purpose that the Almighty has set for us to do.

A Lack of Gray

"But Mom," Vince wailed.  "I can't use it now."

"There are other colored pencils you can use,"  Elaine told him.  "Why don't you color a picture that doesn't use gray?  We will sharpen it when we get back home."

"But I need to color this picture," he said.  "It is a picture of a Slate Gray Junco and it is very beautiful, but you cannot color it without a gray colored pencil!" 

Clearly this piece of advice had done little to assuage Vince's upset feelings.  The absence of a gray colored pencil was the most important thing to him on our next to last day of vacation.

I had to think about how many times the little things in life upset me.  It's not colored pencils (I haven't gotten on board with the whole adult coloring book craze), but there are plenty of other little speed bumps that can make the difference between my day being smooth or hard.

I suppose the problems really have more to do with me and my selfishness.  When I am too focused on myself and my perceived needs (that is to say my wants), then anything that disturbs those things is bound to upset me.

At the same time, when my focus is on Jesus and others, it is far easier to take things in stride.  At the end of the day, I will be more satisfied when my focus was on serving others than on having everyone in my path cater to my wants.

I often wonder about how Jesus dealt with crowds and multitudes constantly following Him and pressing into His personal time and space.  It had to be pretty hard at times and I am sure He was physically exhausted, but He also loved everyone of the people following Him and that made all the difference.

Love really does make the difference, even enough (maybe) to let you weather the storm of a broken, gray-colored pencil.

"You Forgot"

It was a sunny, sleepy afternoon and Elaine and I lay down for a nap.  This is not an uncommon occurrence on weekends when I am on call.  Even doctors get tired...

At some point, during our attempted snooze, a dark figure in a trench coat surreptitiously wandered down the hallway to our bedroom door.  It looked both ways and then crouched down, slipping a scrap of paper beneath the door before darting back down the hallway to begin studying about birds again.

So it was that half an hour later, Elaine discovered on the floor of our bedroom a cryptic message, written in pencil.  "You said 'I would make cookies on Sunday' YOU FORGOT"

That was all.

Of course, Elaine hadn't forgotten, she had just decided that such a project could wait until after a nap, but Vince was sure that she had.  He had waited enough of the afternoon for the promised cookies to appear and when they didn't, it was time to take matters into his own hands.

In the course, of time, Vince did get his cookies.  Chocolate chip they were, gluten-free, and tasty enough to satisfy an eight-year old's appetite for sweets.

The Bible is full of promises as well.  Some are good, promises of strength and victory, and some are promises of coming judgment.  It is awfully easy to read those and believe that God has forgotten at least some of what He has promised.

Second Peter says that "The Lord is not slow to fulfill His promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance."

In the midst of discouragement, it is tempting to thing that God remembers us no more.  That He doesn't care and that we are on our own, swimming against a current that threatens to sweep us over a waterfall that would make Niagra look like Hindostan Falls. 

Nothing could be farther from the truth.

God is faithful.  He doesn't forget His promises and when He says things like "I will never leave you or forsake you," that's just what He means.

If there is one important thing, it is to remember that God has a plan and that nothing can shake that plan for you and me.  And nothing will shake Him up or make His plans for us come to naught.  That's awfully comforting when it feels like things are falling apart.

Or when chocolate chip cookies don't appear at the right time on a Sunday afternoon.

"Bossy Anna!"

"Vince, don't talk with food in your mouth!"  Anna said, her voice a little muffled from the spaghetti she had in her own mouth.  "It's just not polite!"

"Anna, stop bossing me!"  Vince shouted back -- still with plenty of pasta filling his own cheeks.

And from the high chair across the table came Victoria's high-pitched, clear voice "Anna, stop bossing me!"

Victoria has picked up a lot of phrases things like, "Good idea," "Just a second,"  and the words to "Jesus Loves Me."  Now, she knows the phrase "Bossy Anna!"

It isn't that we have been intentionally teaching her most of these things.  She just picks them up.  Clearly we say them more than we realize.

Back in 1993, the famous philosopher, Charles Barkley notoriously said "I'm not a role model.  Just because I dunk a basketball doesn't mean I should raise your kids."  Which meant, in other words, "I don't want to be a role model," nothing more or less.

Regardless of his wishes, there were lots of young men who were following his moves, on and off the basketball court, and trying to emulate them.  The same is true for the rest of us as well.

There are many who follow in our footsteps -- friends, brothers and sisters, or our children.  They pick up more than phrases we say, they learn behaviors, actions, and attitudes.

I do pray that my children and others around me might learn good things from my life and godly behaviors.  I didn't sign up to be a role model, but I am one, like it or not.

Let the things others learn be Christ-honoring things.

Not just "Bossy Anna!"