Bananas and Tomatoes

Just before the frost last fall, I went out to our garden. The tomato plants were on their last legs, but there were still many green tomatoes hanging on the vines.

One by one, I picked them and then brought them inside. I knew that the next day everyone of the plants would be dead.

I looked at the green tomatoes when I got them inside. There was not a trace of color on them anywhere. Still, there are a number of ways to ripen, even the greenest of tomatoes.

I carefully placed the tomatoes in a container and then, I placed two bananas with them. Over the next couple of weeks, I replaced the bananas once, while the tomatoes ripened.

You see, for tomatoes to ripen effectively, they require ethylene gas. Tomatoes themselves release some of this, but bananas release quite a bit more. Without this gas, they will remain green and generally unfriendly to the various dishes which call for ripe tomatoes.

Bananas release plenty of ethylene gas so that as they ripen, they spur tomatoes on as well. This is something peculiar to bananas. Put three or four kiwi fruits in with the tomatoes and you'll just have a mess on your hands in a couple of weeks.

It takes a special person to help others on to spiritual maturity. As I read through the New Testament, it seems that Barnabas, the son of consolation, was just such a person.

Barnabas nurtured Paul in the beginning, accepting him and accompanying him on his early missionary journey. It was he as well, who spent time with John Mark strengthening that young disciple in his faith.

It is easy to stand back and watch others stand or fall on their own, but God has called us to do more. We must be encouragers, lifters of burdens. We must help others on to spiritual maturity, just as bananas encourage tomatoes to greater redness.

Labor Saving Devices

Humans are always trying to figure out how to make hard things easy, or at the very least, easier. Back in the late 1700s, one of the hard things for farmers in the southern United States to do, was to pick seeds out of cotton. It was so time consuming, that few farmers actually grew much cotton.

Then, a man named Eli Whitney invented a labor saving device that he called the cotton gin. Over night, cotton went from an after thought to a major cash crop in southern United States.

There have been many such devices invented over the years. Things that have made things like sawing, washing clothes and other menial household chores simpler. Yet, in spite of all these inventions, the hardest things in life remain hard.

It is just as hard as it has ever been for a doctor to tell someone that they have cancer. It is no easier for a person to say the words "I'm sorry" and truly mean it. It is just as difficult to say "I forgive you," from the heart, as it was two thousand years ago.

While we humans have developed devices to take the place of our hands, there is nothing that can take the place of the heart. No amount of denial will remove the wounds and joys experienced within the human soul.

Modern psychology, in all its wisdom, is better at uncovering, than it is at curing. All too often, after the mind's river has been dredged, the corpses lie on the shore, simply to rot in a different place.

It is only as we approach God, slowly, in our quiet times, that we can understand. Hard things have to be hard, so that in our weaknesses, we might find God's strength.

There will never be a device to experience our deepest feelings or, make it easier to achieve our soul-desires. For, it is there, in our tear-filled darkness, far from technology, that we find our own, desperate need for God.

Heartburn

It came to pass, not long ago, that I went to a Mexican Restaurant with my wife and I did order a plate of food that caused my nose to run and my face to sweat. And I enjoyed it greatly.

A little while later, I found that my food was to me as Jesus’ words were to the disciples on the road to Emmaus. For, I found that my heart began to burn within me, or rather my esophagus did, which is much the same thing.

Shortly thereafter, I went to my medicine cabinet and searched and there I found Generic Antacids. And I took them with Much Avail.

I reflected then that heartburn might grant some benefit to Mexicans, but to me, I found it quite uncomfortable and something to be avoided.

Then, I began to recall the Words of Jesus and how they held power and the words of the scribes and Pharisees did not. The people had followed Jesus for these powerful Words. And how David had prized God’s Words more than his necessary food.

There are many Christians who have sat down to a feast of Real Doctrine and got up with a bad case of zeal for Building the Kingdom. Many of them did not enjoy it much at all.

In order to quench this fire, the doctors of the world prescribed the Antacids of Things and Good Deeds and most of all, Shallow Music. They did recommend as well, that these people stay away from God’s Word and from those who proclaimed it truly. And for them, there were provided churches that look very much like churches on the outside, but the words that those churches present are not the Living Word and the zeal is Lacking.

As for me, I will continue to search for food that wakes me up and Words that stimulate my spiritual desire for the Things of God. For, though they are hard to digest, these Words bring the best results in the end.

Kindergarten Graduation

Vince graduated from kindergarten this morning.  I have often wondered why children graduate from kindergarten.  It isn't as though they will be moving out on their own soon or, taking driver's ed, or even helping out with the household finances.  They are just moving on to first grade, after all.

It still seems like a big deal.  A time of very little people wearing caps and gowns (purple in Paoli) and walking across a stage to shake hands with the Principal.

I suppose it would be easy to make fun of kindergarten graduations as unnecessary.  No one will make it in life (or not make it for that matter) based on their kindergarten performance. 

The short walk for Vince across the stage, was more than that.  It was indicative of a long year of work --  not just school work, but effort learning to relate to other children, to communicate with his teachers, and to grow in so many other ways.

I remember telling the teachers that it would be OK if he repeated kindergarten, if he struggled too much with it.  The most important thing was what was best for Vince.

As he walked across the stage, I thought about the fact that he had gotten all As this year.  That good things are happening in his life, that I didn't know would happen at the beginning of the school year.

I know that God is good and that He is the giver of good gifts.  And a kindergarten graduation is a good time to remember how good He has been to me and to my son.

Fallen Corn

"It's our best garden ever!"  I told my wife, Elaine last summer -- sometime in June.  "We should have plenty of corn and green beans."

The garden did look good.  Corn stalks stood straight and true, pointing towards the skies, the bean plants were bushy and covered with blooms.

Then came June 26th.  A day of heavy rain, mixed with periods of 45 mile per hour winds.  When I got home from work, our corn plants were lying on their sides in the mud, while the bean plants looked disheveled.

As I looked at them, I was really upset.  So much work wasted.  Time that I would never get back had been sunk into these corn rows that looked like they might not bear much at all.  And it was as if I heard God's voice saying to me, as He said to Jonah so long ago, "Do you do well to be angry for the plants?"

"Yes, God," I said.  "Jonah hadn't done anything to bring his plant to be, but Lord, you know how hard I've worked this summer, planting and tilling and how hard Elaine has worked as well."

There was no answer and yet, I understood.  For, I was proud.  Proud of my work, of my effort, of my garden.  That was where my confidence lay.

All the while, it was God who brought about each seed's germination, God who sent the rain and the sun.  While I had taken the credit, He was the one who had made it grow.

It reminded me of a little boy I had heard talking with his dad.  "Now, Cody, I want you to share one of your candies with her," he said pointing to another little girl.  "Whose candy is it Cody?"

Cody looked at the candy in his sweaty little hand.  "It's God's candy," he said at last and gave it to the girl.  It was hard to give away his own candy, but once he knew it was God's it became easier.

I spent forty-five minutes straightening up the corn stalks and while I did so, I knew for sure that it's not my garden.  It is God's garden.  I'm just working in it.  And if He gives or, He takes away, still, I will bless His name.

An Unnecessary Surgery

It came to pass one day that a young man passed through the pillared entrance to my office, in need of an annual examination.  I spoke with him at length about his condition and then proceeded to examine him.

Upon completion of my examination, John resumed his chair.  "John," I told him.  "You are in excellent health."

John gazed upon my countenance for a few moments and then spoke up.  "Good," he said.  "I guess I won't need a hysterectomy then."

I paused for a moment, not quite sure how to respond and then decided that the best course was agreement.  "Yes, John," I said.  "No hysterectomy for you, Sir!"

Now, John was visiting me from a local group home, so I suppose it is understandable that he wouldn't have known exactly what a hysterectomy was.  It is perhaps unusual that he would have worried about his need for such an unknown surgery ahead of his Physical.

I think it is human nature to worry about the uncertain future -- particularly about things that probably will never happen, but that seem scary to think about.  It is still better to give all these things to God, who can more than deal with them.  For, while you never know for sure whether your surgeon may decide to make an extra boat payment with an unnecessary surgery, you can be sure that God will take you through it all.

Lucky Dog!

I was going through the check out line and carefully put several items on the belt.  I placed there some wrapping paper, a bow, and an anniversary card.  Then, I lifted a fifty pound bag of dog food so the cashier could scan its price.

The cashier looked at all of the items.  "Well," she said.  "Somebody's going to be a very lucky dog!"

I laughed with her.  It was coming up on my wedding anniversary and I already had a gift, but not a card, or wrapping paper.  My dog Zeus needs to eat too, regardless of the occasion.  I could see how it could be a reasonable conclusion to draw from my purchases.

It is really hard to draw accurate conclusions based on small bits of information.  Of course, Sherlock Holmes could tell how tall someone was and whether or not he liked Country Music based on a gum wrapper, but I cannot do the same.

Jumping to conclusions is a good way to stir up trouble.  In the end, the only way to know if a man has an awesome dog, or an anniversary coming up is to ask.

Dirty Feet

I'm not sure why, but when the temperature hits about fifty degrees, many children start to run around out of doors with no shoes.  It is a little odd to see my children running around with a coat and bare feet, but I guess that it works.  Perhaps they have a point.  I have heard many a statement about the amazing amount of heat you lose through your head -- never one about how much you lose through your feet.

Anyway, bare feet makes for dirty feet -- sometimes really dirty feet.  The other day, I was giving Elliot a bath and noticing his filthy feet, I said "Whose feet are really dirty?"

As quick as anything, he replied:  "Vince's!"

"No," I said.  "Your feet are really dirty, Elliot."

"No," he shrieked.  "My feet aren't dirty, Vince's are!"

I'm not sure why he was so offended that I should identify his feet as dirty, but he knew how to deflect the accusation.  All he had to do was to point to his brother's feet.

I can identify all too well with my three year old.  For, I am clean, but not all.  Yet, it does me no good at all to shift attention to my brother's problems, rather than deal with sin in my life. 

I have learned long ago that it is better to let your Dad wash your feet, than to go to bed with mud between your toes.

What Does Not Destroy Me

"What does not kill me, only makes me stronger."

I have read this statement of Friedrich Nietzsche many time.  It is even quoted at times.  I suppose it is brought up in an effort to make people feel better about the dire circumstances that they are experiencing.

The only problem with this statement is that it is patently false.  I can tell you that if you have the choice of getting pneumonia (a) after a hip replacement surgery, (b) after a severe case of influenza or, (c) when you haven't been ill for months and are otherwise healthy, you should choose (c).

Things that do not kill me can still leave me a lot weaker and more suceptible to injury or, infection.

Even in a non-physical sense, there are plenty of wounds that go very deep and are never healed.  There are things that while they do not kill, they still cut deeply into the spirit and psyche.

Nietzsche was of course coming from the perspective of the superman.  This was (a mythical) individual who could rise above all things and endure all things without fear.

My experience is quite different.  For, what I have found is that it is only by placing my future in God's hands am I able to trust that circumstances will not destroy me.  It is only with His strength that I can avoid falling.  For, the fresh wounds of today have a real tendency to become seeping ulcers, ready to break open at any point -- but for the grace of God and His healing.

Yard Signs

It is a time of year when signs start popping up in yards across communities in these United States.  These signs indicate support of a candidate running for prosecutor, or sherriff or, some other noteworthy office.

Obviously, these signs identify the owner of a particular yard with the name on the sign and I suppose, by default, as being opposed to that candidates well-esteemed opponent.

More than three thousand years ago, a man named Joshua stood before a group of Jews and told them "Choose you this day whom you will serve... but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."  In a sense, Joshua was putting a campaign sign for his God in his front yard.

It takes bravery to make such a stand, but in the end it is totally worth it.  For, Jesus has promised to honor those who honor Him.

Frozen

A couple of weeks ago, quite suddenly with a smell like wires burning, our hot water heater gave up the ghost.  For about twenty-four hours after that, the water coming from the faucets in our home had only one temperature -- two degrees above freezing.

I know this, because I elected to take a shower -- a quite courageous act that I'm sure none of my coworkers truly appreciated.  By the end, I looked much like Princess Anna at the end of Frozen.  Quite clean, perhaps, but chilled to the bone.

It certainly wasn't a very long shower.  The lack of warm water had a chilling effect on my ability to enjoy the experience.

I can tell you that I haven't thanked God for hot water many times in the past, but I have several times since we got our hot water heater replaced.

It is hard to count your blessings if you don't realize that they are blessings.  Sad to say, it is when I lose one that I tend to realize what a blessing it was.

I know that I never valued hot water until I was turned into a shivering ice cube.

I do now.

"Get well son!"

I stood in the hospital room, chatting with an older, somewhat confused lady about her medical condition and why she was in the hospital.  I finished and moved towards the door.  "All right," I said.  "Hopefully you continue to improve and maybe we can discharge you to home tomorrow."

"Is your little boy sick?"  Hazel asked me out of the blue.

I stopped, taken aback and wondering if she was asking about Vince, or Elliot.  "Um... no,"  I said.  "I think both of them are well.  What are you talking about?"

"What it says up there," Hazel said.  "Get well, son!"

I looked at the board where a nurse had written a number of goals for my patient.  And there in  the corner, she had written "Get well soon!" but sloppily enough that could be mistaken for a different word.

It is usually doctors who are accused of having bad handwriting, but obviously there are plenty of nurses who have their struggles as well.  Still, the goal of writing or, speaking is communication.

Sharing ideas, expressing empathy, or even giving criticism all requires words.  I am afraid that all too often the message behind the words is lost in their murkiness.

So, whether I am writing or speaking, I want to be clear.  I don't want any of my patients to wonder if I am addressing them, or someone's little boy.

The Art Master

My daughter, Anna, fancies herself an artist.  There is no telling how many sheets of paper she has filled up with her drawings.

The funny thing is that her younger brother Vince, likes to draw too.  But, what Vince likes to draw are copies of Anna's pictures.

They aren't terribly good forgeries -- I guess what you would expect of a five year old copying a seven year old's art work.  Yet, that's what he draws.

At the same time, it speaks to me of my influence.  Anna is no Rembrandt in her art or, a paragon of virtue in other areas of her life, but her younger brothers look up to her and emulate her behaviors, both good and bad.

Somebody follows you, watching the things you do...

Jesus is watching, maybe Barack Obama is watching, but I know for certain that many little eyes are watching the things I do.  I not only can, but will influence them to do right or wrong with each decision that I make.