The Master "A"

 

The concert master strode on to the stage.  The applause of the audience rose up, and he turned towards the audience and bowed briefly.  Then, turning back towards the orchestra, he pointed to the oboes where the principal oboist began playing an “A.”

Each section listened carefully and then began to tune.  Brass, woodwinds, and strings all heard the same note and made certain that their instruments were tuned exactly right.  This done, quiet descended on the stage and the concert master seated himself, waiting for the arrival of the conductor.

Tuning is really important.  The problem is that if an instrument is tuned a little higher (sharper) or lower (flatter) than the rest of the instruments around it, the end result will be discordant.  Beautiful sections of music with multiple sections of the orchestra playing in unison would sound off, without the clear, unified tone that is expected by the audience.

In relationships, tuning is important too.  So often, a husband and wife are tuned completely differently and as a result, the music that comes out of their marriage is discordant and full of tension. 

The couple can sense this, and they know it isn’t right.  The problem is that typically their solution is to believe that their spouse should simply tune their life to match up with their tone.  “If only you would focus yourself on me more and be more like me,” they say.  “Our lives would be great.”

So, who is the oboe in the relationship?  Who sets this master tone that everyone else needs to match themselves too?

The secret of the orchestra is that the oboes don’t set the master tone.  These days, oboes use an electronic device that lets them be certain that they have their “A” tone set exactly correctly.  It is only after they have tuned themselves to the master that others can then tune themselves to them.

The Apostle Paul said, “Be ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ.” (I Corinthians 11:1)  Paul was a godly man – someone who had lived his life focused on his Master and yet, even he, wanted to be certain that those who came behind him focused not so much on him and his life, but on the one he was following.

In much the same way, relationships work best when each one of us tunes ourselves to the Master.  It is not that my wife needs to tune herself to me, but rather that both of us focus ourselves on Jesus, listen to his clear tone and follow that. 

The goal is that the music that comes forth from our lives and from our family, be music that flows with beautiful melody and harmony.  That can only happen when we center ourselves around the true master tone.

Thanksgiving Day

 

What am I thankful for?

The question bounces through my mind and I immediately begin to think about my prayers.  I often mention to God things that I appreciate about my life.  The weather seems to factor prominently.  Apparently, I am extremely blessed by sunny days with pleasant temperatures – this, even though I don’t often think over much about them until it comes time to pray.

I am also thankful for the family that God has given me.  Once again, this is despite the fact that I often feel frustrated with my children’s behavior and wish they would just “grow up already.” 

I am thankful for “traveling mercies” and the ways in which I am divinely protected as I drive on the busy thoroughfares of this mighty nation in which I live.  Once again, I may mention this in prayer, but when I am driving, I’m seldom feeling thankful, just pressed for time and perhaps anxious about all of the crazy people guiding vehicles (poorly) around me.

(May God's kingdom usher in the time of self-driving vehicles.  Amen.)

The Apostle Paul told the Thessalonian Christians, “In everything give thanks.”  This seems like good advice, and I think most Christians somehow think this means that we are to have at least two or three items per prayer for which we thank God.  The easiest way to do this is to carry a little bag of things that we are always thankful for and open that at the beginning of our prayers and trot those out so that God feels better about Himself and doesn’t think we are just after getting our petitions answered.

It seems likely that we are called, not to say thank you (although certainly we should be willing to do that too), but to live thankful lives.  People who are living lives of gratitude do more than periodically list things they appreciate about their lives.  Lists are good, but it seems to me that they fall short of the Biblical imperative of joy.

Joy is one of the hardest fruits of the spirit to bear.  Joyful people feel the love that is behind the gift – even when gift falls short in some way.  Behind the “frowning providence,” they see God’s smiling face and realize that there is blessing to be found, even on a journey through suffering.

I wish I could say that I have mastered this, that unlike all of those frowning Christians around me, I am truly living a life of thanksgiving, but I struggle as well as anyone with seeing the clouds and missing the silver linings.  I find myself counting worries and not blessings and even my gratitude lists ring hollow with things I know I "should" be thankful for, but that I seldom think about these things until I break them out for Thanksgiving.

Maybe this is a time of year to commit again to living a joy filled life and to realize the amazing blessings each one

of us has been granted.  For grace comes pouring down from above to let us know our Heavenly Father’s love – even in the chaos of a department store the morning after Thanksgiving.

Cosmo and Reading

 

 

“You know what Cosmo was doing this morning?”  I looked around the dinner table to see if any of my family knew the answer to my question.

“Probably nothing,” Elliot guessed.  “He just lies around and sighs every so often.”

“Wrong,” I said.  It is true that Cosmo sighs a lot.  I’ve never figured it out why.  Dogs have the nicest lives and yet, they do sigh as though they are longing for Dog-topia.

“He probably had the zoomies and was tearing around the downstairs,” Victoria guessed.

“No, not that either,” I said.

“I give up,” said Vincent.

“He was studying Elise’s first grade, “Learning to Read” book,” I said.  “He really seemed like he was making good progress on it.”

“Cosmo’s a smart dog,” Victoria said contentedly.

“He’s smarter than Elise,” Elliot said.  “But that’s not saying much.”

“I think he’s trying to fit in,” I said.  “He knows the rest of his family reads and so he wants to be able to do so as well.  I’m going to get him his own special copy of ‘Go, Dog, Go!’ and maybe some of the Clifford books too.  I’m sure he’ll enjoy them.”

“Maybe if you get him ‘Call of the Wild,’ he’ll run away and join a wolf pack,” Elliot said.  That, I must confess, seems unlikely.  The chance of a wolf pack letting in a Golden Doodle, much less letting him lead the pack seems slim to none.

Reading is an amazing thing.  You can do it for the enjoyment factor and you can do to learn things and often for both of those things.  It saddens me to realize that about fifty percent of Americans hadn’t read a single book over the last year.

I suppose I fall in the minority, because I read 114 books last year and 82 books so far this year. 

Of course, in another era, the majority of people in society couldn’t read.  It is estimated that probably around 5 percent of the citizens in ancient Israel could read.  Quite simply, when you are expending all of your energy simply to scratch a living out of the desert soil, sitting down with a mystery novel or a biography was furthest from any of their minds.  Beyond which, there weren’t scrolls to be found most places other than the temple.  Copies had to be made by hand and were very few and very expensive.

Even in that time, they understood the importance of internalizing the Torah.  Moses told the people, “And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up.  And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes.  And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates.” (Deuteronomy 6:7-9)

The pages of the Bible are full of wisdom.  There are stories there for learning and most of all to know and understand how we can approach God.

It is said that Martin Luther had one of the greatest impacts on the worldwide education level.  It wasn’t because of his break with the Catholic church, but because he translated the Bible into German and desired that those who spoke the German language would be able to pick it up and read it for themselves.

Perhaps it is dangerous to think of people reading the Bible for themselves.  Maybe they will twist its meaning and come up with ideas that aren’t orthodox.  Then again, maybe they will read and understand a little better who they are and who God is.

If my dog can learn to read and better himself, then so can you!

Six Bushels

 

“I think it’s time,” I said.

Elaine looked at me quizzically.  “Time for what?”  She asked.

“Time to get some apples,” I replied.

Of course, we have apples in our house a lot.  Most grocery stores sell them and as long as you don’t purchase Red Delicious Apples – those masqueraders that look great but often are anything but crisp when you bite into them – you’ll probably be fine.

Typically, at the end of October or beginning of November we travel to an orchard and purchase apples by the bushel.  So it was that we made our way through the highways and byways of Nelson County to the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

I had made up my mind.  Six bushels is what we would buy.  Many for eating, but some for making apple sauce.  Four bushels of Pink Lady Apples and two bushels of Golden Delicious Apples is what we ended up taking home with us.

As we drove back, I thought about the meaning of this “pilgrimage.”  It took time and beyond that, the apples weren’t free.  I thought they were better than the ones at our local supermarket, but were they that much better that it was worth driving over an hour to get them?

Of course, humans invest their time and money in all sorts of things.  Some people spend their time getting good at playing video games, while others learn how to grow and make flower arrangements like a professional.  Most people spend a decent amount of time simply holding their nose to a grindstone for enough coins to keep their family out of the poorhouse.

Jesus talked about the things having the most value as being the “Kingdom of Heaven.”  “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking goodly pearls: who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought it.” (Matthew 13:45,46)

I am convinced that many of the things we invest our time, talents, and money in have little long-term value.  That doesn’t mean that it is wrong to do these things, but other things should have a higher priority for us.

The merchant in Jesus’ parable realized that all of the other things he owned were less valuable than this “pearl of great price.”  Once he discovered this, it was no pinch to sell them to gain something greater.

We would do well to consider this.  For there are things we can invest ourselves in that will hold their value even longer than six bushels of apples from the heart of Nelson County.

Adopted!

 

“Mom, I want a younger sister!”  Elise was as definite in stating her wishes as a six-year-old can be. 

“No, Elise,” Elaine said absently.  “You aren’t going to have a younger sister.”

“Well, even a brother…”  Clearly, a brother would be second best, but Elise would tolerate this for the possibility of having a younger sibling.  It is hard being the youngest in the family and with a simple decision on her parent’s part, she could immediately join the ranks of “older children.”

“Not even a brother,” Elaine said, with little thought.  This wasn’t the first time this request had been placed and each time it had been shot down as easily as a sushi order in Texas Roadhouse.

“I think we should adopt Michael or his younger sister Emma,” Elise said (names have been changed to protect the innocent). 

“But Michael and Emma have loving parents,” Elaine protested.  “They don’t need adopting.  Usually, when you adopt children, it is because they don’t have parents or the parents can’t take care of them for some reason.”

“What about Mia?”  I asked.  “Would you like to adopt her?”  I’m not sure why I asked.  Mia also has loving parents and no need of the Waldron’s home as a shelter from a life of homelessness.

“No,” Elise said flatly.  “Mia is too bossy.  She would not fit in here at all!”

So, the conversation went.  Elise was certain that there was some child that went to church with her or school with her who would benefit greatly from getting adopted into our home, while her parents were just as certain that this wasn’t going to happen.

The Bible speaks of our entrance into the family of God as an “adoption.”  “For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God.  For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.” (Romans 8:14,15)

This is not a situation where we were living in a well to do, middle class family when suddenly a classmate offered us the chance to be adopted by her family.  Rather, we were destitute, homeless, and without purpose when God, through His great mercy reached down and offered us a place in His family.

I suppose it would have been enough for Him to offer us a position as a servant – carrying in firewood or polishing the silver, but instead, He offered us something far better.  The Hebrew term, Abba, is a term of endearment and trust.  It speaks of relationship.

Even though we did not deserve it, our Heavenly Father made us co-heirs with Jesus.  He adopted us into the best family there is or could ever be, the family of God.

"Lo"

 

“I wonder how much I weigh?”  My daughter said.

“The scale’s right there,” I said.  “Have at it.”

Somehow, ten-year olds have less trepidation stepping on a scale than those of us who can look at a picture of brownie and somehow gain half a pound.  Something changes in the human metabolism around age 30 and things are never quite the same.

“That’s weird,” Victoria said.

“What?”  I asked.  “Are you gaining weight?”

“No,” she answered.  “At least I don’t think so.  The scale just says, ‘Lo.’”

“Sounds like our scale has gotten judgmental,” I said.  I stepped on the scale myself, just to see how it would respond to my larger size.  Once again, the fatal word showed up, ‘Lo!’

“I guess the scale thinks we are malnourished,” I said.  “Double portions of dessert tonight for supper for everyone!”

“It’s just saying that the batteries need to be changed in the scale,” Elaine put in. 

“Back in my day,” I said.  “Scales didn’t have batteries in them.  They had a dial and you stepped on them and the dial went up to whatever number your weight was.  That is, except for the scale at my mom’s office – that one had weights and you had to adjust them up or down to see how much people weighed.  We probably need a scale like that.”

"I think we can just change the batteries in the scale and it will be fine," my beautiful wife put in.

And she was right.

As I thought about our scale, I came to the conclusion that this sort of scale would be exactly what most people want.  Much like the evil queen in snow white wanted a mirror that claimed she was the "fairest of them all," we don’t really want a scale to tell us how much weigh – we want a scale that tells us that we look great.

It is exactly this sort of thing that people look for in prophets.  King Ahab went to his prophets to ask advice about whether he should go to war.  400 prophets showed up and with one voice told the king exactly what he wanted to hear.   Israel would win a decisive and brilliant victory.

King Jehosophat seems to have wondered a bit at these prophets and asked if there wasn’t another one around who was a prophet of the Lord.  “The king of Israel [King Ahab] answered Jehoshaphat, “There is still one prophet through whom we can inquire of the Lord, but I hate him because he never prophesies anything good about me, but always bad. He is Micaiah son of Imlah.” (I Kings 22:8)

The prophet, Micaiah, did contradict all four hundred of the other prophets.  He predicted Ahab’s death and Israel’s defeat – much to the scorn of the other prophets there.

Four hundred to one the yes-men outnumbered him and in the end, Ahab and Jehosophat went off to war together.  In the fierceness of the battle, an unnamed archer shot King Ahab in the joints of his armor. He propped himself in his chariot, watching his forces suffer defeat and there, in his chariot, he bled out and died.

We want prophets to show us an easier way – men and women who will tell us that the hard things of the Gospel aren’t really needed.  Jesus may have “talked” about giving up all to enter the kingdom, but He really meant that we need to pray and read our Bible and like a few things on Facebook and in return He will reward us with all the material things we could dream of.

Somehow, when I read the Gospels I find a different message.  I find a narrow road -- one that requires giving up all to enter and one that requires total surrender to follow.

We need prophets who tell the truth – people who speak truth into our lives, even when that truth hurts.  For, we need scales that tell us honestly how much we weigh, even if we would rather simply have one that simply reads, ‘Lo.’

Anxious About Oxygen

 

“NASA reveals earth is running out of oxygen!”  The headline drew my attention.  This certainly sounded concerning.  Humans need oxygen to survive.  That's why people who submerge themselves too long under water, usually have an appointment with a mortician soon thereafter.

And now, I find out that the whole earth is running out of oxygen!  I must confess that I have worried about a number of things, but running out of oxygen had somehow not made the list.  Maybe it was time to add it.

Being the anxious sort of person that I am, I clicked on the article to “find out more.”   As I opened the webpage, I discovered that scientists had used computer models to predict when a “great de-oxygenation event” would transpire.

Of course, there are a number of different variables in play.  Still, these NASA folks are certain that 1 billion years from now, the oxygen in the earth’s atmosphere could drop to ten percent of what it is today.

I breathed an oxygen-rich sigh of relief.  1 billion years is a long time – not quite as long as my eldest daughter’s showers, but still long enough that I didn’t feel overly anxious about this coming crisis.

It is the way of things on the internet to make things sound as dramatic and devastating as possible.  That seems to be the best way to get anxious people like me to click on them.  A headline like “NASA scientists speculate that the earth could run out of oxygen in a billion years – give or take a million years or two,” is overly long nor does it inspire the reader with enough fear.  Ideally, for the purposes of headline writers, the world should end in a couple of years – long enough to let people worry about it, while not so long that people put it out of their minds as a problem for tomorrow’s children.

Jesus told His followers, "Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." (Matthew 6:34) Borrowing trouble from tomorrow isn’t helpful – particularly not trouble from a distant tomorrow a billion years from now.

It is hard not to worry.  Even if it doesn't do any good, borrowing trouble from the future is an easy endeavor, but one that only lowers our enjoyment of the present.  The vast majority of things we stress over aren't things we can change and still we fret over them, wondering which of our fears will come to pass.

Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount that the solution was to trust our Heavenly Father.  He takes care of sparrows and flowers, surely, He will take care of His children who love Him.  More than that, we need to learn to live in the present.  Whether it is thinking about our six-year-old daughter's future husband or a "great de-oxygenation event," borrowing trouble from the future only steals the enjoyment we have from today and does little to change the chance of disaster happening down the road.

Climbing for the Dogs

 

“I’m so tired!”  Elise said, dragging one leg after the other up a rough, stone step.  “This mountain is too high!”

“We’re almost there,” I said encouragingly.  “Maybe ten more minutes and we’ll be at the top.”

We were climbing Sharptop Mountain.  Supposedly, the trail is a mile and a half from the store at the bottom to the top, but my watch told me it was closer to two miles – a long way for a six-year-old girl to climb, particularly considering that the trail rises about 1,300 feet over its course.

Elaine and I were climbing with Elise, but our other four children had dashed ahead, beating us to the top by many minutes.  I could picture them sitting up on the rocks, watching the world go by and wondering where their slow poke parents were.

When the three slow pokes finally reached the top, Elise looked out.  “We are really high,” she proclaimed.

“You can see a long way,” I agreed.  “Do you think you can see any other countries from here?”

“No, Dad,” she said.  “We cannot.” 

Right she was.  We certainly could not see Canada, Cuba, or Mexico from our perch, some 3,875 feet above the level of the ocean.  I was surprised at how nonchalant and unimpressed with the view she seemed.  To me it was amazing, to her, it was a disappointing reward for a hard climb.

I was worried about the way down.  It is just as far a distance down as it is on the way up, but with Elise’s tired, shorter legs, I wasn’t sure if she would make it down without whining.  What I didn’t reckon on was the dogs.

Not long after we left the summit, we happened on a labradoodle, walking a young a man up the trail.  “Can I pat your doggy?”  Elise asked. 

“Sure, his name is Frodo,” the young man said as Frodo dutifully sat and let Elise pat him.

Soon thereafter, we met another dog, this one named Bobo.  We went through the same ritual and Bobo, apparently glad, to cease climbing for a brief moment, let Elise pat him. 

Other dogs followed – Lulu and Luna and Jelly Fish, among 8 or 9 others.  “I’ve seen so many dogs today!”  Elise gushed to her parents.  “And they all like me!  Next time I climb Sharptop Mountain, I will bring along cards for all of the dogs and give them to them.”

“They might like dog toys or treats better,” Elaine said.

“You’re right, Mom,” Elise said.  “I will bring along pupperoni for them and they will like me even better.  It has been so awesome to hike and see all of these dogs!”

I found Elise’s response to hiking interesting, to say the least.  On the way up, it was a struggle because she really didn’t enjoy what she was doing and while the view is spectacular at the top, it didn’t seem worth the effort to get there.

On the other hand, once she began to meet various dogs, everything changed.  Suddenly, she had a reason to enjoy the hike – and to look forward to the next, tail-wagging friend she would meet.

Jesus told His followers, “I have told you these things so that you will be filled with my joy. Yes, your joy will overflow!” (John 15:11)

So much of the message of the Gospel is about joy.  I wonder if part of experiencing joy is focusing on the parts of your journey that you actually enjoy.  Emphasizing those things, while getting through the parts you struggle with, brings so much more to the table.

I’m not sure that I would have climbed Sharptop Mountain simply to see the dogs on the path, but for a six-year-old girl, this was all it took to bring a smile to her face on a long trail. 

Gas Money?!

 

“Dad,” my youngest daughter said to me.  “What is gas money?”

This was an odd question coming from someone who is not quite six years old and I wondered at the meaning behind it.  Still, I answered it the best that I could.  “When we drive somewhere, Elise, it takes gas and that costs money.  I guess you could say that gas money is the money it takes to buy the gas to get to that place.”

Elise was silent for a moment. Since she was not someone of driving age, nor was she tall enough to operate gas pumps, this was all a bit beyond her reckoning.  Then, she said, “I need gas money!”

“Why do you need gas money?  You won’t be able to drive for ten more years?”

“I need to gas money because I want to visit another country,” Elise said firmly.  This has been a theme from her of late.  She has not visited another country, and this saddens her greatly – particularly since various members of her family have spent time in other lands, far from here.

“What country do you want to visit?”  I asked.

“Kentucky!”  She said.

“I have heard of Kentucky,” I said.  “That is yon distant land on the other side of the Cumberland Gap.  Well, I’ll tell you what, one day we will visit that country and Mom and I will take care of the gas money to get there.  How about that?”

This seemed to satisfy her, at least for the moment.  We may not visit that land of rolling hills and horses and bluegrass soon, but certainly we will someday, and she need not worry about the costs of such an adventure.

The verse comes to my mind, “And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 4:19)

All too often, we look forward and worry about how we will survive, much less thrive in the stress that awaits us.  There are all sorts of needs in our lives and more often than not, we feel like the gas gauge is hovering just above ‘E’ and the gas money is depleted as well.

It is in these moments that our Heavenly Father wants us to turn to Him.  He has sufficient to meet our needs – and more besides.  He only wants us to learn to trust Him.

When God has a path for us to take, He will make certain we have all the resources we need to reach the destination – even if He plans for us to travel to that distant land of ancient tales, Kentucky.

Disappointing Apple

 

 It was lunchtime at the office and as usual, I opened my lunch box and took out an apple.  Then, I turned to my computer and opened my message folder to see all of the things I hadn’t had time to get to that morning blinking at me.  I had a moment to breathe and hopefully I could catch up on these messages before the onslaught of the afternoon began.  At least I had an apple to munch on…

I took a bite of the Honey Crisp Apple I was holding and was instantly disappointed.

I will confess freely that I like apples.  If I were to name my top five fruits, apples would certainly be there along with peaches and pears.  Grapes are good, but in my experience inconsistent.  Plums are often sour, while catching watermelons at the perfect ripeness is often a challenge.  Apples, on the other hand, (except for Red Delicious Apples) are always good.

Except for this one.

The apple I held in my hand didn’t measure up.  The flavor wasn’t great, which was disappointing, but even worse, the nice crunch you are supposed to feel when you bite into an apple simply wasn’t there.  This apple was mealy – the memory of an apple – floating in that dismal space between over ripe and rotten.

I looked into my lunchbox and discovered that I hadn’t packed much else except a sandwich and two cookies and went ahead and ate the thing.

An apple a day may keep the doctor away, but this one wasn’t keeping anyone away – except some sad soul who happened to be allergic to apples.

The disappointment came from the fact that my apple didn’t have flavor or crunch I expected.

There are some people in this world that we don’t trust.  When they let us down, we are not pleased, but we are not surprised either.  I am never surprised when I hear that a politician was caught taking illicit money or cheating on their spouse.  This seems par for the course.

On the other hand, when someone seems trustworthy and outstanding and we discover that all of this is fraud, it tends to make us distrust not only that person, but others, as well.

Jesus called out the religious leaders of His day, “What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you shut the door of the Kingdom of Heaven in people’s faces. You won’t go in yourselves, and you don’t let others enter either.” (Matthew 23:14) These men looked good on the outside, but inwardly, they didn’t measure up.

Of course, hypocrites aren’t what they appear, but the sad thing is that they damage the faith of others who put their trust in them.  Jesus described them as white washed tombs – shiny on the outside, but inside full of skeletons.

The call comes clearly through to live honest lives.  The problem isn’t that hypocrites aren’t perfect – none of us are – but that they pretend a perfection they haven’t attained.  When it finally falls apart and their true nature is exposed, it will damage not only their lives, but the faith of those who placed them on a pedestal. 

I pray that we could live with integrity, not like a honey crisp apple that pretends to be a paragon of appleness when it is hiding a mealy, flavorless interior.

Hot Sauce!

 

“What kind of peppers do you think they are?”  Elliot asked.  His grandparents had sent some small, apparently quite spicy, peppers our way.  They sat in a plastic baggy, all five of them, looking mildly back at us, hiding their true nature inside their yellow skins.

“Google will tell me,” I said and snapped a picture and quickly Google informed of the answer.

“Elliot, do you know why the pepper couldn’t hit the target?”

“Does this have anything to do with these peppers?”  Elliot was not buying my Dad joke sensibility.

“Because it didn’t Hab-a-nero!”  I said.

“That’s not the way Spanish speaking people say it,” he said, critically.  “They don’t pronounce the “Hs” in their words.”

“Maybe it’s a cockney dad joke,” I said.  “Anyway, these are Habanero Peppers – whether or not you pronounce the H.”

It was at this point that Elliot got his bright idea.  “I’m going to make my own hot sauce!”  He said.  “These Habaneros will be perfect to start that!”

“There are a few Jalapenos in the fridge too,” his mother put in.  “You can use those too if you want.”

And so began the quest for hot sauce.  Elliot quickly found an online recipe.  “The only thing is that it says you should wear a respirator if you are going to make this,” he said. 

“Maybe that’s why Darth Vader wears one,” I said.  “He seems like a big hot sauce sort of fellow.  I’m sure when he isn’t force choking soldiers, he’s in the kitchen whipping up his latest spicy concoction.  You’ll have to make do with the hood on over the stove.  Hopefully that will take away the worst of the fumes.”

Elliot began working on his hot sauce.  He was careful to wear gloves and got all of his ingredients diced up well and put them on the stove top to cook together.  It was about this time that I heard him begin to cough and I came downstairs to investigate.

The air was thick with capsaicin.  It really did get into your throat and irritated it and you couldn’t help but cough at regular intervals.  For some reason, Elliot hadn’t turned on the vent above the stove and once he did this, things got a little better, but for the rest of the evening if you went anywhere near the kitchen, you would start to get choked up.

Of course, hot sauce is one of those things where a little bit goes a long way.  A few drops are good; a cup is overwhelming.  When it is aerosolized, it makes you realize how easy it is for viruses to float on the air just waiting for an unsuspecting soul to inhale them and begin a journey towards mucus production. 

There are other things in life where too much is not beneficial.  Wealth is one of those things.  Proverbs tells us, “Better a little with the fear of the Lord than great wealth with turmoil.” (Proverbs 15:16)

The point is not that severe poverty is beneficial to anyone – clearly it isn’t, but the pursuit of wealth brings with it chaos and turmoil.  Choosing instead to pursue other things and to give generously with what we do have is the solution.

Just a small amount of hot sauce is needed to bring out the flavor of a taco.  In much the same way, a small amount of wealth with a large dose of contentment is what is needed to bring satisfaction, while the reverse will only bring a life of turmoil.

Fried Bologna!

 

“It’s Back!”  The sign in front of the restaurant read.  “Fried Bologna!”

A surprised look came on my face.  I hadn’t known that Fried Bologna was gone.  I wondered whether if it had an enjoyable time during its time away from Brookneal.  I could picture it sitting on a beach somewhere in North Carolina sipping an Arnold Palmer and watching the tide come in.

I wondered at my lack of emotion in thinking about the Return of Fried Bologna.  There are many things that are life changing, but this just didn’t seem to fit that category at all.

At the same time, I have heard of people pursuing the craziest things.  I remember a story from a while back of people who would invest hours driving to locations where McDonald’s McRib sandwiches were for sale.  I've had a McRib and I can't say I enjoyed it enough that I would order at a local McDonald's.  I certainly wouldn't drive many miles to get one.

There are different things that people devote their time and energy to.  It could be mastering chess or learning to read the Iliad in the original Greek.  I suppose the problem is that we don’t really know ahead of acquiring this item or skill whether we will fill rewarded at the end of accomplishing it.

Jesus said, “Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need.” (Matthew 6:33)  Quite simply, if you put the important things first, everything works out better than if you fill your life with trivialities and then try to squeeze in a few valuable things around the edges.

Everyone reaches the end of their life having used 24 hours each day and 7 days each week.  All will have accomplished many different things, but whether or not they feel a sense of accomplishment will depend totally on what those things are.

Those who pursue the kingdom of God will receive satisfaction in a way that others will not – even those who pursue Fried Bologna in Brookneal, Virginia.

Top Ten Watermelons

 

“I think this is the best watermelon I’ve ever tasted!”  Elaine said, after she took a bite of a slice.  “This is amazing!”

“It is really good watermelon,” I commented, “but I’ve heard you say that same thing about four or five other watermelons over the last couple of years.”

“Maybe it’s that watermelons keep getting better and better,” Vincent said.  “Just like iPhones.”

“Mom is just a positive person, and it shows up when she’s eating watermelon,” Anna put in.

“She’ll say when the watermelon isn’t good too,” I said.  “There’s plenty of times that we’ve gotten watermelon that was a little too old and she’ll mention that too.”

“I probably should have just said that it’s really tasty watermelon and left it at that,” Elaine said.  “I didn’t really expect everyone to analyze my statement like they did.”

“I’m sure the watermelon feels better about sacrificing its life for us, knowing that we’ve really enjoyed it,” I said.  “I don’t think I could rank my top ten watermelon eating experiences.  I know I’ve eaten good watermelons in the past, but since I didn’t mark them down, or journal about them, I guess they just floated away like bubbles on the wind.”

I think there are some people out there that are against any form of exaggeration in speech.  They feel that it is almost akin to lying and if it isn’t an untruth, maybe it is the sort of “idle words” that the Bible seems to discourage us from using.

It is hard to really make this case since Jesus indulged in hyperbole.  When he was talking to the Pharisees, He said, “You blind guides! You strain out a gnat but swallow a camel.” (Matthew 23:24)  I suppose it is possible that the religious leaders of Jesus’ day really did fish insects out of their drinks and periodically swallowed dromedaries, but I think it is more likely that Jesus was commenting about their willingness to accept large sins in their synagogues while casting out people with tiny offenses.

In other places He talked about camels going through the eye of a needle, cutting off body parts and putting out eyes.  In each case, He seems to have used some level of exaggeration to make a point seem extreme to those listening. 

The problem with exaggeration is simply that when we begin to rely on it to intensify a point we are making, we have to return to that well over and over.  Sportscasters have to make whatever sporting event they are talking about seem like one of the greatest events since the US Olympic Hockey Team won at Lake Placid.

It’s probably best to reserve hyperbole for special occasions.  If every watermelon you eat is in the top ten of watermelons you have tasted, the award begins to feel more like a participation trophy than a gold medal.