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.

Weather Dissatisfaction Index

 

 

Summer sun twinkled through the leaves of the tree lined road.  It was early, but the temperature had already reached a balmy 87 degrees and by mid-afternoon would hit 98 degrees.  I idly thought that maybe I would take my family on a weekend trip to the surface of the sun for a bit of a reprieve from the heat.

Sure, the surface of the sun is hot, but at least it’s a dry heat…

I remember last winter, when the polar vortex moved through, the complaints about the weather that I heard every day reached an extremely high level.  Maybe instead of a heat index, we really need a weather dissatisfaction index.

“…and in other news, the weather dissatisfaction index (WDI) is expected to reach an all time high on Tuesday at 99.99!”

Growing up I heard and read the stories about the complaining Israelites traveling through the Sinai Peninsula.  God had done miraculous things on their behalf – freed them from slavery, taken them through the Red Sea, and given them water from a rock.  They still complained constantly.

God had sent the people food that they gathered every morning.  They called it manna and initially, they liked it.  It didn’t taste too bad, was fortified with every vitamin and mineral you could think of, and no one went hungry.  There was only one problem.  It only came in one flavor – manna flavor.

At one point the people came to Moses distraught, “Oh that we had meat to eat!  We remember the fish we ate in Egypt that cost nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic.  But now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing at all but this manna to look at.” (Numbers 11:4-6)

They should have had hearts full of gratitude, but instead they moaned about musty manna.  They had tired of the sustenance that God had provided and now, they simply wanted something else.

I wonder how much better we would do.  We, who have supermarkets full of good (if expensive) food and homes with air conditioning.  We, who have running water and even ice makers still have the ability to complain about things we cannot change, like the weather.

At the end of the day, complaining seldom changes anything.  It doesn’t even make us feel better about the thing under scrutiny.  It only drags our focus from our blessings to the imperfections of life.

Even if the weather dissatisfaction index hits 100 percent, we can still feel grateful.  If someone can be satisfied with just rhythm and music, surely we can be thankful the God is good and we are blessed.  Who could ask for anything more?

Mother's Kisses

 

 

“Mom, I need a Band Aid!”  Elise said.

“What happened?”  Elaine asked her.

“I was running, and I scraped my foot and there’s blood in it!”  Elise said, her lip quivering.

“There’s actually blood inside everyone,” I said, pouring a little bit of my scientific knowledge out for the unwilling masses to hear.  “We only see it when we get scrapes and cuts.”

Elise didn’t seem consoled by my wisdom.  Knowledge may be power, but it lacks the ability to comfort the scraped shin or wounded knee.

“Do you want me to kiss it to make it better?”  Elaine asked. 

“No!”  Elise said.  “Kisses DO NOT make things better!  Only Band Aids make things better!”

With this in mind, we sent out a search party to look for a Band Aid in the jumble of odds and ends in the kitchen cabinet where we keep such things.  After its application to the abrasion, the patient seemed consoled and able to return to her regular activities.

I suppose there comes a time for each of us to grow up.  We put away childish things, like mother’s kisses, and move on to truly efficacious things like Band Aids and Mecurochrome and antibiotics.

It is this way in other areas of life as well.  Many reach an age where they have no use for faith.  Religion may be the opiate of the masses, but they will not willingly partake in any such thing and so they leave it behind to focus themselves on the grind of everyday life.

Believing in the unseen is simply too hard.

"It was by faith that Moses left the land of Egypt, not fearing the king’s anger. He kept right on going because he kept his eyes on the one who is invisible." (Hebrews 11:27)

Maybe it seems childish to keep faith.  It was just this child-like belief that kept Moses going as he led the Israelites out of Egypt and through the trials of the desert.

We persevere, not because we have grown up, but because we believe in something -- in Someone -- bigger than ourselves.  

Even grownups need someone to care for them in the bumps and scrapes of everyday life.  I am glad that I have a Heavenly Father who I can turn to, for His healing touch works better than any Band Aid ever could.

Picking Up Litter

 

“Dad, can you get me a trash bag?”  Elise asked me.

“Sure,” I replied.  “What do you want to do with it?”

“I’m going to go along the road to pick up trash!”  She announced proudly.  “You can come along and hold the bag for me.”

With this glorious invitation, I accompanied my five-year-old daughter out to Wyatt Miles Road to pick up a variety of litter.  The treasures we discovered included beer cans, plastic bottles, and plastic bags.

“Isn’t this exciting?”  Elise asked me.  “I just LOVE picking up trash.  It will make everything so clean along the road.  But who would throw litter out like this?”

“Do you think maybe there are Indians in our woods?  Maybe they are the ones who throw these things out,” I said.

She thought for a moment, then shook her head.  “No, Dad,” she said.  “Indians would not do something like that.”  The question wasn’t whether there were Indians in our woods, but rather whether they would choose to litter and of course, she was right.  Native Americans would never dump trash along the roadside.

“Maybe it’s animals,” I said.  “I hear that racoons are pretty bad at spreading trash around.”

Elise nodded her head sagely.  “Yes, racoons are a mess!”  She spied a McDonald’s cup on the edge of the woods.  “I’m going to get that cup,” she said.  As she returned to put it in the bag, she said, “This is a cup for caffeine coffee.  I couldn’t drink it because I don’t drink caffeine!”

I am not sure why people litter.  Maybe it is as simple as them believing that once an item is out of their hand, it becomes somebody else’s problem.  Since it is only one item, it isn’t that big a deal, is it?

“Whose woods are these? I think I know.

His house is in the village though

He will not see me stopping here

To drop my beer can in the snow.”

I am thankful for a daughter who wants to see the world clean and fresh and new and is not discouraged by the fact that the trash we picked up today will soon reaccumulate. 

The Apostle Paul wrote, “And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.”  (Galatians 6:9)

It is hard to carry on without growing weary, particularly as the people around us continue to heap problems for us to deal with.  It is still best if we focus on the little good that we can, each day attempting to make our world – and the worlds of those around us – a better place to live in.

It doesn’t really matter if it is racoons or elves (but it’s not elves) who are leaving a mess for others to find, the rest of us can still leave the world a little cleaner than we found it. 

One McDonald’s Styrofoam cup at a time.

The Oregon Trail

 

  

“I picked up a new game today at a thrift store,” Elaine said.

“Really?  What’s it called?”  I asked her.  I wasn’t terribly interested at the moment.

“The Oregon Trail,” she said.  “I think it is a version of the game that used to be available on computers back in the day.”

I remembered the Oregon Trail from my younger days, playing on an Apple IIc computer.  They weren’t good memories.  I had never won the game – never even gotten close as far as I could tell.

One evening we broke out the cards, dutifully handed out resources, and stacked up the calamity cards and began to play.  Disaster struck fairly quickly.  Vincent placed a card down that instructed him to draw a calamity card.

With bated breath we watched him draw the card.  “You have been bitten by a snake,” the card said.  “You Died!”

Bit by bit we meandered our way along, one member of our party died of cold (we didn't have a clothing resource card) and another of dysentery.  Finally, the last succumbed to bad water. 

“Well, that was depressing,” I said.  “Of course, it seems like a pretty faithful replication of how playing the original computer game was.”

I wondered if it was this dangerous to travel the actual Oregon Trail.  What percent of folks who embarked in their covered wagons actually made it through?

I asked Google and it told me that 90 percent of those early travelers made it through.  Still, if you had a one in ten chance of dying while doing something -- say traveling to Oregon, you might think twice before embarking on the adventure.

The death rate on the game seemed much higher.  My guess is that 90 percent of the people who play the Oregon Trail game lose all of their resource cards while crossing rivers and then perish in the wilderness, far from family and friends, their only memorial a scribbled name on a makeshift tombstone.

What many people don't realize is that even in the year of our Lord, 2025, death rate is exactly the same as what it was in 1840s and 50s when the Oregon Trail was in use.  Humans live longer -- the average age of death in the United States in 1860 was around 40 (although adults who survived childhood would typically make it to their early 50s), while today it is in the upper 70s, but one hundred percent of people still die.

I tell my patients that my goal is not to get them to live forever, but simply to help them to be healthy in the time they have here.

10 

Seventy years are given to us!

    Some even live to eighty.

But even the best years are filled with pain and trouble;

    soon they disappear, and we fly away.

Who can comprehend the power of your anger?

    Your wrath is as awesome as the fear you deserve.

Teach us to realize the brevity of life,

    so that we may grow in wisdom.

This is from Psalm 90, a Psalm attributed to Moses.  The poem makes the point that those who understand the shortness of life and the certainty of death will choose their activities with wisdom.

The Oregon Trail game is far from a rollicking good time, but if it encourages those who play it to number their days and realize the importance of using time wisely, then maybe it is worth playing.  While in these modern days the rate of death from snake bite, bad water, and dysentery have dropped considerably, still, none of us will live forever.  It is best to use our short, allotted time wisely.

Whether we are given a few years or a hundred years, the day is coming when we will meet our Creator.  Hopefully we will have filled those days with things of value and pursued a goal worth attaining, unlike those who finish the Oregon Trail game, who find that successfully navigating the trail only leaves them with a knowledge that they have survived a game that weeds out most of the weakest in the party. 

Spring Allergies...

 

 

“Isn’t beautiful outside?”  I said.  “I love springtime – seeing all the flowers blooming now is wonderful.”

The man sitting across from me looked offended.  “For allergy sufferers it’s pretty terrible,” he told me.  “I feel like every sinus in my head is about ready to explode.  It must be nice to be able to enjoy spring, but some of us just can’t.”

I probably looked startled.  “I guess I just like seeing everything in bloom.  I have a peach tree right now that is covered in blossoms,” I said, as way of explanation.

“It’s too early,” my patient told me flatly.  “You won’t get no peaches with it warming up this early.  Mr. Frost will get every one of your peaches!”

I took a deep breath.  Clearly this was not a man with whom to discuss the weather.  We moved on to other topics, but across the board he was negative.  If something bad hadn’t happened yet, he was bound and determined that it would happen and there was no sense getting his hopes up about a world that was headed for disaster.

There are some people who realized long ago that there is no silver lining that doesn’t have a dark cloud attached to it.  When they see smoke, they do not ask themselves whether it is produced by a fire, but rather how many people died in the conflagration.

I have spoke with many of these individuals and some, at least, claim that they are “happier” because they never suffer disappointment.  If you expect the worst, then every surprise is a happy one.

When I talk with them, I don’t sense much happiness.

There is much discussion of joy in Scripture.  The Bible doesn’t tell us that was have to look at life through rose colored glasses or only focus on the silver linings if we are following Jesus, but it might help. 

“Rejoice in our confident hope. Be patient in trouble, and keep on praying.” (Romans 12:12)

The Apostle Paul wasn’t saying that we wouldn’t have troubles , but rather that we needed to rejoice because even in that trouble we have confident hope.

It is hard to live Eeyore’s existence, pessimistically expecting floods, wars, and pestilence and all the while feeling vaguely irritated by the clueless, happy imbeciles who surround us.  Maybe they are closer to the truth.

For, joy comes, even for allergy sufferers from seeing the beauty around us, even when our nasal passages are filled to overflowing.

Leftover Cookies

 

“I took snack to orchestra tonight,” Elaine told me.  “I imagine there will be some chips and cookies left over for school lunches.”

“You never know,” I said.  “The appetites of young viola and cello players is phenomenal, or so I’ve heard.”

Not too long after this brief conversation, our two sons entered the house.  “I brought home the box of chips,” Elliot said.  “About the only ones left were Cheetos.”

Elaine looked at the box in his hands.  “Where are the cookies?”  She asked him.  “Weren’t there any left?”

“The cookies?”  Elliot said.  “Yes, there were plenty left.  I gave them away to one of the girls.  She said she had three sisters, and they love cookies.”

“You have three sisters too,” I said.  It didn’t seem a particular reason to give away all of the cookies.  “I think Mom was planning to have them in lunches.”

Elliot looked askance.  “Well,” he said.  “They were mostly oatmeal cookies left and I don’t like oatmeal cookies.  Anyway, I would have thought you would be glad that I was generous.”

“I like oatmeal cookies,” Anna put in.  “I would have been glad to eat them.”

At this point, the conversation meandered in other directions, but I was struck by the concept of sacrifice and generosity.  It isn't hard to sacrifice things that you didn’t pay for, it is easy to be generous with cookies that you don’t like.

The prophet Malachi brought a warning to the people that their sacrifices to God were contemptible.  “But you dishonor my name with your actions. By bringing contemptible food, you are saying it’s all right to defile the Lord’s table.  You say, ‘It’s too hard to serve the Lord,’ and you turn up your noses at my commands,” says the Lord of Heaven’s Armies. “Think of it! Animals that are stolen and crippled and sick are being presented as offerings! Should I accept from you such offerings as these?” asks the Lord.” (Malachi 1:13,14)

I am afraid that most of us give from our surplus, we are generous as long as we feel comfortable.  After we have covered all of our expenses and most of our desires, we are willing to drop a few nickels and dimes in the coffers of the Salvation Army.

I did a little research and found that on average, American Christians give about 2 percent of their income to charity.  More than that, wealthier Americans are less likely than poorer ones to give a high percentage of their income to charity.  It seems that the more money you have, the less you have to spare to give to those in need.

Of course, if only the billionaires would give their share, the rest of wouldn't have to give much at all.  Maybe that's true, but perhaps, we receive a great benefit when we are willing to give sacrificially.  

I know that many aid organizations around the world are struggling to make ends meet.  Regardless of the reasons for this, the people of God could do a better job of stepping into the gap.

I have heard the expression that we should give till it hurts.  I would say rather that we should give until it stops hurting.  We are called to share with those who are in need.  We would do well to give more than a few leftover oatmeal raisin cookies.

When the House Goes Dark

 

 

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

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

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

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

Oh, bliss...

All was well until about 8:30 that evening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Before I Was Born

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Saving for a Snowstorm

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blinded by the Light

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

“I still don’t understand,” he said.

“I work in Brookneal,” I said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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