Holy Food?

 

“I hear you all are having a donut sale next weekend,” the lady said to me.  “I always look forward to that – Mennonite donuts are SO good!”

“That’s our plan,” I said.  “We’ll be selling hole-y food at the gym as long as it lasts.”

“Holy food?”  The lady seemed surprised.  “Will your bishop be blessing the donuts before you sell them?  That would be a big attraction.”

“No, I don’t think so,” I said.  “I just meant that donuts have holes in them.”

“Oh,” the lady seemed disappointed.  “Well, I’m sure with a doctor helping with them they will be especially healthy.”

I wasn’t too sure about that.  “They’ll be tasty,” I said, uncertainly.  “I’m not too sure about how much nutritional value they will have.”

The woman went on to talk about the quality of homemade food.  Even if Mennonite donuts weren’t vitamin fortified, they were still “a cut above.”

I have noticed that many people look for reasons to do unhealthy things and at the same time they find plenty of reasons why they don’t do the healthy things they know they should be doing.  They buy holy donuts from the Mennonites but completely skip the vigorous exercise that all of us should be doing to get into shape.

The Prophet Jeremiah had one of the darkest assessments of the human condition that I know of.  “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?” (Jeremiah 17:9) 

The world around us tell us to “Follow your heart.” But is it wisdom to follow your heart?  Jeremiah would say “no.”  Following your heart will simply get you into trouble.

At a minimum, you need to have a basic understanding of what your heart desires and why it wants those things, because most of us are amazingly good at coming up with reasons why we should pursue things that are not good for us.

We call this “reason creation” rationalization.  Rather than asking the question about whether or not we can come up with reasons why we should do the thing we want to do, maybe it would be better to ask whether this activity will help us achieve our long-term goals.

If buying donuts doesn’t help us get healthy or draw closer to Jesus, then maybe we should leave them alone.  This, even if the donuts are holy, almost-healthy, Mennonite delicacies from Gladys, Virginia.

A Lack of Power

 

 

“There’s something wrong,” Elaine said.  “The food is cold!”

We had just gotten home from church and strangely enough, no aromas of cooking food wafted out when we opened the door into our house.  Only our dog Cosmo greeted us as we entered, and we certainly weren’t planning to eat him.

“Is the crock pot on?”  I asked.  It has happened before that the crock pot didn’t get turned on.  For some reason, crock pots aren’t very effective when the switch is turned to ‘off.’

“Yes, it’s on,” Elaine said.

My mind immediately jumped to the idea that our crock pot was broken, although in my experience, they are fairly indestructible devices.  I wouldn’t be surprised if the Navy Seals start to carry crockpots with them on missions – at least if they were just a little smaller.

“Oh, I see,” Elaine said.  “It wasn’t plugged in.  Well, I guess that explains it.”

I gave a sigh of relief.  At least our crockpot wasn’t broken.  Although, it begs the question – with all of the cordless items on the market, why haven’t crockpots gone wireless?

There are cordless vacuum sweepers, drills, saws, and even toasters, but cordless crockpots are few and far between.  Beyond which, since our kitchen is actually replete with electrical outlets – and I have been paying our power bill regularly – having the sort of crock pot you plug in really isn’t a problem.

Fortunately, we are a household that not only boasts a crock pot, but we also own an Instant Pot, and the contents of the crock pot were transferred to this second device and after it was plugged in, cooking commenced. 

Power is one of those things that is fairly important these days.  In the days of the pioneers, power had mostly to do with the number of horses or oxen you owned, with which you could break up the land or haul heavy loads.  Most of the menial chores that we do with electricity were done by manual labor.

I can turn a lever on my sink, and an electric well pump fills a pressure tank which pushes water out of the sink.  A couple of hundred years ago, I would have had to lower a bucket into a well and raise the water one bucket at a time.

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” (II Timothy 1:7)

The authors of the New Testament wrote frequently about power.  They didn’t know about electrical power or diesel motors.  They had never heard of the Hoover Dam and would have had no concept of the 4 billion Kilowatt-hours of energy it generates every year.  What they knew was that Jesus had come to earth to give them power and they could see evidence of that power in their own lives and in the lives of others in their church community.

That power still exists today.  The problem is not that God’s power is less or that His hand is shortened, but simply that people don’t take advantage of that power. 

Like an unplugged crock pot sitting on a counter, they struggle through life, wondering why it is so hard.  Fears overwhelm them and self-control eludes them when victory lies just a short distance away.

For God has offered us power and love, if we only plug in to His will for our lives.

Winter Olympics

“I think Vincent and Elliot would be great at curling!”  My eldest daughter declared.  For some reason, she is really into the Winter Olympics and while four years transpire during which the great sport of curling is not mentioned in our home, February of 2026 brought a deluge of mentions of things like curling, slalom, and speed skating.

“I don’t think so,” Vincent said.  “I am not very good with ice skates on.  I’d fall over pretty fast.”

“Maybe he’d do better at the skeleton,” I suggested.

“Definitely not,” Vincent said.  “80 miles per hour is too fast for me.”

“You don’t wear ice skates for curling,” Anna persisted.  “They just wear some kind of shoe with a slippery sole that lets them slide across the ice.  You’d be fine, Vincent.”

“I don’t think so,” Vincent said in a grumbly sort of voice.

“But you and Elliot are used to sweeping,” Anna said, warming to her subject.  “With all the practice you’ve gotten sweeping at home and at school, you’d be awesome at guiding the stones!  It would be so awesome – Vincent and Elliot Waldron, Gold Medal winners for Curling!”

While curling may not be as scary as skiing down a steep slope 70 miles per hour, it seems as though there is major skill involved with it.  Simply being able to create a dirty pile with a kitchen broom isn’t the same as sliding in front of a stone, moving across the ice and direct it using special broom.  Maybe these athletes are also good at cleaning up after a meal, but I’m guessing the skills don’t actually translate that well.

For some reason, my mind was drawn to a situation that the Apostle Paul and Barnabas experienced on their first missionary journey.  Acts 13 tells us that part way through this journey, John Mark, who was supposed to be helping them left and headed for home.

No one knows why he left.  Maybe he was home sick.  Maybe the challenges of the journey and the threat of persecution were too much for him.  The reason doesn’t really matter, John Mark let them down.

So it was, when Barnabas and Paul were thinking about their next trip, Barnabas suggested bringing John Mark with them again and Paul turned him down. 

“And Barnabas determined to take with them John, whose surname was Mark. But Paul thought not good to take him with them, who departed from them from Pamphylia, and went not with them to the work.  And the contention was so sharp between them, that they departed asunder one from the other: and so Barnabas took Mark, and sailed unto Cyprus; And Paul chose Silas, and departed, being recommended by the brethren unto the grace of God…”

We know that over time, John Mark developed maturity and towards the end of his life, Paul asked that John Mark would accompany Timothy, to visit him in prison.  Earlier on, John Mark needed someone like Barnabas in his life – a man who would give him opportunity to grow and a second chance to serve.

Most of all, he needed someone who would understand that he wasn’t fully formed, but that he was still developing the skills needed to share the gospel and minister to other’s needs. 

Each of us needs a Barnabas or two in our lives to encourage us and give us opportunities, both to succeed and fail.  More than that, we need to be willing to be a Barnabas for others around us.  Simply expecting that because your brothers can sweep the floor will let them medal in the Winter Olympics is only bound for failure – even if it produces some interesting dinner conversation along the way. 

"I Love My Lips!"

 

“If my lips ever left my mouth,

Packed a bag and headed south,

That'd be too bad, I'd be so sad…”

“Dad, why do we have lips?”  My youngest daughter queried.  She has strange fascinations and this evening; lips were percolating through her grey matter.

“Well, lips help us say certain sounds like ‘P’ and ‘B’ and ‘M.’  It is really hard to say, ‘Mom is probably making bubbles, popcorn, and mustard,’ without using your lips.”

I hoped this was helpful.  I did go to medical school, but I have a feeling I missed ‘lip day’ and so I feel a bit deficient on the subject.

“If my lips said “Adios,

I don't like you, I think you're gross.”

That'd be too bad, I might get mad...”

“Do dogs have lips?”  Elise asked, moving onto a subject that I knew even less about than human lips.

“Of course they do,” I said easily.  “Look at Cosmo over there smiling like anything.  How would he do that without his lips?” 

Cosmo of course was looking as glum as usual.  He maybe as happy as a clam, but he isn’t one for giggling, chortling, or even smiling.

“You’re being silly, Dad,” Elise said.  “Cosmo isn’t smiling at all.  He’s a dog.  Dogs don’t smile.”

“If my lips moved to Duluth

Left a mess and took my tooth.

That'd be too bad, I'd call my Dad…”

“You know, Elise,” I said, trying to move the conversation to more firm footing for me.  “There’s a kind of flower that I heard of called a Two-Lip.”

Elise screwed up her face, thinking about this odd floral name.  “That’s not the way you say that, Dad,” she said at last.  “I think you say it TAU-LIP.  Anyway, it doesn’t have anything to do with lips.  If you eat food, will it make your lips get bigger?”

“I love my lips!”

These are the sort of conversations one has with a six-year-old, who understands that things exist, but is uncertain of the “why” behind them.  While I have studied a lot of different things, I don’t always know the reason why.

“I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.” (Psalm 139:14)

Even if I don’t know the reason why I have lips or why my lips are shaped the way they are, I know for certain that my Heavenly Father created them exactly the way they should be.  I am afraid that these days, many people aren’t satisfied with their lips.  They get injections into them to make them bigger or use special creams that are supposed to make them plumper.

It makes me a bit sad, because God knew what He was doing when He made us.  The important thing is not to meet some unattainable standard of beauty, but rather that our lips smile, sharing with others the joy we feel and that they help us speak praise to the God who knew us before we were born and made us perfectly.

Did I mention that the Polish word for lips, is ‘usta?’

The Bad Old Days

 

 

Lo, one day it came to pass that I did wend my way to a small edifice in the town of Brookneal where I do practice the healing arts for the inhabitants of the County Campbell.  It so happened that a man of great age passed through said doors to have me spy out a cure for the dread malady, Bronchitis.

With great care, I listened to his Account of how his grandchildren had brought Germs into his home from the local institution of learning.  More, how that which he coughed up had changed in colors and how he could remember seeing all hours of the clock through the night due to his Great Coughing.

Further, I listened to his chest with a Scope of Stethe and even ordered a Radiograph to discern if such infection had descended from Bronchitis to Pneumonia.

After all this, I returned to Speak with Him.  “What thou hast,” I declaimed.  “Is the ailment, Bronchitis.  In the Bad Old Days, a doctor would have bled Thee till Thou wast better or in the ground, but I have a New Fangled Invention called an Antibiotic and it is more effective than bleeding and it hurts less To Boot.”

“Canst Thou not give me a Shot?”  Henry asked me.  “For, verily, I remember that the Medics of my youth used to give a Shot and while it hurt muchly, it granted healing Real Quick.”

“It might be that that was so,” I spake, as one doling important information to one greatly deficient.  “But penicillin doeth very little for the Resistant Bugs we see now adays – mostly because doctors over used it in ancient days.”

“Say not thou, What is the cause that the former days were better than these? for thou dost not enquire wisely concerning this.” (Ecclesiastes 7:10)

I have found, through my half century of experience that many look fondly on the Good Old Days, as they speak of them.  They were the times when kids didn’t have Smart Phones and most folks didn’t have Air Conditioning and doctors gave penicillin shot for What Ailed You.

Surely, there was much good in Those Days.  And yet, there was evil then, just as there is evil today.  For the heart of man, without God, tends towards darkness and many were the families who suffered as a result.

If I would say that the 1990s are better than these Crazy Days in the 2020s, it is simply that I was younger then and further, that my forgetter has worked over time in dis-remembering the Negatives.  For even then, there were Wars and Rumors of Wars, Famines and Earthquakes, and yeah, even Hurricanes like Andrew and Hugo.

It is best to look forward, glad for those past moments, but attempting to make the Lives Around Us better.  For, the question is not really whether a Shot of Penicillin is worth Thirty Pills of cephalexin, but what is best to make tomorrow night restful and free of coughing and for that, dwelling on the past has little efficacy for improving the future

Everything Wears Out

 

 

“Why isn’t the water getting hot?”  My son asked as he held his hand under the stream of water coming out of the faucet.

I moved my hand to check the water.  It was luke warm and seemed to be getting colder rather than warmer.  I shook my head.  “The hot water heater is probably going out,” I said.

“What does that mean?”  Elliot asked plaintively.

“Shorter showers?”  I suggested.  “Or baths that resemble the experience the people jumping off the Titanic got?”

“I’m going to warm up water on the stove and use that for my bath,” my eldest daughter said, definitively.  “It may be old school, but it beats having to choose between freezing and being filthy.”

Last week was a bad stretch for our home.  Our hot water heater went out, our dishwasher stopped working, and our gas fireplace ceased lighting.  I thought about all of these gloomily and wondered what the next item was to go on the fritz.  I hoped it wouldn’t be the coffee maker.  That truly would be a catastrophe that would rival the volcanic eruption of Krakatoa in scope.

“Of old hast thou laid the foundation of the earth: and the heavens are the work of thy hands.  They shall perish, but thou shalt endure: yea, all of them shall wax old like a garment; as a vesture shalt thou change them, and they shall be changed: But thou art the same, and thy years shall have no end.” (Psalm 102:25-27)

Everything on earth is gradually wearing out.  Some things, like cell phones, wear out faster than others, but eventually Father Time remains undefeated and all things will grind down.  All things, that is, except for the Almighty.

It is such a blessing that our Heavenly Father is dependable and that He never wears down, never gives up, and never fails.  More than that, His love is just as changeless and though all of the rest of the Universe grinds down, His matchless love won’t.

It is easy to feel discouraged when your daily shower doubles as an ice bath, but maybe that should simply get us to count the blessings of serving a God whose love doesn’t take weekends off, even if our kitchen appliances do.

A New CD

 

 

I settled myself into the seat of my truck and backed out of my parking space.  Only fifteen minutes to home.  I had a lot of things to do – I needed to check on the garden, weed a bit and even do some writing.

As I merged onto State Route 29, I noticed that my truck had a CD player.  Now, I must confess, I own CDs, but I seldom listen to them as I have moved onto using streaming services. 

I contemplated idly how hard it would be to take the CD player out and install a player capable of playing the original discs – long play, vinyl records – in its place.  I imagined it would be difficult and not terribly useful.

I would have to tell anyone riding with me, “Sorry, you can’t sit shot gun – that’s where my record collection is!”

I pushed the eject button on the CD player and out popped a disc – it was the first CD of the Pimsleur Language Thai course.  I had owned the truck for a full four years and had never realized that the first sixty-two minutes of my journey to fluent, conversational Thai language had rested in my CD player the whole time.

In the few days since I discovered this amazing compact disc, I have proceeded no further in my attempts to communicate with people from Thailand.  I suppose this is mainly because one CD doesn’t feel like much of a start – it is like trying to cross the Mississippi River with a single stepping stone.  Smart as I am, I think I’d need at least three or four CDs before I attempted a conversation with a Thai speaker.

It does strike me how we can live with something – someone for years and never really know them.  I spend a lot of time in my truck, but I had never known about this CD’s presence in my truck.

The Apostle Paul told the Philippians, “Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.” (Philippians 2:4)

Whether it is a conversation or a relationship, things will go so much better when we begin to focus on the other person, rather than simply on ourselves and our responses to the person we are with.  Love is about listening and observing how the one we love is doing. 

It may take years to discover things like the presence of a Thai language CD in the truck you drive every day, but it shouldn’t be for lack of trying.

The More Famous John Waldron

 

“You know, the Waldrons were horse thieves who fled Ireland because they would have been sent to prison if they didn’t run to America?” I asked my family.

“Where did you hear that?”  My beautiful bride asked, somewhat skeptically.

“Well, my great uncle was doing research on ancestors and such and that’s what my grandfather told him.  I think he was just being silly though,” I said.

“I don’t think I’d like to have ancestors who were horse thieves,” Victoria said. 

“True,” I said.  “Most people look for royalty and fame in their family trees and brush over the black sheep.”

“I wonder what sorts of horses they stole?”  Elliot asked.

“Let’s ask Google,” I said.  Google listened to my query and then told me that while horse thievery was common in Ireland, there was no evidence that the Waldrons stole more horses than anyone else.  In fact, Dr. John Waldron of County Tuam bred a famous racehorse name Faugheen.

I was impressed.  I didn’t actually know if I was related to this other John Waldron, but clearly we had much in common – other than the racehorse thing.

I know a lot of people explore their genealogies, what I have noticed is that mostly they are looking for famous people that they are related to.  Somehow it is better to be distantly related to a baron in Upper Silesia than an excavator in lower California.

“Likewise you younger people, submit yourselves to your elders. Yes, all of you be submissive to one another, and be clothed with humility, for “God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble.”   Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time.” (I Peter 5:5,6)

Most of us want to be known by others.  If other people won’t blow the trumpet for us, we are forced to toot our own horn.

The Bible makes it clear that if we are humble, God will elevate us in His own time.  On the other hand, He resists and brings down the proud men and women of this world.

It is hard to be humble, hard to acknowledge our weaknesses and struggles, but it is far better to do that than to pretend that we are something we aren’t.  At the end of the day it doesn’t really matter if we are related to horse thieves or a famous horse breeder, what really matters is that we know Jesus and the power of His appearing.

Awesome Descriptions

 

“Look, it’s a catalog!”  I said, holding up the mail for my family to see.

When I was a boy, we got lots of catalogs in the mail.  There was the Oriental Trading Company – which had catalogs of cheap items photographed in such a way that they looked worth buying.  Then there was the Sharper Image which always had sci-fi appearing devices for purchase that were supposed to make your life better.  On top of those, there were companies like Montgomery Ward and Sears whose catalogs were mostly filled with clothing.

These days, the only catalogs I get are from nurseries and seed companies.  When they start to arrive, it is an indication that spring isn’t too far away.

Of course, all of the seeds sound like they produce amazing vegetables.  The description for each variety sounds as though it will produce the sweetest musk melon, the biggest pumpkin, or the largest harvest of green beans.  I often wonder if the folks writing the descriptions have actually raised the varieties themselves or if they are simply men and women who are experienced in writing advertising copy who decided to ply their trade in the direction of selling gardening supplies.

“Listen children,” I said to them as I opened the catalog.  “This is a ‘burpless’ cucumber.  This is what we have been waiting for all these years!  You have no idea how disgusting it is to go down to the garden to weed and have to listen to those cucumber vines burping away!  Oh, and this muskmelon says that it has succulent and melodious sweetness – I don’t know what that means, but I guess we should get it to find out!”

Most of us try to put our best foot forward when we interact with other people.  It isn’t that we lie about who we are, but whether we are interviewing with for a job, or talking with people after church, we want to look and sound our best.

The problem is that we end up hiding the areas of our lives where we are struggling.  It could be finances, or struggles with one of our children, or even just feeling emotionally worn down, but since we love Jesus, we somehow think that means we should have it all together.

“Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2)

As I think about the meaning of this verse, it strikes me that in order for other people to help us bear our burdens, we have to be transparent enough that they are aware of our struggles.  It isn’t about trying to look like we are overachieving but rather sharing honestly – at least with some people – about areas where we need prayer.

It may feel good to act as though, like those who are home on the range, we seldom hear a discouraging word, but the reality is often far from that.  Telling others that we only deal with “melodious sweetness” in our homes may feel easier than being honest about the real struggles, but each of us needs help carrying burdens and the beginning of that is honesty with a community of believers – not ad copy about how awesome we and the people around us are.

Peace on Earth!

 

“And there were shepherd abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night…”

So begins the passage from Luke 2 about visitors who traveled – not from eastern lands, but simply from pastures outside of Bethlehem.  They were field workers who watched over sheep and goats and the only notable thing about them was that they saw a group of angels and then went to see Jesus.

They seem to have been pretty impressed by what they saw.  “And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.” (Luke 2:20)

Surely, not all of the shepherds went.  Some of the shepherds must have stayed back to watch the sheep and I wonder how they responded to the excitement of their compatriots.  “What’s the big deal?”  They might have said.  “It’s just a baby – and more than that, a baby with parents too poor to have room inside.  They’re living in a stable – nothing kingly about that, is there?”

Some of the others may have gotten excited from the stories they had been told.  Between groups of angels proclaiming the Good News and the excitement of the shepherds who had visited the stable, they knew that something had changed.  Centuries of oppression by foreign empires was going to end with the birth of God’s anointed One – the Messiah.

Of course, we today are in much the same boat as the shepherds who stayed back.  Since the first century, no one has walked dusty trails with Jesus or watched Him walk on water or eaten bread that He broke to feed the ten thousand.  We only have the stories that those early followers of His left behind and can sense the excitement they experienced in His presence.

For many people, it is all too much to believe.  “What’s the big deal?”  They ask.  “A poor Galilean carpenter lived and was crucified, and His followers blew Him up into a big deal He never was during His lifetime.  There’s nothing there for me to be excited about.”

They go on their ways unmoved and unchanged by the message the angels brought to the shepherds.  They have jobs to take care of and chores to do and no time for any of this Messianic silliness.

On the other hand, some of us read the stories and catch the excitement.  There is something more – Good News, not only for first century Jews, but for All People! 

Those of us who believe can look back and realize that Jesus came to bring peace to the nations. 

If there is one thing that is needed it is peace.  For nations rise against nations and kingdom against kingdom.  Even in the United States, polarization rules supreme and men attack each other in anger and even school children are not immune to the fear of shooters showing up to kill teachers and students.

This Christmas season, I pray for peace to the One who came to bring peace.  With the shepherds, I rejoice, because God’s Messiah has come to bring peace to a world torn by war and conflict.

Busted Lips and Loose Teeth

 

“Oh no!”  Elise shrieked, sounding like a girl who has just discovered that her entire family was swallowed by a great white shark.

“What’s the matter?”  Her mother asked her.  Elaine has experienced enough of these wails of disaster not to get too bent out of shape over them.

“I fell down roller skating,” Elise said between sobs.  “And I hit my mouth and now it’s bleeding!”

There’s nothing like the sight of blood to strike fear in the heart of six-year-old girls (and plenty of older people as well).  Elise was rapidly losing blood and her parents were standing around chatting like they were at a fellowship evening at church.

“Let me look at it,” Elaine said.  “I’m sure you just scraped up your lip…”

“It needs a Band Aid!  It needs a Band Aid!”  Elise said. 

“We can’t put a Band Aid on your lip,” Elaine said.  “It wouldn’t stick.”  She looked at Elise’s mouth.  “It isn’t your lip at all,” she pronounced.  “You must have had a lose tooth and it just came out.  Look, here it is on your dress.”

Just that quickly, the script flipped.  “I’m SO lucky!”  Elise said, suddenly all smiles.  “I wanted to lose that tooth and that fall helped it come out.  It didn’t even hurt a bit!”

I listened to this interchange and found it amusing.  Elise gets a small sum of money in exchange for her teeth, while she gets no payment for busted lips, hence the difference in response between the two.

Optimists look at the silver lining.  Pessimists see the dark clouds.  Realists simply hope the clouds bring needed rain and not disastrous hail.

Christians are not commanded to look at silver linings or to de-emphasize the clouds.  They are to have joy, but there is something more.  They are commanded to focus their attention on Jesus.

“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 set down at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:2)

The point is that we are not to focus either on the present suffering or the silver linings, but on our example and leader.  He saw the rewards and was willing to go through much suffering for our gain.

It may be that we can gain some benefit from trying to see the glass as half full rather than half empty, but we gain the most from fixing our attention on our Lord and trying to follow His example.  It is a dark world, but He is our light and our salvation – whether we are experiencing a busted lip or a loose tooth.

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.