Truth

"I noticed at men's prayer meeting this morning that Mr. Bowman had some blood on his pants," I told me children.  "I asked him about it and he told me that the man who owns the Citgo station at the corner of Gladys Road and Marysville Road buys goats from him."

The children sat up, interested in my story.  "Every so often the Bowmans sell him a sheep and they take it to the gas station and he will pray some prayers over it and then they hold the sheep down and he butchers it.  They did that this morning and Mr. Bowman got some blood on his pants from the sheep."

"You're just joking, Dad," Vince said.

"No, Vince," I replied.  "This really happened."

"Vincent,"  Anna said.  "Don't be so spectacle!"

I laughed.  "I think the word you mean is skeptical, Anna,"  I said.

My children are often skeptical of my stories.  I guess it comes from my tendency to joke with them a lot.  At the same time, it is wise to be careful who we believe. 

The other day, I got a call on my cell phone and computer voice told me that it was calling from "Visa and Mastercard Headquarters" about my account.  While I do have a credit card with one of those esteemed creditors, as far as I know, they do not have a joint headquarters.  I decided to politely hang up and wait for the next robo call.

While there are plenty of voices that I do not listen to, I do find that words from the Bible stand out in a world of deception as speaking truth.  It isn't always easy to hear or to understand.

It speaks to me of the darkness in my heart and my need for a Savior.  It does not speak of my best life now, but rather of a road of cross bearing and suffering.  It speaks of a need to love those who are not worthy of love.  Most of all, it speaks of a Father's love for me.

God's Word is truth.

That's why it has stood the test of time.

That's why I believe it.

Breaking Glass

"What are you doing, Elliot?"  I asked my seven-year old son, who was making very odd, high pitched noises, instead of eating his very tasty supper.

"I'm trying to sing a note high enough it breaks my glass,"  Elliot told me.  "I though maybe something happened a little bit ago, but I can't sing high enough all of the time."

"I think it is actually harder to break glass with your voice than it seems,"  I said.  "I've never seen it done and I've lived a lot longer than you.  Beyond which, your cup is made of plastic.  I guarantee that you won't break it with your voice."

I did some research and found out that it is possible to shatter a glass with your voice.  It requires a very delicate glass, the right pitch, and extremely loud volumes -- somewhere around 100 decibels should do it.

While most of us will never break any type of glass with our voices, there is no doubt that they are very powerful.  It isn't their loudness, but what we say with them that impacts others.

James knew this thousands of years ago when he wrote about the tongue, "...but no human being can tame the tongue.  It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison."

I know that far too many times I have used my voice to wound others.  Even though I did no physical harm to them, the hurts are still very real.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but the scars from hurtful words take far longer to heal...

I need to give control of my words to God and speak with love in all situations.  For when my voice is uncontrolled, glass is the least important of the things that could be broken.

From Velcro to Shoelaces

"Why do I have to learn how to tie my shoes?"  My seven year old son asked in a somewhat disgruntled voice.  "Velcro is lots easier."

"Because only children and old men wear Velcro shoes,"  I said.  "And you are moving out of one group and it will be awhile before you hit the other one.  Beyond which, it is handy to be able to tie a knot that you might someday be able to also untie."


"But Velcro shoes are so much cooler than tie shoes,"  Elliot told me.  "And I'll waste so much time every day tying my shoes when I could just Velcro them on."

It is an odd conversation to have.  I probably have wasted years of my life tying my shoes, at the same time, I can't imagine wanting Velcro shoes before my hands get to arthritic to tie a regular shoe.  And don't get me started on Crocs!

At the same time, I think there is inside of us something that resists learning lessons that we don't think are important.  It isn't just tying shoes, but also things like state capitals, algebra, and all sorts of other things that school children complain are unimportant.

In a sense, God is our teacher as we get older.  Only the lessons He chooses for us aren't very easy and the answers can't be written neatly in a college ruled notebook.  His lessons for us are often titled things like "Faith," "Patience," and "Humility." 

I've not always been good at learning these challenging lessons and all too often I think to myself that I know enough about this one subject.  "God," I have prayed before.  "I know you know best and I think you are trying to teach me something, but could we move on to another lesson please?"

He gently keeps working with me.  His goal is for me to be like Jesus and truthfully that is my goal too, even if sometimes I struggle with what it takes to get there.

Lessons are seldom easy.  Even ones that involve moving from Velcro to shoe laces.