The Message of the Pepper

"Wow, Dad, that's a lot of stuff on your hamburger," Elliot said to me.

I looked up, a bit surprised from the construction site on my plate.  On my bun was a burger, followed by a thick slice of pepper jack cheese, followed by lettuce, two tomato slices, pickles and a mixture of southwest spicy mustard and ketchup.  It was definitely the sort of edifice to make the designers of the pyramids jealous.

"It's almost done," I said.  From a plate I took four slices of jalapeno pepper and placed them on top of my sandwich.  Now, I usually don't put jalapenos on my sandwiches, but my beautiful wife had decided to get a few jalapeno pepper plants for our garden and no one else in my family would eat them.  Being a good steward, I didn't want to see them go to waste.

I placed the top part of the bun on top and looked my creation in the eye.  Then I took a large bite. 

For a moment, everything tasted great with all of the normal tastes mixing around my taste buds and then it was all overwhelmed with a strong flavor of jalapeno.  The capsaicin was kicking in.

I know that there are many peppers that are a lot hotter than jalapenos, but honestly, the whole time I was eating the sandwich all I could taste was the spicy peppers and even an hour later, my tongue was still tingling from the experience.

I thought that next time I might just go a bit lighter on the peppers -- or maybe leave them off entirely.

It made me think about the impact that each one of us has on others.  Obviously there are many different parts of our personalities and character that strike people when we meet them, but often there is something about us that stands out and sticks with people. 

It might be our kindness, generosity, or it could just as easily be our selfishness and unwillingness to listen.  There is one thing that people will carry away from their time with us.

Jesus told His followers "By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."

This then is the way to let those around know who we are following and to leave an impression that lasts far longer than a spicy pepper does on a protesting tongue.

Another Birthday

"Today is your birthday?"  The lady asked.  She sounded surprised, as though it was unusual for doctors to work on their birthday.  "So what are you doing for it?"

I thought for a bit.  "Well," I said.  "I guess I'm going to go to the nursing home tonight."  I could she see she was taken aback.  "Oh, not to stay," I reassured her.   "I have a couple more years till then.  Our church sings at a nursing home in Lynchburg on some Wednesday evenings."

"That sounds interesting," she said.

"And then I thought for the rest of the day I would try to treat my patients with a lot of compassion.  The way Jesus would treat them," I finished with a flourish.  "But no, I'm not doing anything extra special today otherwise."

Birthdays roll around every year whether we want them to or not.  They are typically days when I hear my children singing Happy Birthday and my Facebook account blows up with Happy Birthday wishes.  They are days too of feeling a bit older and not so much wiser.

To me, though, birthdays feel like a time to take stock of my situation, not necessarily asking the question "What am I doing?"  (Although that is a good question).  But, "How am I doing what I am doing?"

I am taking care of people who are dealing with pain and illness and I have done that for many years.  It is easy over that time to lose a sense of compassion and to become a little cynical about people and their motivations.  Cynical doctors can still get through their days just as easily as non-cynical doctors, but I'm afraid they don't tend to leave their patients with as much hope and joy.

As I launch out into another year, I pray it would be full, not only of taking care of the needs of my patients, but of doing so in a compassionate way.   If I can treat people as Jesus would treat them, I believe I can make a difference -- not because of me but because of His power working in me.

That's my birthday wish for this coming year.

Altered Words

"I just figured out the words to Amazing Grace, Dad," Elliot told me, a little proudly.

"Really, which part were you struggling with?"  I asked, mentally scanning the lines.  Maybe, 'I once was blond but now I see?' was the one.

"I thought for the longest time that it said, 'To save a wrench like me.'  Now I know it's saying the word wretch,"  Elliot said.

I laughed.  "Yes, the word is wretch and not wrench."

My children aren't always good with the words of songs by memory and when they don't know a word, they often substitute something that sounds similar.

I suppose they take after their dad there...

The imagery in the song Amazing Grace stands out.  First, there is a picture of humans without grace -- blind, lost, and wretched.  This is crucial for us to understand so that we can connect with how amazing the grace must be to save us.

Perhaps it is easy to think that it took less grace to save someone like me, because I am a little better person than some others that I know.  Nothing could be further from the truth.

It truly took Amazing Grace and Love Beyond Degree to Save a Wrench Like Me.

Reading and Understanding

"Dad, what's an alibi?"  Elliot asked me.  Actually, he said the word 'Alee-bee' which made it tough to figure out what he was asking.

"An alibi is the place and people you were with at the time when a crime was committed," I said, although if I was a good dad, I would probably have made him go look it up in the dictionary.

"That doesn't make sense," Elliot said.  "In this Encyclopedia Brown book he tells this girl that her alibi is all wet.  But how could you have a wet alibi?  It's not like she was swimming or anything."

Without waiting, he turned back to his book.  A second later he asked, "What does it mean to file something?"

"It means to put it in some sort of an organizing place -- like a filing cabinet,"  I said.

"That doesn't make any sense either,"  Elliot said.  "Oh, I see, there must be a special place that some people put their fingernails instead of a trash can."

I hastened to explain the word file in this context.  At the same time, it was clear to me that Elliot wasn't understanding all of the stories in this book.

It strikes me that many people deal with the Bible in this fashion.  They may understand the words, but the deeper meaning of the verses and stories isn't clear to them.

It is only as we read it with our heavenly Father at our side and listen to His voice that we can have a true understanding of the passages.  It is only then that God's Word will make a difference in our lives.

Seeing Jesus

"Dad," Elliot whispered to me in the middle of church.  "Sp, sp, sp, sp!"

I must confess that I'm not very good at reading lips and I couldn't catch a word my son was saying.  "What?"  I whispered back.

"Sp, sp, sp, sp!"  He repeated.  I still couldn't catch anything that he was trying to say.

"Sure, you can go to the bathroom," I said, taking a stab at what I guessed he was asking for.

"No," he said.  Finally, leaning close to my ear, he said, "I can't see the preacher!"

Unfortunately, I didn't have any easy solution for the situation.  When you are eight, you often find that even relatively short people are tall.  Elliot was just having his line of view blocked by someone who was probably 18 inches too tall (even when they were sitting down).

The passage of Scripture came to me of some nameless Greek Jews who came to the Apostle Philip with a simple request.  "Sir, we would see Jesus."  (John 12:21)  That's all we know about them.  We never even find out if they met Jesus after their request.

"We would like to see Jesus."

It seems that this is an awfully big need in our world.  People just cannot see Jesus from where they are sitting.  This is tragic, because it is the thing that this world needs the most.

At the same time, often the best way for people to see Jesus is to see His face reflected in the lives of His followers.  I pray that others might see Jesus in my life.  I may be the closest thing to Jesus that many may see and I want to reflect His love and goodness in all of the interactions I have with others.

Most of all, I pray that the view of Him would not be obstructed by the very people who should be pointing to Him, His followers.

Pancakes and Chocolate Donuts

"Well," I said.  "It looks as though your diabetes isn't in too bad control.  Your A1C is 6.6 percent which means that your average sugar is around 140."

"That's great," the older lady told me.  "I think to celebrate I'm going to go to the Golden Corral and eat a mess of pancakes!"

"Oh," I said.  "That's really not going to help keep things in line."

"At least I'm not going to Walmart," she said.  "They have donuts there that I love!  They have thick chocolate icing on them that's to die for!"

"Oh," I said, at a loss for words.  Neither pancakes or donuts is on a glucose friendly diet.  I had visions of her next A1C test being 12.

For some reason, human nature seems to lead us to reward ourselves with the very things that we are denying ourselves.  A diabetic who has just gotten her A1C under control rewards herself with chocolate donuts.  A man who has just lost fifty pounds rewards himself with a trip to his favorite buffet.

We allow the enemy we are fighting to set up a camp in an area where we have already won the battle.  The fight begins again.

It is this way with sin as well.  What we need is not control, but a change of our desires and a knowledge that we will not let those desires back in control, even for a single meal.

Otherwise we will end up like a woman with diabetes dreaming of a plate stacked high with pancakes.

With chocolate donuts on the side.

"Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires."  Romans 6:12

Cinnamon Rolls and Chili

"I want a Cinnamon Roll!"  Victoria announced in a very clear, firm voice.  Elaine had just finished baking some of those delicacies and they smelled good enough to have caused even the mouth of a graven image to water.

"I'm afraid you haven't finished your chili from supper," I said.  "If you eat that, then you can have one."

"No!"  Came back the answer.  "Chili is soup and I don't like soup!"

It was interesting, as I'd never heard Victoria express this dislike of soup before.  My guess though, was that compared with Cinnamon Rolls, Chili Soup no longer sounded delectable.

"You just have to eat it first," Elaine said.  "Dessert can't be the first thing you eat at your meal."

(I have often violated this rule and often start a meal with a cookie when no one is watching, but we'll leave that for another day).

I suppose it is a testament to what awesome parents Elaine and I are that we didn't cave to our incredibly stubborn four year old.  While Victoria is very vocal in her wishes, she is just expressing a basic human trait -- the desire to skip over the difficult things in life.

There may be times that we can bypass the unenjoyable things to go to those things we like more, but generally, when we do that the bypassed things continue to sit there, just waiting for us to start on them.

So much better just to do things in the order we face them.  Because Chili Soup must precede Cinnamon Rolls.  Always.  Just ask Victoria.

A Trip to the Dentist

I went to the dentist yesterday.

I suppose I should be pretty excited to go there.  After all, I have never had to have a filling or any serious work done in my mouth.  All the same, when the hygienist got her instruments of torture stuck between my molars and started commenting on how tight my teeth were together, I wince more than a little on the inside.

Afterward, as I walked to my truck, a little traumatized, I could hear my mother's voice.  "But did it kill you?"

And of course, it didn't.  Kill me, that is.

In life there are many things that won't kill you, but are still no fun to go through.  A surprisingly high number of them revolve around medical tests and procedures.

There are all sorts of statements about painful situations that I don't believe.  From the silly "No pain, no gain!" to the simply not true "What does not kill me will only make me stronger," these statements are uniformly ridiculous and designed to try to make us feel good about pain.

There are plenty of reasons that we endure suffering.  One of the biggest reasons (and the reason I see the dentist routinely) is hopefully to avoid worse suffering in the future.  I'd rather have my teeth cleaned regularly than end up losing them.

This is the reason that most people go through medical tests.

Christians go through suffering for a different reason.  Paul said in the book of Romans "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us."  In other words, heaven is worth more than anything we have to go through in this life.

I hope we can keep that glory in mind, even on days when things aren't going so well. 

I don't know that I will ever enjoy suffering, but by God's grace, I can endure anything I face.

Even a trip to the dentist.

I Want to Talk!

Our family was sitting around the table with General Hubbub reigning.  Everyone was in the process of saying something.  Our children were sharing something they'd read, or some odd trivia they'd found on a map of Virginia, or something that had happened to them (and not doing with library voices either).

In the midst of this Victoria's plaintive voice came wailing, "I want to talk!"

We were all silent for a few moments and then I asked her, in the stillness, "What do you want to say, Victoria?"

There was another pause, then she said, "I don't know."

I suppose the thing is not so much that Victoria wanted to talk as she wanted to have someone else listen to her and pay attention to her.

I think that all of our children have had similar moments.  These are times when they feel as though they have not had enough attention from their family and cry out for it in one way or another.

They come by this honestly, because I too have developed some attention seeking behaviors at certain immature moments.  While my job is listening to others, there are more than a few times that I have wanted someone to listen to me.

The blessing is that God is always listening.  He tells us in the book of Isaiah "Before they call I will answer; while they are yet speaking I will hear."

Many times that is all I need.  I don't need someone to solve every problem or part the Red Sea for me.  I just need a Heavenly Father who listen to how my day  was and tell me that He cares and just be there to hear me and love me.

And while my Father in heaven created the Universe, sometimes I think His willingness to listen to me is His most miraculous trait of all.

Tomatoes in Heaven?

"Dad, will there be tomatoes in heaven?"  My eight year old son asked me, as he poked at the garden salad in his plate.

"Probably so," I said, without thinking too much about the question.

"Oh," Elliot said, somewhat crestfallen.  "But I thought there would only be things we like in heaven."

To be clear, Elliot doesn't like tomatoes.  He can eat them, but seemingly only with a healthy dose of ranch dressing added to them.

There was a long pause as my children digested the fact that there might be food they wouldn't like in glory.  "Well, I just won't eat them!"  Elliot said with finality.

"Neither will I!"  Echoed Vince and Victoria.

Of course, I don't actually know about the tomato situation in heaven.  It just isn't mentioned in the Bible -- probably because it isn't particularly important.

At the same time, I think the mistake many (including my children) make is to think that we will want and like the same things in heaven that we do here on earth.  The Apostle John wrote in his first letter "Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when He appears we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He is." (I John 3:3)

Just as our tastes and desires change when we become a Christian, they will change again when we see Jesus in that day.  The blessing is that we will be like Him for all eternity.

Possibly that means that people who only like ketchup will like tomatoes too, but that is probably just the tiniest part of what it means to be like Jesus.

Heaven will be wonderful.  Even if there are tomatoes there.

A Box of Packing Peanuts

"Oh, wow!"  My (now eight year old) son, Elliot said. "What are you going to do with those?"

"I'm not sure," I said.  "I suppose just throw them away.  I'm not sure what you can do with packing peanuts if you don't have anything to pack."

I had just opened a box full of greenish colored packing peanuts with one small item wedged somewhere in the middle.  Elliot grabbed a couple out.  Then he popped one in his mouth.

"Elliot,"  I said, a little sharply I'm afraid.  "Don't eat that.  It isn't good for you."

Elliot quickly swallowed the packing peanut.  "But Dad," he said.  "They're so good -- just airy and chewy.  I've eaten them a lot before and they never hurt me."

"That doesn't mean that they are good for you," I said, a little at a loss for words.

I know that people eat food all of the time that has minimal nutritional value, but seldom does it contain quite as little as Styrofoam packing peanuts do.  I have often thought that cheese puffs were probably just fried packing peanuts with artificial cheddar dust sprinkled on them, but I'm not totally sure about that.  Still, I have never had a desire to pop one of those little squeezy items in my mouth either, even if they aren't going to kill me immediately.

I think there is a human tendency to pursue foods that taste good, regardless of their nutritional content.  We really don't much more excuse to eat them other than the simple fact that we enjoy them.

The goal should be to get to the place where we make wiser choices, to think about the food and activities we choose for ourselves with more regard than simply to whether we enjoy them.  God created us with minds that we can use to discern what is good for us.

Eating a box of packing peanuts certainly isn't.

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.