Antidote to Perfection
John Fischer
There's one thing that, more than anything, will cure the tendency we all have to appear like we have it all together when we don't, and that would be a close relationship. You just can't fake it with a real friend.
I wish we didn't have to do this to ourselves. We just don't seem to be able to let go of this need to look like we are better than we are. We walk on water. We have perfect children. God and us are just like this... Humbug.
Here's what we all know, but rarely take advantage of: You can fool some people, but you can't fool everybody; and the ones you can't fool are your best friends. (I suppose you could turn that around and say if you are successfully fooling everybody, you probably don't have any close relationships, and if that's the case, you might want to do something about that.)
In a staff meeting recently, Kay Warren (her husband is that guy who authored The Purpose Driven Life) shared that when she was suffering through the long night of her cancer, her closest friends were the ones that she could tell, “I don't get it. I don't get God's system -- whatever He's supposedly teaching me here. I don't get why I have to learn it this way.” And she remembers now that all they could say at the time was, “I don't get it either, but God is good.”
That's a pretty good response, actually. Job could have used a friend like this instead of the ones he had who were constantly trying out their latest theological theory on his situation while he had to live through the real suffering. Sometimes all you can say is: “Yeah, life is hard but God is good.” Or as my kids would say it: “Life sucks but God doesn't.”
But going back to our antidote… we don't even get this far if we are not honest. If we're not honest, we're not going to get any real help, and we're not going to have any real friends. Canadian folksinger Bruce Cockburn has a line in one of his songs about kicking at the darkness. I believe this is what a good friend does -- sits up with you in your misery and kicks at your darkness. It may not help much, but it's flesh and blood communion. God does touch us in invisible ways, but he uses people, too, and no one's going to be able to do this for us if we don't let anyone close enough to know what we are really going through.
So let's stop boring each other with our supposedly perfect lives, and get down to the godly business of having and being friends who really care.
PDL
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Monday, May 29, 2006
Rose Bowl Visitation
John Fischer
I had a significant encounter with the Holy Spirit Wednesday night while watching the much-anticipated Rose Bowl game between USC and Texas on television. It had nothing to do with what was happening on the field. It had everything to do with the build up.
I have been following the success of the southern California team since their undefeated season last year. I've always been a little enamored with the Trojan maroon and gold ever since as a kid I attended a USC vs. Notre Dame game in the Los Angeles Coliseum where USC came from a three-touchdown deficit at halftime to defeat the Irish in the final seconds. It left an indelible impression.
This week's game had plenty to grab your interest. This year's three Heisman Trophy candidates, two 12-0 teams, and a 34-game win streak on the line. They were calling it the match up of the century. Prior to the kickoff, one of the announcers spoke for me when he said, “So much hype has been heaped on this college football game I'm beginning to have a hard time swallowing.”
I had even experienced some anxiety over whether I was going to be able to see the game, but with my wife away on a business trip and my six-year-old asleep in my lap, I settled in for the showdown.
Midway through the game I realized how much I was into this. My muscles were actually tensing up every time Texas got the ball. (I was just doing my part to help the Trojan defense stop Vince Young. They didn't.) After USC blew three opportunities to build a big early lead, and it became obvious that the Texas quarterback was going to be able to do whatever he wanted with the ball, it suddenly hit me: “What if USC loses this game?” And then I had to laugh out loud because the answer came back, “Nothing important.”
And suddenly, for no reason at all, the love of God completely washed over me. It was as if He whispered, “Dear John. You got wrapped up in all this didn't you? Well let me just wrap you up in Me right now.”
That was it. No judgment. No guilt. Just the obvious: God… compared to a football game.
And here's what God didn't say: “Just think of all that time and energy you wasted on this game you could have put to better use.” I don't think God ever says things like that. We might think them, and they might even be true, but thoughts like that don't come from God. It's not in His nature to kick us when we come to Him; but to welcome us, and let the reality of His presence put everything else in perspective.
PDL
John Fischer
I had a significant encounter with the Holy Spirit Wednesday night while watching the much-anticipated Rose Bowl game between USC and Texas on television. It had nothing to do with what was happening on the field. It had everything to do with the build up.
I have been following the success of the southern California team since their undefeated season last year. I've always been a little enamored with the Trojan maroon and gold ever since as a kid I attended a USC vs. Notre Dame game in the Los Angeles Coliseum where USC came from a three-touchdown deficit at halftime to defeat the Irish in the final seconds. It left an indelible impression.
This week's game had plenty to grab your interest. This year's three Heisman Trophy candidates, two 12-0 teams, and a 34-game win streak on the line. They were calling it the match up of the century. Prior to the kickoff, one of the announcers spoke for me when he said, “So much hype has been heaped on this college football game I'm beginning to have a hard time swallowing.”
I had even experienced some anxiety over whether I was going to be able to see the game, but with my wife away on a business trip and my six-year-old asleep in my lap, I settled in for the showdown.
Midway through the game I realized how much I was into this. My muscles were actually tensing up every time Texas got the ball. (I was just doing my part to help the Trojan defense stop Vince Young. They didn't.) After USC blew three opportunities to build a big early lead, and it became obvious that the Texas quarterback was going to be able to do whatever he wanted with the ball, it suddenly hit me: “What if USC loses this game?” And then I had to laugh out loud because the answer came back, “Nothing important.”
And suddenly, for no reason at all, the love of God completely washed over me. It was as if He whispered, “Dear John. You got wrapped up in all this didn't you? Well let me just wrap you up in Me right now.”
That was it. No judgment. No guilt. Just the obvious: God… compared to a football game.
And here's what God didn't say: “Just think of all that time and energy you wasted on this game you could have put to better use.” I don't think God ever says things like that. We might think them, and they might even be true, but thoughts like that don't come from God. It's not in His nature to kick us when we come to Him; but to welcome us, and let the reality of His presence put everything else in perspective.
PDL
Friday, May 26, 2006
How Are You, Really?
John Fischer
“How are you?”
“Fine.”
“No, how are you, really?”
A good friend will ask the second question, just as a good friend will give an answer the first time that makes the second question unnecessary.
Real friendship is all about truth-telling, and our answer to the question “How are you?” says a lot about the depth of a relationship. For many of our more casual relationships, “Fine” will do just fine. We have neither the time nor the trust established for telling more. Quite honestly, people are usually not expecting to hear more from us than this.
But all of us need someone to whom we can answer, “Not well,” when in fact that is the case. Sometimes I've tested friends with “Do you really want to know?” In other words: Do you want the truth or shall we placate each other right now?
Unfortunately, I think we get into placating each other a lot as Christians, which is unfortunate because of all people, we can be the most honest because of Christ's forgiveness and God's love which remains a constant in our lives. Still, we have gotten the idea that good Christians are always happy and on top of things, and we try and perpetuate this myth. The tragedy is that we are probably all hurting in some way, but no one knows. All it takes is one person to jump out and risk the truth to discover they were among friends and fellow-sufferers all along.
Do you find yourself saying “Fine” a lot when inside you are aching to tell the real truth? Well step out and try a “Do you really want to know?” on someone you think can handle it. You might just find out that help and empathy are closer than you thought. If being a part of the family of God is worth anything, it should be worth a few “How are you, really?”s, don't you think?
PDL
John Fischer
“How are you?”
“Fine.”
“No, how are you, really?”
A good friend will ask the second question, just as a good friend will give an answer the first time that makes the second question unnecessary.
Real friendship is all about truth-telling, and our answer to the question “How are you?” says a lot about the depth of a relationship. For many of our more casual relationships, “Fine” will do just fine. We have neither the time nor the trust established for telling more. Quite honestly, people are usually not expecting to hear more from us than this.
But all of us need someone to whom we can answer, “Not well,” when in fact that is the case. Sometimes I've tested friends with “Do you really want to know?” In other words: Do you want the truth or shall we placate each other right now?
Unfortunately, I think we get into placating each other a lot as Christians, which is unfortunate because of all people, we can be the most honest because of Christ's forgiveness and God's love which remains a constant in our lives. Still, we have gotten the idea that good Christians are always happy and on top of things, and we try and perpetuate this myth. The tragedy is that we are probably all hurting in some way, but no one knows. All it takes is one person to jump out and risk the truth to discover they were among friends and fellow-sufferers all along.
Do you find yourself saying “Fine” a lot when inside you are aching to tell the real truth? Well step out and try a “Do you really want to know?” on someone you think can handle it. You might just find out that help and empathy are closer than you thought. If being a part of the family of God is worth anything, it should be worth a few “How are you, really?”s, don't you think?
PDL
How Are You, Really?
John Fischer
“How are you?”
“Fine.”
“No, how are you, really?”
A good friend will ask the second question, just as a good friend will give an answer the first time that makes the second question unnecessary.
Real friendship is all about truth-telling, and our answer to the question “How are you?” says a lot about the depth of a relationship. For many of our more casual relationships, “Fine” will do just fine. We have neither the time nor the trust established for telling more. Quite honestly, people are usually not expecting to hear more from us than this.
But all of us need someone to whom we can answer, “Not well,” when in fact that is the case. Sometimes I've tested friends with “Do you really want to know?” In other words: Do you want the truth or shall we placate each other right now?
Unfortunately, I think we get into placating each other a lot as Christians, which is unfortunate because of all people, we can be the most honest because of Christ's forgiveness and God's love which remains a constant in our lives. Still, we have gotten the idea that good Christians are always happy and on top of things, and we try and perpetuate this myth. The tragedy is that we are probably all hurting in some way, but no one knows. All it takes is one person to jump out and risk the truth to discover they were among friends and fellow-sufferers all along.
Do you find yourself saying “Fine” a lot when inside you are aching to tell the real truth? Well step out and try a “Do you really want to know?” on someone you think can handle it. You might just find out that help and empathy are closer than you thought. If being a part of the family of God is worth anything, it should be worth a few “How are you, really?”s, don't you think?
PDL
John Fischer
“How are you?”
“Fine.”
“No, how are you, really?”
A good friend will ask the second question, just as a good friend will give an answer the first time that makes the second question unnecessary.
Real friendship is all about truth-telling, and our answer to the question “How are you?” says a lot about the depth of a relationship. For many of our more casual relationships, “Fine” will do just fine. We have neither the time nor the trust established for telling more. Quite honestly, people are usually not expecting to hear more from us than this.
But all of us need someone to whom we can answer, “Not well,” when in fact that is the case. Sometimes I've tested friends with “Do you really want to know?” In other words: Do you want the truth or shall we placate each other right now?
Unfortunately, I think we get into placating each other a lot as Christians, which is unfortunate because of all people, we can be the most honest because of Christ's forgiveness and God's love which remains a constant in our lives. Still, we have gotten the idea that good Christians are always happy and on top of things, and we try and perpetuate this myth. The tragedy is that we are probably all hurting in some way, but no one knows. All it takes is one person to jump out and risk the truth to discover they were among friends and fellow-sufferers all along.
Do you find yourself saying “Fine” a lot when inside you are aching to tell the real truth? Well step out and try a “Do you really want to know?” on someone you think can handle it. You might just find out that help and empathy are closer than you thought. If being a part of the family of God is worth anything, it should be worth a few “How are you, really?”s, don't you think?
PDL
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Blitzen at the Door
John Fischer
We have a little twelve-pound Chihuahua that was my wife's Christmas present a year ago. I grimaced when I found out, a few days before Christmas, that this was what she really wanted. I was of the persuasion that real dogs are supposed to be big, but I now have to admit, this little addition to our family has brought us much joy and has become a source of boundless entertainment. Not hurting for personality, he prances about with an air of respectability that makes you not want to embarrass him by laughing in his face until you remember he is a dog and probably won't take it personally. He has a little wrinkled brow that provides a serious addition to the humor of his antics. We called him Blitzen because we heard he was a reindeer-head Chihuahua and he came to us at Christmastime, but Reepicheep, the serious little mouse in the Chronicles of Narnia would also suit his character well.
Lately, Blitzen has taken to exhibiting a strange behavior that has him refusing to come in the front door, as if some invisible force is preventing him from entering the house. It works the same way going out. He will stop short of the door and no amount of coaxing will get him across the threshold. We have to pick him up and carry him.
It's both comical and pathetic to watch him sitting there whining and shaking with desire to cross, but completely unable to overcome whatever unseen barrier it is that he imagines. You can get down on your hands and knees as little as two feet away, and beg him to come to you, but he won't. Perhaps some bad experience -- whether getting caught in the door or slipping on the floor just inside -- has become frozen in his memory, but he cannot shake it.
I am convinced God has given us pets to see the silly things we do, and in this case, I can't help but see my own fears when he does this. What are those thresholds in my life that I can't cross because of some imaginary fear or bad experience from the past that haunts me? More often than not, our fears are just like this -- invisible barriers to faith that keep us from moving on in our lives. Satan is a real force, and he can set difficult things in our paths, but I rather think that most of the time he locks us up in the smoke and mirrors of our imaginations.
If Blitzen would just take one step out, he would find there is nothing to fear, and not only that, there are strong, loving hands waiting for him on the other side. In such situations, our moving ahead in faith (and finding the same results, I might add) isn't any more complicated than that.
I'm on an island at a busy intersection
I can't go forward. I can't turn back
Can't see the future
It's getting away from me
I just watch the tail lights glowing
One step closer to knowing
One step closer to knowing
PDL
John Fischer
We have a little twelve-pound Chihuahua that was my wife's Christmas present a year ago. I grimaced when I found out, a few days before Christmas, that this was what she really wanted. I was of the persuasion that real dogs are supposed to be big, but I now have to admit, this little addition to our family has brought us much joy and has become a source of boundless entertainment. Not hurting for personality, he prances about with an air of respectability that makes you not want to embarrass him by laughing in his face until you remember he is a dog and probably won't take it personally. He has a little wrinkled brow that provides a serious addition to the humor of his antics. We called him Blitzen because we heard he was a reindeer-head Chihuahua and he came to us at Christmastime, but Reepicheep, the serious little mouse in the Chronicles of Narnia would also suit his character well.
Lately, Blitzen has taken to exhibiting a strange behavior that has him refusing to come in the front door, as if some invisible force is preventing him from entering the house. It works the same way going out. He will stop short of the door and no amount of coaxing will get him across the threshold. We have to pick him up and carry him.
It's both comical and pathetic to watch him sitting there whining and shaking with desire to cross, but completely unable to overcome whatever unseen barrier it is that he imagines. You can get down on your hands and knees as little as two feet away, and beg him to come to you, but he won't. Perhaps some bad experience -- whether getting caught in the door or slipping on the floor just inside -- has become frozen in his memory, but he cannot shake it.
I am convinced God has given us pets to see the silly things we do, and in this case, I can't help but see my own fears when he does this. What are those thresholds in my life that I can't cross because of some imaginary fear or bad experience from the past that haunts me? More often than not, our fears are just like this -- invisible barriers to faith that keep us from moving on in our lives. Satan is a real force, and he can set difficult things in our paths, but I rather think that most of the time he locks us up in the smoke and mirrors of our imaginations.
If Blitzen would just take one step out, he would find there is nothing to fear, and not only that, there are strong, loving hands waiting for him on the other side. In such situations, our moving ahead in faith (and finding the same results, I might add) isn't any more complicated than that.
I'm on an island at a busy intersection
I can't go forward. I can't turn back
Can't see the future
It's getting away from me
I just watch the tail lights glowing
One step closer to knowing
One step closer to knowing
PDL
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Prayers and Blessings
John Fischer
“God bless you and your whole family.” That's what the Korean owner of the dry cleaning business we frequent in town tells me often. I relish it when he does this. I do not take it as a glib “Have a nice day” statement. I take it as an official blessing on my family, my dogs and all inanimate objects in my possession. (Believe me, my car really needs it!)
The owner is a deeply religious man. He has a scripture verse over the front counter of his store, and he often has a Korean church service playing on the radio. I know it's church because I recognize the familiar contemporary choruses even though the words are in another language. His blessings are heartfelt and sincere, and perhaps grow out of his own cultural tradition, but I am always moved by this. Sometimes his blessing hits me at a time when I am least expecting it and almost brings me to tears.
Actually I'm out to get all the blessings and prayers I can muster because my mother, who used to pray regularly for me (and 417 others) has been a hard act to follow. (We know the number because after she died, we counted all the pictures and notes stuck to the corkboard in her closet where she spent hours praying every day.) When she passed away I could feel something leave me.
I don't know about you, but I think we need to take prayer and blessing more seriously. I need it and others need it from me. What is a blessing anyway? Is it magical or mystical? No. I believe it is simply calling on God on behalf of others and asking him to bring them what they need.
Even recently I received an email blessing from one of our devotional readers: “May the Lord bless you and your family with unexpected blessings this year. May anticipated difficulties fail to materialize.” I especially like that second part. I take that to be: “May the things you're afraid might happen, not happen.” Or what I think he's really saying is: “May you get over your fears, and may reality prove them to be unfounded.” Blitzen and I need that blessing, especially.*
How about it? Think of someone you can bless today, and then go out and actually do it with a specific blessing like this. Bless them as an official act. Jesus once told his disciples "As you enter the house, give it your greeting. If the house is worthy, give it your blessing of peace. But if it is not worthy, take back your blessing of peace” (Matt 10:12-13 NASB).
That sounds pretty official to me.
PDL
John Fischer
“God bless you and your whole family.” That's what the Korean owner of the dry cleaning business we frequent in town tells me often. I relish it when he does this. I do not take it as a glib “Have a nice day” statement. I take it as an official blessing on my family, my dogs and all inanimate objects in my possession. (Believe me, my car really needs it!)
The owner is a deeply religious man. He has a scripture verse over the front counter of his store, and he often has a Korean church service playing on the radio. I know it's church because I recognize the familiar contemporary choruses even though the words are in another language. His blessings are heartfelt and sincere, and perhaps grow out of his own cultural tradition, but I am always moved by this. Sometimes his blessing hits me at a time when I am least expecting it and almost brings me to tears.
Actually I'm out to get all the blessings and prayers I can muster because my mother, who used to pray regularly for me (and 417 others) has been a hard act to follow. (We know the number because after she died, we counted all the pictures and notes stuck to the corkboard in her closet where she spent hours praying every day.) When she passed away I could feel something leave me.
I don't know about you, but I think we need to take prayer and blessing more seriously. I need it and others need it from me. What is a blessing anyway? Is it magical or mystical? No. I believe it is simply calling on God on behalf of others and asking him to bring them what they need.
Even recently I received an email blessing from one of our devotional readers: “May the Lord bless you and your family with unexpected blessings this year. May anticipated difficulties fail to materialize.” I especially like that second part. I take that to be: “May the things you're afraid might happen, not happen.” Or what I think he's really saying is: “May you get over your fears, and may reality prove them to be unfounded.” Blitzen and I need that blessing, especially.*
How about it? Think of someone you can bless today, and then go out and actually do it with a specific blessing like this. Bless them as an official act. Jesus once told his disciples "As you enter the house, give it your greeting. If the house is worthy, give it your blessing of peace. But if it is not worthy, take back your blessing of peace” (Matt 10:12-13 NASB).
That sounds pretty official to me.
PDL
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Waiting to Be Loved
John Fischer
The Lord is coming back! Christ’s return is imminent! Every generation believes theirs will be the one to see it. I certainly did, having been a young adult during the Jesus movement in the early 1970s. We were sure the return of Christ was right around the corner. We wrote songs about it. Hal Lindsay wrote a book about it. (The Late Great Planet Earth) Larry Norman even wrote a song to leave behind after we were gone! (“I Wish We’d All Been Ready”)
And here we are, thirty years later, balding “Jesus people” going to work and trying to provide a future for our children (and grandchildren!). Believe me, the Lord has heard from me a few times about this. There was something very glamorous about being part of a revival that would usher in the last days and the return of Christ, especially when you were twenty-four years old and single with nothing more than a pack on your back and a guitar at your side. Besides, we were part of a generation that prided itself in being anti-establishment, anti-mortgage, anti-credit card, and anti-insurance. We were going to just be one big love-in, living off the land and taking care of each other until Christ returned, which wasn’t supposed to be more than two or three years, max.
I reflect back on those years sometimes and see how selfish we were. Had we gotten our wish, many of you who are reading this now would not have existed. I think in some ways, every generation wants to be the last, especially when we face the dark side of our existence and long for heaven where there will be no more pain or sorrow.
But it’s not about us. It’s about all those who haven’t yet come into the family. “The Lord isn’t really being slow about His promise to return, as some people think. No, He is being patient for your sake. He does not want anyone to perish, so He is giving more time for everyone to repent” (2 Peter 3:9 NLT).
Shame on us for thinking only of ourselves! We’re so quick to scramble on the ark and then close the door and let the rains come. God is more concerned about those who might be left behind than we are, or else He would have returned years ago.
We need a new way of thinking about the Lord’s return. We can spend an inordinate amount of time picking over scripture trying to figure out exactly when it will happen, and then get into arguments with each other over exactly how we think it will happen, when the only reason it hasn’t happened yet is standing outside our door, waiting for our attention. God hasn’t returned for only one reason, someone who needs to know hasn’t heard about Him yet.
PDL
John Fischer
The Lord is coming back! Christ’s return is imminent! Every generation believes theirs will be the one to see it. I certainly did, having been a young adult during the Jesus movement in the early 1970s. We were sure the return of Christ was right around the corner. We wrote songs about it. Hal Lindsay wrote a book about it. (The Late Great Planet Earth) Larry Norman even wrote a song to leave behind after we were gone! (“I Wish We’d All Been Ready”)
And here we are, thirty years later, balding “Jesus people” going to work and trying to provide a future for our children (and grandchildren!). Believe me, the Lord has heard from me a few times about this. There was something very glamorous about being part of a revival that would usher in the last days and the return of Christ, especially when you were twenty-four years old and single with nothing more than a pack on your back and a guitar at your side. Besides, we were part of a generation that prided itself in being anti-establishment, anti-mortgage, anti-credit card, and anti-insurance. We were going to just be one big love-in, living off the land and taking care of each other until Christ returned, which wasn’t supposed to be more than two or three years, max.
I reflect back on those years sometimes and see how selfish we were. Had we gotten our wish, many of you who are reading this now would not have existed. I think in some ways, every generation wants to be the last, especially when we face the dark side of our existence and long for heaven where there will be no more pain or sorrow.
But it’s not about us. It’s about all those who haven’t yet come into the family. “The Lord isn’t really being slow about His promise to return, as some people think. No, He is being patient for your sake. He does not want anyone to perish, so He is giving more time for everyone to repent” (2 Peter 3:9 NLT).
Shame on us for thinking only of ourselves! We’re so quick to scramble on the ark and then close the door and let the rains come. God is more concerned about those who might be left behind than we are, or else He would have returned years ago.
We need a new way of thinking about the Lord’s return. We can spend an inordinate amount of time picking over scripture trying to figure out exactly when it will happen, and then get into arguments with each other over exactly how we think it will happen, when the only reason it hasn’t happened yet is standing outside our door, waiting for our attention. God hasn’t returned for only one reason, someone who needs to know hasn’t heard about Him yet.
PDL
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Hollow Bones
John Fischer
While watching a PBS children's program yesterday with my son, there was a question presented as to why a bird can fly and a monkey can't. I felt like raising my hand and shouting, “Oh I know! I know! Please call on me!” That's because I know that a bird was created by God to fly, but I also know that fact would probably not fly on PBS, and sure enough, the answer came back that the bird's bones were hollow, thus making it lighter. Well that was amazing enough. I was thinking about more obvious things like wings and feathers that the monkey didn't have, and they brought up this thing that I had forgotten (if I ever knew it) about a bird's bones being hollow. I stopped right then and there and worshiped God for hollow bones!
Yes I worshiped God watching PBS. Some people probably can't imagine this happening, but truth is part of my possession in knowing Christ, and whenever I can add to it about the world He created, that is worthy of worship.
Think of how hard it is to explain wings and feathers and hollow bones without a Creator to design them. I almost feel a little sorry for people who have to do this. When you start looking with any care into the natural world of plants and animals, let alone human beings and the perfectly balanced ecosystem in which all these dwell, those who factor God out of the equation have a lot to explain. It's virtually impossible to do, and yet, even some of the smartest among us persist in trying. It's amazing to what lengths some people will go in order to explain the world without God.
There is a battle going on in our courts over teaching evolution in public schools and adding intelligent design as an alternative theory. This is not the time and place to discuss this issue except to say that, whatever is taught in the classroom, every creature in existence is already a grand part of God's self-evident creativity walking, crawling, swimming or flying about in broad daylight. Every day and night is a grand symphony of sight and sound all declaring God's glory and inviting us to praise Him. A human court is such a small thing when the verdict is already in!
Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!
(Hollow bones! Really now. Who would have thought of that? How I love those hollow bones!)
PDL
John Fischer
While watching a PBS children's program yesterday with my son, there was a question presented as to why a bird can fly and a monkey can't. I felt like raising my hand and shouting, “Oh I know! I know! Please call on me!” That's because I know that a bird was created by God to fly, but I also know that fact would probably not fly on PBS, and sure enough, the answer came back that the bird's bones were hollow, thus making it lighter. Well that was amazing enough. I was thinking about more obvious things like wings and feathers that the monkey didn't have, and they brought up this thing that I had forgotten (if I ever knew it) about a bird's bones being hollow. I stopped right then and there and worshiped God for hollow bones!
Yes I worshiped God watching PBS. Some people probably can't imagine this happening, but truth is part of my possession in knowing Christ, and whenever I can add to it about the world He created, that is worthy of worship.
Think of how hard it is to explain wings and feathers and hollow bones without a Creator to design them. I almost feel a little sorry for people who have to do this. When you start looking with any care into the natural world of plants and animals, let alone human beings and the perfectly balanced ecosystem in which all these dwell, those who factor God out of the equation have a lot to explain. It's virtually impossible to do, and yet, even some of the smartest among us persist in trying. It's amazing to what lengths some people will go in order to explain the world without God.
There is a battle going on in our courts over teaching evolution in public schools and adding intelligent design as an alternative theory. This is not the time and place to discuss this issue except to say that, whatever is taught in the classroom, every creature in existence is already a grand part of God's self-evident creativity walking, crawling, swimming or flying about in broad daylight. Every day and night is a grand symphony of sight and sound all declaring God's glory and inviting us to praise Him. A human court is such a small thing when the verdict is already in!
Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!
(Hollow bones! Really now. Who would have thought of that? How I love those hollow bones!)
PDL
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
The Big, Bad Dinosaur
John Fischer
Chandler, my six-year-old son, had a bad dream last night. He dreamed I was a “big, hungry, giant, bad dinosaur.” When I asked him what I was doing in his dream he said with a smile that didn't make me feel any better about this, “You were eating me!”
Except for the alarming nature of the idea itself, he didn't give me any reason to be concerned. It wasn't something that woke him up in the middle of the night and had him running to his mother for comfort. He didn't appear to lose any sleep over it, and the telling of it was more amusing to him than anything.
This is all pretty much in keeping with what I've experienced with my two older children, who, when I would get really mad at them, would not be able to keep themselves from laughing. It must be something about me when I get really upset that makes me appear irresistibly funny. (My wife says it's the veins that pop out on my forehead when my face turns red.) Of course I take this as lack of respect, which makes me even madder, and apparently, that much funnier. And when I turn to my wife for help, I usually get the same treatment. She bursts out laughing too. I'm convinced they are in cahoots over this.
Well, for years I assumed this was a conspiracy to undermine my authority. What happened to the good old days when Dad was feared and respected? When we tiptoed around him like being on a fault line that could erupt any minute and shake our world to bits?
Is that what authority is -- a raging bull (or in this case… dinosaur)? Well I am beginning to realize it isn't. Authority has a lot more to do with being responsible than it does with being angry or demanding respect. Authority is not something you bull your way into; it's something you earn. And when you have it, you don't have to demand it. Jesus had it -- had the ultimate authority of God Himself -- and He never lorded over anyone. In fact, He used His authority to serve. He needed nothing, so He could give everything He had.
Not that children shouldn't learn to respect their parents. Honoring your father and mother is one of the Ten Commandments. It's just that you don't force respect. That only makes you look like a big bad dinosaur, and if those you are trying to impress don't have the luxury of laughing in your face, you can bet they are laughing behind your back.
A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. (Proverbs 15:1)
PDL
John Fischer
Chandler, my six-year-old son, had a bad dream last night. He dreamed I was a “big, hungry, giant, bad dinosaur.” When I asked him what I was doing in his dream he said with a smile that didn't make me feel any better about this, “You were eating me!”
Except for the alarming nature of the idea itself, he didn't give me any reason to be concerned. It wasn't something that woke him up in the middle of the night and had him running to his mother for comfort. He didn't appear to lose any sleep over it, and the telling of it was more amusing to him than anything.
This is all pretty much in keeping with what I've experienced with my two older children, who, when I would get really mad at them, would not be able to keep themselves from laughing. It must be something about me when I get really upset that makes me appear irresistibly funny. (My wife says it's the veins that pop out on my forehead when my face turns red.) Of course I take this as lack of respect, which makes me even madder, and apparently, that much funnier. And when I turn to my wife for help, I usually get the same treatment. She bursts out laughing too. I'm convinced they are in cahoots over this.
Well, for years I assumed this was a conspiracy to undermine my authority. What happened to the good old days when Dad was feared and respected? When we tiptoed around him like being on a fault line that could erupt any minute and shake our world to bits?
Is that what authority is -- a raging bull (or in this case… dinosaur)? Well I am beginning to realize it isn't. Authority has a lot more to do with being responsible than it does with being angry or demanding respect. Authority is not something you bull your way into; it's something you earn. And when you have it, you don't have to demand it. Jesus had it -- had the ultimate authority of God Himself -- and He never lorded over anyone. In fact, He used His authority to serve. He needed nothing, so He could give everything He had.
Not that children shouldn't learn to respect their parents. Honoring your father and mother is one of the Ten Commandments. It's just that you don't force respect. That only makes you look like a big bad dinosaur, and if those you are trying to impress don't have the luxury of laughing in your face, you can bet they are laughing behind your back.
A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. (Proverbs 15:1)
PDL