UPCI – Mostly From Memory

Old Men

I want to be an old man one day. I want to drive a squeaky clean pickup truck to meet my friends for breakfast at Jack’s at 5:30 in the morning. I’ll eat a steak biscuit unless the bologna biscuits are on sale. We’ll sit at the round table and laugh about the good old days when gas was only .89¢ when we started driving. When a stranger walks in we’ll ask if anybody knows him. And if they don’t, we’ll get to know him. We’ll have nicknames for all the little kids because we might not remember their real names. That will endear them to us. After breakfast we will piddle in our gardens, or go horse trade old guitars and guns.

I met a man yesterday who was 98 years old. He drove himself to the Council on Aging. I’m not sure if he came to hear me sing, or if he just came out of habit because old men have routines. But he stayed and talked to me in the atmosphere that lingers after the songs are over but everyone remains quiet, intently listening. He was still sharp in his mind. That’s the kind of old man I want to be.

I met another old man that cycled 100 miles when he turned 90. A spry old sinewy man, tough as woodpecker lips-that is the kind of thing that old men say. I hope to be a fit old man. Not the kind that wears shorts so everyone has to look their old nasty bird legs. There are some things in life a man ought not have to look at.

I want to be an old man that can tell a good story. Can’t nobody tell a story like an old man. And I might start carrying around little candies to hand out at church for children in case my eyebrows scare them.

I just lost one of my favorite old men, Bro. Boney. I wasn’t expecting it, and I’m still not over it. He was one the kind of old men that shook everyone’s hand at the church. He did that with purpose. He had a way of making people feel like they belonged there. He’d been coming to Thanksgiving with my family for the past few years. He’d sing snatches of those old hymns and I’d accompany on the guitar in the corner until our wives would calm us down. One year the power went out, so we couldn’t be ignored. Everyone joined in and sang along. It was a good night.

One year he brought a BB Gun to the church while we cooked a bunch of turkey breasts for Thanksgiving. It was something that you would expect an 8 year old boy to do, but there he was, the oldest man present, plinking away at cans. I just thought that was hilarious. I kept this picture as his contact picture on my phone. I always have the hardest time deleting contacts of friends that have died.

The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness. Proverbs 16:31

Old men are a blessing, otherwise God would not have cursed the house of Eli by denying them old men.

Wherefore the Lord God of Israel saith, I said indeed that thy house, and the house of thy father, should walk before me for ever: but now the Lord saith, Be it far from me; for them that honour me I will honour, and they that despise me shall be lightly esteemed. Behold, the days come, that I will cut off thine arm, and the arm of thy father’s house, that there shall not be an old man in thine house. And thou shalt see an enemy in my habitation, in all the wealth which God shall give Israel: and there shall not be an old man in thine house for ever. And the man of thine, whom I shall not cut off from mine altar, shall be to consume thine eyes, and to grieve thine heart: and all the increase of thine house shall die in the flower of their age. I Samuel 2:30-33

I want to be the kind of old man that young men want to get next to in the prayer room before church. The kind of old man that makes children laugh. That gives good gifts. That speaks the truth in love. That cares. That loves the same woman for decades and raises godly children.

I guess the best way to be the kind of old man you want to be is to be the kind of young man you ought to be.

Some Thoughts on Truth

Resisting the truth is what keeps many conflicts alive.

While I was working my way through college I noticed a phenomenon that happened with alarming frequency. Things that I had been taught in high school as fact were now being challenged and subjected to heavy source criticism.

Post-truth: relating to or denoting circumstances in which objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief.

It was the Oxford Dictionaries word of the year in 2016.

“Never have human societies known so much…but agreed so little about what they collectively know.”
Dan Kahan, psychology and law professor

It is safe to say that we live in a post-truth society. What does this mean for the Church? As Christians we are people who are very concerned with truth and how we view truth is a matter of grave importance. This is in no way an exhaustive work, but a mere peering into mirrored surface of the profound pool of truth.

Truth can be known.

Jesus said in John 8:31 “…And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

You cannot know a lie. Neither do lies bring freedom. You can only believe a lie.

But truth is knowable. It is stable foundation that can built upon. When everything is falling apart in your life you can cling to something that you know is true.

You can know this today: There is a God who loves you.

Truth must be purchased.

While there is some truth that can be immediately transmitted into our knowledge, truth must be purchased; sought out. You have to get it for yourself, not just because some body told you.

Buy the truth, and sell it not; also wisdom, and instruction, and understanding. Proverbs 23:23

In order to be purchased, truth must be valued. You will not purchase something that you do not think is valuable. Lies can also be purchased. What people value determines the market. Truth is precious. It is rare. Lies have no value. Unfortunately, many unsuspecting-or rather undiscerning-people have been sold so many lies at immense costs.

What you value matters to God. The highest level of value is love. If you do not love truth, God will hide it from you.

II Thessalonians 2:8-12 And then shall that Wicked be revealed, whom the Lord shall consume with the spirit of his mouth, and shall destroy with the brightness of his coming: Even him, whose coming is after the working of Satan with all power and signs and lying wonders, And with all deceivableness of unrighteousness in them that perish; because they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved. And for this cause God shall send them strong delusion, that they should believe a lie: That they all might be damned who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness.

Truth Demands a Response.

Response to truth is reflected in behavior. When truth is resisted corrupt behavior is manifested.

II Timothy 3:1 This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God; Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away. For of this sort are they which creep into houses, and lead captive silly women laden with sins, led away with divers lusts, Ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth. Now as Jannes and Jambres withstood Moses, so do these also resist the truth: men of corrupt minds, reprobate concerning the faith.

Truth will always be resisted, and as time draws near to the end, it will be resisted more. People will always try to hide the truth, and it will be reflected in their fruit.

Truth is Liberating.

John 8:31 “…And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

With truth comes a freedom that nothing else can bring. Hiding the truth breeds fear. There is nothing to fear when you can tell the truth.

If you tell the truth, you won’t have to worry about someone else telling it.

How To Write About Grief

I have been working on this draft for almost a year. The fact is, I don’t want to write about grief. I would rather write something that will make you laugh. Laughter, as the scripture says, does good like a medicine. But I feel compelled to write about grief. And reluctance to write about it won’t make it go away anymore than ignoring makes actual grief go away. It is natural to want to avoid anything to do with grief. This is a truth: We cannot avoid the events in life that will bring us grief. Dealing with grief is part of living.

Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Matthew 5:4

Do you remember when you were a little kid and lost your parents at the grocery store because you were not paying attention? Losing your parents as an adult feels the same way except you are little embarrassed about calling out for them. That crying out is grief. I understand that everyone grieves differently. What has helped me has been writing my feelings. Maybe that can help you grieve too.

Stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.

When an event happens that triggers grief it is natural to feel these emotions, but that doesn’t change the fact that we can often feel embarrassed because we are experiencing them. After all, aren’t we adults who have everything together? Being shocked is an uncomfortable feeling. Especially for us who enjoy stability, quiet, and don’t like change. Denial can make us begin to question things we know are true. Being angry can also be humiliating because we feel like we have lost our self composure. It is where we say things like This is not fair! This is wrong! and we are further frustrated because we know what we are saying is true, but there is nothing we can do about it. Bargaining when you are unstable will usually get you a bad deal. You’ll end to doing something rash or in haste. Depression is a life sucking monster that strangles us to inaction. I’m not a licensed counselor, but I believe that one of the reasons that people end up going to counseling for grief is because they never complete the process but get hung up in one of the stages. Whenever that happens, no matter the stage, bitterness can develop.

Follow peace with all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord: Looking diligently lest any man fail of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you, and thereby many be defiled; Lest there be any fornicator, or profane person, as Esau, who for one morsel of meat sold his birthright. Hebrews 12:14-16

Bitterness is not merely an emotion, it is a parasitic root that gets in your spirit. The things that grow out of this root can’t be dealt with on the surface. Dealing with the surface is like cutting a stubborn hedge down to the ground only to realize that you simply pruned it and now it is destined to grow back even more unruly. Bitterness is a deeply inward issue that not only troubles you, but defiles many around you.

In the case of my Dad I believe I began the grief process as soon as he received the cancer diagnosis. I was shocked and tried to deny it: Cancer was something we heard about other people getting. I was scared to death of cancer as a child. I didn’t know exactly what it was and that made it even scarier. Shock and fear are not the same. I was not afraid when I heard the news, I was paralyzed with shock. I think I walked around numb for a few days.

I don’t remember being angry, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t. And probably a big part of that is I believe in the power of prayer. I should say that although this article is about how writing about your feelings can help you through grief, it is my ardent conviction that prayer works far better. Prayer is where I did all my bargaining.

I do remember the depression stage. I didn’t want to do anything. I knew there was nothing I could do, yet I felt guilty for not doing anything and not being able to do anything. Whenever I experience depression, I eat. I think I gained 20 or 30 pounds following my Dad’s death.

I reached the acceptance stage one night before he died and while he was still coherent. That’s when I sat down and wrote this article in acceptance of his imminent death. Portrait of a Southern Gentleman, or Things I Learned From My Dad. It is a great comfort to know that he was able to read it. And he was able to brag on me a little bit, which is a source of laughter for me. I can tell you now that when I wrote that article I poured all of my emotions into those words. I cried the whole time. There was something special that happened when I was able to share those words with everyone. To know that someone else was able to experience my grief somehow made the burden lighter.

I will never forget the feeling of release when my Dad finally passed. It was as if I had been walking around carrying a couple of cross ties and somehow they just floated away.

From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher that I. Psalm 61:2

“You need someone to walk with you through the valley of the shadow of death. And when your heart is overwhelmed you will need someone to lead you to the rock, because you can’t find the way yourself.”

I did the same thing when my Mom died but she didn’t get a chance to read it, and knowing this I think allowed me to achieve a greater degree of acceptance.

Since then, I have made writing a part of my grief process. Which seems like an odd thing to say. I never thought about death as a child, but it is a steady growing part of my life now that I look more and more like Alfred and less and less like Bruce Wayne. Writing has helped me grieve the loss kids that were in my youth group-Oh Brandon!, family-Funeral Processions , Dan Theo Wells 1935-2021 , and dear friends- J.L. Parker. Not to mention countless things I have written in my journal.

So how do you write about grief? I think it is important to establish that putting your feelings and thoughts into written words while you are grieving is one of the most honest and genuine expressions of yourself. There should be no pressure to write to impress someone. This is you and your feelings. Putting those thoughts onto paper is a conscious going out of yourself. You have captured and placed in the visible an idea that has been floating around in the invisible. You have conquered that thought, and it can never escape. No one is grading you on content, grammar, or proper punctuation. And you do not have to share it with anyone. No one may ever see it. But it may help to allow a friend to help bear your burden. I know it does for me.

I still miss my parents every day. And I probably always will. I feel strong emotions every once in a while, but never denial, anger, or bargaining, only acceptance, peace, and most often sadness. If it gets bad I’ll go back and read what I wrote when it was still fresh and that helps.

I wish I could’ve talked to my Dad this week, because I am in a new process of grieving. But I already feel better having written this.

Church Clothes: An Essay on Discomfort

Do you remember when you were a little kid and your momma would make you wear really uncomfortable clothes to church?

I’m supposed to be packing my church clothes for a Youth Conference that I am attending later this week, but I am procrastinating. This is what I do when I procrastinate: write essays. This essay is about church clothes. Having been going to church for 37 years-and 9 months before that-I have a long and conflicting relationship with church clothes. I was raised-and firmly believe- that you ought to dress your best when going up to the House of The Lord. Whether that is a pair of cowboy boots and your cleanest blue jeans, or a business suit and tie. This is the rub: I really enjoy looking nice in a suit and whatnot, but I also really enjoy being comfortable. And unless you are just the picture of health with a trim figure like a Greek statue, or have you enough money to pay someone to make you a suit of clothes that fit your exact body proportions, there is a strong chance that your suit is just going to be plain uncomfortable.

I’m not convinced that comfort should be the first priority when dressing for church.

Do you remember when you were a little kid and your momma would make you wear really uncomfortable clothes to church? I remember one Easter having to wear a button up shirt and these teal dress pants. I hated them. I looked like I stepped off of page 37 of a JC Penney catalog from 1992. Not only was I required to endure these clothes all through church, but I wasn’t allowed to change until after the egg hunt at Uncle Dave’s. I still think that is how a lot of people feel about dressing for church.

Most of the time, I do not really pay attention to what other people wear. And from a scientific study I did in college on this topic where I wore the same suit and tie for a solid week to see if anyone would say anything, I don’t think most people pay attention either. But it is hard to not notice when someone feels uncomfortable in their clothes. Especially a suit. I used to look out my window at work down at the courthouse steps and watch young men walk unsure of themselves in an ill-fitting suit to a matter of grave concern. You see uncomfortable people at funerals and weddings, their awkward conversations informed by clothes that they don’t really understand how to behave in.

There is a way to wear a suit like a lawyer or like you have a court date.

Here is a people watching experiment for you to try on a Sunday afternoon: go out to eat at the most crowded restaurant you can find right after church. Better yet, go to a buffet. Try to guess which people went to church and which people just decided to go get some Chinese food. It should be easy to tell by what they are wearing. I made a Bingo card for you to fill out.

Suit & T-Shirt	Tucked in Polo	Elderly couple with matching died hair	Gold-buttoned blazer	Hebrew letters on an article of clothing
Penny Loafers	Suit & Tie	Paisley	Sun dress	Church Logo T-Shirt
Cowboy boots	Braided belt	Child in a sailor suit	Seersucker	“Praise the Lord!” Greeting
Bow Tie	Wingtip shoes	“Production Team” T-Shirt	Suspenders	Pleated Khakis
High Heels	Western Shirt	Combover	Church Logo Hat	Square toed dress shoes

Uncomfortable: that is how dressing for church felt until I started paying attention to girls around about Middle School. It was then that I quit depending on Mom to tie my tie and started wanting to pick out my own suits and dress shoes. I think everyone goes through an identity crisis sometime during Middle School. Being interested in dressing yourself, while not knowing how to dress. The real conflict can be articulated thus: I don’t know what I want to wear, but I know it isn’t what Mom has been choosing. It takes a while to realize that your Mom had pretty good taste. Aside from maybe the teal Easter pants.

I got these hickory stripe tuxedo pants from Zach. I don’t know if I ever got cooler than that.

I’m less worried about my clothes and more interested in that guitar that I might’ve should’ve kept. Alas, it didn’t sound near as good as it looked. I suppose there is a lesson to be drawn from that.

Fashion is so fickle. When I was a teenager I probably spent far too much money on dress clothes. Trying to be fashionable, or cool. Some of those clothes are cool again, but probably won’t be for long. I will see teenagers this week at PEAK wearing stuff similar to what I wore 25 years ago.

My sartorial ideals have always been too lofty for my meager salary.

It took me a long-a very long-time to figure out exactly what kind of church clothes (or any clothes for that matter) that I wanted to wear. But Today, I feel that I am closest to my real essence when I am wearing a suit and tie. Ultimately, I think I accidentally took less cues from my peers and current fashion trends and more from history while establishing my wardrobe standards. And it happened by seeing old photographs not necessarily related to fashion from say 1962 or 1937 of a men in suits and realizing I would wear that today. When you take this classic approach, you are making a statement: I’m going to wear this and be confident and comfortable no matter what is trendy. This means that you may or may not be in style as the years pass. But what you will be, is established. And possible timeless. And we need more established people.

Well, I have to go pack.

Happy Mother’s Day

Motherhood is a marvelous institution and those who matriculate there are the wonder of humanity. The school of motherhood offers no easy courses. It is a lifelong commitment to learning, and to the giving of one’s self completely. Girls start training to be mothers as soon as they can hold a baby doll.

Motherhood is the highest calling of the gentle sex. I say this knowing full well that many people will virulently disagree with me. That’s fine: those people do not really understand just how important the roll of a mother is. I challenge the thinking that the giving of life is nothing more than an inconvenient limitation to women. I can’t think of more honorable work. Work that has eternal significance.

When you are a kid you don’t really think about your mother’s life before she had you. The moment you met her she would never be the same. You only ever knew her as a mother. Because of this, you have a special intimacy with her not afforded by anyone else. You don’t have to do anything to win her confidence. She was someone you could trust immediately. When you got older you realized how selfish and needy you were as a child, and how selfless and caring she was: your alma mater.

I am at the age that I am beginning to understand what the phrase young mother means. It is really the same miracle of motherhood just from an adult’s perspective and not a child’s. These are the mothers who are barely more than girls themselves, still in the flower of youth, whose children do not realize how young their mothers actually are. You see these young mothers trying to round up their children at church, or throwing a birthday party at the park, fussing over the details like cupcakes and snacks. So much life is happening at a child’s birthday party. I’m not sure birthday parties would happen without mothers. So much youth, health, and vibrancy. You see them dragging the whole family out to take family pictures even though everyone knows that the baby won’t look at the camera and the dad is going to complain about wearing a suit in the yard. It is the mothers who know that one day in 15 years everyone will be so grateful for these frozen moments when everything was just perfect. Mother’s have foresight like that.

I think of how much love a mother has for someone they hardly know, although they know them more than anyone else. Even if a child is as ugly as homemade soap, and mean as a striped lizard, a mother will love it. It is a good thing too, because we all need love. And today we celebrate that love.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Broken

It may not work, but I am going to do my best to fix it.

“This guitar is broken!” I said in exasperation to the young man I was helping move across town.

“You can have it.” He said, looking nonchalantly at the tired old instrument with a large crack in the heel of the neck. I laid it in the back of my truck like a wounded soldier amongst the mirrors and pictures wrapped in moving blankets. This guitar had been neglected if not abused. I winced as I thought back to things that I had not cared for properly as a child.

I took the guitar home and surgically removed the dirty strings and cleaned it thoroughly. Under the light of my work bench I could see that the crack wasn’t all the way through, but still substantial enough to make the guitar unplayable. I felt like the doctor when they say things like, It may not work, but I am going to do my best to fix it.

I inserted wood glue into the crack with a needle and syringe and clamped the body and neck down to the work bench to hold tension on the crack. This will only hurt for a little bit. Then I turned out the lights and didn’t look at it for three days. When I finally came back to it I could still see a black line where I probably didn’t clean the crack sufficiently, but the joint felt solid. Now I just needed some strings. Before I took the time to take a trip to the Guitar Dungeon, I happened to be at a friend’s house as he was changing his guitar strings. I noticed that he had an interesting string removal ritual. I usually clip my old strings-which have been played to death, black with grime and riddled with divots and dents- with a pair of wire cutters, and then to avoid a finger injury from the sharp string end under tension, I unwrap the bit still attached to the tuning post with a pair of pliers. He was taking his time and unwinding the string gently from the tuning post, so the entire string was still intact. Then he carefully placed each string in a neat little line, as if he too could still feel the life pulsing in those sparkly bits of metal, just waiting to be touched so they could burst forth singing. It works out nicely because the strings could be reused if you break one of the new ones. He did poke his finger with a sharp string end and there was a bit of bleeding. As he took the last string off he tied the whole bundle in a single knot. That’s when I asked him if I could have them. And he obliged. I have a hard time throwing some things away. Or seeing things thrown away. And those strings had been watching me like a puppy at the pound.

The next day I put the used strings on the old broken guitar and gave each another chance at life. I decided to leave the guitar tuned down a whole step, because I wasn’t sure if it could handle the tension of standard tuning. I held my breath as I got the last string tuned, then I cautiously inspected the crack. It was still solid. I played an F chord-not the first choice of most guitar players. And not the easiest chord to play in standard tuning. But we weren’t in standard tuning, and the F chord seemed so natural now and it rang out beautifully, deep and rich.

I have wondered what to do with this instrument brought back from the gates of death. I can’t in good conscience sell it. Because it was a gift, and also because I feel like I need to stay close to it in case in needs further repair. And maybe no one would want to pay for a broken instrument. This instrument has already served its time in the heavy hands of a careless owner. It now needs the gentle touch of a seasoned musician. Someone who has lived enough to know what pain feels like. I feel like I want to keep this resurrected instrument where I can see it every day and be reminded of the many second chances that I have been given. I want to be able to pick it up and make sweet music with something that came so near being cast off.

A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench: he shall bring forth judgment unto truth. Isaiah 42:3

Rich People Things

Rich people sometimes have the dog on the Christmas Card. That’s another one of the things that they have in common with rednecks.

What would you do if you were rich? I mean so rich that you could eat slow food anytime you wanted. If I were rich and famous I’d only drink ice cold Topo-Chico in glass bottles. I’d wear a brand new pair of socks to church every service. Rich people can do things like that. I’d probably get a gold tooth too. Not right in the front, but off to the side where you could still see it but only when I smiled. That’s so I could stay modest. I would smile a lot though. And have a pair of crocodile skin cowboy boots. I’d drive a big old Cadillac with a pair of longhorns on the front.

I sometimes struggle to know if people are rich or not. Not that it is really any of my business, but I wonder just the same. I often get rich people and rednecks confused. For instance rich people and rednecks both have lots of cars. But rich people will have a garage, and the rednecks just park their cars all over the yard. And the rich people cars all run.

I met some rich people that had a swimming pool in the ground with a fence and everything. That’s how I knew in my eight year old mind that they were rich. But rednecks sometimes have swimming pools too, but its usually in the front yard. Or in the backyard surrounded by all the cars with busted windows and engines that don’t start.

Rich people sometimes have the dog on the Christmas Card. That’s another one of the many things that they have in common with rednecks. The dog might have a different name though, like Beaumont, or Charlemagne. That’s a rich people dog name. Sassy is a redneck dog name. Also, rich people sometimes take their dog to the vet for no reason.

“The clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.”
Mark Twain

Rich people and rednecks both like to go to the beach. When they don’t have a lot of clothes on its hard to tell them apart. I am neither rich nor a redneck so I don’t go to the beach that often. Which means I don’t have any tips for telling them apart at the beach. Wesley said that Rich people “Have a big ole tent, or something, and nice chairs. And a condo. At the beach.” He’s been to the beach a lot more than I have. I didn’t ask him about rednecks at the beach.

Some other ways to spot rich people is to go to the local airport. Not the big commercial airport at the closest big city, but the little rinky-dink municipal airport. The people who own airplanes are rich. Rednecks don’t typically have airplanes. I think I’d have me an airplane if I was rich. I’d paint teeth and eyeballs on the nose like they did back in WWII. I’d get a leather jacket and a big long white scarf for flying.

All the happiness in the world can’t buy you money.”

I would like to be rich, but I don’t really want to quit shopping at thrift stores. So I don’t really want to be filthy rich, just regular rich. If I came into money real sudden like, I think I would keep shopping at thrift stores so I could keep my cover since it is sometimes hard to tell rich people from rednecks anyway. Even if I was rich, people would see me at the thrift store and think, “He ain’t rich. He’s just another redneck.” It would also help me practice modesty. I wouldn’t smile when I went in there.

When I recall my biggest life decisions, money has not been the principle influence. For instance, having children is not necessarily a wise financial decision. But you don’t really worry about money when you decide to have a child. There is a stronger force than money at play. Moving without a job is not a wise financial decision. But money doesn’t get to make all of the decisions for me. This is probably why I am not a rich man. Money is not the only currency in life. I just read the book Creative Confidence by Tom and David Kelley and I really liked an illustration that the authors often use when making decisions. A see-saw, or balance, with a heart on one side and a dollar sign on the other. To paraphrase the author, the money is almost always easier to measure, the heart-the unquantifiable values, relationships, sense of calling, principles, and intuition- takes a little more time. The message is clear, money is not the only thing that should be considered when making decisions.

This blog for example; the motivation to write does not come from money. Or extrinsic motivation as I learned in college. There is another, stronger source of intrinsic motivation that compels me to write. It is the desire to connect on an unseen level with a reader. The urge to communicate an idea that will provoke deep personal insight in hopes that they can see themselves more clearly. There is the need of going out of one’s self that motivates me to write. This is not to say that I couldn’t be motivated by money to write. I have written on commission and gratefully cashed the check. But if I am honest with myself, I have never felt that any of my best efforts have come from being given an assignment. I have felt this way since a child in art class. I suppose that all creative people wrestle with the tension between creating what they want and getting paid to create what someone else wants. There is also the question of does anyone else want what I want to create? That can only be answered after the thing is created.

On my wedding day my father-in-law gave me some of the best advice I ever received about money. “Don’t ever fight about money.” At the time it was almost like saying, “Don’t fight about nothing.” This is a principle that my wife and I still share in our personal finances.

Money has always been a chore to me. I am getting better at doing chores the older I get. I have some friends that look at money differently than I do. And I am trying to learn from them. They can’t help but make money. Its fun to them. It is not a chore at all, but something that just comes natural. At the same time, they seemed to not be controlled by it. I have observed other people, extremely wealthy people-filthy rich people-be destitute when it comes to personal relationships. Billionaires who are vicious about money yet who are in poverty when it come to love. Cold blooded killers to quote a friend who has met more of them than me. When I take a closer look at their lives, it is pretty clear that these people do not have the same values as me.

Faith, and not money, is the currency of God’s economy.

II Timothy 6:6 But godliness with contentment is great gain. 7 For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. 8 And having food and raiment let us be therewith content. 9 But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition.

But they that will be rich. I am reminded of Rudyard Kipling’s The Man Who Would Be King. I won’t spoil it for you, but if you have read it then you know what I’m talking about. I’m also reminded of someone else that said I will be like the most High. What you commit your will to has profound consequences.

I am less concerned with being rich and more focused on doing something in life that matters. Furthermore, I think it is more important to God that what I do with my life matters. Fortunately God delights in blessing his children and this includes, but is not limited to, financial blessings. With this in mind, If I were regular rich I doubt I would drink more Topo-Chico than I do now. I would take care of quite a few church projects though.

The Spirit of Ignorance

Poverty has many roots, but the taproot is ignorance.
Lyndon B. Johnson

Ignorance simply means the lack of knowledge or information. If you pause to reflect on how many books are in your local library, or better yet how much information is on the internet (64+zetabytes) you can begin to see how much there is to know that you don’t know. You may become overwhelmed with how ignorant you are. Before you get caught up feeling bad about this it is important to understand that it takes people a lifetime of study to become masters in a single field. That is why we call a particular branch of knowledge a discipline. A microbiologist may be an expert on cyanobacteria but have virtually no understanding of group theory, the Battle of Tours, or even how an internal combustion engine works. Even the immortal Sherlock Holmes baffled Dr. Watson with his ignorance of heliocentric motion because it was outside of his desired field of study. It is safe to say that we are all ignorant of many things, and that is perfectly acceptable in most cases. You’ll probably be fine if you do not understand game theory, statistics, or the psychoacoustics. But If you do take some time to study these topics I believe that your life will be enriched by this knowledge. That is the wonderful thing about learning, it is the only way to deliver you from ignorance.

Through wisdom is an house builded; and by understanding it is established: And by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and pleasant riches. Proverbs 24:2-4

To reject knowledge or instruction in our ignorant state is a dangerous folly, and to prefer ignorance over understanding is the root of the Spirit of Ignorance. I grew up in a small community where most of the people were working class. I didn’t know many people that had gone to college, I’m sure they were there, but I just didn’t know them. There was an extremely gifted young man a few grades ahead of me that was simultaneously revered and ridiculed by his peers for his remarkable intelligence. On one hand they were proud to know someone who was so smart, on the other hand he was unable to get them to embrace learning for themselves and in that regard they failed to understand him and considered him a freak of nature rather than an a disciplined independent learner. He graduated with high honors and went on to study at a prestigious university and never came back. This is what happens in small communities, all the smart kids end up moving away. Sociologists call this phenomenon Brain Drain and after a few generations it takes a tremendous toll on rural areas. What is left is a perfect breeding ground for the Spirit of Ignorance.

My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge: because thou hast rejected knowledge, I will also reject thee… Hosea 4:6

Ignorance can be deeply rooted, but often manifests itself as pride. People may feel personally attacked when their ignorance is confronted. No one enjoys being told that they are doing something wrong, or they don’t know what they are talking about, especially if they have been doing it for a long time.

Sometimes when people say they have done something for 20 years what they really mean is they have have repeated one year’s experience 20 times.
Dr. Nathaniel Wilson

This is one of the principle ways that the Spirit of Ignorance can be defeated: unlearning what you thought was true. When someone’s understanding is built upon fallacy, or false preconceptions, these must be confronted before any real learning can happen. I am reminded of Galileo’s conflict with the Catholic church over heliocentric motion. The Catholic church was in predicament because it was confronted with evidence contrary to its doctrine on heavenly bodies. The Catholic church failed in its response to Galileo and rather chose willful ignorance. Furthermore it waited over 400 years to fumble an opportunity at an apology.

“Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other, and scarce in that.”
Poor Richard’s Almanack, Benjamin Franklin

There is a strong possibility that I will face a new concept, or a better way, that may challenge what I have always done or thought. I cannot afford to be hard-headed, or stiff-necked to borrow a Bible term when in these opportunities. Neither can I ignore them. Ignorance contains the root word ignore. To ignore something takes a conscious decision. This is the essence of the Spirit of Ignorance: ignoring truth.

It was important to the Apostle Paul that we would not be ignorant on certain topics or doctrine. I would not have you ignorant… There are a few people in my life that when I hear them talk, teach, or preach I get a strong sense that they too alongside of Paul are at war against the Spirit of Ignorance. And they make me want to join in the fight.

Downhill Uphill

“He went downhill fast.” That’s the kind of thing we say when someone gets terminally ill and doesn’t recover. It is a difficult thing to watch people go downhill. This is one of the reasons that I dread visiting nursing homes.

I was thinking about this phrase this morning as I was going down a steep hill on my bicycle. It really doesn’t take much effort at all to go downhill. Everyone can go fast downhill. You just keep it in the road, if that is the course that is set before you. But it takes real work to go uphill. And to go uphill fast demands an extraordinary amount of energy.

Do you ever get caught in this situation? You are riding shotgun and the driver answers the phone and the phone call plays through the vehicles sound system. You become an involuntary, nonspeaking party to the phone call. It is not that you are intruding by listening, but you would be intruding by talking. You go through something similar in real life watching people make decisions. I guess that is some how wrapped up in minding your own business. Anyway, It is hard for me to not pay attention to a conversation. By the way, do you ever quit listening to someone that is talking to you because you overhear a more interesting conversation off to the side? That is something that I struggle with. I won’t go into the finer details of what the conversation was about but this line stood out to me.

Things are going well but its all uphill.

I guess that means that they are putting in the effort. It sure sounded like it. And that is the point I am trying to make: making progress is really just a gentler way of saying that you are doing a lot of hard work and it is paying off. And you know, work is fun to watch. Especially if someone else is doing it.

I remember when we added an education wing to the church in Winchester. Cecil and I met every morning just down the hill from the church before we started our mowing rounds. I was not the early riser that I am today and Cecil always beat me to work. I’d pull in and start getting the truck and mowers in order before I almost had to drag him away from the construction site. He would be up there talking to the workers, pointing at things, telling them God knows what. Checking on that construction site really made him grin. Old men and little boys can watch bulldozers all day. I think we all like to watch work because it is inspiring.

I catch myself doing it now. Man they didn’t waste any time getting that house built! (Is this how you talk to yourself?) Progress is exciting. My community is patiently waiting for our Chick Fil A to be rebuilt. We are all emotionally invested in the progress of that building. We celebrate at each milestone. They got the sign on the wall!

When you are actually working on the construction site, or really any kind of project it can be difficult to appreciate your progress because you are constantly seeing it. Watching children grow up is a similar phenomenon. You hardly notice it when you see them every day, but the folks that just see them at Thanksgiving are shocked by their growth. If you are working on something that matters, it is good to remind yourself every once that your labor is not in vain.

Galatian 6:9 And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.

Between Books

There is a certain amount of guilt that comes with giving up on a book.

Sarah can always tell when I start reading a new book that is really good because I’ll stay up past 9:30pm. There is nothing quite like a book that really captivates you. You’ll find yourself thinking about the characters and plot even when you’re not reading. When you finally do finish it there is a bit of sadness because it is over. Then you have to hope that the next book your pick up is as good, but you never know. Sometimes you feel obligated to press on through an uninteresting book. You try to press on, but when a book is boring there is no motivation to read, and instead of staying up to read you close the book and go to sleep. There is a certain amount of guilt that comes with giving up on a book. When you finally make the decision to ditch a bad book you run the risk of going through this whole process again. This is what I call being stuck between books.

I guess now is as good of a time as any to confess that I am a bibliophile. I don’t just love to read, I love books. A book case is the first thing you see when you walk into my home. I love the smell of a century old book. I love the feel and color of old paper with words that were mechanically printed with ink and typeset. My parents bought books not only to read, but to display.

When a book is really good it becomes a part of our family language: an integral part of how we express ourselves.

Being between books demands a decision. We can either reach back for old books that we’ve already read (and there are some books that should be re-read) or we reach forward for the unknown of a new, hoping that we will chance upon a story that will become a part of us. Or we can stop reading.

In a larger sense, we can compare our lives to a series of books. There is romance, love, horror, tragedy, adventure, mystery. There is one exception though, you can’t really re-live any of these books. You cannot start over, but you can start new. And there is still a possibility of getting caught between books.

In life it is sometimes hard to tell when one book ends and another begins, which can make for dangerous transition traps. Thankfully, early on these lines are drawn more clearly for us. We go from Kindergarten to first grade and so on; each school year a new volume in the library of life. Once we graduate we lose the preset beginnings and endings that school provided for us yearly from age five until whenever we stopped our schooling. Because of this, we can all too easily forget the feeling of beginning anew once we become adults, and many people feel the pressure to somehow to make forty year run until retirement with no new fresh starts. In short, it is quite difficult for people to affect a new positive change in their lives-or even recognize a when a change is necessary- without help from an outside force.

As a result people get caught between books in life. Or worse, they continue re-reading a bad book hoping in vain to finish with a different ending, or without a concept of ever finishing. To use Bible language, these people are drifting aimlessly through life “having no hope.”

The basic message of Christianity is repentance. Or making a complete new start with the understanding that the routine that I was in before is no longer an option. It takes a lot of guts to make a new start like that. Jesus Christ said it best:

The law and the prophets were until John: since that time the kingdom of God is preached and every man presseth into it.

Luke 16:16

John came preaching “Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is at hand.” What an offensive word: Repent. It is still as offensive today as it was then. No one wants to hear that they are doing anything-much less that they are living and thinking-wrong. But the message of Christianity has not changed since the birthday of the church in the book of Acts, and the preaching of the repentance still pricks people in their hearts, or cuts them to their hearts. This kind of preaching demands a decision.

There are many people who see what this kind of change requires and are unwilling to pay that kind of price, and they go away sorrowfully like the rich young ruler.

In fact a lot of “churches” have long ago quit preaching any semblance of conversion, because they also have quit preaching repentance in an effort to be less offensive. These assemblies, or congregations-I’ll not call them churches-offer no hope to people who desperately need a new start.

Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new. I Corinthians 5:17

So, what have you been reading?