At 8:02 I pull out my cellphone and check the time. Haven't worn a watch in years, never see a need to. If I want the time I flip out the phone, if I want to know what day it is, I flip out the phone. If I want to know the weather, where I'm going, what's on my schedule tomorrow, or simply what 48 times 6 equals, I flip out the phone. What an amazing and ever-developing tool old Mr. Bell launched into orbit with a very brief conversation with his trusted friend - the same conversation we text thousands of times per day.
It was 8:03 and already sweat was pouring from beneath the layers of my flabby body. I've spent the last hour and a half renting a boat, shopping for sun screen and sodas. Loading up all of our rods and tackle, life jackets, ice-filled coolers, bags of snacks, and even grabbed a couple of ham and biscuits for Dale and I to take to the water. This wasn't just any ol' fishing trip, this was the one I've longed for for nearly 12 years. The same one I used to make a couple times per month in what now seems to have been another lifetime. This is a fishing trip I love, and admittedly lived for in my past.
8:04 The peacefulness on Pickwick Lake captures my attention as it is only matched in my memories by the thoughts of the many, many times I've caught a boat-full of white bass, bluegill, or large-mouth bass. This lake is where I would take family and friends to show off, and quite frankly showing off is what I did best back then. I know this massive body of water as well as any non-local, and I know I can catch a limit of fish in an efficient-like fashion given half the chance. Over the past 27 years I've seen quite a few jaws drop from friends that never realized fishing could be this much fun. Hooking into one with nearly every cast for hours on end, sure beats the long and fruitless days of bank fishing they were accustomed to. I loved the joy that those trips brought my friends and family, and I loved feeling like it was me that caused it to happen. Something I know today just wasn't true at all.
8:06 Dale gets settled in as I start slowly out to channel from the no-wake cove. To be back at Pickwick was for me a return from the wilderness. For not long after my last trip in 1998 life got very difficult and at my lowest points over the past decade I've dreamed of days on the lake, days where I felt like someone a thousands times richer than I was. On days when I didn't have a penny to my name, or food to eat I thought of the good days, the days on Pickwick. Rich with joy, rich with contentment, rich with peace, a richness I had only found here on this lake. When I fished this wonderful body of water I was somebody - I've wanted to be somebody again for many a year. A fishing trip to Pickwick at one time was so much more to me than just a fishing trip, it was a confirmation that I was somebody. During the tough times this is where I focused - getting back to Pickwick.
8:07 I throw Dale's wrapped ham and biscuit to the bow of the boat, and apologize for it hitting the floor. She couldn't care less - she's a country girl, things like that don't bother her a bit. We eat, we look around, we smile. We got out early this day so the sun wouldn't melt the life from our bodies. I figured worst case scenario, I could take Dale back in after a few hours and then fish a little longer by myself. It was going to be another hot one, that's for sure, but who cares - I've waited for this return trip for almost 12 years, and now I'm finally back, sunshine or not.
8:09 I begin talking almost ceaselessly about this or that, (which Dale will tell you I do way too often.) I explained how this house and that subdivision wasn't on that ridge overlooking the lake the last time I was here. I noticed that things have changed a lot along the shoreline, but the thrill of being on Pickwick was exactly as I remember. The whole time I'm yakking, I'm starting to smile a little bit more on the inside.
8:12 I talk about fishing trips gone by, as I point toward the many hotspots I've fished from time to time. Then I rearrange our tackle so I can stretch out my legs a bit more in the small 15ft. Jon Boat with it's 9.9hp stern driven motor. This modest, rented vessel is a far cry from the beautiful bass boats and power-packed motors of years gone by, but that really doesn't matter much – it's Pickwick, and my heart is at home.
8:16 I continue to talk, and Dale continues to listen patiently. She knows I'm as excited as a small kid, and she loves me for this, I think. Then suddenly I stop talking to take in the sounds of silence and the taste of fresh air filled with moisture coming from the surface of God's own creation. Nothing better have I experienced from nature. I've guided many a boat across these waters and I've never once been less than totally amazed by it's beauty and power. The surface of the lake was as calm as I've ever seen it as we were cruising forward enjoying the scenery. This was it, this is what I've missed, this is what I've needed! Outside of a relationship with God, and Dale, I tell myself this is really all I need to survive.
8:18 Just me and my girl slowly crossing these sacred waters, heading to the place I know with little doubt to be a bonanza of a fishing spot this time of year. Mayflies seem to always begin hatching on the west bank near the triangle area of the lake where the borders of Mississippi, Tennessee, and Alabama form. Bluegills await beneath the surface for the hatching to begin as they love to feed on the larva, and birth-waste which falls from above. I have this knowledge, I have that experience, so I head toward the exact spot I last fished almost 12 years earlier as things couldn't be any better than this I thought!
8:19 We near the big turn in the lake where the waters come up out of the south, I'm checking for evidence of mayflies hatching from the overhanging trees - none in view yet, but the excitement grows. Out of the corner of my eye I spot a wake growing from the smooth surface nearby and I turn the boat a bit to the right to avert the bluntness of its roll. Then another even bigger wake heads our way and as I'm trying to judge the size of it I look quickly around, yet see no other boats in the area. We took the hit from the second one and it almost toppled us to one side. Before I could correct the direction of the boat the third wake hit, and it hit hard. All I remember is seeing Dale lose the grip on her seat and raise straight up, then she came crashing down across the bridge of the boat missing her chair, and finally landing bottom down in the floor of the boat. Three wakes and that was it. Three was certainly enough!
8:20 She cries out; her back is broken. She cries out in agony and pain. She lies crumbled to the floor in a heap as I flip open my phone out and see it's 8:20, then I realize we've only been out for eighteen ticks of the big hand. I call 911 and they transfer me to the EMT Dispatcher. I relay the details as I'm now heading back toward the marina. She's alert but isn't moving. I can't go check on her because I've got to get the boat to the awaiting ambulance at the dock, but I want to so badly, she's my sweetheart and now she's hurt.
Eighteen minutes into a day I had longed for - forever, and it all comes crashing down as the last of the three wakes passed beneath our little boat. The trip back to dock seemed to take much longer than eighteen minutes. I wasn't in a panic, but I wanted desperately to get my sweetie some help. I'll not take the time to recap all the thoughts that raced across my mind during the return trip, but there were so many emotions in such a short period of time it was truly overwhelming.
We pulled into the cove to see the EMTs already in position. They got her stabilized, then lifted onto a stretcher. We headed toward the Medical Center in Corinth, Mississippi to hear the results from the Cat Scan which only confirmed what Dale knew immediately, a broken back.
It was only eighteen minutes but I've already thought of a thousand better ways to have spent them. Ways in which the outcome insures Dale was safe. Eighteen minutes can and so often does make a big difference in our lives. Think about all the significant events of your life, and try and recall the eighteen minutes leading up to those events. What if, becomes the ruling thought in such an exercise, but what if's have no power here in the real world.
Though I knew the waters of Pickwick Lake like the back of my hand. Though I've driven and guided boats in all types of weather and water situations across it. Though everything seemed so perfect for seventeen ticks of the big hand, day to day living as we knew it was put back into perspective last Saturday morning on Pickwick Lake when the eighteenth minute arrived. I would give up the notion of ever returning to the waters I dearly love if only Dale had not been injured this morning. For as much as I long for Pickwick's offerings, I desire her happiness and health most of all.
Important lessons about life can be learned in a matter of eighteen ticks of the big hand. Actually lives can change drastically during that time-frame and so often does. People are killed, children die, lives are lost in a matter of minutes, if not seconds. A broken back can be fixed according to doctors, yet lost lives can't be replaced, and they most certainly can't be relived.
What we have today, we should appreciate even more so than what's in the memories of our past. What we are we should respect, and not long to be something more. Our bodies are relatively fragile though we abuse them as if not. In a matter of eighteen minutes a person can learn a lot, even someone like me.
So often we long for things like Pickwick Lake fishing trips, yet all too often overlook and discredit the joy we have in our day to day lives. God gives us the gift of life everyday, but rarely do we thank Him as so. We wake, we shower, we put on clean underwear and go about our business as if this day was an expected event and nothing more. He shares the beauty of his own creations right here in our backyard, yet we'll climb into our vehicles and drive for hours in search of a better view. I think when it comes right down to it, God's magnificence shines even more greatly in the simple stuff than in the big and the grandeur. We must ask ourselves more often, where's our focus.
Dale's healing process gives me another opportunity to show her my true love, and this time I hope I do a better job than the last. God's been so good to give each one of us the opportunity to demonstrate with our hands and feet what He's done with His love, and mercy in our spirit. We just gotta do it one tick of the big hand at a time, then let Him take care of the rest.
This I know - true joy, true peace, true value doesn't come from even the best of fishing lakes, a majestic mountain, or the most gorgeous of sunsets – it comes from the warmth which comes only from a close, personal relationship with Christ. Last Saturday within the span of eighteen ticks of the big hand I was reminded of this once again.
One day Dale and I'll return to Pickwick, I suppose. A much bigger boat, lots more attention, much less talking, lots more smiling, and a couple more ham biscuits - at least that's the way I see it, don't know if Dale will go for it or not. But, this I do know, I need God being my Lord, I need his Son being my Savior, and I need his Spirit guiding my life a heck of a lot more than I need a fishing trip on Pickwick Lake. If I have that kind of relationship with Him, if I walk in that amount of light, I'll never have to worry about feeling like I'm somebody, cause I'll indeed be somebody. I'll be His!
In the next eighteen ticks of the big hand.........what will we find to be true? doug
Mike and I were neighbors – good neighbors – good friends. We fished together, bowled together, cooked out together, coached little league teams together. Good neighbors, good friends! He was a great guy and his wife Brenda was pretty cool as well. Mike and I had this connection like brothers and sisters often have. No matter how long in between fishing trips or how many wintery months between cook outs, we always seemed to simply pick back up the conversation we were last having and continue on as if it had minutes not weeks or months. If you have one of those kinds of relationship with someone, you know what I'm talking about. Transitioning through time and distance the friendship never misses a beat. I really miss having Mike as a neighbor, especially thinking back on all the times we shared talking, laughing, living, and catching fish together.
On the flip-side of the too few Mikes of my life has been the many other neighbors of the opposite variety. You know, the kind that rarely speaks. The ones that will never mow one inch over the property line, and expect you to show the same restraint on your end. Neighbors that would be as likely to avoid you in the aisles of the grocery store, as you would them. As hard as this may be to believe, I've actually had a few snotty neighbors to call the Law on me over the years, for playing my music too loud, or making too much noise working on my boat at three in the morning, or for just generally being rude to them. I know, it just doesn't seem possible, does it!
My brother Ed has one of those kinds of neighbors now, and I feel bad that he has to put up with all the hassle that comes with it. No matter how nice you are in return they're determined to make you their enemy. Okay, it probably didn't help that Ed punched him in the nose a few years back, but come on, forgive and forget people. What happens because the forgive and forget rule never gets evoked is you slowly become a recluse in your own home simply trying to avoid them. And as time goes by your daily routine gives in to a lesser way of living simply because of a “bad” neighbor or two. At least that's the way I always saw it. I never once thought the problem could possibly be with me. Enough about lousy neighbors, I'm getting mad just thinking about 'em.
Ronnie and I were room-mates for a while. Though we had been good friends since our high school days, the room-mate arrangement kinda caused a stress fracture in our relationship that had not been there before he moved in. Getting kicked to the curb by his wife after she found him to be sort of a cheat (okay, he was a cheat – kinda like being pregnant I suppose) he said he had nowhere else to go, thus he moved into the second bedroom of my apartment. He was a smoker, I'm not. He was a slob, I'm not, or at least not always. He was a stay out late every night / come in drunk kinda guy, I'm not. Well, maybe once or twice, or sometimes more often, but not every night, not all work-week long. Though we shared the same apartment for awhile we didn't share the same life. He would go his direction, and I would go mine. Usually on Sunday afternoons we would come together in the living room, watch some football, talk about the happening of our week, then start the process all over again. We were still friends when he moved out, but it was most certainly a different level of friendship.
I was sure glad his wife caved, and took him back when she did. I admit I was tiring of him pretty quickly. I never had the desire to have a room-mate ever again. I guess sharing an apartment or house yet nothing else, just seems like such an empty relationship to me, and besides who needs the hassle or smoke-stained ceilings anyway - life's too short, as they say.
And speaking of wives, (okay, that's stretching it a bit simply to make the connection, I know) have I mentioned how great a spouse I have. Okay, I know almost every journal entry I find someway to add a little something about Dale, but hey I have that right. I really love being married to her, and I think she feels the same way about me on my good days!. Though only being married for one year, two months, seven days, and an hour or two she and I seem to be getting closer and closer as we get more and more shared life experiences under our belts. Sure we all know it's easy to walk hand in hand through the rainbows of life, but hanging on to each other when the winds are whipping every direction, now that takes commitment. We're committed – this I know! She and I enjoy so much together - yard work, cooking (okay her cooking and my eating) movies (at least when she picks them out), Braves baseball games, long drives in the country etc, etc. You name it, we enjoy it together. She makes such a wonderful partner, I can't thank God nearly enough for giving us each other, especially after so many failures on both sides. The one thing we like to share more than any other is to go to church together. You see, she works every other weekend, and my work causes me to miss some Sunday services as well, but when we make to the worship services together it feels so complete. It simply feels so good to be in the presence of God with fellow believers praising, worshiping, learning and loving.
To paraphrase what so many others have said about their own personal experiences; If I had to go through all I have been through just to get to Dale, to get to this type of relationship, to get to this level of love - I reckon I'd be willing to do it all over again. For this fruit is so wonderfully sweet coming from a vineyard that has seen so much blood, sweat, and certainly its share of tears during the many barren seasons of years gone by. She / us is so worth every penny of the price I've paid to get here. Did I mention God has been so very, very good to me, though I deserve it not. I love my spouse, and she loves me. It may sound silly but I cry when I write about her just like I often cry at church. I cry when I read, hear, or experience a LOVE story – Dale, God, and me certainly is that. Just can't help it, I cry. Sappy, I know!
This morning, as I was thinking about neighbors, room-mates, and spouses (go figure) I thought how any one of these three could closely resemble the relationship status so many of us have with God. You either see folks that have a neighbor (the good or bad kind) type of connection, or they have an at-arms-distance room-mate relationship, or they have a spousal sort of thing going on between them and God. Disagree? Think about your friends and family and see (in your own mind) which of these descriptions best represents the relationship level they portray with the God-being in their lives. No, I'm not asking anyone to be judgmental, (that's my job -LOL) I'm just suggesting, let's take a minute and see which of these lights seem to be shining from the cracks in their shields? If you're like me, you'll find it much easier to see evidence of one of these three levels of relationships between God and our friends or family members than it is when looking in the mirror. That's an issue we need to work on, you know?
Though I proudly proclaim (as many of you do), a loving spousal type of relationship with God, the behind the scenes view may look much the contrary to others. At times it may look as if me and the Big Guy are more like room-mates going our separate paths all week long, and then merely coming together for a brief encounter on Sunday mornings. Or maybe at times we appear to be best of neighbors fishing, cooking out, etc - yet sleeping, eating breakfast, showering, and doing laundry in our separate homes. Then sadly, there are times we look like the spiteful neighbors that show up on those episodes of COPS where there's always that drunk dude without a shirt standing on the front porch of his double-wide, can of Bud in hand, cussing up a storm, cause his ignorant a-- neighbor is playing the Dark Side of the Moon album by Pink Floyd as loud as his busted-out piece of crap speakers will blare.
You ever notice how no matter the city the show is being filmed from, the cops always give the same warning; "If we have to come back out here tonight were taking someone to jail. Now close your door, even though the top screen is missing and leave each other alone." It reminds me of my mom's stern voice from decades ago at our bedroom door, well after bedtime. You boys better get to sleep, cause if I have to come back up here I know some boys that's going to get their butt whipped. Now go to sleep!
Hee,hee,hee came the little voices from beneath the sheets, then one of us would flip a booger at the other, or something really cool like that. Boy, did I get side-tracked, but anyway.....
Yep, that visual from the trailer park just about sums up the relationship we have with God at times - enemies more often than friends, but then the beer wears off, the album plays out, the night moves on and we get up the next morning to the smell of bacon and coffee coming from the other's kitchen so we head over to make our apology, all the while hoping to get invited to stay for breakfast. All is well in the neighborhood once again, at least til nightfall, or beer-thirty whichever comes first.
You see, as much as I like the idea of Dale and I going together to God's house on Sunday mornings, I long to consistently wake up with God and myself sharing a cup of coffee and a doughnut (jelly-filled to be exact) with Dale everyday. I want to have a relationship with God that becomes the example for my relationship with my wife, not the other way around. I want God to teach me what it's like to be a better husband everyday, for I admittedly forget sometimes. I certainly don't want to simply be room-mates with either her or God. I want a full-fledged smoochy, smoochy, kissy, kissy kinda relationship with both. Maybe that's asking too much- but what the heck, it's my heart's desire so how can that be wrong Dr. Phil?
I never want to go back to a life where my relationship with my Maker is defined by a row of Bartlett pear trees planted along the property border, or by the name written with a Sharpie on the side of the two liter of cola in the fridge. I want a relationship with God where we have the same checking account, we enjoy the same types of movies, and where it doesn't matter if our dirty socks and nasty underwear, (okay that's a me thing) get thrown together in the same washer load. I want the level of intimacy with God you don't get from simply being neighbors or room-mates, or even each others spouse. And guess what - His word says that's exactly what He wants with us. He doesn't want us moving into the house next door or the bedroom down the hall – He doesn't just want to marry us. He wants to love up on us, to live with us, to live in us. He wants to love us to the fullest extent in every way and all He wants in return is for us to have the same desire for Him. Sounds simple when it's said like that doesn't it?
We sure get something so simple all screwed up sometimes, don't we. We seem to, (for whatever reason) set up way too many self-imposing rules to follow in our relationship with God. Why? After all isn't that the role Religion takes on? We really shouldn't add to the mess, now should we. Even so, we establish boundaries and personal spaces where God never intended them to be, then we wonder why we fill so empty, and so distant from God at times. I believe we all too often try and make our relationship with God from the same mold as our relationships with others come from. We try and fit God into the same little neatly packed boxes we have our neighbors, room-mates, and spouses in, and He just doesn't fit! So what we end up with is a box that contains less than the full measure of God and somehow we see it as being His fault, His shortcomings, His lacking – rather than a problem of our own makings.
Here's the weekly statement from Captain Obvious; Our relationship with God needs to be the mold in which we form all other relationships - not the other way around!
What a much different life we would have if that were so, don't you agree? No more arguing over which side of the boundary line the fence is on, or who's frozen pepperoni, cardboard tasting, pizza was that in the freezer, or even who's turn it is to drive the pickup to church. It would all be different I suppose. I'm learning more and more each day the true benefits that come from having a REAL relationship with God, as well as learning to recognize the many pitfalls we create for ourselves in relationships. I'm finding it's a very tough lesson to wrap even my big ole, hollowed out, pumpkin size head around, but thankfully the teacher is patient. Patient indeed!
Oh sure, I admit there are times when I miss my old neighbor Mike, and my smokey ol' room-mate Ronnie, but I'm very thankful that I've got God and Dale in my life! I'm also thankful I have you in my life. I appreciate you being willing to hang out with me for the time it took to read this. I'm grateful for you, our relationship – no matter what type it is! As a certain insurance company claims to be, I suggest we also try and be a good neighbor to someone today. doug
Let's play a game of “What ifs.” Ever played it? Sure you have, we all have. What if we won a million dollars? What if we had control over the world for one day? What if....... So let's start our little game with something that popped into mind this morning while sitting in my favorite front porch swing with my favorite girl. What if God were made in our image instead of the other way around?
What if somehow this whole notion of evolution was right on. That old Mr. Darwin hit the nail on the head with his ape like theory. That somehow we grew from a single-cell swamp thingy to become the most complex exhibit of nature's grand and glorious, yet randomly-structured expansion process. What if?
What if, after we pulled ourselves up from the marsh pits and began making things like wheels, fire pits, swords, and banana pudding all of a sudden this great and mighty God appeared on the scene? What if He took one look at us, and said; “You know, I kinda like how this bunch of human-like creatures function, so I'm going to make myself like them.” What if?
What if He said, “I can be a great ruler over this planet by becoming more like them. That way they won't be too intimidated, threatened, or awe-struck by me?” Sure enough, he takes up our roles, our ways, our life styles, our desires, and yes our flawed ways of thinking. What if this really was the way it all came about?
How limited the beauty of a early morning sunrise would be if it were painted with our imagination. How many different colors would there be in a rainbow? How frantic would world events become when the news of our future looked bleak? How much unending resentment and grudge would boil over throughout the world if He, (the one in control of all things) thought, acted, reacted, judged, and ruled over this land just like we would? How would a flower garden look if we conjured it up from our imaginations especially if we'd never seen one before? Would there be hummingbirds, and comets, or how about turnip greens and cats?
Oh sure, he (thinking like us) would probably make child birthing a lot easier, and I'm sure he'd keep that new idea about of a fourth meal intact, but not for Tacos, yet for ice cream and cookies and root beer floats. He'd make replacing a timing belt a thing of the past and wouldn't make us wait all year long for one stinkin' Thursday in the Fall to roll around before eating turkey and dressing and punkin' pie. Zero interest car loans would really be zero interest, and a universal healthcare plan as well as the definition of a “work week” would take on completely new meanings. No more small print, he would simply say it, thus it would be so.
After all that's what WE'RE so good at. We can let it fly from the tips of our tongues as if we we're creating the world as we go. We can easily tell the President how to act and think, and the doctors what's wrong with us. We can settle the Middle East issues over a cup of coffee, so why the heck can't the folks over there simply think like we do? We have all the answers, and thus would He. It would be easy as pie, if he were like us, now wouldn't it. Simple problems, simple solutions would be his new moto.
For those that don't like capitol punishment or the concept of freedom to choose, can you imagine if God were truly made in our image, just how far reaching these social and moral issues would be? He'd be just as likely to take any number of viewpoints into consideration, just like so many of us do. After all we take the scriptures and apply a little common sense to it, update it to modern times, and mix all that with what effect it has on our personal lives, and wa-la there you have, our way of thinking on a subject. Can you imagine even if God thought like we do about something as simple as gossiping? No, I don't mean when we do it, but when others do it to us? You know, when it's the “bad” kind of gossip!
What if he showed our anger and frustration when someone totally disrespected him by having a different opinion about religion, politics, or sexual preference. I reckon there would be a whole lot of folks getting struck down all around us everyday now wouldn't there? He'd have to put on more sanitation workers I guess. At least that's what I'd do!
What if God didn't plan out his day until he got to the office because he stayed up late last night watching the “big game”? What would our Today look like if that level of God was in control of things? What if he actually put you in charge of all the things you've said to yourself; I could do a better job than they're doing? We'd have a whole bunch of Presidents running this country now wouldn't we? We'd have folks with a roll of duct tape and radiator clamps trying to close up a leaking oil line in the Gulf right now if some of us good ole boys in the south were in charge of things.
Aren't you glad God isn't like us? Can you imagine the chaos, the calamity, the roller coaster of a ride we'd be on simply based on the emotions, and feelings and all that other stuff that goes through our minds everyday?
What if - or rather - What a mess!
I run into people all the time that gives me the impression that in their own mind they actually believe they could somehow run the world better than God does. They offer up suggestions as if they had been chiseled into stone and carried down from a mountain top conference. They're quick as a blink to tell anyone in ear shot how they'd run the country, or how they'd end the war, or how they'd solve the world hunger problem. The offer up God's direction at ever turn as if they had a direct phone line to the throne. God told me that, or God gave me this word for you, etc, etc, etc.... Have you ever wondered why God doesn't seem to give THEM “a Word” for their own lives nearly as often as He does for someone else? It seems like they can go on and on with “inspired” answers to the world's problems as if anyone actually asked them to begin with. In my way of reckonin' me thinkest, the world's full of know-it-alls, yet way too empty of do-it-alls.
But, what if God were really like us? What if His answers to crime and mistreatment of others equaled our way of thinking? That would be great wouldn't it! That is, until we mistreated someone, or until we commit a sin. Then what? Would there need to be more than one standard? You betcha! After all he'd be thinking like we think.... How big of a mess this world would truly be in if God were made in our image!
Just for a moment, let's try and imagine what the world would look like if we truly lived out our lives striving to be like Him, to be like His son, to be like His Holy Spirit. What would today be like for us? Where would our priorities be? What matters would capture our focus? Would we continue to ignore those in need? Would we never give a thought to the orphans and widows of our own community as most of us do today? Would we be so caught up in our own little worlds that we would never give a thought to helping out a family member, more less a complete stranger? We may have been made in God's image, but how many of us actually reflect God's image?
Sure we're religious - sure we're righteous - sure we're holy people, set apart just like the Good Book says we are.
We're set apart from the world alright. Set apart by our drawn curtains and finely fitted masks. By the closely guarded entrance ways of our churches, and our dirtless hands. We're separated by the tinted glass and locked doors of our slick looking SUVs as we drive through an unavoidable and unseeded neighborhood. The truth is, we've separated ourselves from the world in a way I don't think His word intended. We love to use “the wisdom God gave us” as the reason why we must steer clear of the influences of the world, but are we really in the image of Christ when we become so guarded that we never interact with the world? The gospels sure seems to be full of stories where he interacted with the diseased, the dirty, the poor, the outcast.
Shouldn't we?
Let me ask you, what do you suppose the Plan of Salvation would look like if God's thoughts were our thoughts? How much grace would be involved with such a humanistic approach? Would there really even be a plan? Would he, (with thoughts like ours) even give someone a second, a third, a seventy-seventh chance? Would he offer up his own son or daughter if he we're really like us, to be the only sacrifice sufficient to wash away our sins?
The sad truth is, we see versions of man's Plan of Salvation all across this land. It's what puts the “R” in religion. “R” way of thinking is; you gotta have faith, but you gotta have lots of works also. We gotta do good to get to go to heaven, to see mom and grand-dad once again. God's good, so he'll simply look the other way when we falter, after all He knows I mean well! God's just like our earthly Father so we better work even harder tomorrow to earn his good grace. God is love, thus we all get to go to heaven regardless what some old preacher says. Boy, don't you agree, if God thought the way we think what a mess we'd be in as a people, as a society, as a planet!
Climbing back down from my soapbox, what if, today unlike yesterday's failed attempt, I strive to be more in His image. What if, I try and see the world through His eyes, try and love others with just a smidgen of His love. Try and give of myself in just a small measure like He gives to me? What if, today unlike most of the days in my rear-view mirror I try and see a tomato plant, a lonely person, a birds nest, a hungry child, and most certainly a lost and dying world as He sees them. What if.....I mean really, What if? Doug
