This wish seems appropriate as we begin the summer of 2020 in America.
From the June 1 page of New Morning Mercies by Paul Tripp.
This wish seems appropriate as we begin the summer of 2020 in America.
From the June 1 page of New Morning Mercies by Paul Tripp.
Posted in Christianity, quote | Tags: New Morning Mercies, Paul Tripp
Lamentations seems like a big, sad word to me. It’s not my favorite book of the Bible. To lament means to mourn, to express one’s deep grief, or just to express regret or disappointment over something considered unsatisfactory, unreasonable, or unfair.
We have a lot to lament these days. Pandemic around the world. Racial unrest (an understatement) in our nation. Economic ruin for businesses small and large. Loss of opportunity for new job seekers. Distanced personal relationships. Absence of hugs from granddaughters.
When will things get better? There is so much uncertainty. Even those who believe things will get better wonder when. The times, they are a-changin. Cue the harmonica.
Bob Dylan wrote the iconic hymn to change in 1964. He warned that everything changes. King Solomon told us there’s a time for everything under the heavens 3,000 years ago. He didn’t say when that time was.
So we’re left to wait and wonder. Or to act. To pack groceries for the hungry. To reach out to old friends. To check on lonely friends. To grow closer to dear friends.
But we still wonder – how long? When will life change back to the way it was – or, more likely, to the way it will be? History is full of examples of people who waited without knowing what or when the end will be.
Some faced life sentences in prison until they were exonerated. Some spent 40 days in the wilderness. Some wandered 40 years through barren lands. Some endured 400 years of oppression. Some waited only four hours for an answer – but it seemed an eternity.
The common denominator for those who made it to the “other side” of the wait: they learned to hold on.
And like a string that is stronger when wound around another string, people together are stronger. Two people can hold on better than one.
Audrey Hepburn summed it up: “The best thing to hold onto in life is each other.”
Thank you, Sherry. I’m glad I can hold onto you.
Posted in best practices, change, character, history, quote | Tags: Audrey Hepburn, Bob Dylan, lament, Solomon, uncertainty
The Bible. Some call it just a book. Some call it a crutch. Its words work for some, not so much for others.
If you live on planet earth right now, you’re living in a pandemic. COVID-19 may barely effect the rich and famous, but will devastate the poor and hungry. Whether you’re a celebrity on YouTube or a parent standing in a food line, here’s something to ask yourself:
How will you begin tomorrow? Will it begin with greed or fear?
If you really want more than you need, I can’t help you much this time. But if you’re afraid, these old words may help:
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his pinions, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness is a shield and buckler. You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday. A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.
That’s some pretty good assurance from the Bible. Psalm 91. Try it. You might like it.
You may need it some morning.
How many of today’s blogs have that title during this COVID-19 pandemic? So much for this being an original post.
Our current plague is not original. It’s just new to all of us right now. There are a few alive today who lived through the flu pandemic 100 years ago. (probably not the bookends they prefer for their lives)
Thucydides wrote of the great plague of Athens in 430 BC. My bible mentions “plague” 54 times. This is nothing new.
The uncertainty we now feel may be much less than that felt long, long ago. But it’s still uncertainty. It is nothing new.
Just because we have more, know more, and expect better results because of advancements in science and medical care does not necessarily mean we have less uncertainty. We may have more.
Uncertainty creates various levels of anxiety, aka fear. Do we have more of that? We certainly have more newscasters and pundits telling us what to fear today. The news is available to us all day, everyday, everywhere. It’s easy to saturate with fear.
Yet fear is not always bad. Bad fear can paralyze action or frustrate rest and recovery. But good fear can warn, protect, teach, motivate, and help us prepare. Some people – not all – are able to choose bad fear or good fear.
According to the bible, fear has been around a while. My bible mentions “fear not” 71 times. As a follower of Jesus, my worldview confirms that fear is something to be reckoned with historically and spiritually. It implies to me that I can choose bad fear or good fear based on a promise to fear not.
We live in uncertain times. That will never change. This current pandemic will end, but uncertainty will remain in some other form.
Our choices will also remain. We can choose a worldview. And we can choose fear (bad fear) or faith (good fear).
Psalm 30:5 reads “…weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”
I don’t know how long this pandemic night will last, but I do know that morning is coming. Fear not.
Posted in best practices, Christianity, future, history, quote | Tags: fear, fear not, Jesus, plague, Thucydides, uncertainty
Independence! For centuries, both battle cries have echoed for relief from tyranny and slavery.
Funny thing – or sad thing depending upon your perspective – we’re all slaves. The question is, according to Paul David Tripp, to whom or to what?
In his book, New Morning Mercies, Tripp continues his provocative questions and ends with a contention that once stuck in my craw:
“Everyone is willing to make sacrifices; the question is, to whom or for what?
We all follow sets of rules; the question is, whose and for what?
We all give our hearts to something; the question is, to whom or to what?
We were never hardwired to be free, if by “freedom” we mean an independent, self-sufficient life.”
I hate the idea of slavery, but never hardwired to be free?? For decades I’ve been proud of my independence and self sufficiency.
And therein lies the problem. Not just the unattractiveness of pride, but the idea that I can solve every problem; that I can selectively choose when, if, and for whom I’ll make sacrifices, follow rules, or give my heart – my all.
Peace and joy were elusive at best for most of my early years. Had Twitter been a thing back then, #fail would have lurked next to many personal successes. But I kept striving – my way.
Who Ya Gonna Serve is a recurring theme on The Paceline. Put “serve” in the search window and you’ll get 10 hits. Those 10 are probably included in the 7.59B hits according to the Googleizer.
A lot of people want to serve. Everyone needs to serve. The question remains: to whom or to what?
Tripp asserts: “We were created by God to be connected to something vastly bigger than ourselves. We were designed to have our lives organized and directed by an agenda that is bigger than our truncated personal desires and goals.”
We say we hate slavery, but we push God away because we don’t want to follow his rules. But we absolutely follow other rules – or ignore rules that enslave others. Crazy! Right?
It’s taken me a long time to figure this out. Giving up my rules to follow God’s rules is incredibly freeing.
It doesn’t mean giving up what you really like for something that is really constraining. It means giving up what’s literally hopeless for a joy and peace that surpasses all understanding.
Freedom! Give it up to get it all.
Crazy! Right?
Posted in character, quote | Tags: New Morning Mercies, Paul David Tripp, serve
So I didn’t post a blog last month. My streak is over. It’s kind of a big deal since I’ve been writing at least one a month since June, 2007. But is any streak really a big deal?
Streaks by athletes and other public figures are fodder for talk-show pundits. Winning streaks are interesting for fans, advertisers, and others who make money off the winning teams, but sometimes a loss is more valuable to the team than another win.
Soon I’ll move to a new season of employment. From one of full-time work to part time (or less). A few weeks ago I caught myself thinking “if I just work through February, I can say that I worked for 50 years.”
A 50-year work streak?? Why do I need to say that? I don’t need it for a resume.
I may need it for pride.
Yuck. I may be too prideful to admit how prideful I am.
And I just thought I could avoid all seven deadly sins.
Posted in change | Tags: pride, seven deadly sins, streak
Decision fatigue is a new term to me, but it perfectly describes how I feel. James Clear identified it for me not long ago. My reaction to his article then: “Oh yeah. I sometimes have that. But I know how to deal with it.”
That was before the literal tornado appeared last week to add a new pile of decisions onto the heap that had been steadily growing for months. Ironically the storm did not include rain (initially), but the effect of adding a new list of choices to my bulging file of action items left me feeling saturated. And exhausted every night.
For years I’ve recognized the need to make daily decisions the night before. Selection of what I’ll wear the next day keeps me from mixing plaids and stripes and from taking everything but my cycling shoes when I drive away at oh dark thirty to meet friends for a long bike ride. (I write from experience.)
I learned as a kid to do the important things first. And a little later in life to put the big things in the car before you pack the small things. And always to plan your work and work your plan. (Thanks again, Dad, for teaching me well.)
As an adult I understood (but sometimes ignored) the need to do the hard stuff when I was rested and fed – not when I was “hangry” and tired. If I struggle to “git er done,” I can choose to rest, eat, or stop. You don’t always have those choices. You do have the choice to plan ahead.
“Plans are useless. Planning is everything.” General Dwight D. Eisenhower, the man who arranged those six words, was spot on.
My plan to post an eloquent blog tonight is severely hampered by my decision fatigue. I’m saturated. I choose to stop and rest.
Planning resumes tomorrow.
Posted in lessons, quote | Tags: decision fatigue, Eisenhower, James Clear, plan, planning, tornado
I first met Grumpy sometime in the late 50s. He was one of seven dwarfs hanging out with Snow White.
I met him again in the early 90s. He was an instructor pilot introducing me to aerial combat manuevers. Instructor pilots are notorious for being demanding, curt, and generally very unhappy people. My Grumpy, the IP, broke the stereotype. He was one of the nicest, coolest guys I’ve ever met.
My turn to be Grumpy came just a few weeks ago. I received my notice to renew my driver license in person. Which Grumpy would I choose to be? (That’s not a trick question.)
My default mode is set to “sour” at the thought of waiting in line for anything. For government services it regresses to “disagreeably grouchy.” Being the cheerful optimist that I am, at least in my dreams, I upgraded my attitude to “Grumpy.” I embraced my role for weeks – but I was neither nice nor cool.
After a half-dozen failed attempts over several somber weeks at all hours of the day and night to get in line via the online system, I accepted my dark fate to physically stand in line to renew my license. The weeks left before the deadline dropped to just a few. Work and travel reduced the days I could waste waiting in line to even fewer. A standing meeting on Monday morning shifted to Wednesday. It was time to embrace the suck and take my bitter pill to begin the week.
I wavered between going to the smaller office in Plano or the mega office in Garland. I decided to make a game-time decision at oh dark thirty Monday morn. I grumbled and griped all weekend, got 5 hours of sleep Sunday night, and lined up at 620a at the Garland Mega Center for the doors to open at 730a. My entire whipping lasted 4:18 by my stopwatch. I was building my case to continue griping to anyone unlucky enough to ask me how I’m doing.
HOWEVER, something happened that particular Monday morning in Garland.
Kathy, the lady who finally processed me, is a calm, poised, delightful professional who came from the corporate world. We visited while she did all the things necessary to get me into the “new” system. As I prepared to leave, I asked her if she had any specific prayer needs that I could lift for her. She paused, took a breath, then told me things that touched my heart.
She said that today was her granddaughter’s 10th birthday, that her daughter and granddaughter had just moved in with her, and that her daughter was suffering from deep depression over the tragic death of her fiancé 10 years ago. She explained more sad details and the deep concern she had for her family. I asked if it was okay to pray right then right there in the barely private confines of a state office. She didn’t hesitate to say yes. I prayed for her and her family.
It was a quiet time of peace on a Monday morning in the middle of busy government offices. God heard us. Kathy was grateful. I won’t know what happened until I see her again. That probably won’t be in this lifetime.
As I walked from the Garland Mega Center it struck me that despite every effort on my part to change the when, where, and how of going through “my ordeal,” apparently I was at the right place at the right time on the right day with the right person.
The older I get, the less I believe in coincidence.
I’m a slow learner. Maybe some day I’ll learn to not be Grumpy – especially when I’m part of the plan.
Posted in Christianity | Tags: coincidence, ordeal, prayer