Tractor Down

William has been mowing the church's back lot the past couple of years. So our old 1970 Cub Cadet has once again been showing its usefulness. However, this morning a front wheel came loose.

Will comes running in and says, "I think we have a problem." When your 15 year old says that you already begin wondering whether we have a problem or whether he has a problem that he wants you to own.

For some reason I put on jeans this morning (now I know why!) and so we went out, jacked it up and discovered the problem--the front axle had decided to crack. So fifty dollars and some dirty hands later, we (I am saying we now!) are up and running again.

Working with your children with life's little challenges proves instructive. Uncertain as to whether this was a big deal or not, Will will obviously watching to see if I would be upset, angry, or defeatist about a tractor that could no longer run, knowing that the afternoon was full, my calendar was tight, and that I am leaving at 5 tomorrow morning for a trip to Denver.

His emotions were temporarily suspended with "I think we have a problem." He was waiting to see what my emotions did, where would they go?

I am glad to report that the first words out of my mouth were, "Tractors do break down from time to time. Let's go take her apart and see what's the matter!" From then on the challenge was ours together and what was a point of potential negativity, came to be a time for bonding.

Lord, thanks. And may I have a spirit that will allow such good things come out of bad tomorrow.

Quote du jour

While putting some material on anger together I rediscovered this quote:

Anger is most useful as a diagnostic tool. When anger erupts in us, it is a signal that something is wrong. Something isn't working right. Anger is our sixth sense for sniffing out wrong. Diagnostically it is virtually infallible, and we learn to trust it. --Eugene Peterson


Rather than fear anger, we should learn to listen to it, manage it, and ultimately learn from it.

Dust

Yesterday I decided it was time to clear off a couple of file cabinets. I don't mean the contents of the cabinets; I simply am referring to that which was sitting on top of them. File folders, books, journals, encouraging notes from people, articles or material that might useful for some writing project or a sermon--it was all there.

Dust was there as well. Now the janitor who comes through my office every few days does a pretty good job of hitting the floor, emptying the waste basket, but I don't think that he was even approach the top of those two cabinets. I don't blame him. It would be like knowingly approaching an active sinkhole with the thought of climbing around in it.

For two or three years I have tossed material on the stack. Stuff I figured I would get to at some time or another or notes from some conference or an editorial in the newspaper that needed to be responded to. But in addition to all that I put there, dust gathered as well.

Passage of time can sometimes be measured by the smell of dust. The pungent, sinus-plugging, eye-watering wave of dust as you pull an old book off the shelf and realize that the pages have not been opened in years.

In fact, on the other side of my study is a shelf full of old books--one from the late 1700's. Talk about dust. To think that some of that dust is older than my great grandmother gives me pause.

I wonder what lingers in the nooks and crannies of my soul. In the shelving of life's experiences, the tossing of human relationships onto the cabinet tops of my interior being, what else shows up.

Dust.

Lord, make me clean again.

The Road Leads On

Regular readers may have noticed that the past few weeks posts to this column have been rather irregular. Let me reveal the reason for it. After over 11 years of ministry at the Westlake Church of Christ in Indianapolis, I have accepted a ministry role at the Northlake Church of Christ in Tucker, Georgia (metro--Atlanta).

Needless to say, such a change has brought a lot of unusual stresses, sorrows, and joys my way. And I am still very much in the middle of both saying goodby and hello to dear people that I love deeply and will come to love deeply.

Life presents us with lots of twists and turns. Through it all we discover the wonder and the weirdness. So I expect that though my posts will continue to be rather erratic for a couple of month. But I do expect that God will be in the middle of it all. The journey of life is best taken with God as guide. So with confidence I venture forth.

As in the Lord of the Rings, Frodo reminds Sam of Bilbo's wisdom: "It's a dangerous business going out your door. You step on to the road and if you don't keep your feet there's no knowing where you might swept off to!"

Are We There Yet?

Traveling yesterday from Indianapolis to Atlanta offered 558 miles of opportunity. A mom, a dad, four children, and a CD player that works only when it wants to--which isn't all that often. However, all the Game Boys were operational and that is a good thing.

Understanding life as a journey is an apt metaphor. There are bridges under repair that must be negotiated; rude drivers who cut in and demand your right of way; times with everything comes to a grinding halt. The journey requires detours, left turns, and unfamiliar territory. And yet, there are moments of unplanned splendor--mountain vista or conversation with your daughter (when the batteries went down in the Game Boy).

Are we there yet? No, but we are on the way.

Phone On the Water

Cell phones don't float. I already knew that. I lost one overboard my sailboat a few years ago. And no, the weather was calm. Yes, we were tied up at the dock. What can I say? Sometimes I am all thumbs.

So I guess it didn't surprise me when my last cell phone went accidently flying out of my hands in a thunderstorm into a puddle of water four inches deep. But I thought that at least the back of the phone that broke away would have floated! The battery, dense as a filled coin purse, would be expected to go down. Alas.

After two days of drying on the air conditioner vent in my bedroom I put it all back together--a project worthy of Nokia engineers--and it worked. For one day.

So now I have a new cell phone thanks to Cellular One.

Now what I found amazing about Cellular One is that I didn't have to charge the phone up. (It's been a while since I had a new phone). These new lithium--whatever batteries come charged and ready to go. And that was a real blessing because in recent weeks my left ear has begun to take the shape of a cell phone mold. I am spending enough time with a cell phone to my head that I could be a candidate for a moving cell tower for Cellular One. Sounds celly, I mean silly, doesn't it.

What relief to have instant access to my little cellular world. A battery all charged up and ready to go.

Thank you Lord for always being there. I praise you that there is never any down time with you.