The Tale of Three Trees

We had a Christmas party for our church women's group tonight. I was in charge of the "program". The program is meant to be short, sweet, and meaningful...and Christmasy in nature.

So, we took a Christmas quiz, read the Christmas story, sang some Christmas carols, and then I shared a story that has become meaningful to me. I'm not sure why this particular story impacts me so deeply. As I read through the story again this afternoon, in preparation for tonight, I was suddenly teary-eyed. I guess it makes me ponder the precious and lasting parts of life. That is an important reminder, because I am easily distracted by lesser things. I remember a line from St. Augustine's Confessions, where he discusses his life before loving Jesus. He says of his pre-Jesus life (and probably true during certain seasons of his life after Jesus): "I fell in love with beauty of a lower order". We miss Truth and Perfection because we are often focused on lesser things...still beautiful things, but not the most beautiful. We each have hopes and dreams about good and enduring things, but nothing compares with the beauty of Christ Himself. Nothing compares with the beauty of the dreams God has for us.

The story I read tonight speaks about expectations and dreams...the hopes we have for who we will become and what life will be like. Sometimes, many times, things don't work out the way we originally pictured. In those moments, it would be easy to think that God does not care about our wants and dreams. The truth is that God has bigger and better dreams in store for us than anything we can imagine.

Christmas is a wonderful picture of how God works in ways that defy imagination. I would expect God to come to earth with chariots and trumpets, making a lot of noise and fuss, with some profound scene of regal importance. Yet, when God wants to show us what divinity is all about, He comes to earth as a baby...weak, helpless, needy, messy. God's plan is so different than what I imagined. Somehow, in the end, God's idea is better.

Here is God's idea:

Colossians 1:19-20 "For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him (Jesus), and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross."

I need to be reminded, over and over and over again, that God really knows what He is doing. I like to tell God how things should be, both in my life and in the world. Forgetting that, maybe, just maybe, God has had a plan all along...and that plan far exceeds the wildest hopes of this inconsistent dreamer.

The legend of these three trees...and, more importantly, the true and amazing story of God's entrance into our world...reminds me that God is up to something, always. We can trust our dreams into His hands, because God is the best dreamer of all.

The Tale of Three Trees--an anonymous folk tale

Once upon a mountain top, three little trees stood and dreamed of what they wanted to become when they grew up. The first little tree looked up at the stars and said: "I want to hold treasure. I want to be covered with gold and filled with precious stones. I'll be the most beautiful treasure chest in the world!"

The second little tree looked out at the small stream trickling by on its way to the ocean. "I want to be traveling mighty waters and carrying powerful kings. I'll be the strongest ship in the world!"

The third little tree looked down into the valley below where busy men and women worked in a busy town. "I don't want to leave the mountain top at all. I want to grow so tall that when people stop to look at me, they'll raise their eyes to heaven and think of God. I will be the tallest tree in the world.

"Years passed and the little trees grew tall. One day three woodcutters climbed the mountain. The first woodcutter looked at the first tree and said, "This tree is beautiful. It is perfect for me." With a swoop of his shining ax, the first tree fell. "Now I shall be made into a beautiful chest, I shall hold wonderful treasure!" the first tree said.

The second woodcutter looked at the second tree and said, "This tree is strong. It is perfect for me." With a swoop of his shining ax, the second tree fell. "Now I shall sail mighty waters!" thought the second tree. "I shall be a strong ship for mighty kings!"

The third tree felt her heart sink when the last woodcutter looked her way. She stood straight and tall and pointed bravely to heaven. But the woodcutter never even looked up. "Any kind of tree will do for me." He muttered. With a swoop of his shining ax the third tree fell.

The first tree rejoiced when the woodcutter brought her to a carpenter's shop. But the carpenter fashioned the tree into a feed box for animals. The once beautiful tree was not covered with gold, nor with treasure. She was coated with sawdust and filled with hay for hungry farm animals.

The second tree smiled when the woodcutter took her to a shipyard, but no mighty ship was made that day. Instead, the once strong tree was hammered and sawed into a simple fishing boat. She was too small and too weak to sail to an ocean, or even a river. Instead she was taken to a little lake.

The third tree was confused when the woodcutter cut her into strong beams and left her in a lumberyard. "What happened?" The once tall tree wondered. "All I ever wanted was to stay on the mountain top and point to God...

"Many, many days and nights passed. The three trees nearly forgot their dreams. But one night, golden starlight poured over the first tree as a young woman placed her newborn baby in the feed box. "I wish I could make a cradle for him," her husband whispered. The mother squeezed his hand and smiled as the starlight shone on the smooth and the sturdy wood. "This manger is beautiful," she said. And suddenly the first tree knew he was holding the greatest Treasure in the world.

One evening a tired traveler and his friends crowded into the old fishing boat. The traveler fell asleep as the second tree quietly sailed out into the lake. Soon a thundering and thrashing storm arose. The little tree shuddered. She knew she did not have the strength to carry so many passengers safely through the wind and the rain. The tired man awakened. He stood up, stretched out his hand and said, "Peace." The storm stopped as quickly as it had begun. And suddenly the second tree knew he was carrying the King of heaven and earth.

One Friday morning, the third tree was startled when her beams were yanked from the forgotten woodpile. She flinched as she was carried through an angry jeering crowd. She shuddered when soldiers nailed a man's hands to her. She felt ugly and harsh and cruel. But on Sunday morning, when the sun rose and the earth trembled with joy beneath her, the third tree knew that God's love had changed everything. It had made the third tree strong. And every time people thought of the third tree, they would think of God. That was better than being the tallest tree in the world.

Immanuel (meaning "God with Us")

This is one of my favorite Christmas songs. It is beautiful and true :-)

The lyrics:
A sign shall be given
A virgin will conceive
A human baby bearing
Undiminished deity
The glory of the nations
A light for all to see
That hope for all who will embrace
His warm reality

Immanuel
Our God is with us
And if God is with us
Who could stand against us
Our God is with us
Immanuel

For all those who live in the shadow of death
A glorious light has dawned
For all those who stumble in the darkness
Behold your light has come

Immanuel
Our God is with us
And if God is with us
Who could stand against us
Our God is with us
Immanuel

So what will be your answer?
Will you hear the call?
Of Him who did not spare His son
But gave him for us all
On earth there is no power
There is no depth or height
That could ever separate us
From the love of God in Christ

Immanuel
Our God is with us
And if God is with us
Who could stand against us
Our God is with us
Immanuel

Winter Wonderland

Walking my dogs tonight, I was awed by the beauty of snow. It is the first time snow has fallen with any constancy this season. My dogs like to jump up and catch it on their tongues. So do I, if truth be told.

I love this time of year, when snow is still new and exciting. By February, snow becomes burdensome, gray, and depressing. But now, at the beginning of its winter reign, the snow is a gift. Something about snow makes life seem magical, as if anything can happen, at any time; the world is filled with expectation. While it is falling, everything seems bright, crisp, new, clean.

There is a section of trees not far from my front door. They are huge evergreens, all clumped together, with an antique light post directly in the middle. Tonight, surrounded by evergreens, standing in front of the misplaced light post while snow fell with unrelenting gentleness, I felt like I was transported into a Narnian land.

In C.S. Lewis's "Chronicles of Narnia" series, a light post is accidentally transplanted in the ground as Narnia is created. The light post becomes a landmark during the consecutive books, an oddity that stands out in the midst of the wintery forest. Narnia instantly captured my imagination as a young reader (it still does, as an older reader). Narnia is an enchanted land of surprises and wonders. It is a land of talking animals, most notably, Aslan...the Lion. Aslan is meant to be a Christ-figure.

Whenever I think about Narnia and about Aslan, there is one scene from the books that always comes to mind. It is a discussion about Aslan's nature--what He is really like.

(From: "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe")

"Is - is he a man?" asked Lucy.

"Aslan a man!" said Mr. Beaver sternly.
"Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea. Don't you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion - the Lion, the great Lion."

"Ooh!" said Susan, "I'd thought he was a man. Is he - quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion."

"That you will, dearie, and no mistake," said Mrs. Beaver, "if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else just silly."

"Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy.

"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver. "Don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."
-----

I love that line: "'Course he isn't safe. But he's good". What a perfect description of Jesus. Jesus is the Judge, the King, the Ruler, the One who "calls the shots"...but lest we become frightened that He is some despotic ruler, we remember that He is good.

That is a great reminder for this season of the year. Christmas is not just about a baby. It is about a baby who is King. He is so big and powerful that our minds can't contain Him, but He is so good that He takes on our weakness to show us His love.

I will close with lyrics to a song...a song about a King who became a baby...a King who is not safe, but is always good.

"Welcome to our World" by Chris Rice:

Tears are falling,
hearts are breaking
How we need to hear from God
You've been promised, we've been waiting
Welcome Holy Child
Welcome Holy Child

Hope that you don't mind our manger
How I wish we would have known
But long-awaited Holy Stranger
Make Yourself at home
Please make Yourself at home

Bring Your peace into our violence
Bid our hungry souls be filled
Word now breaking Heaven's silence
Welcome to our world
Welcome to our world

Fragile fingers sent to heal us
Tender brow prepared for thorns
Tiny heart whose blood will save us
Unto us is born
Unto us is born

So wrap our injured flesh around You
Breathe our air and walk our sod
Rob our sin and make us holy
Perfect Son of God
Perfect Son of God
Welcome to our world

Atrophy

Atrophy: any weakening or degeneration (especially through lack of use)

If something is really true (the "deep down in your bones" kind of truth) it applies to all aspects of life. I have come to believe in the process of atrophy as a universal truth. Unused muscles--of any type--will weaken, degenerate, cease to function. What is true of the body is true of the blog. Lack of attention to any area of life leads to a decrease in function. Ignore the blog, and the blog will cease to thrive.

As you may have noticed, I've been on hiatus. At first, it was intentional, to give me time for mission trips and other summer ministry demands. However, weeks have now turned to months (evidenced most clearly by the steadily falling snow outside). I've learned that if you take too much time away from anything, it is difficult to gain momentum again. The whole process of blogging and not blogging has made me wonder about the myriad responsibilites of life. With so many things demanding our time, how do you know which to put first?

I have long loved the quote: "The 'good' is the enemy of the 'best'". There are a million good things competing for our attention. Which are the BEST things, the most important things, the things worthy of our ultimate focus?

With blogging, for example, I contemplated giving up on the process. After all, I had gotten out of the habit and was sure that all two people that read my blog would move on to more profound reading materials in my absence. Amazingly, I have discovered that, perhaps, more than 2 people actually read my blog.

It is one thing when your mom tells you she misses what you have to say. This is the same woman who hung very sub-par craft projects on the refrigerator and considered them divinely inspired "art". Recently, though, I have actually heard from people I do not know--strangers wondering if I died or something. While it is flattering to know there are people that actually care what I have to say, it is not my main impetus for blogging again. Really, I just plain miss it. I miss writing. I miss the thinking about thinking that it takes to write.

The whole process has made me think about priorities. Maybe a way to choose priorites is asking the question: Is this something that I really want to live without?

At least for now, this is something I no longer want to live without. I can't speak for the future, when other important things that I want in my life may call me to reconsider previous commitments. But for now, I am back.

Customer Service Woes

I am getting ready to leave on our youth mission trip to Kingston, TN this weekend. There are a lot of last minute details I am trying take care of before leaving. Tonight, I was checking my bank account online, making sure that bills had been paid and checking to see if a deposit had registered. To be honest, I have addiction issues with checking my bank account online. I check it probably twice a day, sometimes three times…just because I can.

Tonight, I noticed a charge from amazon.com for $5.95 that came out of my checking account. The thing is, I haven’t bought anything from amazon.com in a few weeks—but admittedly, I am a frequent amazon shopper. I went and checked my amazon.com account to see what that charge was from, and there was nothing in my account information that explained the charge. My computerized bank statement actually had a contact number that went with the charge, so I decided to call. Apparently, I am so desperate for $6 that I am willing to spend my Friday night on the phone with a customer service representative. Really, though, I was just worried that other unauthorized charges might start popping up on my checking account and I wanted to make sure that didn’t happen.

So, I call. The person who answers the phone is from India…seriously. She can barely pronounce the questions that her script tells her to ask. I am pretty good at understanding people with accents, but not tonight. I kept saying, “Could you say that again?” I felt like such a jerk! She seemed like a nice lady and was trying really hard, but the whole interaction was frustrating. It took 3 minutes just to clarify the spelling of my last name (granted, my last name is not that user friendly, but still…). Then she put me on hold for 12 minutes to “research the situation further”…yes, I sat on the phone, holding for an obscene amount of time, just for my $6. When you make 20 cents an hour, $6 is a big deal! Seriously, though, my real question was: why am I being charged for things that I did not purchase or authorize?

After being on hold forever, she came back and asked for more information…like my blood type, my favorite movie, and my deepest fears and desires…actually, the questions were somewhat more closely related to the topic at hand, but it felt like the conversation was headed in a completely unrelated direction. Seriously, how much information do you need to find out why I am paying $6 for nothing?

At the end of all this, she tells me that I will get an email in the next 1-2 business days from someone who has researched this further. I ask: “So, this email will tell me why that money was taken out of my account and assure me that it won’t happen again?” She simply repeats: “You will get an email in the next 1-2 business days from someone who has researched this further”. Then she added, “ok?” I think she said “ok” about 567.2 times during our 24 minute (and 20 second) conversation. That’s right. I was on the phone close to a half an hour over $6. I promise it was the principle of the thing that kept me going. And yet, after all that time, I know nothing more than I did before. Such is the state of customer service in the year 2007.

Christian Beauty Tips

I was surfing the Reynoldsburg Emmaus website tonight and read their latest newsletter. In that newletter was the following article, which I thought was cute...so here it is...

REAL BEAUTY - submitted by Kimberley Scott
We live in a beauty-obsessed culture, where we long for perfection--doing whatever we must do, buying whatever we must buy and spending whatever must be spent--to find perfection in this less-than-beautiful, imperfect world.

As important as physical beauty is, so much more so to God is our inward heart beauty. To be truly chic and glamorous, consider the following Christian "Beauty Tips":
1) For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
2) For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others.
3) To improve your ears, listen to the Word of God.
4) Rather than focusing on the thorns of life, stop to smell the roses and count your blessings, giving thanks for each one of them.
5) To strengthen your arms, hug someone and touch them with your love.
6) To strengthen your heart, forgive yourself and others.
7) Wondering what to wear? For the ultimate in business, casual or evening attire, put on the robe of Christ--it fits like a glove, but allows plenty of room for growth. Best of all, it never goes out of style and is appropriate for any occasion!

Dogs, treats, and the grace of God...

As I type this, I am sitting in an oversized chair with two dogs curled up on the top of the chair. It is like having a giant, fury headrest. I mention this because I am going to talk about my dogs…again.

We went out for a walk this morning: Ariel, Pepper, and I. Our usual routine is to go for a walk, come back in and take off the leashes, and then get a “treat”. The dogs usually stalk me until they get their treat. They act as if they’ve been stranded on a desert island without any food for days. This morning, as I went into the kitchen to get the treats, only Pepper followed me. I called to Ariel and she didn’t come, which was odd, especially since food was involved. I walked into the living room and found her sitting on the couch (the WHITE couch, mind you), looking as cute as ever. I threw the treat toward her and it landed on the floor, a couple feet in front of the couch. Ariel just sat on the couch, looking at the treat. I thought it was odd, but figured that she was just being independent. So, I ran upstairs to collect laundry and once I finished with that, Ariel was still on the couch. I realized something must be wrong, because normally she and Pepper both follow me around like I am a world-famous movie star and they are the paparazzi (it makes me think I am way more important than I actually am!).

I went over to Ariel on the couch and started touching her to see if she had any sore spots. I lifted her little bottom up from her sitting position and realized the problem. DISCLAIMER: something disgusting is about to be said!!! Turns out, it was a poop issue…a little stuck and dangling (did I mention that I have a white couch?!). So, being a good dog-mom, I went to get some toilet paper and we did a little “procedure” to free Ariel from her discomfort. She instantly ran to get her treat and commenced with stalking me all over the house.

I felt pretty bad that I made her sit there for about ten minutes before even checking to see if she was ok. She did a number of strange things, all of which should have alerted me that something wasn’t right. It made me think about God and how He takes care of us in a very different way than we take care of things. He knows instantly what the problem is; He knows even before we do. He doesn’t leave us to sit in our own poop, proverbially speaking. God rushes to our aid, to do for us what we are unable to do for ourselves. That means a lot to me and is a great reassurance, especially during the poopy seasons of life.

It also makes me think of a song, of which I only know a few lines (and am not even sure who wrote it). But I offer it to you today as a message of comfort and hope:

He didn't bring us this far just to leave us.

He didn't teach us to swim to let us drown.
He didn't build His home in us just to move away.
He didn't pick us up to let us down.

Nerdishness

It has been a while, blogophiles. I apologize. Things will be hit and miss this summer, but I will be a little more regular and definitely back in full swing by the fall. For today, I offer you the results of my "nerd test"...not that I needed a test to prove the implicit nerdiness of my being, but it isn't quite as bad as I suspected.

Being Knit

I came across an article entitled, "I was born in the wrong body" on an internet news site last week. I didn't read the article, but I think it was about people who are born, biologically, as one gender but feel, psychologically, that they are the other gender. My first response to that title was: "Well, who doesn't think that to some degree?" I mean, I have thought for a long time that I was, in fact, born in the wrong body. The body I was meant to have looked a lot more like Angelina Jolie's body than mine. I've thought about a lawsuit, trying to get my body back, but am doubtful that I would win.

I'm not trying to diminish the deep, internal pain that people with gender issues face. I'm just thinking that we all, to some degree, feel out of place in our bodies. Eating disorders are rampant in our culture. The cosmetics industry is a multi-billion dollar industry. Plastic surgery, hair implants, weight loss products and paraphernalia are all hallmarks of our intense dissatisfaction with our physical bodies.

The Bible refers to our mortal bodies as "tents"...giving the impression that this flesh is temporary, at least in the grand scheme of things. There is also mention of us having "resurrection bodies", which is an idea that brings me a particular joy. That doesn't mean our earthly bodies are of no value or that we shouldn't care for them as if they were a gift from God (which, in fact, they are). It's just good to keep in mind the temporary nature of this world. Meaning, even though I don't look like Angelina Jolie now (because, as I mentioned earlier, she stole my body in a top-secret sting operation), someday I will...

I wonder if our dissatisfaction with who we are as people is upsetting to God. He made us all extraordinary, different and beautiful in our own ways. Yet, we spend our lives trying to change who we are, deeply dissatisfied with God's creative genius in our unique situations and bodies.

God’s unique creative process has become a lot clearer to me as I've been learning how to knit in the past few months. Some of the ladies from church formed a group called the "Knit Wits", for knitters in all stages of expertise. I thought I'd give it a try and gracefully bow out if I knitted like a chicken (not sure how chickens knit, but probably better than me). I'm not the world's greatest knitter, but I am starting to get it. There are only two different stitches in knitting: the knit and the purl. Sounds pretty easy. It's not. That's what they told me to get me to start: "Oh Tina, there are only two stitches. You'll pick it up in no time at all". Well, there's a lot more to knitting than that, but I won't bore you. I am amazed at the myriad creations which are possible from the combination of some yarn, two needles, and two basic stitches (note to my family: prepare yourselves for a lifetime of knitted Christmas and birthday gifts!).

My knitting is still very flawed. I make mistakes and then have to backtrack just to figure out what I did...sometimes taking out several rows worth of work in the process. But a master knitter, she can look at what you did and tell you in an instant where it went wrong. Using the same two stitches, a master knitter can create works of beauty that I can't even imagine creating...even if I practiced for years.

And all this, of course, makes me think about God...who could be called the Master knitter of all master knitters. Psalm 139:13 says of God's creating us: "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb."

This makes me think a lot of things, but primarily that God intentionally and uniquely created each one of us. We are distinct, purposed creations. We are each meant to be here, as we are, looking how we do, being who we are, residing in the bodies in which we currently reside...God planned it all from the beginning. You don't accidentally knit something. It is intentional. It takes purpose and planning. We are not here by accident, or mistake. We are here because God chose to knit us into existence. I picture these big cosmic hands knitting me into being...and that makes me smile.

Another thing about knitting: it is very intimate. Both of your hands are involved. You have to hold the yarn and the needles close to your arms, your chest, your eyes. The more complex the pattern, the more detailed attention you have to give to your creation. What is more complex than a human being? I picture this knitting God focusing His whole attention on our creation, delighting in each completed "row" until the creation grows to its fullness. Then He must sit back proudly and say, "I made that. That's good stuff."

I felt pride at my first creation: a blue wash cloth that my mother received as a Mother's Day present. She appropriately gushed over my creation, the way only a mother could. I was amazed that I actually made something. It was so hard just to figure out what I was doing—taking hours and hours of practice before I could even begin to make something. But there I was, an imperfect creator making an imperfect creation--and still somehow, thinking it was wonderful. Imagine God, the Perfect Creator, making us...incapable of making anything but a perfect creation.

So, if you ever feel like you were born in the wrong body--or dislike the particular way you were created--remember that you were knit together by God Himself...and He thinks what you are is good…amazing, even. Who are we to debate God’s opinion of us?

Ten Things I Think, Part Deux

Here are the rest of 10 things I think:

6) Boring Sermons
Even the best preacher has a "bad" Sunday once in a while. Maybe 'bad' isn't the best word choice. It's just that every sermon cannot be exceptional--that would defeat the purpose of exceptional, really. Sunday was such a Sunday for me. Sometimes you know it is going to be a weak sermon going into it: you don't really connect well with the Biblical text, you feel uninspired, you had a difficult week, you can't find the "so what?" factor (which is the part of the sermon that answers the question, "so what does this mean for me and my life?", which is the ultimate question people are asking), etc. There are a lot of reasons why every sermon is not a stellar sermon. Most times, you know it going in...but sometimes, like Sunday, you figure it out mid-sermon.

Any person who is a regular public speaker learns how to "read" an audience. You can tell when people are "with you", when their eyes are totally fixed on yours and it seems that everyone is waiting expectantly for the next word to come out of your mouth. You can also tell when people are doodling, thinking about their shopping lists, or staring at their watches. On those days, you sometimes want to stop, right in the middle, and say: "Would you like me to just stop now and we can all get to Bob Evan's a little bit sooner?"

I felt that "bad sermon" vibe this Sunday. Half the people were with me, but half the people looked fidgety and ready to go...almost before I started. There was one bright spot in the midst of the sermon, our sweet keyboardist, Marla. Every time I looked over at her, she smiled at me, nodded and looked like she was paying attention. On a bad sermon day, you need someone like that to cheer you on...and remind you that maybe someone is actually getting something out of the sermon.

The funny thing is, as I stood at the door after service (to shake hands and kiss babies) one man said to me: "Do you have a telescope straight into my soul?" I said, "Why yes, I do". And we laughed, but apparently, something in the sermon--which felt endless to me--spoke to him. The lesson I learned from this: maybe I am not the most objective critic of my own sermons!

Along those lines, I was in the church library this week with our librarian, Jane, and her husband, Tom. They were going through some books that were donated from another area church. Amidst the boxes of books was a book entitled, "Things to do during a dull sermon". We all laughed and laughed about that, and Tom put it in our stewardship chair's mailbox, since he seems like the kind of guy who would really get a kick out of that. I have a feeling that I will be seeing that book again and again. There must be a lot of dull sermons in order for a book like that to be written...and we have all, unfortunately, experienced them or else it wouldn't be so funny.

7) The Simpsons
I admit it, I am a Simpsons fan. I love the satire of it all. The show is intelligent and sarcastic and multi-faceted, plus most of the episodes are really funny. I realize it is a cartoon and that it is, at times, controversial. Multitudes of others must share my Simpsons affinity, because the show now has 400 episodes to its credit and is going on its 19th season in 2007-2008. One of the great woes of my life concerns the Simpsons movie which is coming out this summer, at the end of July, when I will be in Russia on a mission trip. I am hoping that Moscow might have a special Simpsons premier at the Kremlin or something (pretty positive that isn't an option).

The Simpsons were a big deal when I was in seminary. Every Sunday night was Simpsons night at our house. One time, for the Simpsons season premier, we had a huge party and were going to rent a big screen TV (but it was too expensive for our jobless budgets)...so we hooked up several TVs and turned them all to the same channel, while multitudes crowded into our small living room. It was like watching TV at Best Buy, but it is a beautiful and unfading memory. We even had a Simpsons-marathon sleepover one time, since one of my friends had taped virtually every episode of the Simpsons (this was before every season of every show was instantly released as a set on DVD). Most Seminary conversations contained some Simpsons quote or reference. It was like the Simpsons also attended Asbury Theological Seminary. So now, when I watch the Simpsons, it reminds of community, shared memories, and the closest relationships of my life. It is amazing how a group of little yellow cartoons reminds me of God's greatest blessings to me, but it does...and I love it!

8) Listening
People tell me all the time that I am a really good listener, which makes me laugh. I am very aware of the times I interrupt someone, simply because I want to say something. I am aware of the times my mind starts to wander when someone says things that aren't interesting or exciting. I am aware of times when I don't ask follow-up questions about something that someone obviously wants to talk about. I am not a "great listener".

In reality, I am an average listener. The sad truth: most people are such bad listeners that my average listening skills appear exceptional. People don't listen well. They don't ask questions, they interrupt, they talk about themselves more than anything else, they don't watch for nonverbal cues that communicate more deeply than words, and they don't remember details of things people have shared. I will ask people, all the time, about things they tell me...and they say, "I'm so impressed that you remembered that". It is not hard to remember what people say if you are really paying attention. Most people are not really paying attention. So, when someone does remember things, it stands out. Most people would label themselves as good listeners, but it is kind of like driving. Pretty much everyone things they are a good driver, and yet look at all the accidents. We are not really honest with ourselves.

I have had so many encounters with people where they talk 90 percent of the time. I am not talking about professional counseling sessions, where it is my pastoral role to listen and ask questions. I am talking about normal interactions at meals and outings. One time, I was at a meal with someone who talked about themselves for an hour straight, literally. I really didn't mind, because I like learning about people and enjoy asking questions. The thing that struck me as odd was, after an hour, the person said to me, "All I have done is talk. Now I want to hear about you." And I said, "Well, what do you want to know?"...and within a minute, we were back to talking about her, for another hour. I wasn't bothered by the fact that she talked and I listened. I was bothered that she noticed what was going and then just continued to talk about herself--like it didn't really matter. Most people are unintentionally self-centered...but to intentionally be that way is not as acceptable to me.

Overall, I like listening to people. Listening is a way to show people that they matter and that you care about them. It is a simple way to put love into action. I find people fascinating. I like to hear stories. I like to understand where people are from and how they think. I like to ask questions. It saddens me that the majority of people don't seem to share my affinity for listening to others.

The times that non-listening bothers me most, really, is when I am in a group of people and someone is sharing something significant, and another person jumps in with some tangent that really has nothing to do with what is going on and is generally just about them. We are all so rude to one another. We talk a lot more than we listen. We interrupt, constantly. We talk over each other. We think our opinion is the most important opinion--and must be shared before someone else has the chance to speak. My latest prayer is: "God, when I talk too much, shut me up; teach me how to listen; give me a heart that really cares; make it my greatest desire to show You to others, instead of getting my own way, making my own point, or saying something really profound; Jesus, just get me out of the way until all people see is You".

9) Extreme Makeover: Home Edition
I like to watch "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition". It is nice to see a show that isn't sleazy. I have a little problem with the underlying premise that material things make up for horrible tragedy and pain. Yet, some of the conditions that people live in are just shocking. I'm not sure that flat screen tvs and computers in every room are necessary all the time...but safe, clean, pretty homes and financial help and college tuition...those things are good things. Most of all, people really need Jesus and the community of the church, but that wouldn't be a ratings hit for tv. To me, there should be no need for this show...the Church should step up and be the church. Every community that Extreme Makeover: Home Edition has gone to must have tons of churches within a mile of those homes. I remember hearing in seminary that there were only two counties in the entire USA that did not have at least one United Methodist Church. And that is just the United Methodists. Where are these churches and what are they doing? People are living in squalor and can't feed their families and what are we doing about it?

This past Sunday, the family receiving a home makeover was a single mom who, as a social worker, ended up adopting several kids with AIDS. She talked about the prejudice and hate that her family had experienced. In one scene, at a camp for children with AIDS, one girl (from another family) stood up and talked about getting kicked out of church on Easter Sunday by...get this...THE PASTOR. The pastor asked her and her family to leave, on Easter Sunday, because she had AIDS. This makes me livid! First, no one should EVER, EVER, EVER be asked to leave on a Sunday morning...even if they have leprosy. Jesus pretty much showed us how to treat all people, even people that are scary or may be contagious (which AIDS certainly isn't...not from sitting in the same room...and even if it were, Jesus didn't care about that kind of stuff and neither should His followers).

I have heard of ushers at churches telling people they weren't dressed correctly for church (seriously, not making it up) and have heard other ridiculous things said by people who go to church but obviously don't get Jesus AT ALL...but a PASTOR...a PASTOR...a pastor should know better...a pastor will be judged more harshly for something like that (check the Bible), probably because he/she is supposed to teach/show people what God is like...what a bad example. The girl and her mother still cried as she talked about not being able to go to church on Easter. I am sure that Jesus cried too. If I could find out who that pastor was, they would be hearing from me.

10) Dogs
A day would not be complete without a story about my dogs. I give my dogs these treats called "bully sticks". The lady that I got Pepper from introduced me to them. The dogs love them, they last a long time, and they never choke on them. They are a bit expensive, but if you buy them in bulk (from ebay, nonetheless!) you can get a pretty good deal. When I researched what a bully stick really is, it turns out they are sometimes tendons from bulls, but mostly bull penises (that's right, I said "penis" on my blog).

The whole thing disgusts me to no end, but the dogs are crazy about them. So, I try to make minimal contact with these things...and usually, both the dogs grab them out of my hand faster than the speed of light...and then run away from me like I am going to take the treat back or something. Every once in a while, Pepper kind of looks at the bully stick I am trying to hand her, like she is figuring out if I am giving her something good or bad. You can tell she wants it but she is a little apprehensive. Since I refuse to hold onto those gross, smelly things any longer than I have to, I just drop hers on the floor. The minute the bully stick hits the floor, she snatches it up and runs away, usually to bury it. Sometimes, Pepper forgets where she buried her treat and stares at Ariel eating her treat and then comes to me, whining and looking pitiful, until I go searching for her treat and find it for her. I love Pepper, but she is not the sharpest tool in the shed, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, this whole treat process makes me think about God and the good gifts He tries to give us. I have never once given Pepper a bad treat or something that would hurt her. Everything I give her is either a toy or a treat or some people food. Most times, she freely and eagerly takes what I give. But every once in a while, she looks perplexed, like I am trying to trick her. This frustrates me endlessly because I have never done anything but love and pamper her. And I wonder how many good and wonderful gifts God offers to me--is even offering to me right now--and I refuse because I am scared or because I doubt His goodness. How many times do I hide and hoard the gifts I have been given, "burying" them, scared that it may be the last gift, scared that God will forget about me from now on.

I know how much I love my dogs (it is pitiful, really) and I know that I would never hurt them, intentionally. I occasionally step on one of them because they insist on being within an inch of me at all times...and I feel horrible when it happens. But I am imperfect. God is perfect. He never steps on us, unintentionally or intentionally. He chooses to bless us and form us and lead us and change us...and sometimes refine us...but always with His best for us in mind. I wonder why we are so distrusting at times. Why do we expect God to be anything but overwhelmingly good to us?