Thanksgiving

Most of the news sweeping our country – and indeed, our world - is troubling. It is difficult to get our minds around words like “depression” and "economic fixes" that reach into the trillions of dollars. To try and find something to feel good about as it relates to economic health and well-being seems a lost cause. Along with that, we still have young men and women serving in harms way in nations that have grown increasingly hostile and unthankful as it relates to their efforts. We are a nation that is broke and at war.

And yet, here we are at Thanksgiving – a time when we as a nation pause to say "thank-you." Most of us know that our first Thanksgiving was celebrated in 1691 by our forefathers to commemorate the harvest reaped by the Plymouth Colony. It was not an “official” holiday as such. It was more a spontaneous outpouring of thanks to God for His provision.

President George Washington was the first President to declare Thanksgiving a holiday in 1789. If you have never taken the time to read this declaration, please take a moment to do so. I would even encourage you to read this with those whom you share Thanksgiving. It almost qualifies as a devotional…

The Thanksgiving Proclamation
New York, 3 October 1789

By the President of the United States of America: a Proclamation. Whereas it is the duty of all Nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey his will, to be grateful for his benefits, and humbly to implore his protection and favor--and whereas both Houses of Congress have by their joint Committee requested me `to recommend to the People of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many signal favors of Almighty God especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness.' Now therefore I do recommend and assign Thursday the 26th day of November next to be devoted by the People of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being, who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be -- That we may then all unite in rendering unto him our sincere and humble thanks -- for his kind care and protection of the People of this Country previous to their becoming a Nation--for the signal and manifold mercies, and the favorable interpositions of his Providence which we experienced in the tranquility, union, and plenty, which we have since enjoyed--for the peaceable and rational manner, in which we have been enabled to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national One now lately instituted -- for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed; and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and in general for all the great and various favors which he hath been pleased to confer upon us. And also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and beseech him to pardon our national and other transgressions--to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually -- to render our national government a blessing to all the people, by constantly being a Government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed--to protect and guide all Sovereigns and Nations (especially such as have shewn kindness onto us) and to bless them with good government, peace, and concord -- To promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increase of science among them and us -- and generally to grant unto all Mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as he alone knows to be best. Given under my hand at the City of New-York the third day of October in the year of our Lord 1789.
George Washington

Seventy-four years later, a tortured President in the midst of a national struggle and a nation awash in the blood of its youth, would codify Thanksgiving as not “a” holiday, but as a “national holiday.” In an attempt to unify our fractured nation, Abraham Lincoln made this declaration:

Abraham Lincoln's Thanksgiving Declaration:
"The year that is drawing toward its close has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added which are of so extraordinary a nature that they can not fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever-watchful providence of Almighty God.

In the midst of a civil war of unequaled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign states to invite and to provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere, except in the theater of military conflict, while that theater has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union. Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defense have not arrested the plow, the shuttle, or the ship; the ax has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well as the iron and coal as of our precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege, and the battlefield, and the country, rejoicing in the consciousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom. No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently, and gratefully acknowledged, as with one heart and one voice, by the whole American people. I do therefore invite my fellow-citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next as a day of thanksgiving and praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners, or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the imposition of the Almighty hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it, as soon as may be consistent with the divine purpose, to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquility, and union.

In testimony whereof I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed. Done at the city of Washington, this 3d day of October, A.D. 1863, and of the Independence of the United States the eighty-eighth.

It is fitting to remember that Lincoln made this proclamation during a very depressing, eventful and hopeless time in our nation’s history. Let me give you a brief timeline…

May 3, 1863 Abraham Lincoln and congress institute the draft. Every able man from age 20-45 is called upon to shore up the Union forces.

May 1-4, 1863 The Union Army is soundly defeated at Chancellorsville under “Fighting” Joe Hooker. The Union Army losses are 17,000. The South loses 13,000.

May 10, 1863 The South suffers a huge blow as Stonewall Jackson is accidently felled by one of his own sentries.

July 1-3, 1863 One of the most memorable and epic battles of the Civil War takes place at Gettysburg. What began as a skirmish ended up involving over 160,000 soldiers. The Union loses 23,000 men while the Confederates lose 28,000.

July 13-16 Upon returning from the smoking battlefields of Gettysburg, the tired soldiers are called upon to quell anti-draft riots in New York City. 120 citizens would die along with property damage estimated at 2 million dollars. (about $70,000,000 in our current economy).

August 21, 1863 Out west, the notorious pro-slavery guerilla leader, William Quantrill, leads a massacre that fells 182 men and boys in Lawrence, Kansas.

Those are just a few of the highlights that offer the backdrop to a sad and tired President announcing that Thanksgiving would become, now, a national holiday. It seems counter-intuitive does it not? And yet, it was exactly the right thing to do at that moment.

Thanksgiving is one of those commands of Scripture that requires some grit on our part in order to obey. The command is monolithic in its sweep: “…in everything give thanks, for this is God’s will concerning you in Christ Jesus.” I Thessalonians 5:18 The command just sits there – cold and unfeeling - without any particular concern for our particular circumstances. The word “everything” really means everything. It is one of the least practiced commands that I can name. Many commands of Scripture are peculiar to a given circumstance of temptation. “Do not steal…” merits practice on those occasions when we might have an opportunity to actually help ourselves to something that is not ours to take. That is true of many of the commands – they are situational and opportunistic in nature.

But – this positive command to walk through life as a “thanker” [sic] – requires a wholesale rewiring of the defective units that we are. We are born complainers, whiners, dark-siders, foreboders, critics, nay-sayers and nit-picks. Thankfulness and gratefulness are neither inborn gifts nor are they natural inclinations. Thankfulness is an intentional, willful and sweaty discipline.

I have found that it is best to remain elemental in the practice of this discipline. In other words, I begin with those things that I am able to do each morning. Because I have had friends over the years who were paralyzed, I begin by thanking God that I can shower, dress, and feed myself each day. That is a big deal.

As I tool about my house, I thank God for all the “stuff” that makes my life richer than a medieval king. I have cold food in the fridge and freezer. I have a magic flame that appears when I merely turn a handle that will cook my food. If I am really in a hurry, I have an enchanted box that will enhance the speed of cooking to a mere minute or two. The only reason I have to burn candles is if I want a nice fragrance in my house – not in order to see. I get into my mode of transportation and my beast of burden carries me safely back and forth to work –with heated or with cooled air depending on the season - and I only have to feed it two or three times a month. Most of my work is done in the confines of an office. I can access the entire database of man’s knowledge with the press of a finger. I can write and make mistakes and not have to use white-out.

My point is this – there is an endless list of categories given to us to explore that could easily invoke a steady stream of thanksgiving from our hearts and lips. The command to be thankful at all times is not all that difficult to do. We just have to remember to do it.

And here is the thing that I have found – the practice of thanksgiving is transformative. Becoming a thankful person changes our perspective from one of narrow-minded pessimist to possibility-filled optimist. An ungrateful heart sees lack, limit and disappointment. A thankful heart sees millions of “colleagues” in the host of good things that have graced his or her day. Having taken note of these heretofore unseen graces, the thankful heart can lay a sure bet that there will be more good things to come – at just the right moment and in the right amount.

Which person would you rather be?

Humor Me, Part 3

Segue – It is more than an odd form of unsuccessful transportation used by Google employees - which they spell "Segway." Segue is a smooth transition from one set of thoughts, scenes, rhythms or scales to another. Sometimes the segue is seamless. Sometimes it is abrupt and offensive. You be the judge as to the relative skill I exhibit in pulling off, in this blog, a smooth segue. Your vote counts!

…But not so much – if you voted Republican. Alas, the man with the beloved Celtic “Mc” in his name was shot down for the second time in his life. Fortunately, there were no angry Viet-Cong waiting to torture him – just a host of finger-wagging Republicans. “Ah, Mac, we barely knew ye.”

My personal props to President-elect Obama - I pray God’s best for you and your family. Your success is our success. May the wisdom that transformed Illinois’ former favorite son – old Honest Abe – be yours in double portions.

To Governor Palin – the woman who can “bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan” (and field dress it when necessary) – take good care of that crude oil up there in the land of Seward’s folly. You might consider hosting a hunting party with some of your media detractors who could think of nothing more important to talk about than your clothing budget. Be sure and invite Dick Cheney. Up to this point, he has only shot his friends. He might jump at the chance to “wing” a left-winger.

And Vice President Biden - what joy you will bring the disenfranchised party for the next four years. As Katie Couric nodded in agreement, you reminded us that President Roosevelt went on national TV during the great stock market crash of 1929 to comfort the nation. (Never mind that President Roosevelt wasn’t inaugurated for his first term until 1933 and that television was in its infancy in 1929. 

(See: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NTBZHf6WyG0&feature=related). 

But, no worries Joe, I’ll send you an MP3 file of the Gettysburg address I downloaded from YouTube. Man, Lincoln rocked at that one!

Oh, and one more…President Bush. Near history is almost always unkind to departing Presidents. Perhaps one day historians will be amazed that you were able to keep another 9-11 from happening for seven years. I read that, last week, one of your dogs bit a White House reporter. Was that one last pre-emptive strike?

Let’s see….where were we? I believe that before the elections and all of that brew-ha-ha, I had set my heart on talking about humor. I need it and our nation needs it. So, let us be done with the wearisome ways of politics, crashing stock-markets, “prop” this and “prop” that, and return to some decent mirth.

And with that, let me just say: sniglets are cool. A sniglet is a word that doesn’t appear in the dictionary, but should. Let me share a few examples…

Nagivator: a spouse who sits by and criticizes the driving or his or her spouse.

Cheedle: the orange residue left on your fingers after eating cheese-puffs.

Bo'zone: the atmosphere surrounding stupid people that will not allow bright ideas to penetrate.

Cashtration: the act of a young couple buying a house, new cars and amassing credit card debt to the extent they become financially impotent.

Hipatitis: terminal coolness.

Reintarnation: coming back to life as a hillbilly.

Arachnoleptic Fit: that crazy dance you do when you walk into a spider web.

Now that you have the hang of it, I thought I would take a crack at a few church sniglets – having logged several decades in and around the brethren. I will offer a brief narrative set-up for each. Here we go…

Potential sniglet combo: Organ + Spasm…I once dated a German Lutheran girl back in my early college days. One Sunday, she invited me to her German Lutheran Church to hear her play the organ. Growing up a low-church Baptist, I was expecting to hear her wail away on a Hammond B3. Much to my alarm, I saw her seated on high, a mere speck in a choir robe, encircled by a monstrosity of an instrument complete with ginormous pipes that ran from floor to ceiling. The music was, to this young lad, somewhat sonorous and depressing. The congregation mumbled along with none of the Baptist zip to which I was accustomed. But the thing that I was totally unprepared for was the ear-shattering burst that took place when the organist put the petal all the way to the floor to signal the congregation that it was time for them to join in with the melody of doom. It nearly shot me out of my chair, this boisterous: organ-asm.

Potential sniglet combo: Spiritual + Stifle…I readily admit that I found church quite boring as a young boy. My eyes were forever casting about to find something interesting or amusing to get me through the service. Highly attuned to the little sinner that I was, I found myself parked snugly between my father and mother each Sunday. My mom always made certain she had her pearl ring turned upside down in order to whack my little butch-waxed head should I momentarily lose control. As I grew older and my parents released me to sit wherever I wanted in church, I found that the little boy in me remained. Because of my powers of observation, I had noticed that a person’s face, in the moment of some deep spiritual revelation, contorted in a way that was remarkably similar to a person attempting to stifle a laugh; i.e. tightly shut eyes, little tears trickling down the cheek, and bent over, shoulder-shaking convulsions. Thus, one Sunday, when in a “Selah” moment of the church service, an elderly gent released a rather garish discharge of gas, I was immediately able to employ the: spifle posture. I was spifling. Many were impressed at the sincerity – and the frequency - of my deep spiritual contortions and thought that I was surely destined for ministry.

Potential sniglet combo: Hippopotamus + Hypocrite…And, I was frequently reminded of those things I should not be doing, thinking, or thinking about doing. It was a lot to remember. In fact, I spent a great portion of my life trying so hard not to do things, I forgot to DO things. Many of the sermons on self-control were delivered by gents who apparently felt that gluttony was sacrosanct to the issue at hand. As they maneuvered their colossal bellies around the pulpit and shouted at the elect to knock it off, I could think of but one word: hippotocrite.

Potential sniglet combo: Prayer + Snooze…Returning for a moment to my incredible powers of observation, this one has come in quite handy over the years. But, alas, it has been a sword that has sliced both ways. During a church service, thoughtful, meditative prayer is always an accepted option. But, it is amazing how quickly prayer can degenerate into a selfish nap. I must admit, I have enjoyed a few refreshing moments myself with the pleasant “white noise” of a dull sermon humming in the background. I have, however, not been so pleased when I have been the speaker and have caught a congregant in the act of: proozing.

Potential sniglet combo: Deacon + Terminator…In the church in which I grew up, the fellowship hall was located in the basement directly under the sanctuary. The flooring of our sanctuary was a hard-wood floor. When I was about eight years old, a friend of mine and I escaped from the church potluck and wandered off to explore the rest of the building – to see what it looked like and felt like without big people around. We went up to the second story and rifled around a bit. We investigated the Pastor’s office. Finally, bored – again- we decided on a game of tag and began tearing around the sanctuary in our little hard-heeled church shoes. The wooden pews, we found, offered a great challenge as we leapt from pew to pew. The waxed wood floor provided a surface like that of an ice-skating rink. It was then that Deacon Grigg appeared. His face was a color similar to that of the purplish red beets which were the customary accoutrement to a Baptist feed. He was doing some heavy breathing from having sprinted up two flights of stairs. It was at that moment that my friend and I experienced the apocalyptic wrath of the: deaconator.

It has been an odd journey to be a churchman these many years; and, moreover, to be one who is so easily and so sophomorically amused. I was rebuked once by a man who I never once saw smile, let alone laugh, that I needed to be more sober – like him. I found the prospect dreadful. I was trying earnestly NOT to be like him. Yet, there have been times when I have prayed with great urgency and fervency that God would help me to hold it together – whether preaching or listening. So far, that prayer remains unanswered. The human condition – mine included – is a never-ending source for material that moves at light speed from observed act to funny bone – with nothing in between. I was born without a buffer. I blame both my parents. They remain in their golden years notorious inappropriate laughers.

Yet, even as I have chuckled and laughed my way through life, it has not been without its costs. I have a permanent callous on the inside of my right lower lip where I have bit down hard while in the act of spifling – hoping that the pain would somehow tame the mirth. It did not. It has not. And, I would not be surprised to find that I may have sacrificed a few blood vessels in my brain, and destroyed a few synapses trying to hold in an incautious and ill-timed guffaw. The pressure of restrained laughter really does hurt. It should be discouraged.

No…I recommend laughing and asking for forgiveness later. Laughter heals us. It is a gift from God. It helps us not to take ourselves all that seriously. That is a good thing. Self-deprecating humor is close kin to humility and God says that we need that to both love Him and to move His hand on our behalf. He is not interested in the proud, and by extension – the humorless.


Be well blessed…
-CJ

Cultural Conditioners & The Etymology Of Conservatism

Election Day + One, 2008
By CJ Alderton

Note: I take a break from writing about humor in order to do a sort of self-exorcism in regard to politics and the season we each have just endured. I am so looking forward to hearing once more about the virtues of Viagra, Preparation H and local car commercials. Anything - ANYTHING besides one more universe ending, back-stabbing political drone. Bear with me this brief rant. This should hold me for about 48 months. I hope to be funny again soon. :) Here we go...

_______

I have said little during this overheated, hyperbolic political season regarding my views -save to family and a few friends. There is a natural bias against encouraging the clergy to become too politically engaged. Add to that bias my own advanced talent in regard to conflict avoidance, and you have the perfect ingredients for what appears an apathetic sideliner. I am anything but…What follows is my reflective apercu at some sort of resolution regarding the seismic shifts that have occurred in the last few months. This is also my own humble plea for a return to conservatism – rightly defined. Let’s begin there… (If you consider yourself more liberal in your persuasions, please don’t abandon my project just yet. I believe that we may be “good friends well met” before we’re finished).

The etymology of the word conservatism is found in its verbal root: “to conserve.” The dictionary definition says this: “the disposition to retain what is established and to practice a policy of gradualism rather than abrupt change.” A true conservative conserves that which is good and elemental in a society, in a family, a church, a business or even a baseball team. And, a true conservative understands that any change carries the risk of unseen consequences; thus, it is wise to move toward change in a thoughtful and measured fashion. Because of the advanced pace of change in the past few decades, the late William F. Buckley, that erudite conservative voice for over a half century, described his task as standing astride culture and yelling, “Stop.” This conservative sensibility is not, nor should it be the exclusive domain of either the Republicans or the Democrats. To the extent that one is comfortable with the etymology of the word conservative, a “liberal” could be called a conservative. (A good read of history proves this to be true. In some countries, liberal actually means conservative).

Operational definitions are important. That is why we should leave the definitions of words in the hands of those who give us our dictionaries. Unfortunately, the word “conservative” has picked up a few barnacles the past few years, losing - as has so many words - its original meaning. It has come to signify: mean-spirited; selfish; greedy; bigoted and far-right. By its etymology, it is not that.

On a practical note, most of us live out the day to day affairs of life as conservatives. Conservatism in our daily lives means that we are pursuing a kind of peaceful & predictable equilibrium. There are things in life – many things - that we like to have “stay put.” We like them the way we are. We work hard; we pay our bills, fix up our house and mess around in our yards so that we can establish a place that is comfortable and predictable. We frequent a certain coffee shop or restaurant – not because of its novelty – but because of its predictability. If someone were to drive around and do donuts in our yard and re-arrange our house – and if our coffee shop began serving watered down drinks – we would be upset. Why? Because something peaceful and predictable – something that works – has been disturbed. That is conservatism.

So, let’s return to the definition of the word conservative for a moment: “the disposition to retain what is established and to practice a policy of gradualism rather than abrupt change.” Please note the last word of the definition – the word, “change.” That little word has been the catchphrase of one side of the political combatants this political season. It has been, to a lesser degree, employed by the other side as well.

When our founding fathers gathered to do their own version of blogging, viz. diaries, and books, The Constitution and such – they were doing so with a very cosmopolitan world view as a backdrop. They were men who had witnessed the devastation and tyranny of a government system that had become incredibly domineering. These were men of letters. Many were fluent in several languages. Nearly all were entrepreneurial in character. As they formed up their new union they tried their very best to codify a system of government that would safeguard liberties which would allow future citizens to advance in life as far as their own talents and energies allowed them. Their understanding of a good government was one which preserved the right to follow after life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness with as few restrictions as possible.

It was the over-reach of the British government that helped foment the rebellion. There were simply too many rules, too many demands, and too many affronts to personal liberties that oppressed the human spirit. In addition, our founders became highly suspicious of a government that would try to curry favor from the people by promising to do for them those things they were capable of doing for themselves. They feared, as they wrote our founding documents, that there would come a day when the people of the United States would, one by one, weaken and surrender their liberties in exchange for more government solutions and hand-outs. In a prophetic look down the road, Thomas Jefferson expressed these fears by saying :

“Nor should [a legislative body] be deluded by the integrity of their own purposes and conclude that… unlimited powers will never be abused because [they] themselves are not disposed to abuse them. They should look forward to a time, and that not a distant one, when corruption in this, as in the country from which we derive our origin, will have seized the heads of government and be spread by them through the body of the people, when they will purchase the voices of the people and make them pay the price. Human nature is the same on every side of the Atlantic, and will be alike influenced by the same causes.” - Thomas Jefferson: Notes on Virginia Q.XIII, 1782. ME 2:164

Our nation has grown to almost three hundred million people. Yet, much of our lives are determined by the few hundred people who make up the legislative, judicial, and executive branches of government. As a nation, we have gone the way of other failed cultures by asking for more and more government involvement in our lives – just as Jefferson had feared. There is a predictable result to all of this: The more government we ask for, the more we are governed.

Pick any issue that you can think of and I can guarantee that there is a warehouse full of career bureaucrats wheedling away at policies who will eagerly rush in to: constrict, restrict, plan, fine, complicate, hinder, disallow, and tax that enterprise. Government, i.e., governing others, is a tumor that can only grow. It knows no other function. This governmental creep has often been compared to a pig. But perhaps a better analogy is a sheep. A sheep has no natural mechanism for signaling to its brain that it is full. It will literally eat itself to death. To save the sheep, the farmer has to “stick” it by cutting open its belly and pulling out the fermenting gorge. (Although somewhat tempted, I will not chase that analogy any further).

I have no political home these days because both parties have proven themselves ravenous sheep. Granted, one sheep seems to be further skilled in its gluttony – but that is merely a matter of degree – not intent. Both of their compasses are pointed at the “all you can eat” buffet. Why do I say this? -Because this political gluttony is endemic to both Republicans and Democrats. Each side promises those things which will perpetuate until death political careers. And we, the people, continue to leave the gate open for our particular favorite sheep.

Let me speak plainly. The old maxim: “All politics are local” underscores this point. We might loathe a political hack such as Republican Senator Ted Stevens who, while convicted of seven felonies, brazenly chose to defend his long-held seat in the senate. Or, we may de-cry the boorish behavior of Senate Majority Leader, Democrat Harry Reid, who has lined his pockets with favorable land deals but has managed to avoid any investigations because of the power he wields. Yet, there is little we can do about them unless we happen to live in their state. And they, skilled at bringing home to their own constituency a few pieces of political pork, continue to get re-elected, ad infinitum. We who have asked for our little piece of the pork find ourselves incrementally more dependent on and obligated to our pet sheep. We despise another state’s sheep. Another state hates our sheep. Because we are not able to vote out another’s sheep (which would be a grand idea!) we become more and more governed. Now and then the electorate rises up to vote in a President who plays the conservative card to remedy this frustration – but the conservatives elected to the highest office invariably turn out to be poorly named.

What is distressing about the past few months is that the checks and balances meant to impede government overreach have been blurred beyond distinction. A supposedly conservative President Bush has, on his watch, brought the country to a place where nationalization of our economic sectors is not only seen as necessary, but good. In the past, when a tin-pot dictator in another country has nationalized his countries energy supplies and infrastructure – and in so doing has booted out American companies who had made massive capital investments – both Republicans and Democrats have decried such actions with great alacrity. Hugo Chavez of Venezuela is the most recent example. To have heard Democratic Senator Chuck Schumer – a dependable Bush-basher - defend President Bush a couple of years ago against the rants of Chavez was refreshing…and rare.

But here we are: a nation of failed banks, strapped hedge funds, and tightened credit markets - a stock market that has shed trillions of dollars of people’s retirements - and what we are promised is more government. The very people who led us into this swamp are now asking us to trust them again. And congress, right on cue, reacted in a predictable fashion to the 700 billion dollar bailout plan. With all of that money in play the sheep lined up for the buffet. At one point there were 2000 proposed earmarks attached to the bailout. An earmark is a barnacle that is added to a piece of legislation by a local politician that…brings home money…to his or her constituents…so that he or she can get re-elected…and; ad. inf., ad naus.

The most disquieting thing about this election is that we have had presidential candidates promising to act like congress, i.e., to act like sheep. Both candidates promised more government help and more government solutions. This isn’t change. It is the old buffet system on steroids. One of the reasons that only two Senators had ever been elected President in our nation’s history was the wise understanding within the electorate that these Senators were too accustomed to standing in line at the buffet table. With the Senatorial halls being peopled with folks who had little experience or appreciation of restraint, the good judgment of the American people leaned more toward governors. Governors, it was thought, had at least some skill at operating a brake pedal. We have had no such choice in this election. Senators we have been given.

Moreover, neither has owned a business or have had to worry about making a payroll. And, I am sure neither of them has read the 18th Century classic by Adam Smith, The Wealth of Nations. Had they done so, they would understand that prosperity flows from liberty and that liberty produces liberality, i.e. more jobs for more people. Government cannot create jobs that produce. Government can only create tax-supported bureaucracies that consume. But, government can play an important role by getting out of the way. The current electorate seems anxious for just the opposite. I was watching the news the other night and heard a supporter of President-elect Obama say this: “When Barak is elected, I won’t have to worry about putting gas in my car or paying my mortgage. If I help him, he is going to help me.” Oh really? She has inadvertently stated the quid pro quo - perfectly.

As I mentioned earlier – I am done with political parties. If I could bring back the Whigs, I would do so. They believed in the genius and energy of the common person to solve his or her own problems and to create wealth for all by hard work and ingenuity. They were resistant to a large, intrusive government that would propose to dictate every facet of life and to involve itself in every challenge. That is a foreign idea in our present political climate to both the elected and the electorate. Professional politicians have a vested interest in sustained dependence. As that dependence grows, the political machinery can mold the willing recipients of the bread-crumbs thus cast into whatever they wish.

C.S Lewis foresaw this in his remarkable series of lectures to a somewhat hostile audience in England, and later published in the book: The Abolition of Man. Few people have read that book these days – even Christians. They find it too difficult. (A more humorous version of these thoughts is found in Lewis’ work: That Hideous Strength). That is a shame because in it, Lewis presciently describes our current situation with these words:

“But the mind-molders of the new age will be armed with the powers of an omnicompetent state and an irresistible technique: we shall get at last a race of conditioners who can cut all posterity in what shape they please. "

–CS Lewis The Abolition of Man

Have we crossed into that moment in history where we are now unwitting subjects to the cultural conditioners? I would say yes. As the political parties dole back to us a fraction of the money and sweat they take from us – those political gifts will come with conditions – the quid pro quo will be enacted. Nothing will be off limits to the future corrosion of liberties – food, drink, transportation, industries, allowable speech, values, morals, risks, income – all will be moved in a direction to please the faceless, hum-drum cultural conditioners who work their craft in and through elected officials. Thomas Jefferson warned against this as well…

[A very capital defect in a constitution is when] all the powers of government, legislative, executive and judiciary result [go] to the legislative body. The concentrating these in the same hands is precisely the definition of despotic government. It will be no alleviation [relief] that these powers will be exercised by a plurality of hands, and not by a single one. One hundred and seventy-three despots [congress] would surely be as oppressive as one. - Thomas Jefferson: Note on Virginia Q.XIII, 1782. ME 2:162

If you sense a strong libertarian streak in what I am saying, you might be right. Be that as it may, my appeal for true change in the form of smaller government along with neutered and spayed politicians has a recent historical precursor in my beloved Ireland. Having for centuries been the impoverished step-sister of Europe and Great Britain, a few years ago the Celts decided to try something different. They decided to abolish the practice of taxing individuals and corporations in a confiscatory way and to reduce their nanny state chain of rules and procedures to a minimum. In addition, they decided to invest in education in such a way that it moved their young people toward marketable, high-tech skills. Businesses flocked to Ireland. The result has become one of the greatest stories of financial prosperity in the history of Europe. It is known as the “Celtic Tiger” and has moved the Republic of Ireland to the top of the heap. It is a model for what could happen here if the people – you and me – actually rose up and demanded less.

So there – I have given you my political rant – unasked for and perhaps unwelcome. I realize that I run the risk of being pigeon-holed within the ranks of those old men who sit around in their tweeds, sipping brandy, smoking their pipes and saying: “Harrrumph, Harrrumph.” To this accusation I would cheerfully reply: “Hear, Hear.”

Be well blessed…
-CJ

P.S. My treat – other great political quotes for you to enjoy…

“If you don’t read the newspaper you are uninformed; if you do read the newspaper you are misinformed.” - Mark Twain

“I contend that for a nation to try to tax itself into prosperity is like a man standing in a bucket and trying to lift himself up by the handle.” - Winston Churchill

“A government which robs Peter to pay Paul can always depend on the support of Paul.”

- George Bernard Shaw

“A liberal is someone who feels a great debt to his fellow man, which debt he proposes to pay off with your money.” - G. Gordon Liddy

“Democracy must be something more than two wolves and a sheep voting on what to have for dinner.” - James Bovard, Civil Libertarian (1994)

“Foreign aid might be defined as a transfer of money from poor people in rich countries to rich people in poor countries.” - Douglas Casey, (Classmate of Bill Clinton at Georgetown University)

“Government is the great fiction, through which everybody endeavors to live at the expense of everybody else.” - Frederic Bastiat, French Economist (1801-1850)

“If you think health care is expensive now, wait until you see what it costs when it’s free!”
- P.J. O’Rourke

“In general, the art of government consists of taking as much money as possible from one party of the citizens to give to the other.” - Voltaire (1764)

“Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all those other forms that have been tried.” -Winston Churchill

“The statesman [politician] who should attempt to direct private people in what matter they employ their capital would…assume an authority which could safely be trusted to no single person, to no council or senate whatever, and which would nowhere be so dangerous as in the hands of a man who had folly and presumption enough to exercise it…To prohibit great people from making all that they can of every part of their own produce…in the way that they judge most advantageous to themselves, is a manifest violation of the most sacred rights of mankind…” –Adam Smith

“We the people are the rightful masters of both Congress and the courts, not to overthrow the
Constitution, but to overthrow the men who pervert the Constitution.” - Abraham Lincoln

Humor Me, Part 2

In Matthew 24:12, Jesus looks into the future and makes this prophetic observation: “Because lawlessness (evil) will be multiplied, the love of many will grow cold.” It appears an odd pairing. Lawlessness is always in need of love. It would seem that the more there is of evil, the more opportunities there are for love; thus, more love in the world. That is simple, linear math.

Jesus says just the opposite. The more that lawlessness increases in the world the more it wears down and eventually wears out love. Lawlessness becomes a 360 enclosure that snuffs and suffocates. What He is almost saying is that evil will triumph over love. Darth Vader will be Lord of the Universe. The “Overman” from the novel, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, by Friedrich Nietzsche, will finally triumph. It is sobering. It is an uncharacteristically defeatist statement from the lips of the One whose stated purpose was to come save the world.

The next statement by Jesus does little to improve the dismal mood: “But the one who endures to the end will be delivered.” Because Jesus has already marked out the diminishing supply of love in the previous verse, we can only assume that the chief characteristic of those who endure to the end are those who still manage to practice love – in spite of whatever manner of evil they happen to encounter.

So let’s dial it forward. Do we live in evil and lawless times? Yes. Are the present evil/lawless times more pronounced than other times in history? It is hard to say. But what we can all agree upon is that, in our day, we are exposed to an exponential amount of evil/lawlessness every time we sit in front of a blinking cursor. The age of information – the ability to see almost every part of our world in real time – exposes us to massive doses of “the lesser angels” of this world each second. It is, in Jesus’ words, “An increase in lawlessness.” And it does put a strain on our ability to love. At least it does mine.

Let’s talk politics for just a moment. I am not out to parse any particular political philosophy for its endemic wickedness. For the record, I am weary of them all. (Has my love grown cold)? I just wish to raise this question: Have you noticed how angry everyone seems to be? Objective truths about how we arrived at our current financial crisis are thrown into the ditch because objectivity is not a useful tool. The tools that are wielded - which have a more immediate sound-bite advantage than the droll recitation of facts - are: histrionics, hyperbole, and outright whoppers of lies. For all practical purposes we function under a two-party system, with the Green Party, the Libertarian Party, and the Communist Party being statistical non-entities. Because we “practically” have only the two choices, most of us lean slightly or lean hard one way or another. But what does a good Republican make of the fact that our government's reach and debt has grown more under a Republican administration than all of the New Dealers combined? And what does an honest Democrat make of the fact that “the facts” surrounding the subprime mortgage crisis was due to Democratic leadership being cozied up to and benefitting from major Wall Street fat-cats? (Even Saturday Night Live pointed out this anomaly in their skit entitled Fannie/Freddie – much to the chagrin of George Soros). Everyone lies. And it seems everyone lies about lying. And, the world’s economy is going down in flames while everyone tells more lies. Lawlessness is indeed increased – and on a global scale. Bank accounts are not the only thing being drained; so too our deposits of love.

I have only mentioned politics. I could wax on and on about other manifestations of evil: terrorism; mass starvation; blood diamonds; globalization; the resurgent Dallas Cowboys, McDonald’s “Gourmet” coffee – you name it. Each could produce a lifetime of wrathful rants. But, let’s move on…

Unless you’re dead or truly demented, you probably noticed a shift in my tone three sentences ago. In spelling out examples of increases in evil/lawlessness, I mentioned McDonalds “Gourmet” coffee and the resurgent Dallas Cowboys. Why? - To slow you down…to make you smile…to open a relief valve.

Humor is, I believe, a gift from God. And, I also believe that it is a handmaiden to love. Humor can be misused. Much that is purported to be humor on the Comedy Channel is little more than grown men acting out ribald, junior high, locker room refuse. It is a form of humor lower than the lowly pun. That, and bitter sarcasm are the preferred methods of comedic relief employed by popular culture. It is not uplifting, it is debasing.

No, what I am talking about is much different. The humor that God injects for the benefit of humanity and expressed through the human instrument is diffusive in nature. Through humor, God deconstructs tough circumstances and puts them into a kingdom perspective.

One day, Jesus was approached by a group of religious big-shots who were trying to get Jesus into trouble. Their question was well thought-out. “Is it lawful (for us Jews) to pay taxes to Caesar or not?” If He answered one way, it would bring down the wrath of the people who were beginning to follow His teaching. They despised the oppressive, occupational government. If He answered it another way, He would be found guilty of insurrection by the Roman occupiers. Either way, He was cooked. It was similar in kind to the old joke line asked to an innocent man by a clever divorce attorney: “So, are you still beating your wife?”

We are so used to reading this story that we miss the drama and the humor. Jesus asks for a coin. They bring Him a Roman issued denarius. He looks at the coin and says: “Hmmm…uh…nice…So, whose picture is on this coin? “ The big-shots answer. Jesus responds, “Well I guess it belongs to this guy then. If he wants it back, I guess he can have it. Oh, and by the way – whose image is stamped on you?” “Rumble, rumble…we are made in God’s image!’” “Alrighty then – God wants what is His – so give it to Him.” Beautiful.

The kingdom of which Jesus spoke is a kingdom of light. Light is not only a contrast to darkness, light is a contrast to heaviness. If something is light it is neither dark nor heavy. As kingdom people, our hearts should be light. Our hope is not in the kingdoms of this world. As they have been, so shall they always be; vis a vis, a major disappointment. Our call is higher, holier, and to be honest – more fun – to bring “to light” and "to the light" the heaviness of our day.

Humor Me, Part 1

C.J’s Journal...Wednesday, September 24, 2008, "Somewhere in my yard..."

The daily report...So, after locking my keys in my office and having to track down a spare set of keys from my assistant - I was beat. I had been working pretty much since 5 a.m. that morning. I was now debating whether to go to the grocery store and grab some stuff for the weekly Patrick Crossing meal or just go home and crash. I finally decided that I would just do it and get it over with. So, I bought the groceries for Patrick Crossing along with some nice, fresh chicken for the grill to cook up for the family that night.

When I got home, I noticed fresh mole hills all over my yard. I groaned. I have a mutant version of moles. They thrive on poison, fire, flooding, ammonia and smoke bombs. Recently, I had purchased several boxes of the little smoke bombs that you light and drop down into the holes. Excited the next morning to see whether or not this newest tactic had worked, I strolled down the yard to the place of the worst infestation. I was chagrined not only to see a fresh pile of dirt, but one of the smoke bombs pushed to the top of the hill and perched like a birthday candle. It was like they were hoisting their thin, wispy limbs and giving me the paw. They are like Pharaoh of the Old Testament. No matter what plague I throw at them, they continue to harden their hearts. I have stood in my yard when no one was around (after dark) and in my best Charlton Hesston voice have solemnly cried out, "Let my yard goooooo."

They are now moving from spot to spot. It seems that I am herding them. I long to whack these blind, buck-toothed demons over the head – like that old arcade game – but these cowards refuse to pop their heads up as I greedily stand above their holes with my 9 iron. I am now trying the smoke bombs along with something called, "Uncle Ian's Mole Repellent." (Ingredients: 89% dried blood - no joke). I discovered something about smoke bombs. They actually explode. But I am getting ahead of myself. Before I went out on my nightly mole reconnaissance, I lit the grill and threw the chicken on....

Back to the moles.......So, I am bent over a hole trying a new technique - light two bombs at the same time and drop them in different holes - kind of a Nazi panzer/pincer strategy. The first bomb goes down nicely. I quickly drop the second bomb and it gets stuck. A cloud of toxic smoke is now swirling about my head. I shove real hard on the non-business end of the eight inch incendiary device and... "boom!" The mole bomb blows up in my hand. I am now missing all of the hair on my right forefinger and black scorch marks are trailing up my arm.

But now.....what's that? I smell smoke - an odd smelling smoke - and hear a commotion in the house. I trot back in to wash off the putrid smell of burnt flesh and finger hair stubble and see my family all closing windows and chatting about the smoke. ("Boy that is some smoke. That is really smoky smoke...Smoke, Smoke, Smoke, Smoke...bad smoke.") No one has checked the grill because they think I am outside attending it. I grumble and fly past them to go see about the smoke. As I round the corner, I see flames shooting up the side of my house - three of the logs on my freshly stained log house are seriously blackened and smoking. There is also a dangling, dripping melted cable from my satellite dish - completely fried. I dive in under the flames, grab the grill and pull it away from the house, torching up my fingers, all the while yelling for water.

For whatever inexplicable, boneheaded reason, I decide that I need to check on the chicken. I grab the handle, scream in pain, and am greeted by the fires of hell thirstily switching directions toward this massive new inflow of fresh air. More hair is singed off. Sadly - when the flames die down - I see what appear to be 10 charcoal briquettes resting on the grill. A few minutes ago these were fresh chicken thighs with great potential - now, nothing but charred remains of a once well-intentioned meal.

Martin Luther, he of Protestant fame, spoke often about laughter in the midst of the annoying and painful trials of life. He said this: “The best way to drive out the devil, if he will not yield to the texts of Scripture, is to jeer and flout him, for he cannot bear scorn.” His thought was that laughter is a form of spiritual warfare - that it brings great disappointment and even discouragement to the forces of hell. I like that thought...

Some people - a lot of people - are way too serious and, take themselves too seriously. That seriousness becomes a relational repellent. But beyond that, those who walk through life by taking themselves and the various trials of life way too seriously are – to put it bluntly – liars. They are people who see a molehill and tell you it is a mountain...

(We will be hanging around the subject of humor for awhile...See you soon.)

Becoming A Self-Centered Christian, Part 3

There is a lonely and silent aspect to the Christian life that many find unbearable. Jesus calls us aside and beckons us to a quiet place in order to speak to us, to heal us and to give us clear direction. The silence is deafening. We prefer action, movement and cacophony. It is the world in which we live. In a song written several years ago, Randy Stonehill caught up to our sickness with these words: “It’s the fear of silence that gives us away. ‘Cause when we’re alone, we have to hear, what our aching heart’s trying to say.”

There is a pride attached to busyness. To be burned out and bone-tired is a badge of honor. There are not many who like to answer the question: “So what have you been up to?“ with: “I have been working on slowing down, relaxing and being quiet before the Lord.” There is no “snap” to such a reply. Rather, we much prefer to share a litany of suspect accomplishments in order to secure our place in the “world of worth” based upon our exhaustion. If we are more exhausted than our neighbor, we win.

This game of one-upmanship has one other benefit – it creates space. If I can convince enough people that I am about to become unhinged because of my busyness, then, “They’ll leave me the hell alone.” Oftentimes, the distancing that takes place by our projected busyness includes our spouse, our children, and our friends. If we succeed, and are left “the hell alone” – that is usually what we get - hell…alone.

“Hell alone” is the wrong kind of quietness because it is not all that quiet. It is a cave with many voices echoing in disunity throughout our internal world. There is one voice that begins a conversation with: “Man, I wish I made more money and had a better job…” and before that sentence is even finished, another voice interrupts with: “I can’t believe how he/she treated me today…” and, before that thought is completed: “I hate the way I have let myself go…” and on, and on. All of the voices “appear” to be our own voice. I suspect however that the voices we hear as our own are borrowed from a more malevolent source. The Dark Lord, the master of confusion, has littered our mind with a world of anxious offenses and faithless ideas. He then, in a grand act of hellish ventriloquism, uses our voice to create his own inner playground of torment. We awake the next day – not so much as one who is alive - but as one who merely exists.

We are called to a better existence. It begins with a dose of what we have called Christian narcissism. If I am not caught up in “me”, I will be no good to Him – or anyone else. It seems strangely antithetical to all of what we have understood Christianity to be – populated with such themes as: love of others, self-sacrifice, and good works. The effort we are called to give seems to be “other” oriented. But here is the thing – the inner reserve for such selfless living is actually fueled by self-centered attentions.

Early in His public ministry, Jesus demonstrated what we have been discussing. In the Gospel of Mark, in one day, Jesus heals a man at the local synagogue in Capernaum, and then ends up at the home of Peter’s mother-in law. The poor lady is so ill she cannot even put some dinner out for Jesus and his disciples. That is a very embarrassing situation for a Mideast Jewish host. Jesus heals the woman and she immediately runs to the kitchen and, as Mark tells us, “…begins to serve them.” It took about a minute for the word to travel around the village. Before night fell, the yard was full of the moaning sick and the howling demonized. Jesus healed them all. And then what? He left the scene of busyness and success and we find these penetrating words from Mark: “Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, He got up, went out, and made His way to a lonely place, and there He prayed.” Mark 1:35. This moment of apparent “narcissism” didn’t sit well with the disciples. When they finally tracked Jesus down, they were all in a bother about the crowds that had already gathered at revival central, formally known as the in-law’s house. Jesus would have none of it. Neither the pleasure of perceived success, nor the pride of laborious busyness could detract Him from His mission. It was in the quiet place that He was given His direction for that day.

I close with a word about false humility. Real humility is a good thing. God tells us to humble ourselves so that we will be lifted up at the right time. [Just a side note: God doesn’t humble us – He tells us to humble ourselves. It is interesting to note that the method of demonstrating humility, of humbling ourselves, falls nicely into the category of Christian narcissism. According to the Epistle of Peter, we demonstrate humility by: “Casting all of our cares upon Him.” This is the lonely act, the selfish act. All of those cavernous echoing voices meet their match as we humbly cast our cares upon Him. See I Peter 5:6, 7] False humility is not real humility. False humility is characterized by a person who constantly belittles his or her own spiritual vitality or future spiritual prospects. Phrases such as: “I am still just a sinner saved by grace” is not so much a sign of humility as it is a flashing sign that announces: “Beware – I am still so enamored of my flesh that I can go off at any moment and behave as if…I am still a sinner.” While the phrase sounds spiritual – it is anything but. We can run up any number of things that is offensive to God: gossip; lust (boys will be boys); blue humor; unforgiveness; greed; covetousness; anger; etc. – so long as we end with the phrase: ““I am still just a sinner saved by grace.” It is the Protestant equivalent of priestly absolution. This phrase betrays a lack of lonely time spent with the Master where all such things are weakened and then vanquished – not justified. Only a purposeful narcissist will care enough to find that quiet place where all can, and will be, healed.

Do Axe-heads Still Float?

(Note: This post is an "Extra, Extra - Read All About It!" I will return to my series later this week).

In the Old Testament there is the story of a man named Elisha who was a student of a guy named Elijah. They were both prophets. Both of their lives were marked by supernatural events. Elisha - for those doing the math - experienced twice as many miracles in his life as did his mentor Elijah. The reason? He simply asked for it. As his mentor Elijah was about to be taken up into heaven in a fiery chariot, Elijah asked Elisha what he could do for him. Elisha responded with this simple request: "Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit." Elijah responded, "If you see me when I am taken away - then it shall be yours." Shortly after that exchange, the fiery chariot appeared and Elijah disappeared. All that was left was Elijah's mantle. Elisha then walked over to the river Jordan, struck the water with a stick and cried out: "Where is the God of Elijah?" At that, the waters parted and Elisha repeated in reverse order the last physical miracle of Elijah. It makes for compelling reading.

Something I have noticed about a few of the miracles recorded in the Bible is how ordinarily spectacular they are. What I mean by that is how some of the miracles are attached to very ordinary wants and needs. Yes, we read of real miracle working events that makes sense in the life of Jesus: a deaf man hears, a lame man walks, a blind eye is opened. These make sense. They are useful. They are prudent. But, when a miracle comes along that is totally gratuitous – where it seems as if God is just show-boating for the most modest, even selfish (?) of needs - I believe that we are being shown something of the Father's heart. Yes, Jesus healed a lot of people, but He also turned water into wine. Was that really a pressing need or was it just a want? Or, how about Jesus strolling across the Sea of Galilee? Was that really necessary or was it just...well...fun?

One of the miracles Elisha performed falls, from my perspective, into the gratuitous category. We have the story of a student of Elisha’s chopping some wood near the Jordan River when the axe-head flies off and plops into the water. The guy freaked out because the axe was borrowed. Many of us have known that horrible feeling. Returning a headless axe-handle would be rather embarrassing. I imagine coming by an axe-head back in that day and time involved more than just taking the chariot down to the local Home Depot. This may have been a community axe-head shipped in from Egypt. Elisha asked the man the approximate location of where the axe-head went in. The student showed him. Elisha then cut a stick and threw it in the general direction of the sunken axe-head; and, lo and behold, it floated to the top.

Hmmm...If I had a store of miracles to perform that were exactly twice that of Elijah, I would miser those suckers like the proverbial three wishes from the Genie. I would make sure they were used for noble, spiritual, unquestioned & donor-approved purposes. But that was not the case with Elisha. He just said, “Stand back. I’ll get it for you.” The next thing you know, there is the axe-head floating up to shore like Ivory Soap. Another miracle used up. Bummer.

The thing that I have been learning of the Father’s heart as of late is this very important truth: What concerns me, concerns Him. He loves me that much. The gratuitous nature of some of the miracles shout out to us that God cares about the wine at a party, cooling His son’s dusty feet by a stroll across a lake, and by causing axe-heads to float so a humble student of a prophet won’t have to suffer the humiliation of returning a useless tool back to its owner.

Please hear this – with God, anything is possible. Please hear this – God is not diminished in His ability or supply of miracles by doling out gratuitous displays of His kindness: His resources are endless. And, there is also this – these unwarranted acts of kindness enhance the fatherhood of God. Do we not, as earthly parents, sometimes give gifts to our children – just because? Sure we do. Why would our heavenly Father be any different? He loves us and is crazy about us.

So, with all this as background, let me share a brief testimony of one of those gratuitous miracles that just happened to me this morning. My son Josh and I spent a good part of the day doing something I do not really enjoy – working on cars. We had before us a brake job for my wife’s car which included pads and rotors. Josh’s car needed motor mounts replaced. (Thanks to our good friend James Lane, this latter one was accomplished with skills that go well beyond my meager mechanical abilities). Now, I would probably enjoy working on cars if I had all of the cool tools available to me that I see in repair shops. But no, I am the guy rolling around on hot cement with my Wal-Mart tools trying not to swear at helpless, inanimate objects.

As I manned up to the job of getting the calipers to loosen off of the rotors, I noticed that GMC had switched from SAE to metric. (Yay Detroit)! I groaned. My assortment of metric tools was just that – an assortment. I needed an 18mm socket. I walked over to my tool box and began rooting around. I found a 17mm and a 19mm. As I was standing there, tempted again to that swearing thing, Josh said he thought the 18mm might be under his car. Picture this scene. I was standing there with my ratchet with no socket on the end in one hand and a 17mm and 19mm in the other. Josh is looking at my forlorn countenance. I watch Josh dive under his car to look for the missing 18mm. I look back at my ratchet a second later and there is a socket on the end. I look at my hands – totally puzzled. Both the 17mm & the 19mm are still in my left hand, but another socket has appeared – appeared mind you – on the end of my ratchet! I squint to read the numbers on the side of the socket and it says: 18mm. Revival broke out in the garage.

Does God care for me so much, does He know how much I loathe auto repair, and does He love my wife so much that He wanted me to finish up this brake job with as little whining as possible? Evidently the answer to all of these questions is:”Yes”! I have to admit, I would rather show up tomorrow at the hospital and pull a Jesus by emptying out every bed with a miraculous healing, but maybe, just maybe, these little miracles lead us to the big ones. We have to stand before we can walk and we have to walk before we can run. Today, I tottered to my feet. Somewhere deep in my spirit I had said, “Where is the God of Elijah?” And God said, “Right here, with an 18mm in my hand.”

“Dear friends, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have confidence before God and receive from Him anything that we ask...” I John 3:21a