The Perfect Child

In honor of his 12th birthday, I'm posting a poem I wrote when Ethan was just a year old.

The Perfect Child
(Ethan's Song)

You were to be the seventh child, on you our God had smiled.
The omen of the number sev'n, you'd be the perfect child.

Then at your birth, all was not right, your life was nearly lost,
But for the perfect child God would, must save at any cost.

As time went by, 'twas evident, imperfect you would be.
I cried, "I do not understand! Please Lord, help me to see."

I prayed that God would make you whole, and glorify his name.
But from the perfect One on high, the answer quickly came.

"Son, look again, the six are flawed, perfect the number sev'n.
They all must die and be re-born, before they're fit for Heav'n."

Dear Ethan, you God to us gave, the path to help us see.
Lead us to God and teach us how to love Him perfectly.

What's On Your List

A friend of mine recently posted on Facebook a list of 100 well known books of which the BBC says most people will have read only 6.

If you do a search of "100 best books", you will find many such lists. Because these lists are subjective, they will likely share some of the same titles, but will not be identical.

After complaining to my friend that her list favored Jane Austen and Charles Dickens, and lacked some of my favorites, I realized that there is only one list of 100 books that is essential, and that is the one you build yourself. Everyone should have a list of at least 100 works of literature that they have read.

The National Endowment for the Arts recently released a survey showing that over the last six years, the percentage of adult Americans who read works of literature has increased by about four percent. According to the N-E-A, more than half of adults read fiction, poetry, or drama. While this may show a good trend, it still means that nearly half of American adults never pick up a book, read a poem, or enjoy a play.

These days our minds are occupied with Facebook, Twitter, movies and television, and video games. So why is it important to read? The problem with entertainment is that so much of it is passive, not requiring our minds to be engaged. When I watch a movie, I don't need to use my imagination to picture the scenes because that's already been done for me. I may have the impression that I am engaged, but the fact that I don't remember the movie I watched last week tells me I was only being amused.

A literary work, on the other hand, asks me to get involved, to use my imagination and exercise my memory. And it asks me to make judgments on what I've read.

Another benefit of reading is vocabulary building, which has been linked to intelligence. Think of it as growing your brain in order to hold more words. Exercising your mind, by reading or some other mental stimulation, has also proven to ward off dementia.

One advantage technology has brought us, is the availability of great literary works in digital form. When I purchased my iPad, I did not have this benefit in mind, but with iBooks (Kindle, etc.) I now carry an entire library of books wherever I go. Now, when I find myself standing in line, waiting on my doctor, or flying on a plane, I can open any book in my library and make good use of the time. And even more wonderful, many of the books that you will find on these "best books" lists are now in the public domain, and can be downloaded for free!

So if you don't already have a list of your own, use one of the "100 best books" list as a place to get started, or ask a friend for recommendations. The important thing is to get started. And if you've already got a list, keep expanding it.

Ray Bradbury's book, "Fahrenheit 451", tells of a time when books are outlawed and burned, and the only way books are kept alive is for an underground organization to "become" books by each member memorizing one. It's ironic that today, if all the books were burned, nearly half the population wouldn't miss them.

Remember, "The person who doesn't read good books has no advantage over the person who can't read them." - Mark Twain

Who are these people?

Leslie and I went to a symphonic concert at Bass Performance Hall (home of the Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra) for my birthday. The concert featured works from Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninoff and Ravel, culminating in Ravel's Bolero, a favorite of ours.

We enjoy going to these concerts to add a little refinement and culture to our lives, in an atmosphere where professional musicians combine with excellent acoustics to provide a truly wonderful experience.

Of course, the fact that the building is designed so that the most delicate note can be heard in the farthest reaches means that the patrons must maintain quietness to keep from spoiling the experience for others.

In spite of directions to this point, and the explicit instructions to silence cell phones, there is always someone who neglects to do this, and this concert was no exception.

To my astonishment, I heard cell phones ringing, and people coughing and talking. Worst of all was the woman sitting behind us who spoke loudly to her friend about what she was hearing.

I was thinking, "Who are these people who cannot follow simple directions in order to be considerate to other people?", especially at an event such as a symphony? Then my own cell phone began shouting it's answer to my question!

You see, when I set an alarm on my phone, it still sounds even when my phone is on "silent", and about 3/4 of the way through the concert, it reminded me that I needed to call my mother, something I want to be sure to do every week.

So, who are these people? They are people just like me, who intend to do well, but have moments when they fail. People who suffer embarrassment when, in spite of their efforts, come off looking like a buffoon in a very public setting. Furthermore, just like me, they are souls for whom Christ died.

The next time you are tempted to criticize someone for their behavior, remember that you, too, are one of those people. I know I will.

I know right where everything is!

"Don't touch anything on my desk, I know right where everything is!"

I don't know how many times I heard my dad make statements such as this when trying to explain to my mother that she shouldn't try to organize his desk.

As I sit at my desk, laptop nestled into a spot I cleared for it, writing this article, I'm convinced that this organizational method is hereditary.

My wife, through the years, has learned that cleaning up my desk (much like she cleans up my sons' room when she can no longer stand the disarray) is no favor to me, nor to her.

But today I'm turning over a new leaf. I'm admitting that my "organized chaos" is inefficient, and unproductive (which is harmful), and stems primarily from procrastination (which is also harmful). So today I'm going to sort, reduce, prioritize, label, assemble, file, and systematize everything on my desk and in my office. Then I will begin the process of changing my habits to prevent the chaos from returning.

I'm certain that once this project is completed, I will be much more efficient and productive (which is helpful).

Except for one thing. Right now I know where everything is. In fact, as I look over my desk, I see my dad. And as I consider my habits, I see him, too. What if in the process of organizing myself I lose him? Right now I know right where he is.

I think this project can wait a while longer. I miss you, Dad.

That You May Be Sons

Back in May I was caught speeding on my commute to work, and received a ticket.

There were extenuating circumstances: I had been driving in the HOV (High Occupancy Vehicle) lane for several miles, being tailgated by a silver SUV (the HOV lane there has barriers on either side, prohibiting passing). Though traffic was moving at 75 (10 MPH above the speed limit, but normal for that time of the morning), apparently the driver behind me thought I should go faster.

Those who know me, understand that there is no driving offense that can raise my blood pressure like being tailgated, so I was vexed.

As soon as the HOV lane ended, I started looking for a spot to move to the right, but there was none. In a fit of pique, I accelerated briefly (apparently to 82 MPH) to get into an opening and relieve my stress. To my dismay, that's when the officer's radar gun was trained on my vehicle.

Since the fine for going more than 15 MPH over the speed limit is considerably higher, and because I felt I was not completely at fault, I chose to go to court.

My day in court finally came September 1st, and, to "cut to the chase", I was given 90 days probation instead of a $225 fine and a ticket on my record. The fact that I had to pay $190 in court costs took a little luster off my "victory".

Where am I going with this? Well, this past week it happened again. Not to me, however, but to the tailgater. In the very same spot, I was being tailgated by a silver SUV (no, not the same one). Knowing I will pay dearly if I receive another citation within the next 90 days, I was only doing 70 this time (if you drive the speed limit, you're a hazard in the morning rush), and when I reached the end 0f the HOV lane, I waited to find an opening to the right, this time without much difficulty.

As the tailgater blew passed me, I remarked out loud, "Don't mess with the City of Allen.", but she ignored my warning. As if on cue, a police cruiser entered the highway from the shoulder, moved over behind her, and turned on his lights, all as I watched from "the front row". Retribution! Right?

I must admit that I had a certain feeling of gratification at first, but that was quickly replaced by guilt. I knew I should not rejoice in anothers calamity. "Do not gloat when your enemy falls; when he stumbles, do not let your heart rejoice", there it is in Proverbs 24:17.

I suppose it would be okay to feel a little pleasure in the fact that justice was triumphing, after all, she was guilty of a crime. However, to be consistent then, I would have had to have felt the same way when I got my ticket, and I did not.

So what is it in us that brings elation when an enemy falls? Her punishment (assuming she got a ticket also), will in no way reduce my own, so why should I feel better? Is it because misery loves company? If that's the real reason I feel better, than I am miserable indeed.

No, I believe it's that ungodly part of us, our flesh, that rejoices when another suffers, even if they "had it coming". When Jesus disciples asked him if they should call down fire from heaven to consume their adversaries, Jesus answered, "You don't know what spirit you are of." And as children of God, we cannot let that spirit have control.

"But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous." (Matthew 5:44,45)

This Spirit, the one that does good to enemy and friend, is the one that we want ruling us. He is the one who must be ruling us if we are to be sons (or daughters) of God.

Changing Your Perspective

As I begin typing, I can feel that the skin of my fingers is still wrinkled from the hot dishwater. Yes, I have dishpan hands. From washing dishes. All by myself!

As I began to wash them, I took in the view that I so seldom see. Standing in front of our stainless steel, double sink, a pile of dishes to my left, and an empty dish rack to my right, I gazed out the kitchen window at the falling rain. As if on cue, a black-chinned hummingbird alighted on the feeder, pausing long enough to allow me to examine it's iridescent colors. What a privilege to be standing at that place, at that moment.

As my hands worked with the bubbles to separate the dished from the yuck, I realized I was standing on a desk. No, not literally. I remembered the movie The Dead Poet's Society where professor John Keating takes his students through an exercise of standing on a desk to gain a new perspective on life. At that moment in time, to the best of my ability, I was seeing the world from my wife's perspective. For the first time in a long time, I was seeing what she sees on a daily basis.

I decided that I was going to make the best of this opportunity. As I worked, I decided to take in every sound, every smell, every sense of what she considers normal.

I could hear the children NOT doing their schoolwork. I dried my hands repeatedly to answer the phone and computer chats, and attend to the children's needs. And I perspired! The heat from the water caused me to soak my shirt every bit as much as I did yesterday while doing the "manly" task of rotating the tires on my car.

I also enjoyed the blessing of looking out on God's creation and hearing Him speak to me through it. I had time (probably twice as much as my wife usually does) to meditate and reflect on and sort through the thoughts of my heart.

And, perhaps the best blessing of all, my appreciation and love for my wife grew. What I was able to accomplish once (find gratification in doing a menial task out of love for another), she does on a daily basis, not only in the dishes, but in all the duties of making our home a home.

So much of our lives become routine, and when we fall into the rut of routine, our lives become ordinary. To prevent this, we must choose to alter our routine. To live extraordinary lives, we must purposely change our position in order to see things in a different light. What is revealed in doing so may startle us.

You may be wondering: Where was my wife while I was doing her job (I'll probably catch grief for that!)? She was visiting and blessing our daughter who had requested her company. And what did she do while she was there? She washed her dishes...while standing on a desk.

I also decided to watch The Dead Poet's Society again. What a wonderful film, with such a powerful message. Each of us has a voice, and we must find it before it is too late. But that's for another post.

Sown in Weakness, Raised in Power

I saw the signs, while zipping down my interstate, saying, "Construction Zone Ahead", but I was unaware of how rough the road was going to get, nor how long my journey might be delayed.

With the recent passing of my father and several friends during this short period of time, God has asked me to spend some time contemplating eternity, slowing me long enough to, allow the truth to settle deep into my heart.

This past week the time of sojourn for my friend, Barry Johnson, ended. Barry had fought hard to survive melanoma, but finally succumbed to his illness. Watching this battle from a distance, an important truth has become crystal clear.

With all illnesses (like cancer) that claim the life of their victims over time, the eventual death is often described as "losing the battle". And this is true. For those who conquer such a disease, there is a rightful feeling of victory. Also, for those whose battle ends in death, there is an appropriate sense of defeat.

But, as Barry's days on Earth drew to a close, God reminded me that his battle was not with the cancer. Indeed, though we try to hold off death as long as possible, none of us can expect to "win" this battle. We are all mortal, and therefore our bodies will all perish.

But the good news is: This is not the end! Barry, as his life here and the voice of many witnesses testify, HAS triumphed over cancer! And not cancer only, but over death itself. He is in a place where there is no more sickness, and is alive forever more. Barry's body was "sown in weakness", but has been "raised in power".

Whatever we may face in this life, "our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." There is only one victory - faith in Jesus Christ as the Son of God, and there is only one defeat - unbelief.

This is the truth that God has been teaching me these past months, and I am ready to resume my journey, whether the road be rough or smooth. Lord, "I do believe! Help me overcome my unbelief."


1 Corinthians 15:43
Ephesians 6:12
Mark 9:24