"I Just Snapped!"

"Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom." -- Viktor E. Frankl

We had quite a moment at our house a couple months back.

I don't recall exactly what was going on, but our then-19-month old son wanted to do or get something that just wasn't going to work at that moment, so the answer to his request was "No", or "Later", or something to that effect.

Unfortunately, little Jonathan wasn't at all pleased with this response, and let it show by falling to the floor and wailing to the heavens, in hopes that someone, somewhere would care enough to intervene on his behalf. This display didn't work as he hoped it would; in fact, it only cemented the "No" from his original request.

There's nothing out of the ordinary here. Every household with children has been blessed with scenes just like this one.

But, to the close observer, there was something highly instructive to be found in one slight detail of Jonathan's tantrum.

At the precise moment Jonathan received the bad news that buckled his knees, he and I were standing on the hard tile floor of our home's entryway, but only a foot or two away from the nice, soft carpet of the living room.

Looking at the replay in slow motion: When Jonathan took the "No" response, and "lost" control, he bent forward at the waist to begin his "uncontrolled" freefall. Just before crossing the point of no return, he paused, took a full step to his right to position himself within range of the carpet, and then resumed his fall, landing safely away from the tile, where his fit could continue, injury-free.

I'm not sure what my familiarity with this maneuver says about me, but I did recognize it right away:

*Making a statement, but making sure it won't hurt.

*Carefully controlling the "loss" of control.

*Trying to have it both ways.

In Galatians 5:19-21, Paul lists several behaviors that characterize the lifestyle of those living according to the flesh rather than the Spirit. Listed among these sins are "outbursts of wrath", or "fits of rage". While Paul's list includes many items that most of us would know only in the abstract, such as murder, witchcraft, and orgies, his mention of uncontrolled anger hits a lot of us pretty close to home.

And, as common as this problem is, there is an excuse for it that is every bit as prevalent: "I don't know what happened. I just snapped!"

Without judging the sincerity of anyone's apology, there lies within this statement an attempt to refuse responsibility for one's actions. If I did indeed just "snap", then I didn't really choose to do whatever it was I did. And, while I can then be sorry that it happened, or sorry for how someone took it, it's not really the same as saying, yes, I did it, I chose to do it, I was wrong, and I'm sorry. The difference is subtle, and many don't even perceive it. But, it's an important difference.

It's so easy to claim a loss of control. So easy to say, "I just snapped!"

But, really, now. Come on.

Have you ever...

*Cursed at your boss?

*Yelled at your spouse in a crowded restaurant?

*Berated your child in front of his teacher?

*Thrown a fit in your front yard?

*Peeled out of your own driveway?

*Knocked over a grocery basket on your way out of the store?

I'm guessing you answered "No" to all these questions, and either laughed at them, or found them offensive. And, why wouldn't you ever do these things, besides the fact that they're just wrong? Because you know full well that doing so would be very risky for you. You would probably get hurt. There would be painful consequences that you would very much like to avoid.

So, somehow, some way, even in the face of serious provocation, we all dig down deep and find the patience and self-control needed to avoid these risky behaviors. Somehow, with this much at stake, we manage never to "snap".

But, then, there are other times, when the immediate risk doesn't seem so great. Times when our sense of entitlement outweighs our good judgment and our love:

*An athlete, coach, or fan disagrees with an official's call.

*One driver doesn't like the actions of another.

*A wife hears the beginning of the same old excuse from her husband.

*A husband hears the beginning of the same old criticism from his wife.

*A child hears the beginning of the same old correction from a parent.

*A parent hears the beginning of the same old nonsense from a child.

*The TV remote has vanished.

*Someone forgot to buy more sodas.

*The toilet seat was left in the wrong position again.

And, there are yet other times when we bottle up our anger in public, only to shake the bottle and pop the cork once safely behind the closed doors of home, not unlike little Jonathan carefully targeting the safest place to fall while "helplessly" losing control.

Is this really the best we can do?

That's actually the wrong question. The question should be: "Is this the conduct of people who have the Spirit of God in them?"

Paul, in the same passage in Galatians, describes the result of being Spirit-filled. He uses the analogy of fruit that grows by the power of God. The fruit, or result, of being filled with His Spirit will take many forms, including patience and self-control, the very opposite of the fits of rage so common to the sinful nature.

A person who would truly "snap" and act without control would do so in any situation, regardless of the risk.

People like that do exist, but it's not likely that you're one of them.

Falling Down

Who hasn't joked about the infamous TV commercial: "I've fallen, and I can't get up!"?

Of course, falling down is no laughing matter; not when it's for real, and someone is hurt.

Who hasn't cringed at a story of an elderly person breaking a hip in a random fall? Or, a story of someone who suffers an incapacitating fall, and isn't found for hours or days? For that matter, who hasn't dreaded the thought of dying in a fall from a great height?

This article details the reality of how devastating a fall can be, especially for the elderly.

Two quotes from the article are especially relevant:

"Falls Merit Complex Care" (from the headline)

It's not likely anyone would fail to appreciate the need for care and rehabilitation for someone who has fallen, either physically or spiritually. But, do we really understand what "complex care" entails? Not likely, until the need for it arises. The difficult, ongoing therapy described in the article is likely to be news to anyone who hasn't been through it, or had a loved one go through it. Healing the wounds of a physical fall involves a great deal more than a bandage and an aspirin. And, the injuries suffered in a fall often go deeper and spread wider than anyone would have thought.

So it is with a spiritual fall as well.

When a Christian falls into sin, the effects can be just as far-reaching, and the healing and restoration that are needed require more time and attention than can be given in a brief conversation at the end of a sermon. Are we prepared to give the time and attention it takes to provide loving accountability to one another in our daily lives? Are we willing to help a struggling Christian overcome sin Monday through Saturday?

The second quote is even more critical, perhaps even haunting:

"For some people...admitting that they fall is tantamount to admitting that they are no longer competent to take care of themselves."

We've all heard sad stories of elderly people struggling to come to terms with their need for assistance. My wife and I know an aging farmer who we learned had suffered repeated falls out on his land, each time warning his farm hands not to breathe a word of it to his wife. Finally, thankfully, one of them did.

How true is this of most of us?

Admitting we fall means admitting we're not self-sufficient.

But, we all know we're not self-sufficient, right? Who would ever claim to be? We're not even supposed to be!

Maybe it's fear of being an imposition. Or, embarrassment over what exactly we've fallen into. Maybe too much of our identity wrapped up in an image of having it "together". Or, an unwillingness to jeopardize our social standing.

Whatever the reason, a Christian who falls into sin and keeps the matter quiet has handed Satan a double victory.

Falling down doesn't have to result in death.

But, how often do we allow it to?

"Looks like you've been shot a few times there..."

Kristi and I were watching one of those "ER" reality shows, where a TV camera crew follows a doctor around.

One patient who visited the ER left a memorable impression.

He was an elderly man complaining of lingering pain in his collarbone area. He had fallen a week or so before, but had not sought medical attention, thinking the pain would just go away. It hadn't, so the man wondered whether he had broken his collarbone.

The doctor felt the area and seemed fairly certain the collarbone was either broken or dislocated, but wanted to see an x-ray to determine for sure what to do.

When he asked the patient about any past medical issues, the only item offered was a stroke some years back.

This answer in particular provided a moment of shock and off-beat comedy when the doctor actually viewed the x-ray. Clearly visible on the x-ray were four distinct, completely intact bullets lodged in various places within this poor man's body.

At some risk of appearing insensitive, the doctor chuckled at this unexpected sight. "Well, I asked if there were any past medical issues, so I guess he didn't think this was any big deal. In all fairness, I didn't ask him specifically whether he had ever been shot four times..."

No explanation was given as to the nature of these wounds, or even how old they were. What is certain is how fortunate this man was to be alive, having sustained such trauma to his body, and apparently without sufficient medical treatment.

It's interesting how this can happen. Something that appears so out of place to an outsider or a newcomer can be just another forgotten part of the landscape to the person who has learned to accommodate it for enough time.

How on earth could a person carry bullets lodged in his body for years, and not bother to mention it to a doctor before an x-ray?

Oh, I don't know...

How could a Christian rarely pray?

How could a Bible gather dust?

How could someone bear a grudge for a lifetime?

How could a married couple live together without intimacy for years on end?

How could a habit become more important than a family?

How could a once-vibrant faith become a time card?

These scenarios are every bit as real as the bullets in that old man's body. And, they are certainly much more common. To anyone on the outside looking in, the bullet is plain to see, glaring back boldly from the x-ray, even if the wounded soul has made peace with it, or has forgotten its presence altogether.

What wounds do you carry?

What bullets are still lodged in your soul?

Why carry these things, when Jesus is so near?

Shifting Sands, Solid Rock

It was sometime in the mid-80s.

A Los Angeles TV news station ran a story about an up-and-coming heavy metal band called Poison, that was beginning to emerge as a popular act in town, and seemed to be on the brink of making it big.

The reporter questioned the band members about the name of their group, wondering why they would choose a name as seemingly unappealing as "Poison". One of the members answered, describing the band's struggles against parents who accused them of "poisoning our youth" with their music. Fed up with all the negative vibes, the band chose its name in defiance of these very parents and their concerns.

The quote given in the interview was: "Cut the crap, we're Poison!"

Nothing noteworthy in the quote itself, but there was something interesting that occurred in the broadcast of this interview:

The word "crap" was bleeped.


Let that sink in for a second...


Sounds quaint, doesn't it?


Times change.

Any adult could tell stories just like this one, stories of a more innocent time. A time when people cared about what was good and decent. A time when people took greater care to preserve the innocence of children. A time when right was right and wrong was wrong.

And, who could argue with these observations?

Yet, those same "good old days" included many plagues better left in the history books. Really, is anyone up for a return to segregation? Pre-suffrage politics? Primitive medicine? The chamber pot?

Perhaps that's some of the wisdom behind King Solomon's words:

"Do not say, 'Why were the old days better than these?' For it is not wise to ask such questions." (Ecclesiastes 7:10)

Solomon doesn't elaborate on this thought. He doesn't say exactly why it's so unwise to dwell on the good old days and look with scorn upon the present. He just says it's unwise.

Perhaps he knew people's tendency to exaggerate, making the good better and the bad worse than either really was.

Or, maybe people in his day were just as prone as we are to airbrushing the problems out of our fondest memories, creating in our minds a past so perfect, the present can't measure up to it.

Then again, it could just be that people in Solomon's time were just as troubled by shifting sands as we are today.

As long as people walk the earth, times will continue to change. The world's concerns will evolve and shift. Words will go unbleeped that were bleeped a generation before, while at the very same time, other matters will be treated with greater sensitivity than they had been previously, leaving us wondering how we ever overlooked them before.

In the end, will one generation's landscape prove to be categorically better than another?

Or, is every disciple called to be salt and light, right there in the very present time, regardless of when that happens to be?

Could it be that you live today, because God wants you here?

Times change, but Christ doesn't. (Hebrews 13:8)

Stand on the Rock and let the sand shift around you.

Don't love the sand, or hate the sand, or wish it would stand still. Or that it would go back to the way it used to be.

Certainly don't blow away with it.

Just stand on the Rock, and let not your heart be troubled.

"Oh, no, you didn't!"

Are you familiar with this phrase?

It's an expression of shock or anger at something provocative that another person has just done; something, in fact, that is about to meet an equally forceful response from the person saying, "Oh, no, you didn't!"

This TV commercial for a new video game is a great example of how this expression is used today:



The main character in this video game is a mercenary who was denied the money he was owed by whoever hired him, and so now, it's on.

(Well, there's another one. If you're not familiar with "on", it's pronounced somewhere between "own" and "awn", and it basically means the fight has started.)

I seriously doubt I'll never play Mercenaries 2, because in the world of video games, I never graduated beyond the Atari 2600. I couldn't even tell you what machine you have to have to play this game. But, regardless of your video game skill, the sentiment involved in this TV commercial is something that is all too familiar in human experience, and completely at odds with the will of God for His people.

"Payback is a comin', you will be runnin' forevahhh!"

"Beloved, do not avenge yourselves, but rather give place to wrath; for it is written, 'Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,' says the Lord." -- Romans 12:19

"Until I get my vengeance, I will never end this mayhem."

"For we know Him who said, 'Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,' says the Lord. And again, 'The Lord will judge His people.'" -- Hebrews 10:30

It's doubtful anyone would seriously dispute God's command against taking personal vengeance on another person, although it can't be assumed every believer is aware of it. On the other hand, human emotions can wreak havoc on a person's commitment to remain true to God's commands. John Grisham's novel A Time to Kill is a fictitious example of a person convincing himself that personal vengeance is justified, even to the point of committing murder in retaliation for an unpunished crime.

Does God really prohibit us from taking vengeance in every case?

Yes.

Doesn't He allow for any exceptions?

No.

Not even if your pre-teen daughter is raped by two men and left unable to conceive, and you fear her unrepentant attackers will be acquitted by a racist jury. (This is the main plot of A Time to Kill.)

Not even then. Not even when every emotion in your mind tells you the wrong has to be made right. In fact, especially then.

God reserves the business of vengeance for Himself alone. Funny how most of us wouldn't be bold enough to walk into our boss's office and sit down at the desk, out of respect for that person's territory. Yet, vengeance, as clearly as God has marked it as His own, is a place where many people are willing to tread without fear.

Vengeance is God's place. Don't go there. Make this commitment now, while all is well. Get this anchor in the water before waves begin to swell. If not, if you wait until you've been wronged, you can't trust what your mind will work out on its own.

But, even if we manage to resist the temptation to take vengeance when we've been wronged, is this really all God is looking for?

What was the standard Jesus taught during His ministry?

When Jesus spoke on the subjects of adultery and murder (Matthew 5:21-30), He took the discussion to a higher level than the people were accustomed to. No longer could righteousness be found in the mere avoidance of the full-blown, completed, physical act. Jesus challenged the people to consider the state of their hearts and minds, and made it clear to them that the fantasies of their minds had just the same spiritual consequence as the actual deed would have had.

Should we not apply the same principle to the discussion of vengeance?

Can we consider ourselves Christ-like for turning the other cheek, if all the while we're imagining carrying out our full vengeance against the offender?

"Create in me a clean heart, O God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me." -- Psalm 51:10

Ordinary Heroes

Foo Fighters' 1997 hit "My Hero" has long been a favorite of mine.

In the artists' own words, the song is "a celebration of the common man and his extraordinary potential". The lyrics certainly back up this message: "There goes my hero; watch him as he goes! There goes my hero; he's ordinary!"

In my own experience, this song has evolved from a great tune to play loud in the car, to a thought-provoking 4 minutes.

Check out the video:



If that's a little too hard for your taste, try this live acoustic version:



So, what's the difference now? Why does this song mean so much more to me now than it did when it was brand new?

The answer: The eyes of my two sons when they look at me.

Whether I deserve it or not, whether I live up to it or not, in the eyes of these two innocent children, I am a hero. Along with my wife, I define normal for them. I demonstrate habits they will either pick up without thinking, or make a point of avoiding; either way, specifically because those habits are mine. Decades from now, these boys will remember moments, words, and deeds that I will have long since forgotten. They will be impacted by all I do, and all I don't do.

They will see how a Christian husband treats his wife. How he treats his children. How he acts in the privacy of his home. His real attitude toward everything he shows the world in public.

They will see, in living color, whether the Christian life is really a daily lifestyle, or whether it's a weekly time card.

Ultimately, they will learn whether a Christian man means it when he says he is a slave to Christ.

They will learn all this from me, because to them, I am a hero. Yet, in my own eyes, I am quite ordinary. Any honest parent feels the same way. And, not just parents. Every Christian is an example to someone in this world who notices and remembers. Any Christian can be a hero to someone out there who is trying to find the way.

Why would God actually entrust something this powerful to us, when we are clearly so ordinary?

Simply put, because it's not about us. It's not about how ordinary we are. It's not up to our own strength. It's all a matter of who lives within us, and who directs the ones looked upon as heroes by others.

A life lived in submission to Christ does indeed have "extraordinary potential". And, a soul in submission to Christ will be a worthy example for anyone to follow.

Most children will, at some point, admire a super-hero, a professional athlete, or an entertainer of some kind. However, these heroes are not likely to stand the test of time or truly influence a soul's eternal destiny.

That privilege is reserved for ordinary heroes, just like you.

A Good Day

Stayed a little late at work today.

On my way out, the building was pretty much silent, but for the sound of custodians running vacuums off in the distance.

The door to the custodians' empty office was standing open as I passed by, and from inside I heard the sound of a radio, and vaguely recognized the song playing. It was a rap song from the early 90s, entitled, "It Was a Good Day".

In a way it was fitting, but it also provided food for thought.

This song's lyrics do not convey godliness in any sense.

The "good day" described in this song involves getting up around 10 am, eating breakfast cooked by "mama", packing a gun but not having to use it, driving around town on hydraulic shocks without being pulled over, winning money at dice and dominoes, committing fornication, celebrating a Lakers' victory, not losing any friends to murder, and enjoying a Fat Burger at 2 am on the drunk drive home.

What a day.

Besides the poignant note about the commonness of murder in a gang-infested area, this song describes a day in the life of a person living only for himself, thinking he is independent, but not realizing he is owned; he is under the sway of Satan.

Reflecting on this song prompted me to think back on my own activities of the day, and what I thought made today a good day.

Last night, the Dodgers beat the Cubs to take a 2-0 lead in the National League Division Series. This morning, I beat the traffic under the overpass and had a quiet morning drive. At work, I was able to finish the tasks I hoped to get done today, along with the unpredictable stuff that always happens. I helped a teacher, a student, and a parent patch things up after trust between them had been ruined. I found out we have a brand-new nephew in New Mexico. (Congratulations, Dan & Syndi!) No major problems among the student body today. And, tonight, Taco Bueno!

I gotta say, it was a good day.

But, I'm left unsatisfied with my thinking on what a good day really is.

Did I, today, at any moment, with any deliberate attention, give glory to God?

Did I remember the sacrifice of Jesus Christ for me?

Did I humble myself before God and acknowledge my dependence upon Him?

Did I give my wife a moment of my best attention, a moment she might remember someday after I'm gone?

Did I give my sons a piece of me today, something to mold their understanding of what a Christian man is? Did I do or say anything to turn their eyes to the Lord?

Did my colleagues see Christ at work today, or did they see me?

What is it we hope to accomplish when we get up in the morning? What are we satisfied with when we go to sleep at night?

What is our standard for our use of the time we have? Are we happy as long as our goals and desires are met, we manage to avoid disaster, and we pick up some fast food on the way home?

Or, are we mindful of eternity as our days pass us by?