Fixing Things

Had an amazing cup of coffee this evening.

Oh, it didn't taste any more amazing than any other cup of coffee any other time. What made it amazing is that it came out of a coffee maker that was broken this morning.

Early this morning, before sunrise, I found this coffee maker wouldn't work, had no idea why, and simply made other plans. Told my wife about it as I left for the day, and, honestly, forgot all about it.

This evening, I saw my wife do something I never would have tried to do:  She took that machine apart, washed out all the pieces, ran water through it, and somehow, I have no clue how, restored it to working order.

I mean, seriously.

It works again, like it did before.

And I made a cup of coffee that smelled and tasted just like it was supposed to, just like it always had before whatever went wrong, went wrong.

I would have simply thrown the machine away and bought a new one.

Probably wouldn't have thought much about it.

And I don't think that is a judgment on me in any way, though it makes me think maybe we can tell something about a person by what they are willing to try to fix, to repair, to save. What they still see potential in, what they believe is worth the effort to take apart, run water through, and put back together again. What they're willing to go to that kind of effort to make work again like it's supposed to. And, what they're not willing to try to fix.

Is there a point of no repair with some broken things?

Am I sometimes too quick to assume we're past that point?

Perhaps not just with things, but with people?

Lamentation, Repentance, & Resolve

One of my favorite quotes from The Shawshank Redemption comes when the old man, Brooks, struggling to adjust to life on the outside, writes back to his friends who are still in prison:

"The world went and got itself in a big, damned hurry."

I proved something in 2002.

Again in 2003.

Proved myself in 2007.

And against all odds, again in 2009.

Proved something to whom?

Who was this throng of doubters who believed I didn't have what it took, and were left with egg on their faces, time and again, never learning what I'm made of?

Nobody I know. No one at all. Maybe the throng of doubters was really just me, and I was proving something to myself.

But just as Paul challenges death to show where its victory is, there is a voice from somewhere that now challenges me to show where my victory is for all these muscle flexes over all these years.

No, it isn't that I don't appreciate what I've been blessed to do, nor that I doubt God's presence in these steps. These moments are good memories, and I think I am a better person for them.

But the question that haunts me now is: What do I wish I could go back and change from this period of conquest?

*I wish we had taken a longer honeymoon, instead of hurrying back to work.

*I wish we had savored those early months, and delayed career advancement.

*I wish I could hold my infant sons again.

*I wish I had not rushed back to work after each of our sons was born.

*I wish my mind had not been clouded by career concerns while we were still in the hospital for our second son's birth.

*I wish I had found a way to see my grandfather in the five years before his death.

*I wish I had not believed so fervently that it mattered so much how fast I moved forward in my career. If anything, deeper roots at each stage would do me more good now than how proud I felt of my advancement at the time.

*I wish I had not gone and gotten myself in a big, damned hurry.

No more.

No more rushing, no more proving.

If I live as long as my grandparents did, I am at least halfway through my life. I will not create these same regrets again. I will seek to move from notoriety to anonymity, from a life of striving for milestones, to a life of creating beautiful moments and beautiful things.

I will slow down.

I will savor.

I will walk with Jesus, hold my wife's hand, be my sons' dearest guide, and, God willing, I will write.

A Time to Kneel

They marched again.

Torches and all.

Right back in Charlottesville, right in everyone's face, deliberate and defiant.

And more is almost certain to come.

And we are more concerned about whether football players kneel during the anthem.

Protect your children.

If you were ever concerned about the influence of popular culture on your child's life, this is the time, and this is the issue. This particular poison, home-grown white supremacy, and the terrorism that goes along with it, will be the ruin of us, far more readily than all the ills and influences we have worried about all of our children's lives.

More than movies, TV shows, music lyrics, unbelieving teachers at school, unchurched kids in the neighborhood.

More than sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll.

More than anything any jihadi could ever do.

This idea, this resurrection, this insurrection, will be the ruin of us.

If you happen to be white, a Christian, straight, and a mourner of how things are not as they used to be, this is the time to protect your children, and yourself. White supremacy is an infection with the power to infiltrate your faith. Where do you think it will go next, after it has infiltrated your politics?

Remember their slogans:

"Blood and soil!"

"Jews will not replace us!"

"F*ck you, faggots!"

Remember the car plowing into the crowd, killing a young woman.

There is nothing of Jesus in white supremacy. The Holy Spirit's flame does not light those torches, and the Father is not well pleased.

Now is a time to spend time with your friends who are different from the torch-bearers. Your friends who are not white, who are immigrants, who are not English-speaking, who are gay, and your friends who are not disciples of Jesus. Your friends the white supremacists are trying to frighten, silence, and cause to flee.

And if you don't have any friends like these, now is a time to make some.

Once, a king learned he was sick and would soon die. Heartbroken and scared, he prayed, pleaded, and wept to God, who heard his pleas, extended his life, and held off destruction by an enemy. (Isaiah 38)

The second march on Charlottesville should leave us heartbroken and scared, and convinced that we will soon die.

Now is a time for God to hear our pleas and see our tears as we wonder how on earth we got here. 

Jesus commands us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. Are we praying for these white supremacists who rally at night with their torches? 

If not, is it because we do not consider them our enemies?

Whether or not you believe that the one and only way to prove your love for your country is to stand before its flag and during its anthem, please know that the football players at least nailed the stance.

We should all be kneeling now.

Holy Spirit, change the hearts of the white supremacists, and protect the minds of those they seek to influence.

Father, we repent, and, as Hezekiah did, we ask for more time. 

And yet, we also pray, as John did, "Come, Lord Jesus."

First Prayer

First prayer with a new friend.

A gravelly patch of parking lot pavement turned into a holy site for all time.

First friendship to begin this way. A new way of connecting, a fresh start at forming a bond. Why did it take 44 years to begin searching for camaraderie this way?

What might it mean five years from now that this friendship began with this moment, this act? That it didn't take months or years of superficial association to slowly, awkwardly, delve into the faith we both already knew we shared?

What challenges might be overcome because we already went there? What challenges might never appear because we already are there?

Looking forward to finding out.

His Image

It's so easy to forget to see His image in the faces of people we can't stand.

Those who get on our nerves or offend us, those who bother us, annoy us, or make unreasonable demands on our patience.

How do we remember to see these folks not just as a pain in the rear, but as the focus of a love eternal? That dufus who drives me up the wall is the apple of the eye of a Creator so generous He offers His own Spirit for the asking.

Why can't I see that in real time? Why only after I reflect? Why sometimes not even then?

Why can't I remember that others probably have just as hard a time seeing His image in me?

Groundhog Day

Never seen the movie, but used it today.

Waist-deep in the same fight, with the same two people, repeated on at least an annual basis for most of the past decade, and finally thought to ask them if they had ever seen the movie.

Finally thought to ask why we keep waking up in this same day, over and over.

Finally thought to get out of the accusations and defenses.

Finally thought to ask why there is not enough trust in our relationship to make this argument needless.

Finally thought to make it about us, instead of about who is right.

Will it help?

Only time will tell, for the gap between us is broad.

But even a gap this broad has to be worth trying to bridge. 

If we give up, why should anyone try? 

Lord, get us out of Groundhog Day, and into the business of becoming peacemakers. 

Lord, let us see Your image in the faces of those we fight, and help us love them as You do.

Social Media

Sometimes I'm still proud of these gills I've grown over the last decade, how I've learned to breathe under this water I was so eager to dive into all those years ago.

Sometimes, but not as often as before.

Sometimes, I kinda hate 'em, these gills I wasn't born with.

And just about the time I seriously start to wonder whether these gills are actually bad for me, like maybe I would have been better off without them, like maybe I shouldn't have ever jumped in, I put my head above water and see my sons on dry ground, eager to dive in and join me.

My heart sinks.

No, please...not them.

Yes, they're coming. There's no stopping them now.

I mean, really?

They've been the fodder for how much of my underwater breathing all this time, have observed my constant swimming, and I really think I can keep them out of this water now?

My sons.

My precious boys.

I was there for their births. Fingers, toes, sweet little cries.

No gills.

But those gills are gonna grow on them, too, probably even more impressive than mine.

I wish it didn't have to be so.