Three things you may not care to read.

I just finished reading The Black Tulip for the second time last night. Of all of the works of Alexandre Dumas Pere, this one is a front-runner for my favorite. Black: The Story of a Dog is right up there as well. Maybe I'll reread that next. You'd think that his wildly popular works would be the number one - but maybe the appeal for me is the simplicity of these next to the vast panorama of Musketeer/Twenty Years After/Vicomte de Braggelone/Man in the Iron Mask or The Count of Monte Cristo.

I watched England play Israel in their Euro 2008 qualifier last night, too. Even though I was pulling for England, I still had a strange sense of satisfaction every time Rooney mis-fired. Defoe had flashes of brilliance. Not sure why he didn't start ahead of Rooney and Johnson. And yet, after all was said and done, it ended in a nil-nil draw.

I over-seeded my lawn the other day. There's a fun job, now. Gotta keep the grass growing. I'll be fertilizing it soon. Keeps me in the business of mowing my own lawn, I guess. Job security, you know?

A dream.

I had a dream that I had a few years ago. In the dream I was walking down a sidewalk with a man. Somehow I knew this man's past and future. Without being told, I knew that when the man was born, he had been immediately bound to a chair. He grew up in shackles of iron. But this man had been freed from the chair - liberated. It was clear. Since I found myself walking with him, he was obviously free to walk, even run. To live. To move. To dance! But, sadly, I also knew his future. I knew that he was on his way back... As we walked and talked I could not hear the conversation because all of my attention was distracted by the knowledge that although he'd been freed from the chair, his every intention was to go back to sit in the chair, broken shackles and all. On this day, it was his choice. On some days he returned carelessly out of habit. There were also days when he wanted desperately to stay out of it, but felt driven to return. And, although he couldn't put it into words, that chair had become a comfort to him despite the terrible nature of his former captivity there.

Tried to have a bad day...

I tried to have a bad day today. I woke up complaining, laying the groundwork for nothing good. I was brought back to my senses by two things:

First, my oldest daughter. Through a random tangent of conversation, she discovered that there is a summer break from school.

MC: "We're out of school all summer?!"
Me: "Yes."
MC: "Are you serious?!"
Me: "Yep."
MC: "Woo hoo!!"

She sat and stared out the car window smiling from ear to ear. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head thinking through the limitless possibilities that lay ahead... I decided to approach the day like my daughter at that point.

Second, God's Word in Philippians 2:14-15 gave me even more focus today. We shine like stars when we stay away from complaining and arguing. I nearly fell into a trap of my own making this morning. I'm thankful to have leapt over it... with a little help.

Omni-Dimensional

How much happier you would be,
How much more of you there would be,
if the hammer of a higher God
Could smash your small cosmos.

::Gilbert Keith Chesterton

God is beyond. Infinitely beyond. It's a very good thing that we cannot begin to fully comprehend Him. Because of His beyondness, I can trust Him, I can depend upon Him, I can believe Him. I was reading a book by Mark Battersell today and was grabbed by his thought that God is highly into doing what seems to be impossible for us. I've even seen Him do such things - yet I forget. May our eyes be open to seeing Him move. May we be prone to bedazzlement.

Responsiveness

Poison-control is a really good resource.

You call them. You tell them what and how much went in. They tell you what could happen and when. They call you back... They actually call you back to check on you in the prescribed time-frame! Pretty cool in my book.

How could the church benefit from this kind of urgently caring approach?

Ohne Worte Part II

OK. I wrote that post and something strange happened the following day. I turned invisible. Not literally, but kind of like the dude in Ellison's classic work The Invisible Man. Kind of like it, I said. Anyway - in a rather humorous yet disturbing way, no one would speak to me. I had to initiate all conversations that day. It was crazy. I literally walked into rooms filled with people and in-between people having conversations and it was as though I were invisible. I didn't feel like anyone was trying to snub me or anything - the longer it went on the more I laughed inside. It was as though I were being challenged with the idea of whether or not I was truly alright with silence... alright in my own skin. Could I function Ohne Worte - in a verbal void? It forced me to talk with God about who I am inside. It made me consider whether or not I needed verbal affirmation that what I do matters, that who I am is significant. Interesting times. After that day it was over. Everything's back to normal. I am visible again. And the inside is a bit clearer than before. Maybe it was all just a new version of solitude in the rush and tumble of this cultural monastery...

Ohne Worte

There's been a theme happening around me lately. It's in my reading, in time with God, in my work, in my life. It's in art, architecture, playing with my kids, in scripture, in worship. Ohne Worte. Without words.

The heavens tell of the glory of God... they continue to speak... without a sound or a word... yet their message has gone out to all the earth...

Our words try to pin God down, yet I'm sensing more and more that they sometimes serve to distract us. In the words of Martin Luther, "Ohne Sprache und ohne Worte; unhorbar ist ihre stimme."

You have taught nursing infants to give you praise...

What words do infants use? Cries and laughter, maybe. But still, ohne Worte.

Love God and Love People...

Our life lived for Christ is shown in our actions more than our words.

I was hungry and you fed me. I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger and you invited me in...

Inherit the Kingdom, ohne Worte.

Walk slower. And wait.

I've been camping out in Jeremiah, taking a slow journey through. It's been this good thing to come to the Word with no specific expectations of what I'm going to hear - to just spend time with Christ, letting Him speak when, if, and what He wants to... Writing curriculum for the church, I get into a rut of studying for the purpose of writing - not so much for encountering Christ, the living word. I find myself seeing just black ink on white pages instead of the Living Jesus. The slow walk has been good.

It was during this time in my reading of Jeremiah last week that God decided to put His finger down on one particular verse. It was Jeremiah 42:7 - Ten days later, the LORD gave his reply to Jeremiah. In my life with God, I've discovered this amazing thing - He answers prayer. But somehow along the way, the good part of a life lived expectantly morphed into a life lived in childish demand. So, reading this verse I was like, "Why did he have to wait ten days?"

Even as I spoke it, I was busted. I was cut. The need for heart-surgery was clear. I have lost sight of patience. I have forgotten again that God works for those who wait for Him.

Lord, thanks for this slow walk we've been on. And thanks that you do answer when we ask. Thanks that You're not angry with me, but that You desire what's best for me. Help me to wait well. Amen.