Unfortunate Appearances

On the way back from our Colorado vacation we stopped by the Air Force Academy. We were disappointed to find the main Chapel closed because of three weddings back to back, but we did discover the Catholic Chapel on the lower level. My boys noticed several pictures of recent Popes displayed on a side wall. After taking in Pope Benedict my youngest boy, with no malice at all, states matter of factly, "He looks like a Sith Lord." I had to admit, situated next to the grandfatherly appearance of John Paul II, Pope Benedict does come across a little less photogenic!

Frittering

The compulsive search for diversion is often an attempt to escape the wretchedness of life.

Douglas Groothuis

I don't yet Twitter, but I do Fritter. I fritter away time. I go on little diversions throughout the day - I check in at espn, or peruse a few blogs, or play a game on the computer, or check Facebook, or ... I trust you can add you're own favorites. It's easy to make the argument that these  harmless activities provide a needed break from the routine of the day. 

Pascal argued over 300 years ago that it would be wise for me to ask why I fritter my time away. He didn't even have the internet, yet warned that entertainment and diversion would hinder happiness and ultimately lead to destruction. You can read more in this post by Justin Taylor.

I tend to fritter when I'm avoiding something. My frittering has less to do with taking a break than it does with delaying the start of work; it's a computerized version of cleaning the room before studying for the test. But the studying eventually takes place because the test is tomorrow. But what if the test isn't tomorrow?

Not everything of importance has a due date. I can take an hour to reflect on the direction of my life or  I can make that one on one conversation with my child happen today, but I don't have to. I can always do it tomorrow ... or the next day. It's not that Frittering takes up so much time that I can't do the important stuff, it's that Frittering keeps me occupied, it keeps me distracted so that I don't even think about the important stuff.

The longer you don't think about the important stuff, the more terrifying it is to set aside the Frittering and reflect on your life, your calling. But one day the due date on life comes to pass. One day we all give an account for what we did with the one life we were given.

I'm not sure the way forward, but I'm pretty sure it's not playing a computer game. 

What about you - is Frittering a harmless distraction or something more?

That's My Boy

My son Trent has never played on a good baseball team. His team is the one you don't have to try out for, the one that remains open to kids who haven't played much. There is no such thing as a routine play - the easiest pop up or ground ball can quickly turn into an adventure. The bottom half of the lineup does well just to get the bat on the ball, never mind actually getting on base.

Last night Trent's team enters the bottom of the last inning losing 5 to 2. The end of the batting order is due up, so parents begin to gather their folding chairs recognizing we'll soon be telling the boys good game and reminding them it's about getting better rather than winning.

New pitcher on the mound, doesn't look like he has much - it's not uncommon for teams to get away with pitching their third or fourth best pitcher against us. Outfield playing shallow, like 15 feet behind the infield. That way if a ball actually does get out of the infield, the right fielder can thrown the kid out at first.

First batter hist a ball clean over the left fielder's head for a double. The kid has hit some balls hard before, but it only occurs once every ten at bats, so you kind of forget he can do it. Next better hits a clean single to right field. He rarely gets the bat anywhere close to the ball. First and third no outs.

The other team's coach has seen enough. After only two batter and a 5 to 2 lead, he casts off his pitcher to right field and brings in his ace. Tall, left handed, hard throwing, and the attitude that says you'll be going home soon.

The left-hander begins by picking off the runner at first base. One out. Then he strikes out the batter. Two outs, runner on third, and our meager hopes dying fast. But we did manage to get to the top of the order.

Our lead off hitter crushes the ball to left center. Crushes as in the outfielder turns and runs without looking at the ball because he knows it's going to the fence. Inside the park home run, two runs in, still losing 5 to 4.

Next batter takes a mighty swing and rips the ball ... five feet down the third base line. It's perfectly placed ... the pitcher scrambles over, makes the throw, but it's not in time. I quickly look to the on deck circle. That's my boy, watching the play, reacting with a fist pump, and jogging to the plate with two outs, the tying run on base, and all the pressure in the world to get a hit.

It's hard to appreciate what goes through a players mind at this point. You want to be the guy that gets the clutch hit, but you don't want to be the guy that lets the team down. Players secretly fight off the thought that they hope the kid in front of them ends the game with a key hit ... or an out. Anything but making the last out yourself. But you can't be the hero without risking failure.

Trent fouls off a pitch. He's behind on the ball - not sure he can catch up to this guy. He take a ball, fouls off another pitch, and takes another ball. Two balls, two strikes, two outs. This could be it.

Fastball, outside corner, a flash of the bat, and a lightning shot down the right field line into the corner. Stand up triple, game tied. Next hitter knocks a single into left, scoring Trent with the winning run. Joy. That's my boy, so proud of him, so happy for him.

I love that he got such a great hit, but I'm even more proud of the fist pump when he realized he was coming to the plate with the game on the line. He was nervous, but he was courageous as well. That's my boy and God is doing a good work in his heart. That is something to cheer about.

What Do You See?

We have a field behind our church - a good size field, flat and green and recently mowed. In one corner is a backstop - the kind used at a major league baseball park for batting practice. I never see anyone using the field, which is odd in a youth sports crazed town in which an open practice field is hard to come by. Perhaps it's the signs.

Two signs announce that the field is only available for official church functions. I asked around and found out the original signs included a "NO TRESPASSING" warning. Good move - wouldn't want anyone not associated with the church to be on church property!

What do you see? Apparently you can look at a field and see several different things, such as ...

• a blessing to the community
• increased insurance cost
• an open door to undesirables
• something to be shared
• something to be guarded

Another way of asking the question: What do you fear? I fear we've been entrusted with a stewardship from God and we have buried our field in the ground.

Voices: Coach Thomas

Coach Thomas worked with lineman on my high school football team - the big guys who did all the hard work so us little guys could run around and grab all the glory. I remember his voice on the football field - a big voice that commanded attention. But when I replay that voice in my head, I hear a voice of strong encouragement and deep joy and peaceful humility.


I played for several coaches who modeled faith and hard work and commitment. Coach Thomas was one of those. He called boys to become young men and made sure they knew he was for them. Ever since I've known him (over twenty five years) he's followed Christ.


I heard his voice again several weeks ago. My wife and daughter and I were watching my son run in a track meet, actually just a practice meet for middle school kids. With the sun setting on that wind blown day we were getting just cool enough to think about heading home. Looking down the track I spotted my son talking to Coach Thomas. Found out later Coach Thomas recognized my son by his resemblance to me. Soon Coach Thomas made his way to us. So good to see the warm smile and hear the deep voice once again. Introductions were made with my wife and daughter and words exchanged when this big, hulking football coach stooped over and engaged my eight year old daughter in conversation. He discovered she wanted to be a teacher. With a big smile and that familiar voice of encouragement and joy, he shared how much he enjoyed teaching, acknowledging it didn't pay a lot, but it was so rewarding. How he couldn't imagine a better life.


This coach who had encouraged me in my faith and life, who had generously supported my pursuits, who had affirmed my call, now blessed my daughter and her dreams. Coach Thomas just keeps on giving and encouraging and affirming and he does it with such joy and humility. I can only hope and pray I've captured some of his voice in mine. Thank you, Coach Thomas. Your voice carries on through the generations of young men and women you've blessed. I count you wealthy - rich in all the things that matter. 

Opportunity Knocking on the Church Door

A volcano in Iceland shuts down air traffic in Europe stranding passengers in New York City to sleep on airport cots and shower in public restroom sinks. Tim Stevens wonders if the church is missing an opportunity to be the hands and feet of Jesus and show some hospitality by providing a place to sleep, a warm meal, and a change of clothes.

Got me thinking about what kind of church would help in that situation: probably not a highly programmed church - too busy keeping the machine operating (unless of course they had already set up a ministry program to reach stranded travelers.) Probably not a church more concerned with teaching right answers on a theology exam than living the faith - too busy getting ready for Bible study at the church.

Before coming to any conclusions I shared a lunch with my friend John. He talked about what God had been showing him - that perhaps some of the challenges he saw around him came from people not experiencing God's love. And perhaps his challenges in responding to those people also fell short because he didn't fully experience God's love. Perhaps the most important thing he could do would be to help people experience the love of God.

Simple and profound - I keep thinking about it ... Today I'm looking for opportunities to help people know and experience God's love. Surprised at how often my agenda gets in the way - which leads me to question why my agenda is what it is.

What if the church made it her focus to help people experience the love of God - seems like that would change the way a lot of churches operate. I suspect you would see an encouraging church - less concerned with getting you to do their thing, more concerned that you knew in your soul that God loved you. I suspect you would find a listening church, willing to serve, to understand, to meet you where you are to offer a taste of the gospel. I suspect you would find a humble church, awed by the enormity of the good news of Christ, desperately dependent on God's grace and power to share that gospel in ways that actually pointed people to Christ.

A church like that is a church that would see stranded passengers as an opportunity to show hospitality - just what God does with us wandering travelers, lost in our own agendas, unsure of which way to go, wondering how we will ever find our way home.

To Write

I need to write, so I will write. Something inside me needs to get outside me, so I've decided to write. Not entirely sure what that something is, but it's there. Perhaps I'll discover what it is as I write.