Planting seeds, part 2: Some practical tips

Dovetailing off yesterday's post, I was thinking this morning about ways to "plant seeds" in our daily encounters with people. Here's what I've come up with so far:

1. Ask the grocery store clerk how their day's going. Actively listen to the answer and show that you genuinely care.

2. Surprise your hairdresser with a larger tip than he or she was expecting. Be sure to thank them for doing a good job.

3. Thank the Guard member walking back to their car in the store parking lot for their service. Shake their hand, if they seem open to such a gesture. (I learned this one from watching my dad do it. I did it myself in the Target parking lot a few weeks back and seemed to make the young airman's day. If I'm not willing to leave my family and go fight for my country, the least I can do is show appreciation for those who do.)

4. Pick up someone who can't drive any more and take them out to eat, to the mall, to a movie or to church.

5. Avoid the temptation to bite someone's head off when you come back to the office after wrestling with your car doors in the 60 mph wind gusts. (Can you tell I experienced this one first-hand today?)

Are any of these actions overtly religious? No. (With the exception of taking someone to church, of course.)

Do they need to be? I would argue no, they don't.

I think the biggest way we demonstrate our faith is through our actions. If we profess to be Christian (or any other faith, for that matter) and yet our actions are the polar opposite of our faith's teachings, we're actually planting weeds of faith, not seeds.

Which makes me think of the following quote, which I first heard as the lead-in to dc Talk's song "What If I Stumble?":

"The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians who acknowledge Jesus with their lips and walk out the door and deny Him by their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable." -- Brennan Manning

Have other practical tips? Please share them in the comment box below.

Don't ever stop planting

One of the things that surprise some people about my background is that I grew up on a farm. I'm not really sure why this information comes as such a shock to those folks -- maybe it's because I "dress up" for my office job. I really can't explain it. (I even had to go so far as to bring my blue FFA denim jacket to work once to prove to a copy editor that I was president of my high-school chapter!)

Through my years on the farm, I saw my parents struggle through hard financial times more often than good ones. But they never gave up. Every spring, Dad would get on the tractor, hitch up the planter and head into the fields to sow alfalfa, corn or wheat seeds. Even after hail had damaged the alfalfa seed the year before, or prices dropped and the good harvest he stored up wasn't worth what he'd hoped, he'd get back on the tractor and head out again.

I wouldn't have blamed him in the least if he had thrown up his hands and said, "This is not worth it." But he loved what he did and held out hope that each growing season would be better than the last -- both in terms of harvest yields and financial gain.

Now he and Mom are retired and finally able to enjoy a bit more of the finer things in life. I couldn't be happier for them! (Can't wait to ride in the first brand-new vehicle they ever bought when I see them this summer!)

 
But as I read Luke 8:1-15 and Jesus' Parable of the Sower (http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke+8&version=NIV) and think back on those years growing up, I can't help but wonder whether I would have had the intestinal fortitude to stick it out the way they did. I'm one of those people who could never be self-employed because I need the assurance of a regular paycheck and the ability to pay the bills with that money.

And although the main lesson I learned on the farm was the importance of hard work, I tend to struggle when adversity really hits (though I have been blessed to not experience serious hardships so far in my life's journey). More often than not, I am the pessimistic voice in conversations about finances who foresees the worst-case scenario and wants to plan for that eventuality. Trust is not my strong suit.

But I learn from Jesus' parable that I need to focus on his Word and stick with it until there's a "harvest," which I interpret to mean holding onto my beliefs and principles throughout my life. Of course, like all people of faith, I have questioned what I believe from time to time. But throughout my married life, circumstances have come up time and again that reaffirmed my belief that God has a plan for my life and will take care of me through all of life's struggles. If I put my trust in God, He won't let me down.

Sure, there will be some unhappy days. There will be some trials and tribulations. But as long as I keep focused on His will for my life, I will get through all of those challenges.

The other lesson of the parable is that we all need to sow seeds through spreading the Word of God. Maybe this blog is one way I can do that. Sharing my faith with our youth group at church every Sunday is another. Surely there are other opportunities that I need to watch out for, including my daily interactions with people.

I'm certainly no John the Baptist, Billy Graham or Rick Warren; few of us are. But the lesson seems clear: Just as my dad never quit growing crops, we need to keep planting our own seeds of faith. Sure, some will fall on the road, some in the gravel and some in the weeds. But those that fall in the "good earth" will make it worth all that work.

Don't give up. Don't ever stop planting.

Life is a series of priorities

On tap for today's lunch hour: Write a blog post, read a set of articles provided by my boss in advance of tomorrow's managers training and read the rough drafts of two pieces of a long-term enterprise project.

Assuming I successfully complete all three of these tasks in the next hour or so, there will still be 11 items on my current work "to do" list. And those are just the immediate tasks that need to be completed in the next few days.

Handwritten on the next sheet of the same tablet is my "to do" list for the upcoming weekend. At this point, it contains six items that I want to complete Saturday, since I'm trying to keep Sundays free. (Top of the list: Clean our storage shed with my mother-in-law, since the forecast calls for a high of 66 degrees. Of course, it is spring in Cheyenne, so that may slip down the priority list.)

In addition to these two lists, I have a Word file in my computer that's broken down into "Work," "Personal" and "Church/Youth group/Board of Ordained Ministry" lists. Each of those "to do" lists is broken into short-term and long-term categories.

None of these lists ever go away, of course -- they just change from time to time as I complete certain tasks and add others that need to be done. Which could really frustrate a Type-A person like me, except I've come to view these lists from a different perspective in recent years: Instead of being upset that I never seem to get rid of the need for "to do" lists, I have come to realize that when the lists go away, maybe I should too. Maybe the lists are just a written representation of my life's work and why I am here. And if that's true, when the lists are empty, what more is there for me to do? (Of course, that's not literally true, but it's an interesting thought, right?)

Another thing I've come to realize as I've gotten older is that to stay on top of all the tasks on those lists, the key ingredient is doing the truly important things first, not just staying busy. After all, life is just a series of priorities, isn't it?

When I got up this morning, I asked myself: Do I go to the gym for a second consecutive lunchtime today, or do I stay at the office and get some extra work done? Both are important, and now you know which way I decided. But that one wasn't too difficult.

What about when it comes to how we spend our "free" time? Do we while away the hours watching meaningless TV, or do we volunteer some of that time with an organization whose mission matches our values? Or do we play a card game with our kids (like I did Sunday evening after writing about the time suck of electronic devices)?

Or how about what we do with "our" money (though it all came from God, so it's not really ours)? Do we waste it on (insert your personal vice here; mine is media -- DVDs, CDs, magazines, etc.), or do we give some of it to those in need?

I know I'm not alone in any of this. All busy people have "to do" lists. Some are just better at prioritizing the items on those lists than others. How are you doing at it?

Anyone blessed to have any "expendable" income beyond the money required to buy food and provide shelter faces the question of how to spend it. It's not my place to judge your choices; that's between you and God. Do you think you're making wide decisions?

Just some food for thought. Have fun setting your priorities! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some reading to do.

The importance of face-to-face contact

The theme of this week at work is "The Importance of Face-to-Face Contact."

No, it's not a declared theme, but it is the focus of our newsroom managers training over lunch Wednesday. You see, like most organizations, we have some people who would rather rely on messaging systems or email to let those they work with know what's going on.

I find myself slipping into this trap from time to time, and when I do, invariably I find that I am less confident that I have successfully communicated my intent or that what I intended the communicate is even being read. I also feel out of touch with what's going on around me when I see people talking with each other and I haven't checked in with them recently.

To prevent that from happening, I refocused myself on the reporters I supervise by having one-on-one conversations with each of them today about their week ahead and which stories are priorities. This should be a weekly occurrence, but over time I have let this important part of my supervisory role take a back seat to busywork.

Playing off yesterday's post about the impact of screens on our lives, I wonder how much we are losing out on the important human connections in our lives when we sit behind computer screens, text each other instead of making a call or post messages on Facebook instead of going to see a friend who lives in the same town. (In fact, one of our front-page stories today is about depression caused by Facebook!)

God calls all of us to love and care for one another in myriad ways. Can we do that through technology? Of course we can. A caring message on Facebook or sent by email means a lot to someone who is across the country and in need affirmation. But how much more might a handwritten note or a phone call mean to that person?

Or how about taking a friend to lunch, rather than sending an email or text? I would dare say that none of my strongest memories of favorite moments in my life involve something exchanged via screen.

So thanks for reading this blog post, but what are you waiting for? Get up, find another person and engage them in some quality face-time!

Are our lives getting simpler or more complex?

Another day, another computer virus scare.

Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but what was planned as a simple hour of blogging, catching up on email and playing games online with my son before my niece's birthday party turned into another panic attack. For the second time in three months, it seemed that our desktop computer had been infected.

Last time this happened, we spent four days without the computer and paid $140 to have an expert remove the nasty electronic bug. (Little did our ancestors know we'd someday have exterminators who killed bugs other than cockroaches and ants, huh?)

Thankfully, a third reboot, followed by running an anti-spyware program installed by the computer technician who removed the previous virus, seems to have solved the problem.

But it caused me to think once again about how simple, yet complex, our lives have become in this Age of Screens.

Simple because I can check the weather forecast, find out what my friends have been up to and read the latest news on my smartphone in the first five to 10 minutes of my day without even going downstairs and booting up the computer.

I can listen to a book as I'm traveling between towns or around town or catch up with my favorite podcasts on my iPod. No more need to lug around a carrying case full of cassette tapes or compact discs, either. Now my favorite song is one button-push away!

And I can relax at the end of the day or have 30 or 40 friends over at a time to watch the Oscars, the Super Bowl or a favorite movie on a screen that can be seen all over our living room, thanks to the joys of flat-screen plasma TVs.

Cool, right? Much better than the days of slide rules and 45 rpm vinyl records, huh?

Well, yes and no. Although all of these devices simplify our lives and make them more enjoyable in many ways, they also make life more complex and less meaningful. They discourage us from interacting with our families, spouses and friends in meaningful ways. And when the technology fails, it tends to do so in spectacular fashion. Fixing it is rarely inexpensive, which complicates budgets, along with adding to our stress levels.

So which is better? The simplicity that comes with old-fashioned pencil and paper letters, books made out of dead trees and telephones with dials that spun back to their place of origin after each number was selected?

The answer isn't easy. Unfortunately, I love a lot of things about the three devices pictured above, plus the computer I'm typing this blog post on. I can't imagine going back to the days before I owned these devices. But there are days and specific moments when I look for ways to escape having my eyeballs locked in on another screen (in fact, we've had to go so far as to limit our children's "screen time," which now includes video games on the Wii and Nintendo DS, iPod Touch, regular TV and computer). I would rather read a nice hand-written note from a friend or visit over coffee with a member of my church family after worship, as I had the pleasure of doing this morning.

I have no interest in adding another electronic device -- the e-book reader -- to my life, despite friends and co-workers singing its praises. There's still something rewarding and tangible about picking up a hardcover book, curling up in an oversized chair and getting lost in the story contained in its pages. (I have a Bible app on my smartphone, but I never use it. I would rather grab the leather-bound copy my wife bought for me.)

All of this makes me wonder if our society is doing what the author Neil Postman suggested several years back with the title and theme of his book, "Amusing Ourselves to Death." My challenge in this day and age is to engage my children in activities that can be rewarding that don't involve electronic devices (serving breakfast at the local homeless shelter, picking up trash along the road near our home and riding our bicycles along the Greenway are three examples of summer activities we have done in the past).

And just as I am working on my spiritual development by engaging in daily reflection, I wonder what else I should do to lead by example.

Maybe next year for Lent I should give up my iPod or my TV. Then again, maybe I should stick with the fast food ...

There but for the grace of God go I

As I sit in the atrium near the community college library and stare out the window, the changing seasons couldn't be more obvious.

An overnight snowstorm laid down a thin layer of snow and ice over every surface -- grassy areas turned from tan to white, and the pavement had the glossy sheen of being ice-covered. Walking across the parking lot this morning carrying a work bag, laptop and large cup of coffee, I muttered a prayer over and over until I got inside: "Please, Lord, don't let me slip and fall."

Yet now, almost two hours after I arrived, the sidewalk outside the window is dry except for the small puddles where the melted snow is dripping off the roof above. Patches of brown, mixed with a few dark green blades of grass coming out of hibernation, are starting to show through the snow. The birds are foraging for food, and the squirrels have come out to play by gripping the textured exterior walls and seeing how high they can climb before fear overcomes them and they slowly work their way back down to the ground.

A pretty peaceful scene now, but on the way here, Conner and I saw the aftermath of three vehicle crashes along Interstate 80, including a pickup truck resting on its roof after flipping upside down. Leave it to an 11-year-old to ask the obvious question: "How the heck did that happen?"

My quick response: "He was probably driving way too fast for the road conditions and lost control."

Yet another possible response comes to mind now as I reflect on what we saw: "There but for the grace of God go I." I wasn't in that truck when it flipped. How do I know what happened? How quickly I look at a situation, size it up and assume I know what happened or who was at fault!

Because how many times have I acted recklessly in my life? How easily could I have been the one whose vehicle was upside down in that interstate median? I've certainly ended up in the ditch a time or two as the car I was driving spun out of control on an icy road, and speed wasn't not a factor in those situations!

What about you? Is any part of your life out of control? Any reckless actions you need to rein in a bit?

One big advantage of daily spiritual reflection is that it forces us to stop everything, think about our lives -- if even for a short time -- and decide whether things are going the way we want them to go. Do I need to make some changes? Of course. I already have by working hard six days a week to try to give myself a break on Day 7. But there are other things I need to do differently too.

Today was just another reminder along life's journey that I need to be careful in my routine actions -- whether it's driving on an icy road or walking across a slippery parking lot -- and keep muttering those prayers to God.

Guest blog post: "We create meaning"

Running out of steam after a long Friday at the newspaper, so I'm going to cheat and post something I found this week in a column by Helen Gray of The Star in Kansas City called "Voices of Faith." This was sent to us via McClatchy-Tribune News Service under the header "We create meaning." I read it today while getting my weekly allergy shots, so it counts as my daily Lenten devotion. Enjoy!

The Rev. Holly McKissick, pastor of St. Andrew Christian Church, Olathe, Kan.:

"I talked (barely taking a breath in nine hours) to our van-driving youth minister as we made the journey home from our church mission trip. It was before seat belt laws, and I sat on an ice cooler crammed between the driver's seat and the passenger's seat in the old van.

"I wasn't naive or overprotected, but I'd never seen folks that poor. In south Texas I had seen an old woman eating cat food and kids growing up without running water.

"I've spent the past three decades on that ice cooler, struggling for meaning, especially when life is tender and broken. I'm not alone. The search is universal and lifelong. You don't leave it behind with adolescence.

"After he survived Auschwitz and Dachau, Viktor Frankl wrote the profoundly powerful 'Man's Search for Meaning.' In a world of unimaginable brutality, Frankl witnessed starving people sharing their bread. He wrote: 'Everything can be taken from a man but one thing ... to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.'

"We are meaning-seeking creatures. Hopefully, somewhere along the journey we figure out that meaning is not something we find, it's something we create. The meaning you create and the contribution you make depend on how much time you spend sitting on the cooler and how much time you spend sharing your bread."

How about lightening someone's load today?

I got a haircut at lunchtime today.

So, you say? What's the big deal, right? Well, it wasn't a big deal, except I always feel better -- lighter, even -- for some reason after letting my hair get a bit long and then getting it cut. (No, I'm not a little "light in the head," so save your wisecracks, people!)

And since this Lenten focus on spiritual reflection has me looking for the "God connections" to everyday activities, I got to thinking about how we can lighten the load for others on a daily basis.

I hope the name of this blog hasn't turned anyone off, because it certainly wasn't named that way to try to bring attention to me or my actions. But as I alluded to in my opening blog post, I do believe we all have a purpose in this journey called life, and lightening the loads of others is one of those purposes.

"But I'm too busy carrying my own heavy load to worry about someone else's burdens," I can hear you say. Baloney! All that comment means is that you're too self-centered to worry about anyone else -- especially someone who might be worse off than you are.

Of course, the Bible story that immediately comes to mind is the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10: 25-37):

On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 

What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?” 

He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” 

“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.” 

But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” 

The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”

Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.” 

That may be more of a lightening of the load than you're ready for. So how about starting small? Here are a few suggestions:

1. The next time you see someone struggling to carry several heavy grocery bags while making sure their small children are coming along toward their vehicle, offer to help carry something.

2. Hold the door open to a store or office building for someone behind you, rather than just walking in or out and letting it close behind you.

3. Put your extra change from a coffee, snack or fast-food purchase in a small box for charity designed to help those in need -- Ronald McDonald House, Meals on Wheels, homeless shelter, etc. (I have one for the American Cancer Society on my desk at work right now to support our Relay for Life team.)

4. Volunteer an hour for a church project, at the local homeless shelter or any other charity of your choice. (For a list of groups seeking help in the Cheyenne area, see my "Everyone gives, Everyone gains" blog at http://blogs.wyomingnews.com/blogs/everyonegives/)

5. Take one small task from someone at work who you see is overburdened and do it yourself.

Go ahead, pick one of the above and go do it.

I'll wait ...

There, now that wasn't so hard, was it? And don't you feel lighter too?

Focusing on the positive (easier said than done)

A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones. -- Proverbs 17:22

Are you a Grumpy Gus or a Merry Mary?

In other words, is your outlook on life generally that the glass is always half empty or that it is half full?

I have to admit that, when faced with adversity, most often in my life my tendency has been to become a Grumpy Gus. This is especially true when it comes to money -- I tend to focus on the bills left unpaid and not the fact that we're still able to do a lot with the money we do have. It's at these times I need to focus on this verse:

Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you." -- Hebrews 13:5

Maybe my tendency comes naturally. I grew up with a grandmother who loved to call my mom every morning and read her the obituaries and tell her all of her ailments. (Don't get me wrong. I loved my grandma, and I know she loved me. We had a lot of good times through the years. But I saw how that negativism wore on my mom in Grandma's later years. Thankfully it skipped a generation. I just hoped it would miss me too.)

But what about in other situations? How do you react, for instance, when your boss hands you a extra project, but you're already feeling overworked? What about when the raise you thought you were getting doesn't come through? Or the raise you just got is eaten up by the health insurance rate hike you didn't expect? Do you kick the dog, yell at the kids or throw things that should stay grounded?

Of course, in this economy, we should be thankful just to have a job. So why is it so difficult at times to keep that in mind and focus on the good things in life? Maybe it's because no matter how minor the difficulty we're dealing with, it's still our difficulty. We're the one who has to deal with it. No one's going to wave a magic wand and make it go away, right?

But can't we try a bit harder to focus on the needs of others and not ourselves? Can't we be thankful for what we have and not covet what our neighbor just bought? Can't we be happy with the smartphone we got a year ago instead of wishing we had the newer, faster one that hit store shelves last week? (The answer to that last one: Definitely not! ;>})

Not to go all Bobby McFerrin on everyone, but even in this dark time of Lent, it's time to try being happy for a change. It's time to start looking for the silver lining in every situation. It's time to turn off "The Apprentice" and "Survivor" and turn on "Dancing With the Stars." Yeah, it's still a goofy time-waster. But at least the competitors aren't cutthroat, and isn't that a healthier way to live?

Being alone without being lonely

When I was younger, I hated to be alone. In many ways, I still do.

Every day, I thank God for the actions he took in Genesis, Chapter 2.

Then the Lord God said, “It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him.” -- Genesis 2:18

Of course, God couldn't find another creature among his creation that would serve as a suitable "helper" for Adam, so he put him into a deep sleep, took one of his ribs and created a woman, Eve.

Now whether you believe this is actually what happened or not, the point is that one man by himself was no good. Humans need interaction with other humans. God bless those who live alone and enjoy it -- I'm just not one of them.

My wife has been the one person throughout my adult life that I have enjoyed spending time with the most. And thanks to her, for the past 13+ years, I have had children to share my time with, as well. As they have grown older, I've enjoyed a variety of activities with them, plus time together as a family.

But maybe because of the busyness that comes along with family life, I've grown to appreciate small amounts of alone time much more than before. Don't get me wrong -- I'm still no good for more than about two days without my family around me. I can't feed myself without the aid of a microwave and a precooked meal. And after just a few hours, the quiet that settles over the house starts to feel oppressive, rather than welcomed.

One of the darkest times in my life was during the year that I lived alone in eastern Oregon while my bride-to-be was finishing her last year in college across the state. I experienced great joy of being with her during a winter break that year, followed by deep depression when she returned to school and I focused on the long number of days until I would see her again.

Still, I enjoy a quiet couple of hours on our deck on a summer day, reading a good book. I enjoy an hour here and there browsing the bookstore aisles or checking out the latest offerings at the county library. And occasionally I wish I was the only one at the gym as I'm walking on the treadmill, rather than being distracted by the activity around me.

Now, from time to time, I can be alone without being lonely.

I guess this perspective must be similar to what Jesus felt when he'd finally had enough of the crowds pressing in around him at times during this three years of ministry:

Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. -- Matthew 14:22-23a

But I still have some work to do when it comes to alone time. I want to feel comfortable just being alone with God. I still seem to think I need to "talk" to him, rather than just being still and letting him "speak" to me through the Spirit. I need to find ways to quiet my mind -- to clear my thoughts of the things I should be doing and instead discern his will for me and my personal journey through life.

I guess since it's taken me 40 years to appreciate a small amount of alone time, this next stage of the journey could take awhile too, right? I just pray I'm not hoping for the same thing when I'm 80.

Of course, as long as my "helper" isn't tired of my sorry backside when we get to that point and giving me all the alone time I could want, I'll be happy!

My body is a temple? Great! Now what do I do?

Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.-- 1 Corinthians 6:19-20

I firmly believe that one of God's greatest gifts to mankind is the chocolate chip cookie. When it comes to chocolate chip cookies, I subscribe to the "Star Trek: The Next Generation" philosophy of the evil Borg race:

So how am I supposed to live up to the expectations Paul laid out for the people of Corinth when it comes to treating my body as a temple? Well, I suppose I should avoid the temptation of chocolate chip cookies to start, right? (And ice cream ... and french fries ... and maple bars ... and Peanut M&Ms ... and ... )

But what else do I have to do? Avoid drugs, cigarettes and too much alcohol? No problems there.

Watch my weight? Exercise as often as I can? Certainly, though that's easier said than done some days/weeks. (I walked an hour on the treadmill at lunchtime today, but I didn't make it at all last week, and a kind co-worker left a Cadbury creme egg on my desk while I was at the gym. It's calling me from my desk drawer as I type this.)

But what about the more challenging meanings? What about the idea that putting the wrong thoughts in your head also is "defiling the temple"? Now I have to be careful what I watch on TV or at the movies, what I read and what I talk about with others? Not as easy! (Especially since, I'll admit, I'm a fan of many of the dramas on HBO. Not exactly kiddie fare! Maybe as long as I don't act like those people I see on TV, it's OK?)

Christianblog.com says "Defilement is caused from sin, the sin nature, and/or sinful conduct." I can say that I do my best to control most aspects of my "sin nature." But don't we all have something we need to work on? None of us is perfect, living a life completely free from sin, are we? So what do we do?

Thank goodness God gave us another gift: Grace.

I believe that as long as we're upfront with him about our struggles with sin, and pray that he help us with these struggles, he'll give us strength and grace.

Now if only he could give us a chocolate chip cookie that tastes great but has zero calories!

The importance of honoring the Sabbath

(Part 3 of three parts about slowing down and getting some much-needed rest)

Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labor, and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God. On it you shall not do any work ... For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day. Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy. -- Exodus 20:8-11

After a busy morning at church, I have no plans for the rest of this Sunday. Yes, you read that correctly -- NO PLANS! (Well, at least no "to do" list. I'm writing this from the county library, since Conner is here with his 4-H Lego Robotics team editing a video for competition. We'll have dinner tonight with Melissa's side of the family, but other than that, NO PLANS!)

Those of you who know me well know this is nearly unheard of. I rarely have a day where I don't refer constantly to a list of tasks that need to get done. So it feels a bit weird to just go with the flow today and do whatever I want to do.

Possibilities include (but are not limited to): Reading the Sunday newspaper more thoroughly than I usually do; reading "The Passage" by Justin Cronin, a 766-page novel I started more than a month ago (I'm on page 97); reading magazines from the large bedside pile; playing Wii or board games with Conner (Sydney is at a friend's house this afternoon); listening to music; taking a nap; listening to music while taking a nap ...

But is this REALLY what God wants me to be doing with my time? As the days, weeks, months and years of my life have gone by, more and more I have come to realize that the answer is yes -- God wants each of us to take one day out of seven to slow down and get some rest. I'll be happier, more productive and less bitter if I take some time for myself, rather than wearing myself down to a nub.

Should that day be Saturday or Sunday? There's a lot of conversation on the Internet about which day is really the Sabbath, but the bottom line for me is I don't care. I think as long as we get one day of rest every seven, we're doing what God intended.

So why is it so difficult for many of us to get that day of rest? The answers are obvious, and many of them apply to my life: Over-committed, unable to sit still and not think about things that need to be done, too many life distractions, too many shopping options open on Sunday, smartphones constantly chirping that we have a new text message or email, etc.

One of my favorite books that I read and discussed with my adult Sunday school class when I was leading it was John Ortberg's book "The Life You've Always Wanted." In it, Ortberg tells us that in order to have a meaningful, balanced life, we should "ruthlessly eliminate hurry from our lives."

That's a phrase that has stuck with me since I first read it, even if I often fail to follow it's advice. In other words, stop and smell the roses from time to time, rather than cursing the driver in front of you for not pushing the upper edge of the speed limit.

Good advice. I think I'll add it to my to do list.

Making time to rest

(Part 2 of three parts about slowing down and getting some much-needed rest)

It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep. -- Psalm 127:2

As I write these words, I have been up since 5:15 a.m. and am starting to feel the effects of a long, but productive day.

After (mostly) getting over the unnatural hour I had to rise on a Saturday morning, I had the pleasure of traveling two hours in a van with four members of my church family to our annual Wyoming Sub-district Conference in Douglas. It was a good learning experience for the group, plus I got to see several people I have become friends with through several years of conference involvement.

On the trip to Douglas I prepared to lead our youth group devotionals tomorrow, and on the way home (while someone else fought the Wyoming wind and drove the van; thanks, Dave!), I proofread the second draft of my wife's master's prospectus. Since arriving home around 5 p.m., I have discussed the paper with Melissa, had dinner with my family and written several church newsletter articles about upcoming activities.

Not bad, right? Yet it seems like there's still so much left undone.

But I told myself I would try hard during this Lenten season to actually honor the Sabbath and take a day of rest each weekend during this 40-day period. I already failed in that promise last weekend, but after a full day today, I plan to try to honor it tomorrow. (More about Sabbath rest tomorrow afternoon.)

Time to live out the words of the first verse of a hymn we sang during worship in Douglas this morning, "Come and Find the Quiet Center:"

Come and find the quiet center in the crowded life we lead,

find the room for hope to enter, find the frame where we are freed:

Clear the chaos and the clutter, clear our eyes that we can see

all the things that really matter, be at peace, and simply be.

Here's to one day of rest out of seven -- not just for me, but for all of us!

Why am I so tired? I blame the time change

(Part 1 of three parts about slowing down and getting some much-needed rest)

"Man, I wish I could sleep another hour or two."

That's what I think nearly every single morning as I drag my tired backside to the bathroom to prepare for another day. But why am I always so tired? This week, at least, I'm blaming the time change.

Why am I so tired? It can't possibly be because I stayed up too late last night (insert activity: watching TV, working on the computer, playing on the computer, reading, etc.). It can't possibly be because I'm getting up earlier than I need to so I can get to work and try to get ahead a bit (HA! Get ahead? What's that?).

Nope, I'm blaming the fact that we all "sprung ahead" an hour last weekend. I lost a whole hour's sleep! When am I going to get THAT back? (Oh yeah, this fall. But in the meantime, I'm sleep-deprived, man!)

And I have research to back up my excuse -- er, theory. An article on AOL News said this:

"In 2009, Michigan State University psychologists Christopher Barnes and David Wagner reported that there are more workplace injuries on the Mondays following that lost hour.

"The potential danger of daylight saving time aside, it is clear that the changes throws off our natural time-keeping rhythms. Till Roenneberg, a chronobiologist (this is no misprint) at the University of Munich, says that our internal clocks set themselves according to the environment. So, our natural chronometers keep time with the sun, not the alarm clocks sitting by our beds, and this is the main reason it is hard for us to adjust."

I'm busy all week, sure. I fill my weekends with busyness too. But I still think it's the time change that's causing me to be tired.

Just in case it's my behavior, though, I think I'll try going to bed a bit earlier each night this weekend and try taking it easy Sunday. Maybe Monday morning will be a bit easier as a result.

What does this have to do with spiritual reflection, you ask? Well, maybe a guy named Jesus even suggested that we take it easy a bit: 

And he said to them, “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. -- Matthew 6:13

Happy St. Patrick's Day! Enjoy this Irish Christian holiday

They say a day's not complete unless you've learned something new.

Well, I learned something interesting in youth group this past Sunday, thanks to a book our co-leader, Lindy, has about a variety of Christian questions, including the history of holidays. The focus this week, naturally, was St. Patrick's Day.

I don't know why I didn't know it earlier, but this Irish holiday has many Christian connections. The coolest fact was that St. Patrick used the three-leafed shamrock to explain the Trinity to the Irish people.

Here is some other information from Wikipedia:

Saint Patrick's Day is a religious holiday celebrated internationally on March 17. It commemorates Saint Patrick (c. AD 387-461), the most commonly recognized of the patron saints of Ireland, and the arrival of Christianity in Ireland. It is observed by the Catholic Church, the Anglican Communion (especially the Church of Ireland) the Eastern Orthodox Church and Lutheran Church. Saint Patrick's Day was made an official feast day in the early 17th century, and has gradually become a celebration of Irish culture in general. The day is generally characterized by the attendance of church services, wearing of green attire (especially shamrocks), and the lifting of Lenten restrictions on eating and drinking alcohol, which is often proscribed during the rest of the season.

Does that mean it was OK that I cheated a bit and had ice cream from a fast-food place after my teeth cleaning this afternoon? (Don't you just love finding a way to justify doing something "bad" after you've already done it?) You've got to get rid of that gritty feeling somehow, right? What better way than with ice cream?!?

Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone!

Born a worry-wart, die a worry-wart?

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? -- Matthew 6:25-27 (NIV)

The first time Jesus really "spoke" to me as I read his words in the New Testament was when I read the passage above from the Gospel of Matthew.

You see, I come from a long line of worry-warts. So throughout my adolescence and well into my adult life, I worried about everything: Will I get into the college I want? Will I have enough money to pay for college? Will I get a job when I get out of college? Will I have enough money to pay the bills? Will that cutie I want to marry say yes when I ask her?

I didn't realize it at the time, but Jesus was there with me to make sure the answer was yes when it was meant to be yes and no when it was meant to be no. (Unfortunately, the answer to "Will I win the lottery with this ticket I bought?" always turns out to be "Um, sorry, no." Bummer!)

I especially like the way Eugene Peterson interprets this lesson in "The Message:" "What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, the not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving."

Yet as comforting as Matthew 6 is, I still allow anxiety to get the best of me from time to time. (Born a worry-wart, die a worry-wart? I certainly hope not!)

Which, I think, is one of the best reasons for constantly reading Scripture. Because it's usually when I get overconfident and think everything is going well that God has a tendency to humble me or remind me that life's a series of challenges (a journey, remember?). None of them are insurmountable, with his help. And he doesn't want us worrying about whether things will work out OK. Instead, we are to trust in him and be reassured that he's always with us, regardless of what's happening at the time.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. -- Philippians 4:6 (NIV)

That horrible six-letter word

One six-letter word strikes more fear in the hearts of humans than any other.

No, it's not S-N-A-K-E-S, though that's probably a close second. Its' C-H-A-N-G-E.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm a creature of habit. I love it to be comfortable. I don't like to be challenged in most aspects of my life.

But, of course, there's nothing we can do to stop change from happening. That was abundantly clear throughout 2010 as I watched one staff member after another leave our newsroom for a variety of personal and work-related reasons.

I look around our newsroom today and see a lot of new faces. In the past, this fact might have struck fear in my heart. But as I grow older, I find myself more open to change as just a fact of life. And, in fact, the new faces and fresh perspectives on our staff can be quite refreshing. It's fun to see things through fresh eyes (especially events like Cheyenne Frontier Days, which changes very little from year to year).

I have my wife and mother-in-law to thank most for this new perspective. Right after we got married in 1993, my wife's job took us across the country to New York state. And since we moved to Cheyenne in 1998, we've lived in two different houses, including our current shared relationship with my mother-in-law, Linda, who always challenges me (in a good way) to think about life as a series of challenges, not obstacles.

Life is easier to deal with -- much less stressful -- when I roll with the change, rather than fighting it all the time.

Now if only I could get over that fear of snakes!

Striving for balance (on the Wii and in life)

One of my constant struggles is to maintain balance in my life.

Between work and family time. Between church volunteer time and personal time. Between healthy food choices and those delicious chocolate chip cookies that call to me from the kitchen counter. Between making time to go to the gym and walk an hour on the treadmill and spending that hour getting caught up on e-mail or other work at the office.

So it's probably not surprising that as I was standing on the Wii balance board in front of our TV over the weekend, my thoughts turned to more than just successfully navigating the Wii Fit Plus downhill ski slalom course.

Or finding the sweet spot during the daily fitness test that says I am perfectly balanced between my left and right leg and not walking in circles.

But what's the magic answer? Is there one?

Surprisingly, my Bible's concordance doesn't include the word "balance." Type "finding life balance" into Google, though, and you come up with 10,200,000 results, including websites offering "9 tips to help you live the life you desire," "5 Tips for Better Work-Life Balance" and "12 Rules to Find Balance in Your Life."

So obviously I'm not the only one who struggles with this problem.

The first list, which comes from the iVillage Pregnancy & Parenting website, includes the following summary of the problem:

"Juggling several roles is so common today. We are tired and often seem to be seeking a state of balance that is just out of our reach. Juliet Schor, author of 'The Overworked American' and a Harvard economist, reminds us that, 'the typical family puts in a thousand more hours a year today than they were 25 years ago.' Over eight million of us hold down two or more jobs. Work takes up so much of our lives. Working mothers seem to bear the brunt. They spend an average of almost two hours more each weekday and three hours more on weekends than their partners do in caring for their children and the house. Overworked? No wonder it seems so difficult to find a balance!"

The site's tips, by the way, are these:

1. De-stress.
2. Simplify.
3. Play.
4. Share the load.
5. Slow down!
6. Nurture yourself.
7. Stop procrastinating.
8. Focus on the positive.
9. Take charge!

Some good advice, but not as simple as this list may seem on the surface, right? Easier said than done.

And yet as difficult as it may be for me, my wife and our family, I can't help but think it's infinitely worse for single parents, those living in poverty, those caring for ailing parents while keeping their own families going, etc.

So my prayer today is two-fold: That, Lord, you continue to work with me to show me the way to a more healthy life balance. But that you especially be with those who need your presence in this regard even more than I do. (For example: The families of those missing or killed by the earthquake and resulting tsunami in Japan. Where's the balance for those people right now? It makes my challenges pale by comparison. Since most of us can't be there in person to help out right now, let's pray and be thankful that He is and always will be. And let's do whatever we can. Amen.)

Who do you say that I am?

Today's sermon, delivered by guest preacher the Rev. Rebekah Simon-Peter, was titled "Who do you say that I am?" Taken from Matthew 16:13-20, it is the question Jesus asks his disciples before Simon answers "You're the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the living God."

Which got me to thinking: If someone came up and asked me today who Jesus is, what would I say?

I wish I could say my answer would be similar to Peter's. Unfortunately, I think it would depend on the day someone asked me and the mood I was in.

I'm certain I wouldn't ever deny Jesus the way Peter did three times on the night before Jesus' death on the cross. (Of course, there's very little chance that I would face crucifixion if I say I'm his friend, either.) But what words would I use? Friend? Confidant? God made flesh? One-third of the Trinity?

All of these things are true, but my attitude toward Jesus differs from day to day. The honest truth is that some days I feel closer to him than others. And even when I pray, I'm not sure who I'm praying to -- God or Jesus. But since they are one and the same, does it matter?

All of this is just a long-winded way to say I wish I had a closer relationship with Jesus and could share all of my hopes and desires with him all day long. Maybe that's something we all wish for. Am I alone in this thought? I doubt it.

So my prayer today is that all of us may experience a closer walk with Jesus, our friend and constant companion. Amen.

Perfection is right in front of you

Thanks to my son sharing my geekdom, a small group of 11-year-old boys and I made the 45-minute drive to Fort Collins, Colo., this morning to watch TRON: Legacy at the second-run AMC theater there. It was the culmination of an overnight birthday party for Conner that also included watching the original 1982 film on DVD, playing his TRON: Evolution-Battle Grids game on the Wii with his new TRON special edition remote control, eating a special TRON-decorated chocolate-chip cookie, opening lots of TRON: Legacy toys as gifts and even participating in Mom's very creative TRON-themed scavenger hunt.

What does all this have to do with Lent, you ask?

Well, on this fourth day of spiritual reflection, one line toward the end of the film struck me as pretty profound. (And this was the second time I've seen the movie, mind you. I noticed several religious themes the first time, but didn't focus on this aspect before.)

Jeff Bridges' character, Kevin Flynn, finally comes face-to-face with the program he created years earlier to help him create the "perfect" computer world, C.L.U. This eternally younger version of himself pleadingly asks Flynn, "Didn't I do everything you asked me to do?" Flynn tells C.L.U. that yes, in fact, he did do exactly what Flynn asked him to do. And therein lies the problem.

"Perfection is right in front of you," Kevin Flynn says.

Perfection is right in front of you. Although he tells his son, Sam, earlier in the film that C.L.U. can't be allowed to escape The Grid into our world because "what's more imperfect than that?," the elder Flynn comes to the realization that his push for perfection ultimately led to his failure.

This is a hard lesson for many of us Type-A people to learn. But unlike Kevin Flynn, I continually remind myself that it's OK to come up short of perfection. It's even OK to totally fail from time to time.

If this journey called life is to have meaning and be more than a series of items checked off a "To do" list, we have to be willing to accept the failures with the successes -- to accept that life is less than perfect. Yet maybe life actually is perfect just the way it is -- warts and all.

Pretty deep lesson for a film many critics dismissed when it came out last year as being all about the visuals and lacking both in plot and dialogue.

(For more on the religious allegories in TRON: Legacy, see totallytawn's "Captain's Log" blog at http://totallytawn.wordpress.com/2011/01/17/tron-legacy-and-religion/)

Third Day weighs in

Often one of my favorite forms of personal worship and focus on my faith is through music. And sometimes I think the Holy Spirit speaks to me through the words of a song played at just the right time, when I need it most.

One of those moments occurred last night as I played Third Day's "Revelation" album on my iPod in the car on my way home from work. The first track, "This Is Who I Am," contains the following lyrics (notes in italics are mine and not part of the song):

I'm a son of a good man (Love you, Dad!)
I'm the child of an angel (You too, Mom!)
I'm the brother of a wild one (Well, not as wild now as he used to be, though maybe this refers to my little sister ;>})
And I'm looking for direction (Aren't we all?)
I'm the lover of a beauty (That's certainly true. Love you, Melissa!)
I'm the father of blessings (Also true -- more than I can ever say)
I'm a singer of a love song (Not even close -- you DO NOT want to hear me sing!)
But is that all I'm good for?

This is who I am
This is who I am
So take me and make me something so much more
This is who I am
This is who I am
So change me and make me someone better than before

I'm a saint and a sinner (More the latter than the former)
I'm a lover and a fighter (More the former than the latter)
I'm a true believer, with great desire
I'm a preacher of grace, prophet of love, teacher of truth
I've fallen down so many times (Lotta truth in this song, isn't there?)
But here I stand in front of you

Take me as I am
But please don't leave me that way
'Cause I know that you can make me better than I am today (I certainly hope so!)

As we journey together through Lent, I know that God accepts us where we are, but I pray that the Lord continues his good work on all of us. I know he's far from done with me!

Blessings as you head into the weekend, and may God grant you Sabbath rest.

Lent, Day 2: Thank you, Rev. Sandi

Just a quick note today to say thanks to our pastor, the Rev. Sandi Dillon, for leading a very meaningful Ash Wednesday service last night.

After singing some hymns, reading some Scripture and delivering a good sermon, Rev. Sandi had everyone in attendance write one thing that is keeping them from a close relationship with God on a small piece of paper. My contribution: "Busyness."

Her husband, Jimbo, collected the papers, which she burned in a glass bowl on the altar along with some dried palm leaves from last year's Palm Sunday observance (which is traditionally the basis for the ashes in many churches, I learned Sunday in youth group).

She then invited us to come forward as we felt called to have the ashes placed on our foreheads in the form of a cross.

I left thinking about "busyness" and all of the other things that get in the way of a closer relationship with God, my family, friends, etc. And I couldn't help but tie it back to my need to focus more on the journey than the destination.

Thanks, Rev. Sandi, for being the conduit for the "a-ha" moment that the Holy Spirit must have known I needed.

Lenten reflections, Day 1

Originally written on Wednesday, March 9, Ash Wednesday:

Ash Wednesday: Time to give up the fast food for the next 44 days and add daily spiritual reflection time. As I asked my youth group this past Sunday what they were giving up and adding, I told them I would do it, so here goes.

But why do I have to give something up, anyway? About.com's Christianity page says "Lent is a time when many Christians prepare for Easter by observing a period of fasting, repentance, moderation and spiritual discipline."

Giving up fast food is far from fasting (though it might feel more like it by the end of April). I need to eat healthier and in moderation more anyway. And right after watching Morgan Spurlock's "Super Size Me" documentary in mid-February, I made a conscious effort to start watching what and how much I eat. So it's not much of a sacrifice. Plus, I can use the money I save to pay down some debt.

Yet I still long for those McDonald's french fries and Dairy Queen's Peanut Buster Parfaits from time to time. How will it be when I "can't" have them instead of voluntarily staying away from them?

But what about adding daily spiritual reflection time? When am I going to squeeze that in?

How about early morning before I go to work? No good. I'm a natural night owl, so I prefer to stay up later and get up later.

How about at lunchtime? That's what I'm doing today following a webinar at work. Since I can't get to the gym to work out today anyway, might as well type while I eat, right? (God, why did you create the concept of "multitasking"?)

Maybe after work? Possibly, but I often work past 7 p.m., have a night meeting at church or simply want some family time and then couch/TV time with my wife before falling asleep.

But isn't that selfish? If God's supposed to be my best friend and is always with me, doesn't he want me to give Him some time too? (Wait, I'm Methodist, not Catholic, so why do I feel so guilty?)

Add these thoughts to the fact that I have tried for years (unsuccessfully, of course) to set aside Sundays as true Sabbaths -- days when I don't "work" in the traditional sense. Days that aren't driven by "To do" lists and the hustle and bustle that the other six days contain. Days that aren't filled with church paperwork or work e-mails or thoughts of projects still unfinished.

Luke 10:38-42 says: "Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, 'Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.' But the Lord answered her, 'Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her."

How come I identify so strongly with Martha in this story? Is it my firstborn nature? My Type A personality? I WANT to sit in my big red reading chair and while away the hours lost in one of the dozens of books on my bookcases. So why can't I do it?

Lord, help me be a bit more like Mary this Lenten season and a little less like Martha. Maybe, just maybe, I can develop some habits that will go beyond the next 44 days.

Giving up fast food might turn out to be the easy part.

Or maybe not.

One Man's Journey (With a Purpose)

"Focus on the journey, not the destination. Joy is found not in finishing an activity but in doing it." -- Greg Anderson, bestselling American author and founder of the American Wellness Project

"The road of life twists and turns, and no two directions are ever the same. Yet our lessons come from the journey, not the destination." -- Don Williams Jr., American author and poet


The quotes above will be music to my wife's ears. For the more than 17 years we have been married, she has been telling me that I need to change my "destination thinking."

"Relax! Just enjoy the journey," she often says, in a variety of ways. My usual reaction: "Whatever, eternal optimist! Enjoy your own journey; I just want to get there already."

But now that I have entered the second third of my life (I'm 40 now; you do the math), I have to admit that she's right. Focusing on the destination is still important, of course. Otherwise, how would anything ever get done?

Which is why I titled this blog "One Man's Journey (With a Purpose)." My purpose, I have come to believe, is to serve God in any way he leads me. (On my computer monitor at work I have this quote from the prophet Mohammad taped up: "A person's true wealth is the good he or she does in the world.")

But constantly worrying about nothing but the outcome only leads to gray hairs and high blood pressure. Plus, if I don't stop to smell the flowers from time to time, I'm likely to miss a lot of important moments in life:

My son's smile when he makes a good soccer play or congratulates an opposing team's player on his good play.

My daughter's laughter as she quotes Jim Gaffigan or Jeff Dunham for the millionth time or pokes fun at her dear old Dad just to get a reaction from him.

Quiet conversation during a "date night" with my wife, just the two of us going to dinner and a movie together.

Reflective time with God, immersed in his holy Word, taking it to heart and applying it to my life.

Which is the main reason for starting this blog. As we enter the season of Lent, we're called to give up something as a reminder of Jesus' sacrifice on the cross for our sins. But this Lenten season, I took a challenge from a pastor in Denver to add something, as well. I'm giving up fast food (see the next blog entry, which I originally wrote yesterday, Ash Wednesday) and adding daily spiritual reflection.

It's my hope that this blog will serve as a way to reflect on those small steps in the remainder of my life's journey. After Lent, they may just be occasional reflections, rather than daily, but they'll be no less important. After all, it's about the journey, not the destination.

"To get through the hardest journey, we need take only one step at a time, but we must keep on stepping." -- Chinese proverb