Thursday, April 11, 2013

Providence In the Thrift Store (…or How I Came To Read Don Miller) (09-14-2006)



I started a blog at Blogger because I changed email addresses and forgot my password at Wordpress. Most of the stuff I've written over the years is kind of dumb, but some of it might be worth preserving. I'm copying it over here so that when I forget my login info again, I can just copy it from this one place.

The Thrift Store is a veritable treasure trove of wonderful finds. In high school, I found quite a few offbeat shirts, board games, and other miscellaneous knick knacks. More recently, I have found some good CDs and a matching set of Tiki mugs. I remember, back in the day, a friend finding the most wonderful and prized possession ever: a spear gun. I was quite covetous of that, and held out hope for such a great goodie every time I went. Every time, I have walked away slightly disappointed, but with a small trinket or two.
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Naomi and I have joined an on-line book discussion club. I’m not quite sure how this is going to pan out logistically, but our first book assignment is “The Pilgrim’s Progress” by John Bunyan. Yesterday, we went out to shop for the book, among other things. We were heading to Books-A-Million, but en route, we stopped at a large Thrift Store.

Unlike BAM with its nice, divided sections of alphabetized authors and an organizational system that would make Mr. Dewey at least a little proud, the Thrift Store has implemented a much more sophisticated system for arranging its books. It’s too complex for me to even begin to comprehend, so to my mind, it looks like a chaotic smattering of overstuffed shelves and overflowing cardboard boxes. I knew I had my work cut out for me, but with a mustard seed of faith in an angenda of my own creation, I prayed a little prayer that God would help me find the book, if, indeed, it was there.
My eyes skimmed a myriad of Danielle Steele masterpieces and Stephen King epics. I moved many a self-help journal aside in order to see the titles of the Harlequin romances that were hidden in the dark shadows of the shelves.

I prayed once more, and almost immediately, my eyes fell upon “Blue Like Jazz” by Donald Miller…right next to the Qu’Ran (I caught a sublte glimpse of the organization in place). Mr. Miller has raised quite a few eyebrows in my tiny sphere of influence with his controversial take on the church. I had been considering this book as an addition to my “(Might-read this one once I’ve read everything on my) Must-read” list, but the $14 price tag had been a very strong deterrent.

This wasn’t exaclty the result I had hoped for, but in its own little way, I saw this as an answer to my prayer. Or at least a bit of a sign. At $2.40, this book may or may not be a good deal, but is one I have been curious about for quite some time. We shall see how it goes.

A bit deflated, I continued browsing the aisles for Bunyan’s book. I knew I was retracing my steps several times over, but I was still determined to find the book…to no avail.

Naomi and Nathaniel rounded the bend from the clothes section to the books/toys/electronics section to come gather me up (I later found out that I had spent 25 minutes or so perusing book titles). I told her that I had searched through the books, high and low, and I showed her the soon-to-be-mine copy of Blue Like Jazz. I explained that I had looked everywhere for “The Pilgrim’s Progress” but had had no luck. I had given up on my quest to find The Pilgrim’s Progress. It wasn’t that God had failed me, or even that my faith had failed me, but I often wonder what it means to have faith. I struggle sometimes with the the differences between placing faith in God and His goodness and simply having faith that God will give me favorable circumstances.

It really was ok that we hadn’t found the book here. God never guarantees that I will find all the things I am looking for on my schedule, and besides, we were still heading to Book-A-Million, and they would surely have the book. Also, I was kind of excited that I had found Blue Like Jazz for a reasonable price. My curiosity and cheapness are often at odds, but they have found many compromises in the Thrift Store. Slightly disappointed, mostly at myself and my silly, whimsical designs, I grabbed the shopping cart, and my eyes fell…fell, as it turns out, right on to a copy of “The Pilgrim’s Progress” by John Bunyan.

Good News (09-14-2006)

I started a blog at Blogger because I changed email addresses and forgot my password at Wordpress. Most of the stuff I've written over the years is kind of dumb, but some of it might be worth preserving. I'm copying it over here so that when I forget my login info again, I can just copy it from this one place.

I feel I would be remiss if I did not share the greatest news of hope somewhere within all of my blogging efforts (I know, I know, it looks like absolutely no effort goes into anything I write)

But first, let me share some bad news (well, hardly news to those who know me) and some confessions. I am not a good person.I have murder and lust in my heart, and I often hate my fellow man (especially in heavy traffic situations and other minor inconveniences).I am impatient and quick to judge.I am a legalist and a hypocrite.I cannot measure up to the laws I invent for others, but that’s okay, because I have a different set for myself (and I can *usually* meet those, except in those rare circumstances.Good thing there’s loopholes for those).If I had the opportunity, I would rob from the rich and poor to give to myself.I am a liar, a cheat, and a scoundrel, but I put on a good act.Most of my acquaintances think I’m pretty decent fellow and a respectable guy, but that just shows that I’m also sneaky and deceptive.Even the things I do right, I do wrongly…I do good deeds to make myself look good or feel better.I give to charity and help old ladies across the street to ease my troubled conscience.With the law of love written on my heart, I continue to hate.

The good news of it all, though, is that, in the eyes of the God, I am forgiven and covered in the righteousness of another.I am seen as blameless and good.Since I am seen, not as I really am, but rather as one righteous and good, I am free to screw up any number of times down the road (it’s a good thing), because I am free from the burdens of my wickedness; and I am free — finally — to repent of my wickedness and pursue righteousness.

Jesus Christ, Son of God and Son of Man, came to earth as our incarnate savior.He lived a righteous and blameless life above reproach on all accounts, and then was crucified as a sacrifice to atone for the sins of men like me.After three days in the tomb, he rose again, and then later ascended into heaven to sit at the right hand of God the Father.

I am forgiven, because I believe in His name and upon his sacrifice.I am justified, not because I am good, but, rather because he is good, and through grace, by faith, I am considered righteous before God the father.

Jesus died as an atoning sacrifice for this world of sinners like me, and offers himself up to those who will believe in Him.Trust in him as your hope and stay, and you will be counted as just and will be reconciled with God.The burdens of a guilty conscience and the worries of past, present and future mistakes are relieved by this eternal hope of forgiveness.

That gives me hope in this dark and broken world.

Service With a Smile…and a Vacuous Stare (09-14-2006)



I started a blog at Blogger because I changed email addresses and forgot my password at Wordpress. Most of the stuff I've written over the years is kind of dumb, but some of it might be worth preserving. I'm copying it over here so that when I forget my login info again, I can just copy it from this one place.
 

This week, I am engaging in some self-improvement. My company has “encouraged” all of us to participate in a two-day training course to teach us to be more service oriented. Don’t get me wrong, I am all for a heightened focus on customer service. I have been a customer often enough to appreciate the value of good service. Most of my trips to Wal-Mart remind me that our culture is not nearly service-oriented enough. My complaint is not about the motive of the course, but rather the application, and the poor practices that we’re being taught.

For example, one group exercise challenged us to “think outside the box a bit”.So, join me now for a whimsical look at the business world as illustrated by a zany series of questions and answers centered on the animal kingdom

Q1: How do you get an elephant in a refrigerator?

A1: You open the door and put him in.

Moral: Look for the simple answers.

Ah, yes, the simple answers. Ignore those pesky concerns about possibility and plausibility. The rules of physics and the demeanor of wild animals just complicate things. Obviously, when trying to put an elephant in the refrigerator, all one has to do is merely open the door and put it in. How could anyone wish for a more complete solution?

Q2: How do you get a giraffe in the refrigerator?

A2: First, You take the elephant out…

Moral: There are consequences to your actions.

Okay, we have already violated rule one. I don’t want to nit-pick (well, maybe I do), but nothing like pre-existing limitations on space stopped us from hypothetically opening the door and putting the elephant in. Aren’t we complicating matters by insisting that the elephant be removed prior to the insertion of the giraffe? Oh well, moving right along

Q3: A meeting is called for all of the animal kingdom. Who doesn’t attend?

A3: The giraffe, because it’s in the refrigerator.

Moral: Use all available information.

Okay, now Im catching on; I’m starting to see the precedent. Each rule violates all of the previous rules. Obviously we had to save this one until after the first rule, because, otherwise, there would be no way we could have had the cutesy illustration (somehow I doubt all available information would have allowed us to merely open the fridge door and put the elephant in).

Q4: There is a river known to be inhabited by deadly crocodiles, but you need to get to the other side. How do you cross the river?

A4: You swim across, because the crocodiles are at the meeting.

Moral: This class is a complete waste of time.

The obvious and simplest solution would be to simply will yourself across the river (Just remember the acronym P.O.C.E.T.: physics only complicates easy things). Remembering the consequences of our actions, swimming will probably get you wet and potentially ruin your disposition; we should probably at least *look* to see if there’s a bridge. Using all available resources, I would probably check the schedule and attendance roster before simply assuming that the crocodiles were still in their important meeting.

After gleaning all of the useful tidbits I could from the animal illustration, I tried to force an attentive expression as I stared blankly into space until the next group exercise. For this exercise, we were given a series of facts concerning employees, airlines, destinations, and flight days. These factual statements were to be used to derive a summary of “who went where” for our hypothetical boss. Using every piece of information available, it was fairly simple to logically derive the information and fill in the nice chart provided with blanks for the names, airlines, destinations, and dates. The twist (you knew there had to be one) was that our boss only asked “Who went were?” If we filled out the other information, then we did too much. Of course, we couldn’t have gotten the answer without using all of the available information. They did make an important point though: Bosses HATE overachievers and complete pictures. I know my boss would be extremely upset (I would probably even get fired) if I handed him a report of Who/How/Where/When when all he asked was Who/Where. That is extremely unacceptable. We should probably all learn a thing or two from this illustration Destroy all superfluous information. Make your boss ask you for it, and then go to the trouble of re-creating it from scratch.

This will be quite applicable with one of my currently assignments I am supposed to research the feasibility of such-and-such to determine if it is a viable solutions for this-and-that After this terrific class, I not know that instead of risking my job by presenting a solution that explains the pros and cons, I need to simply send him an email with either “yes” or “no” in it. I will wait for him to ask for more (unlikely, I’m sure), and then I will try to tackle those assignments with a clean slate as they are asked of me.

So as I continue down the path of my career development, I will do my best to apply my new-found insight into the realm of customer support I will answer their concerns as simply (don’t get bogged down with the complexities of things like possibilities) and with as little information (Yes and No are ideal) as possible.< If they want me to put an elephant in their refrigerator, I will say no problem, as I open the door to first remove the deadly crocodiles.

The Annoying Thing (09-14-2006)

I started a blog at Blogger because I changed email addresses and forgot my password at Wordpress. Most of the stuff I've written over the years is kind of dumb, but some of it might be worth preserving. I'm copying it over here so that when I forget my login info again, I can just copy it from this one place.
My wife is a softie when it comes to the kids.  I can say that because I am not a softie when it comes to the kids.  I can say that because I can hold out just long enough to let her cave in first; that way I can cross my arms stolidly and be the non-softie one.  She never has to know how close I come to caving in, because that’s irrelavent.  What’s important is that she caves in and I do not…

The Annoying ThingThis past Friday evening during our semi-regular family trip to the local Target, Naomi gave in to the tempation to indulge one of our children.  Nathaniel never asks for much (of course he speaks in syllables more than words) but he fell in love with a little singing/dancing stuffed animal called “The Annoying Thing”.  This thing “sings” the Crazy Frog song while waving his hands around wildly.  As luck would have it, the annoying things were half off (go figure!), and it was hard …for my wife .. to resist buying Nathaniel the toy.  Every time we walked by one, he smiled and reached, and as soon as the magic button was pressed and the song began, Nathaniel would dance and giggle.  I have to admit it was pretty adorable (good thing my wife is such a softie)

As far as annoying things go, though, I must say this one is a bit of an exaggeration.  I have three small children around the house, and I have seen and/or received toys much more deserving of the title than the little stuffed monster we bought for Nathaniel.   Rumor has it classical music exposure is supposed to do wonders for small children, but I find it hard to believe that the 14 different off-key beep-boop-beep renditions of Fur Elise we have as the theme song to our living room are really making my children any smarter.

As far as educational (and Sanity-preserving) toys go, The Annoying Thing actually gets my approval more than many of the Mozart ringtone-spewing toys out there.   Plus, as Naomi points out, if Nathaniel develops a clinginess to this critter, he will be less likely to be picked on than the boy with the soft pink blanket.  No one is going to mess with the kid with the crazy-eyed, blue bug wearing a black motorcycle jacket.


Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Evangelical Hypocrisy

Christians are hypocrites.   As much as I would like to defend our honor and suggest that's not the case, the more I'm around a group of Christians (or even just alone in the car), the more I'm convinced that people who dismiss us as hypocrites aren't too far from the truth.   It seems there's no getting around it, and while I wouldn't go so far as to suggest that's it's a noble trait, by any means, I do think some good can come from our failings as long as we can be honest and humble.

One thing I think we have going for us is the fact that we aren't alone in our hypocrisy, and I think this is key.   Not because it allows us to start throwing stones back at other people or mentioning rubber and glue in the same sentence, but because I think it opens up the opportunity for dialog much like  Paul's on Mars Hill.   Except instead of identifying the unnamed god, I think we can take a look at the misunderstood foible, and echo Francois de La Rochefoucauld's pithy analysis: Hypocrisy is the homage vice pays to virtue.

I would contend that hypocrisy is a near universal trait.    Everybody, it seems, is guilty of failing to live up to the standards he esteems.  Common solutions often involve changing the standard to a conveniently contextual one (at least as it applies to us and our situation) or slipping a subtle thumb on the scale when it comes to self-evaluation.  

But this raises the inevitable question: If we're able to manipulate morality with such ease, then why are we hypocrites in the first place?   If I am free to simply live by my own codes and doctrines, then why in the world, would I choose rules that are hard for me to keep?

The answer is that deep down we know we are obliged to a higher authority.   We don't always agree with that higher authority, and we do what we can to kick and fight against the rules...trying to redefine them to fit our lifestyles and wants.    The funny vanity of our vanity, though, is that even in defining a morality specially-crafted for ourselves, we overestimate our own discipline and end up having to tweak things from time to time, because we're not nearly as noble as we thought we were.   Even according to our own definition of what it means to be noble.  

The Christian recognizes and understands the authority of God, and -- at least on good days -- yields to the fact that it's not always agreeable to us.  We have the potential to be the biggest hypocrites of all, because we proclaim such a great standard...and yet we're such great sinners.  

The universal condition of sin pitted against the high standards of a holy God explains hypocrisy of man, but it doesn't excuse it.  And this is why we need to also proclaim the message of the beautiful grace of a substitionary atonement.    The standard is high, but it's been kept...not by us, but by Jesus.   The penalty has been paid for the breaking of the law...not by us, but by Jesus.   Our message, then, is not one of judgement and condemnation, but of hope.  

We preach a message of perfect love...any yet we fail to love like we should.   We preach a message of grace...and yet we're quick to treat one another harshly.   We still proclaim a message of high standards, and we still fail to live up to those standards.   So we're still among the greatest hypocrites around, but that can be ok...as long as we are honest in our self-awareness, and remember that the message we're proclaiming is for people just like us.

Monday, April 8, 2013

The Continuing Story of a Talladega Bungalow

To keep things interesting, Naomi received a letter from the sellers (complete with lawyerly letterheards) asking for an explanation as to why she didn't buy the house.  The letter mentions that if she doesn't provide said explanation, the sellers will be forced to sue her for a breech of contract. 

I'm thinking the agent didn't pass along the information that the house is currently an un-insurable fire-hazard.  

On the plus (???) side, they are apparently trying to hold Naomi to a version of the contract that the agent never passed along to her.

Who says life isn't fair...

The Cause (and Effect) of Being Aloof



Amelia is enrolled in the Blind School (AIDB) in Talladega, AL.   We live in Moody, AL, which is around 40 miles from the school.    She’s been living in the dorm through the week most of the year, but it’s been hard on everyone – her and Naomi especially – to have her away from home so much of the time.   When we mention how hard the dorm life is, well-meaning people often simply recount how hard it was for them to leave home after high school.   I can appreciate the sentiment, I guess, and I don’t think people realize that it’s a little insulting to compare the experience of a young adult leaving home to embark on the journey of the” Rest of Your Life” to a child being sent to live away from her parents and siblings at age 10.   But it is a little insulting.   Or maybe not so much insulting as orthogonal; it’s a bad analogy and seems like a poor measure of sympathy.

We’ve tried enrolling Amelia in the local public school system, but with her poor motor skills and lousy eye-sight, she fell way behind the other students in practical terms even though accommodations were made to keep her on track as a formality.   She also spent hours every night struggling with homework (including things like handwriting) as she continued to fall behind everyone else in her class.   We’ve tried home schooling, but we lack the resources to know how to best help her, and it ends up taking her 3-4 times as long to do her assignments as it does her siblings, and she ends up requiring a whole lot more attention than they do.    I’ve tried to make a point of bursting the arbitrary bubble of “fairness” that kids (and adults) seem prone to appeal to, but homeschooling efforts with Amelia have led to frustrations of all parties…and she’s continued to slip behind.

I have been very pleased with the progress she’s made at the blind school.   They seem to have the resources and experience to help a child like Amelia.  But it’s 40 miles from home, and continuing to live in the dorm is not a viable solution.   I’m not sure that the morning and afternoon commute is a viable long-term solution either.

All that led to us deciding to shop for houses in the Talladega area.   This wasn’t a decision we took lightly, or even one that we made favorably (just because you believe something may be the right decision doesn’t mean you necessarily like it), but it seemed like the most workable solution to a non-ideal situation.    We hope to rent our house for a few years while we live in Talladega, but since that’s not a certainty, and we didn’t want to jump into a new pile of debt, the plan was to cash out my 401-K in order to just buy the house out-right (see parenthetical comment above, again).    Through an unfortunate series of events and, what I believe to be, incompetency on the part of the real estate agent, that sale fell through at the last minute.    I’ve been resigned to the fact that we lost the earnest money, and I’ve been penalized and heavily taxed for the 401-K cash-out, and the whole experience has been rather disheartening.

And when I give people the quick summary of events, I’ve been “comforted” by the fact that, sure, it was an expensive mistake, but at least I’ve learned an important lesson.   Maybe I’m obtuse, but I’m not really sure what lesson it is I’m supposed to have learned – it wasn’t as though, I naively thought trading my life savings for a run-down, second home in the middle-of-nowhere was going to be a hunky-dorey dream come true, and even if that lesson has been learned, we’re still in the same frustrating position we were in a month ago.  Words like those offer the same level of comfort that I find when people compare their passing homesickness during the otherwise halcyon days of college to a disabled third grader being shipped away from her home to live with strangers week after week after week.

And so, I tend to be aloof.   I don’t typically share my problems, because I don’t want pithy, false comforts to difficult situations that, while may not be truly unique, do feel a bit out of the ordinary.

I suppose that knife cuts both ways, though.    As long as I maintain only a fairly superficial level of dialog, I guess I can’t expect much more than fairly superficial response.   Without divulging the nuance of the situation, I guess it’s not reasonable to expect a very nuanced understanding.