Real Men Wear Sunscreen...

As I sat on a stool in an old fashioned soda shop in Apalachicola, FL listening to Lionel Ritchie sing "Stuck on You" during my recent family vacation... I realized that there are some things you do on vacation that you just don't do on normal days. A long standing tradition in our family is that we leave our watches at home when we leave for vacation. Time really doesn't matter. We declare it from the get go. We sleep late... well, I do anyway. I wear a hat almost everyday. If my wife doesn't want to wear make-up, she doesn't have to (and I might add that she looks amazing with no make-up. Seriously.) The rules of family vacation are just different. The pace is slower. The capturing of special family moments seems to slide up the importance scale a bit more. We make sure to relax and eat what we want, when we want. It's vacation.

With the exception of baseball caps and the absence of Lionel Ritchie, why aren't more days like vacation? I can only imagine that the stress levels would drastically fall. I often wonder what life was like in the "good old days"? When it took weeks to travel across country and days to cross the state. How simple life must have been. And why does the term "simple" have the connotation of poor and being without? I think we all need to take a big old break, take a few more deep breaths and relax. Why not enjoy the small things like sitting on the porch at night and watching for shooting stars? So, my deepest advice for America... slow down. Enjoy the ride. There's lots to see.

And as the title suggests, yes... I did wear sunscreen on my family beach vacation.

Binge Thinking.

Fads. Here today, gone tomorrow. Out of sight, out of mind. Why is it that we often don't think about certain things... that is until it seems a little more pertinent to our immediate situation? For example, what is the expiration date on your driver's license? I would be willing to bet that no one knows it without looking (except for those with self diagnosed OCD like members of my family). But once you realize that date of expiration is drawing near, then it becomes something to address. Or what about that little sticker you get each time you get an oil change. Are you really mentally aware of how many miles you travel between oil changes? If it weren't for those little stickers, maybe you might forget all together when you even got your oil changed last. There are so many things in life that we just tend to forget about until it becomes urgent.

What about our walk with God? I wonder if I am the only one that turns up the heat between me and the Lord whenever the heat gets turned up on me? Maybe you've noticed in your own life the tendency to think much more about Him when you sense the need for His intervention. Maybe you realize that He is not quite the center once thinks get shaky and you find yourself thinking about Him a little more often. Why is it we don't think about Him as much when things are going well? Why do we binge think during tough times?

I am realizing more than ever the dangers of binge drinking (which if you don't know means the excessive intake of alcohol during a short period of time) and as I think now I am also realizing the dangers of binge thinking. Lord, let me not neglect you during the easy days. Let me not forget You for even a moment.

By the way... have you changed the ac filter at your home? Have you changed the batteries in your smoke alarms?

n-da-pin-dance dae

for me... it's BBQ, homemade ice cream, all the family, fireworks in Homewood, buy one get one free bottle rockets and possibly a watermelon. Most of my life the 4th of July has been about everything other than celebrating my Independence. Even though as I have grown older I may have had more of an awareness about those who fought for my Independence and those who sacrificed, dreamed, believed and then kicked a little British booty but really it has been a simple and quaint acknowledgement at best of my true freedom and my amazing country. I imagine Independence is much like grace in that you really don't notice it unless you don't have it.

I can't imagine not having the freedom to choose who and how I worship but break it down a bit... how about not having the simple freedom to watch the news, or report the news, or even down to what I wear, drive, live? I can't even begin to imagine what life is like without freedom. I have absolutely no frame of reference to comprehend such a life. Or do I?

Spiritually speaking. God infused us all with the ability to choose, in a sense a freedom to make our own decisions. But on the flip side who wants to be independent from God? In the Bible it says that apart from Him we can do nothing. In my mind and my heart I would never consider living independently or away from God but what about my actions? Do they say otherwise? Do my actions tend to be those that I choose or the ones I feel He chooses? If I'm not careful here I can get a little confused. I love my Independence in one sense but I cherish even more my dependence. I thank God for options, however...

This 4th of July season I will celebrate two things. My Independence and my dependence. Happy BBQ day.

tiny miracles

I have often wondered why we don't experience more of the old school BIG miracles here in the good old USA. I have listened to way too many self-proclaimed theologians try to debate this issue and for me none them adequately make their case. Earlier this week I had the opportunity to go and speak to about 25 senior adults about The Foundry. After about 35 minutes of babbling chatter I sat down and a gentleman who appeared to be in his mid 70's stood and gave a brief devotion.

Near the end he told of an experience he had witnessed the day before. He had been called to the ER because a friend had fallen and had been knocked unconscious. When he arrived at the hospital he said he stood and softly prayed a very simple prayer that went something like this... "Lord, we commit him into your hands, please heal him." The man was quite delirious and coming and going out of consciousness. He was very physically shaken by his fall. About 15 minutes later the man suddenly popped out of his crazed state and was perfectly back to normal. In fact they released him from the hospital in no time at all and only a few short minutes earlier they were ordering every kind of test they could to find out what was wrong.

As the man finished his story he softly but forcefully proclaimed that God was still alive, walking with us and still performing miracles. The crowd that surrounded me erupted into an elderly applause. It resembled a quaint golf clap at best. I too joined in with my 11 seconds of amazing praise to the King of Kings for His mighty works.

Then as I sat there I wandered away mentally. Why is it that I just discounted a miracle? A supernatural intervention of the Lord Almighty and I dismissed it as a tiny miracle. Have I been so jaded that the normal everyday moves of God's Holy Spirit no longer move me? Will it take another "inside the belly of a whale" kind of moment to crank my motor? I have to imagine that I am not the only one that haphazardly clapped as you sat in a Sunday School class and listened to the testimony of a tiny miracle. Is there such a thing as a tiny miracle? Isn't a tiny miracle like a minor heart transplant?

Why is it that unless it is a raising of the dead we too often first respond with a skeptical attitude? Is it the church's fault? Is it my fault? Is the devil's fault? Let us NEVER forget that God is the same today, yesterday, and forever. There are no tiny miracles. Just ask those who have been on the receiving end of such miracles... and see what they say.

cultural diversity

This fine country of ours have often been referred to as a melting pot. You don't have to look very far to find someone that is exactly the opposite of you. Just yesterday I drove past two old men selling produce on the side of the road. At first I drove past but as I continued my drive I was intrigued by the two old birds and decided to turn around and check em out. As I got out of my truck and approached them they sat still in their folding lawn chairs, one in over-alls and the other sitting quietly as a trusty sidekick. I bought a watermelon and this seemed to give me an opportunity to talk. I think maybe I wanted to just talk more than I wanted the watermelon.

Anyway, they began to share with me a glimpse into their lives. The main guy, adorned in his finest Dickey's, began telling me the stories of his childhood. He was one of fourteen children (all from the same mother he added) and how he had worked on the family farm until his early 30's. He complained about the taxes he was having to pay on his produce and how "the man" was robbing him blind. He added some of the funniest (and dirtiest) jokes that I had heard in a long time. I stood with my watermelon and free tomato that he just wanted me to try and listened until I had to leave. He had other paying customers arriving and his attention quickly was re-routed.

As I drove home I thought about how different his life was from mine. We possibly shared the same opinion on taxes, a similar view on politics and who knows... maybe a resemblance on matters of faith. But we were still so very different.

I was reminded yet again how diverse our country is. I was even reminded how diverse our own lives can be. I was and am still challenged to embrace those who see through different shades this thing we call life. I hope my $6 contribution helps the old man out. Just a few minutes of conversation with him helped me in a great way to see that this is a big old world.

the small things.

disclaimer: the examples and statistics are not original to the author and are purely second hand at best. to verify... google.

I heard recently that in 1999 Ellen Degeneres participated in the first lesbian kiss on television. I remember the hype that preceded this event as well as the controversy that followed. I also heard that as a result of this "original kiss" that more than 20 prime time sitcoms directly involving homosexual relationships have aired.

Have you ever noticed that once you tell a small lie or as I like to call them... a fib... that it becomes easier to tell more mistruths? It is almost as if the first stretching of the truth is a gateway drug to many more. I have heard that for most professional criminals, their first crime was somewhat minor. It appears to me that there is a pattern.

That first breaking of the ice by Ellen opened the door for the subject of homosexuality to be displayed for the whole world. It was simple. A kiss. Not that I am condoning the show, the person, or the act but the point I am making is that the door was opened. Once the door is cracked open, the floodgates swing not too far behind. I have also heard that this is similar to the act of sin. Open the door and watch out! It reminds me of a virus. I tiny micro-element spreads throughout the body and quickly takes over and dictates the way we feel, the way we perform, the way we recover.

It's the small things that we need to guard against. Once the small pieces enter in... that's when the initial problems are born. In Psalms we are reminded to guard our heart because it is the wellspring of life. Looking out for the big things is a no-brainer. The area that I hear we need to guard against the most is the small stuff. We are told to not sweat the small stuff but I say... watch out for the small stuff because that is how the door gets opened. I'm just saying...

A Salute to Moms

Well, where would we be without moms? Answer: no where. We wouldn't be. I find it a bit funny that even as grown men we depend so much on our mothers. I have been so blessed to have almost 37 years with my mom. She is the strongest woman I have ever known. She is the most stern and compassionate woman all at the same time. She gives, gives, and gives. My mother makes every occasion a special one. From the amazing meals to hunting for Christmas presents. From Easter egg hunts to simple visits at a restaurant. Each time my family gathers... it is special, thanks to mom.

Then we marry and have children of our own. I wish I could understand the psychology behind men and their wives and their mothers. My mother knows me well enough to know when I need nurtured and so does my wife. My mother knows when I need encouraged, and so does my wife. My mother knows exactly how to treat me when I am sick, so does my wife. There's got to be something there. So, until I can figure all of this out, I just simply want to wish all mother's but especially my mother and my wife a Happy Mother's Day.

You both are simply the best!