Head-dibs

I was about to begin with, “remember when we were kids and loved to swing at the playground?”   Then I remembered that some haven’t grown up yet and the swing has as much attraction now as it did when we were six. Anyway, remember when we loved to swing? That thick black plastic strip could heat up to nuclear temperatures in summer, but that didn’t stop us, did it? Ok, the heat made us think twice about the slide, but not the swing. The swing seat could be flipped over and it would not burn our bottoms so bad. We could tolerate hot swing seats on our butts, but not that summer sun-baked slide. Young Elementary School teachers would run and scream for us to avoid the slide—but we were too small to question the wisdom of the slide in the first place. How many years of sliding did it take until slides became shorter and made of plastic that gets no cooler in the summer sun? And then they put those bumps and ridges in to slow the descent, causing our little ones to burn their buns on ...

Like a string of firecrackers on the Fourth of July, the Gospel of Mark strings together very a concise and very explosive account of the life and ministry of the Lord Jesus Christ. The gospel opens with quite a pop: “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ the Son of God.” (Mark 1:1) When Mark was inspired to write this gospel, the Lord Jesus Christ had already been crucified, resurrected and ascended back into heaven. Reading through the book of Acts one is able to grasp what the world was like as the news of Jesus and His followers spread. Today there are many ideas about who Jesus is and what He did and the same was true in the ancient world. Mark wants his readers to know unmistakably who Jesus is, and this is what he means by “the beginning of the gospel.” The way  “gospel” is used today is not the same as in the ancient world. Presently, we underscore the trustworthiness of a testimony as “the gospel truth.” We describe the integrity of a friend as “gospel.” Ma...

“ In the middle of life it happens that death comes and measures a man. The visit is forgotten and life continues. But the suit is made, quietly .” (Thomas Transtromer, Swedish Poet) Many of us remember that scene of Karl Malden acting as Reverend Ford in the 1960 movie "Polyanna," preaching an abridgement of Jonathan Edwards’ famous sermon, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.” This powerful message reminds us of the suddenness with which death comes, and Transtromer reminds us that death has already sized us up. "The Universe does not know we are here," Harlan Ellison says. It just grinds on and on and on and we are in the midst of the machinery--just don’t get caught in the mechanism. The Universe is not a personality; but, as Ellison echoes Twain in another assumption: something is wrong with the Universe! What is wrong is death. Did God make a screwed up machine? Is God a monster? If so, then why is the Universe still idolized? Death was n...

I should like to imagine for a moment what I would be if I were not busy being what I am at this moment. This is not the place I intended to be in many respects (geographically, professionally, spiritually, emotionally, etc.) and though I am able to accept where I am at present, and knowing how I got here, I can say “this” was not my intention; but is better than I imagined. Don’t get me wrong. I like where I am now and there are not many opportunities in the world today that make such a place possible. I like the quiet, but I also like helping people and I like being busy. I like academics and reading and study. I get to do all this and many combinations of all of the above; but, this was not my plan. Long ago, way back in the back, back, back part of my mind was an inkling of a writer in me. While I enjoy the exercise, I daresay I am far from being a writer (the saying is that one is not a writer until he or she is told one is a writer). I suppose I would pound or scratch my fin...

I’ve been in all these Southern United States and nearly forgot one trip to Wisconsin when a small child. Other than the sunflowers, I don’t remember much as I slept my way through three other states. I will never forget the sunflowers but could not say if they were in Iowa or Illinois. Regardless, I’ve never seen so many in my life. I disctinctly remember listening to Neil Diamond on the radio singing some song blue and Donna Fargo (or was it Tanya Tucker?) pop her foot in the whole USA. I’ve made a couple of trips out of the states: the Grand Cayman islands (just as they were beginning the tourist boom about thirty years ago) and Africa. Airport agencies today add so much quality to the overall travel experience, one find difficulty deciding where to go by plane. Getting fire-hosed by CNN or Fox News or Headline News at each gate makes my confidence soar while waiting for flights, catching up on the latest in terrorism. Thank you, Dallas, for not choosing the Big Brother d...

"What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. This doesn't happen much, though."   (J.D. Salinger, "The Catcher in the Rye) I once read somewhere that writing a book is the closest a man will ever come to delivering a child. The source is correct. This particular contribution will not turn out to be a book of any size despite the amount of labor that goes into writing it. Nevertheless, it is still close enough to child delivery. Permit me for a moment to stain this page with the blood and water of this effort. Composition is a fascinating exercise, allowing one to speak to a page for an audience of one or millions, for old times’ sake or for all time or for a waste of time. The reasons are myriad why one would write and while one may today say, “this is the reason I write,” he may find another reas...

I am considering taking this blog on an adventure by redirecting the content that will be posted. Not certain how long I will be on this journey. I will be working through some writing excercises, so if you read something that is less "devotional" or "spiritual," don't be alarmed. I do have a broader range of interests you know, so have a little fun with me. "Loosen up!" they tell me. Should you desire to keep reading, I appreciate any and all feedback!

"If you treat it [a child] as a little wild beast to be tamed, or as a pet to be played with, or even as a means to save you trouble and to make money for you (and these are our commonest ways), it may fight its way through in spite of you and save its soul alive; for all its instincts will resist you, and possibly be strengthened in the resistance; but if you begin with its own holiest aspirations, and suborn them for your own purposes, then there is hardly any limit to the mischief you may do. Swear at a child, throw your boots at it, send it flying from the room with a cuff or a kick; and the experience will be as instructive to the child as a difficulty with a short-tempered dog or a bull . . . . There is a point at which every person with human nerves has to say to a child 'Stop that noise.' But suppose the child asks why! There are various answers in use. The simplest: 'Because it irritates me,' may fail; for it may strike the child as being rather amu...

How wonderful to start the day with Dr. Hamilton’s devotional thoughts from Hebrews reminding us that Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever. “There is nothing more certain than uncertainty,” he shared, reminding us that change will happen—like it or not. If I were to compare my plans for my life and the current state of my life in terms of “wins” and “losses,” I recognize that my “losses” are really my “wins,” and vice versa. My plans, my “wins” included being a successful symphonic conductor and making enough money that I should not have to think about it. I also had no plans concerning friends or family and gave no thought to education (beyond that which was necessary). I lost all that. Instead, I am privileged to conduct souls to Christ and make so little money that I don’t have to worry about it. I have more friends than I ever dreamed and a HUGE family. I also have quite an education, both academically and experientially. All “wins.” What Saul met Jesus on the Da...

Funny how things start out, seeing now how things wind up. When I was a child I wanted (like most boys) to be a fireman, a policeman or a cowboy and all of life consisted of anticipating summer and Christmas. As a teen, I fell in love with literature and music, but the music bug bit harder and deeper. Summertime was filled with moonlit meanderings induced by the Bard but the deep weeping of Samuel Barber’s Adagio or the soul’s breath released from Bach’s pipe organ was life itself. My love for music was so deep that once I was punished by being grounded from music (I seriously do not remember what I did to receive such punishment) except for that required for school practice. I was devastated. That was most horrible six weeks of my entire life. Regardless, I was looking forward to spending the rest of my life standing on the podium before a full orchestra, pouring my life into those sections and drawing out music. I would conduct the sunrise.   Life has not gone according t...