home improvement anger

This afternoon I went to the local home improvement store to have an inch taken off of some blinds I had bought there for the girls room. There were two other customers in front of me having their blinds cut, and when it was finally my turn the employee kindly informed me that they don't cut the blinds I had bought, but they do cut this other kind that cost $28 more for the same size. So, after considerable internal struggle I decided to exchange the old blinds and buy the nicer ones that can be cut to the right size.

Following a 15 minute wait in the returns line I finally got back to the "cutting station" with my new blinds. As I walked up to the employee she looked at me strangely and asked if I wanted the new blinds cut. When I replied that I did she offhandedly told me it would 30 minutes before she completed two other customer requests and could get to mine. Before I knew it I was mumbling under my breath, "f***". Immediately I felt both guilty and ashamed. I'm not even sure whether or not she heard me but I had just let the granddaddy of all cuss words slip.

Now what was wrong with that? This is a line of thought I've thought about and discussed off and on over the years. (Here's a post at Just Matt that I joined in on) I guess what it comes down to for me is not that the word is that bad but that the condition of my mind and spirit at that point is just out of control. I was basically walking around one little inconvenience away from erupting and flying off the handle. To me, that is what's wrong with cussing. It's being out of control of my words and actions. I have much less of a problem with intentionally using strong language (provided it's not derogatory toward another person). I don't think uttering those sounds and syllables is really that bad. But what's bad to me is what my heart looks like in that moment. I want to learn the secret of being content in any and every situation. Then, a 30 minute inconvenience would not be the proverbial "straw that broke the camel's back" but something entirely different. And I would be a man of peace.

real life CSI

Let me tell you, in real life, CSI is not that glamorous. Our house was broken into this morning while I was at work and my wife was at the grocery store with two of our children. I would say we were burgled but the violator did not actually take anything that we can tell. He/she rifled through every drawer in the house and strew the contents on the floor but as far as we can tell did not take any electronic equipment, jewelry, or even a brand new credit card that was sitting on our desk. Nothing at all. Either they were just looking for cash (in which case they definitely picked the wrong house) or we are spies and they hoped to find some of our secret documents.

Above is a picture of the window they chose to enter through. I would show you the finger-printing dust but it is boring (I don't see any finger prints) and it is everywhere, carpet, door handles, the whole nine yards.

book summary: Daring To Draw Near

Though it would fall into the "books on prayer" category, this book is about a lot more than prayer. (though I learned a lot about prayer as well) What I loved about the book was the reflections at the beginning of each chapter on biblical passages. White does a masterful job of letting us peer into these encounters between men and God. I really appreciate John White's perspective on scripture. Essentially, he takes a different biblical character for each chapter to reflect on and learn about prayer. Along the way you look at Abraham conversing with God over the fate of Sodom and Hannah asking the Lord for a child, and Job covering his mouth as God reveals himself to him. We look at how David had both reverence and joy in his dancing before the Lord and Paul's measured theological intercession for the Ephesians. The book ends by looking at the recorded prayers of Jesus during his last 24 hours.

I would definitely recommend this book to others. It's not a manual on how to pray but is more intended to look at the prayers of very real people and their response to God's initiative. Along the way, we learn to see God more clearly. It is kind of like a book that blends prayer with discipleship. I think it is one that I will reread in the future.

dying

Dying well is a lost art. Most of us are so scared of death that we don't want to even think about it much less consider how to die well. But how can you live well if you're not in touch with your oncoming death. The truth is, our days are limited, they will not last forever. How will we spend them? There will be a point in time when we take our last breath and the canvas of our lives will be finished. But what will it say? Or to be more theologically correct, Act 1 of a great play will be finished. The better Acts are to come but this one will surely be finished. Our spirits will be disconnected from our bodies until they are returned to us fixed, repaired, and glorious.

But how will we die? Will have to be dragged off the stage after that first Act or will we gracefully exit, excited about what is to come? I think this is one of the serious downfalls of living in a society with the technology to keep us "alive" even after we lose consciousness. We are much less in touch with our own mortality and so we don't learn how to die well. Also, we are seldom with people when they die. People don't consciously die in homes anymore and so few of us get to see someone die. I don't say that with morbid fascination but just to say we don't have many models. When I was a kid I remember thinking that I wanted to die in my sleep. I was so afraid of the pain involved that I figured going in your sleep is the way to go. If the Lord sees fit to take me that way then I won't complain but tonight I hope that when I die I am able to be with those I care most about and consciously commit my spirit to the Lord as Jesus did. Has anyone ever died as well as he did? Here was an innocent man, taking on the punishment that others deserved, experiencing the cruelest form of death that has probably ever been invented. While dying, he asks for the forgiveness of his tormentors, asks his friend to care for his mom, offers eternal life to those dying with him, goes through hell and separation from the Father, comes through it and with joy (I believe) says, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit."

My days are numbered though I do not know the number. I want to spend my remaining days living intentionally. I want to make them count for something. I can trust that whatever the Lord has planned for my life, I will not die until its complete. That's a good feeling. I hope and pray that in death I can bring honor to the one who makes life worth living.