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Aug 24
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PPM – Climbing Rainbows

Posted on Monday, August 24, 2009 in Stories

On select Mondays, I’ll link to a post that I consider powerful. These will be a roundup of stories from around the web.

There is an old hymn that had some lyrics changed.  The words went from “I climb the rainbow in the rain” to “I trace the rainbow through the rain”.

I like the imagery of the first version much better.

Still, I can’t shake the fact that a rainbow is impossible to climb.  It’s looks pretty, but there is no substance to it.  How can you climb a rainbow?  You can struggle your heart out, but you won’t get anywhere.  You might even get to the base of the illusory thing only to see it disappear.  Climbing rainbows sounds nice and all, but I can’t think of a greater exercise in futility.

There is a scripture in the Bible that talks about groping for God.  Grope for God.  Can you picture this as a slogan on Christian T-Shirts and Bumper Stickers?  When I hear the word “grope”, God isn’t the first or even second or third thing that comes to mind.  And, doesn’t this sound more than just a little bit ridiculous?  How can you grope for what you can’t see?  How do you touch what you can’t feel?  How can you reach for something that isn’t there?

I suppose it only makes sense that the senselessly blind and brokenhearted man who wrote about climbing rainbows was also groping for the promise of a tearless morning when all that is wrong, bad, evil, sad, crushing and sick would be washed away.

* * *

It’s been awhile since I’ve done one of these PPM’s.  It’s been so long because I haven’t found much that I consider worthy of your time.  This week’s story changed my mind and can be found here.

Jami Dawn Kennedy recently had a baby daughter.  The little girl’s name is Jo.  As they remember Joe Kennedy, I have the feeling that both of them will be climbing rainbows.

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Aug 12
0

Young Love

Posted on Wednesday, August 12, 2009 in Quotes, Stories

She was a girl going on thirteen as I was, with a mouth that turned up at the corners. If we ever spoke to each other about anything of consequence, I have long since forgotten it. I have forgotten the color of her eyes. I have forgotten the sound of her voice. But one day at dusk we were sitting side by side on a crumbling stone wall watching the Salt Kettle ferries come and go when, no less innocently than the time I reached up to the bust of Venus under my grandfather’s raffish gaze, our bare knees happened to touch for a moment, and in that moment I was filled with such a sweet panic and anguish of longing for I had no idea what that I knew my life could never be complete until I found it. “Difference of sex no more we knew / Than our guardian angels do,” as John Donne wrote, and in the ordinary sense of the word, no love could have been less erotic, but it was the Heavenly Eros in all its glory nonetheless–there is no question about that. It was the upward-reaching and fathomlessly hungering, heart-breaking love for the beauty of the world at its most beautiful, and beyond that, for that beauty east of the sun and west of the moon which is past the reach of all but our most desperate desiring and is finally the beauty of Beauty itself, of Being itself and what lies at the heart of Being.

Like all children I had been brought up till then primarily on the receiving end of love. My parents loved me, my grandparents, a handful of others maybe, and I had accepted their love the way a child does, as part of the givenness of things, and responded to it the way a cat purs when you pat it. But now for the first time I was myself the source and giver of a love so full to overflowing that I could not possibly have expressed it to that girl whose mouth turned up at the corners even if I had the courage to try. And let anyone who dismisses such feelings as puppy love, silly love, be set straight because I suspect that rarely if ever again in our lives does Eros touch us in such a distilled and potent form as when we are children and have so little else in our hearts to dilute it. I loved her more than I knew how to say even to myself. Whether in any way she loved me in return, I neither knew nor, as far as I can remember, was even especially concerned to find out. Just to love her was all that I asked. Eros itself, even tinged with the sadness of knowing that I could never fully find on earth or sea whatever it was that I longer for, was gift enough.

Then, as unforseeably as it had begun, it ended. On the first of September, Hitler’s armies invaded Poland, and on the third, England and France declared war on Germany. The rumor soon spread that the Germans had plans to capture Bermuda for a submarine base, and all Americans were required to leave. It happened very suddenly, and in the haste and confusion of it, I never even knew when she left or had a chance to say goodbye. The Monarch and the Queen were painted gray for camouflage, and on the Queen, I think, with the portholes blacked out and no one allowed so much as to light a match on the deck after dark, we set sail for a reality that we were forced, with the rest of the world, to face at last.

- Frederick Buechner, The Sacred Journey

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Jul 6
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PPM – Time after Time

Posted on Monday, July 6, 2009 in Stories

On select Mondays, I’ll link to a post that I consider powerful. These will be a roundup of stories from around the web. Please contact me if you have ideas for future editions.

Columnist J.A. Adande had this to tweet after Sunday’s sporting events:

Enjoy days like Sunday, with Roger Federer and Tiger Woods both on top of their game. They won’t last forever.

There is nothing especially profound about this statement. Of course nothing lasts forever. It doesn’t always seem like that, though. Oftentimes, it seems that things will always be the way they are.

Some things change so slowly, they hardly seem to change at all. I’ve never seen my fingernails grow, but they do get a bit long sometimes. Somehow, they go from being clipped to needing to be clipped again. Time seems to pass so slowly, but it still passes.

I can’t notice any changes in how I look from day to day, but I see pictures from the past and can’t believe how young I looked. My not being able to tell a difference doesn’t mean that nothing has happened.

And, oftentimes with life, things don’t seem to be going anywhere. Still, often without even realizing it, things do change.

My favorite singer/songwriter had an old song that never made it to one of his albums. He wrote about the wave of emotion that unexpectantly overcame him as he drove through the town he grew up in. He doesn’t sing the song anymore and the lyrics are nowhere to be found, but a few of the lines went something like this:

And it seems to me the earth turns so quiet, we pretend it’s standing still. And it’s time I learned that it’s time to live and there ain’t no time to kill… I saw the days of my youth, so bright like a Monticello Moon that waxed and waned and went away too soon. But the moon has come and gone, so I’m thinking I’ll get along. The moon has come and gone, so I had better be moving on.

It’s not good to get stuck in the past, but I do think that looking at the past can teach us a lot about enjoying the present. After all, today could be the day that another day you will tell stories about and long for.

Here is this week’s post.

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Jun 29
1

PPM – Barely Hanging On

Posted on Monday, June 29, 2009 in Stories

This week’s post is written by a guy who is quickly becoming one of my favorite writers.  Kelly Clarkson has provided the intro:

Seems like just yesterday
You were a part of me
I used to stand so tall
I used to be so strong.
Your arms around me tight
Everything it felt so right
Unbreakable like nothing could go wrong
Now I can’t breath no I can’t sleep
I’m barely hanging on…

It is written for those who are doing all they can just to hold on.  It also for those who have already let go.

Here is this week’s post.

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Jun 22
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PPM – The Least of These

Posted on Monday, June 22, 2009 in Stories

Dear Friends,

Our second installment of PPM comes from a blogger named Amber. I stumbled across her blog one day while looking for lyrics to the song “Swept Away” and was very impressed with her writing.  Since then, we’ve sort of become Internet friends.  I had this same post linked a while back, but I don’t think many people had a chance to read it and linking to it again. Here is this week’s post. I think you’ll agree that the story has a lot to teach us all.

In case you missed it, here was last week’s post.

Please contact me if you have an idea for a post that might be appropriate for this space. This could be from your personal blog or another blog that you read.

“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’” – Matthew 25:40

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Jun 15
1

PPM – Help in time of need

Posted on Monday, June 15, 2009 in Stories

Now that the website has (finally) been fully integrated, it’s time to roll out some new content.  I’ve decided on a new feature that I’m calling “Powerful Post Monday” – or PPM for short.  On select Mondays, I’ll link to a blog post that I consider powerful.  These will be a roundup of stories from around the web.

Our first post comes from a friend of mine who plays basketball and writes movies.  He’s one of those guys who you want to get to know now in order that you can say that you followed him before he became famous.

His post is titled “The First Time God Failed Me”.  I don’t want to give too much away, so I will simply say that I never would have linked to this story if I didn’t think it was more than worth your time.  It was also part of the inspiration for the new section of this blog.  Here is his post.

Please contact me if you have an idea for a post that might be appropriate for this space.  This could be from your personal blog or another blog that you read.

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Mar 7
0

Food for thought

Posted on Friday, March 7, 2008 in Stories

When my father was young he met an even younger girl and started calling her “Toots”. She had dark brown hair and strong teeth and worked baking bread in a bakery. Unfortunately, she thought he was old, crazy, poor and somewhat funny looking. He knew that he had to find a way to win her over, so he did the only thing he knew how to do. He started making her treats. Lots of them. Because she brought so much color to his life, he made the treats the same color as her hair. His longstanding confection eventually won her over and she became stuck on him just like his treats stuck on her teeth. He got so good that he made a business out of it. One thing led to another and pretty soon Sugar Daddy married Tootsie Roll and they had Sugar Babies. Now, isn’t that a sweet story?

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Feb 8
0

It’s a hard knock life

Posted on Friday, February 8, 2008 in Stories

“I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.” – John 14:18

Little orphan Annie has been a source of hope and inspiration to millions spanning across the world throughout time.  Ushering words of wisdom, hope, and good cheer, she reminds us that there is, indeed, another day. As we find ourselves living lives of struggle in the midst of a winter that never seems to end, we can learn from her simple, childlike faith. Let us recall how we were once orphans who were bought with a price and have been adopted into a royal family. We look to a better and brighter day when our trials will be a distant memory.

Ok, I don’t really write like that but I thought it would be fun. Let’s take a look at this story using scriptures:

Annie was looking to and longing for a better day: “Instead, they werelonging for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.” -Hebrews 11:16

Annie believed that this day would come: “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see… And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.” – Hebrews 11:1-6

Annie took comfort in thinking about how good the future will be: “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” – Revelation 21:4

Annie had simple trust: “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” – Matthew 18:3

Annie brought joy to others despite her circumstances: “A cheerful heart is a good medicine.” – Proverbs 17:22

Annie was rescued: “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.” – John 14:18

Annie was adopted: “He predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will” – Ephesians 1:5

Annie was treated like royalty: “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” – 1 John 3:1

Someone (Jesus) cares a smidge if you’re in an orphanage. It’s a hardknock life, but that isn’t the complete story. Somehow, the hard knocks will be worth it in the end:

“Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirswith Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed.” – Romans 8:17-18

Oh, and when you got ready this morning, I hope you didn’t forget something. You’re never fully dressed without a smile :)

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Dec 15
1

I will be your neighbor

Posted on Saturday, December 15, 2007 in Musings, Stories

I continue to eat up my book on Mister Rogers. I love that guy. I love him because he loved me. No, I never did meet Mister Rogers and did not know him personally. But for 30 minutes a day, every day, he poured out his heart to me. Every second of his show was a carefully planned expression of care. He was a thin and fragile man and the only thing big about him was the size of his heart. He talked about slowing down in life. He talked about loving your neighbor – regardless of that person’s status or social position. He was so genuine that when he said on his show that he loved me… I really believed him.

Kids don’t really have a great sense of time. When our family drove long distances, I didn’t know how long an hour and a half was. I did, however, know how long a Mister Rogers episode was. So, my mother would tell me that we were 3 Mister Rogers episodes away. I understood that and I believe that Mister Rogers understood me.

There is a story in the book of how whenever someone stole something that belonged to Mister Rogers, they would return it to him with an apology note that said something along the lines of, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this belonged to you”. How could you steal from Mister Rogers?

When a man’s ways are pleasing to the Lord, he makes even his enemies live at peace with him (Proverbs 16:7). Actually, Mister Rogers treated everyone so well, I’m not sure he had any enemies. The more I think about it, I don’t think he was weak and fragile. A gentle tongue can break a bone (Proverbs 25:15) and he was full of love which is the most powerful force in the universe.

When people think of Christmas-time they often think of gifts. Mister Rogers once said that the best gift you can give someone is your honest self. For a half hour every day, he gave me his whole attention. He gave me his vulnerable, simple, honest self.

Mister Rogers was a fine imitator of another one whom we love because he first loved us (1 John 4:19). I have no doubt that God used Mister Rogers in a powerful way. Watching his show gave me a better idea of what Jesus is like. Kind. Compassionate. Humble. Full of love and care.

Mister Rogers has a new place of residence now in heaven. One day, I will once again be his neighbor.

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” – Colossians 3:12

Oct 9
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Keeping your Heart

Posted on Tuesday, October 9, 2007 in Musings, Stories

May 22, 2007. That was the day things would change. It was the day of the NBA draft lottery where the order of the upcoming draft would be determined. As a miserable Celtics fan, I looked forward to this day for so long. They had been atrocious for the last 15 years and now they were going to get a stud. All those years of losing would make it worth it. The Celtics were going to get a top pick and would become relevant again!

They didn’t even need the number 1 pick (Oden). The number 2 pick would have worked just as well (Durant). There was about a 40% chance they would get the first or second pick. The worst they could do was 5th, but there was only a 12% chance of that happening. Things had been bad for so long that surely something good had to happen. I was optimistic. “Pumped and jacked” as old Patriots coach Pete Caroll would say. I took my study partner away from our preparation and headed to the breakroom at my workplace. The pre-lottery show went on forever and I was about to die with anticipation. Finally, things got rolling. The man at the podium started the countdown from 12 to 1. He announced:

14. Clippers
13. New Orleans…
6. Milwaukee
5. Boston

I couldn’t believe it! They only had a 12.4% chance of getting the #5 pick. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, the worst case scenario came true! My buddy tried to console me as we went back to studying, but how can you console someone who endured 15 years of his favorite team sucking and would now have to put up with another decade of rooting for a crappy team (see 1997 lottery/Tim Duncan). Over time, the Celtics had gone from being one of the most storied franchises in NBA history to being a joke. Celtic pride turned into Celtic embarrassment. I was never going to give up on my team, but, at the same time, it wears you out rooting for a team of losers every year. I was a cursed fan living a wretched existence. Things had changed. The Celtics were no longer good. They were bad. Very bad. And that was something I was just going to have to deal with.

Fast forward 4 months and everything has changed. In my mind, there was no hope for team, coach, players, franchise and organization. Danny Ainge somehow managed to pull one brilliant move after another out of his rear end. Kevin Garnett and Ray Allen are bonafide studs and have teamed up with Paul Pierce in the quest for Green17. The games have sold out and the Celtics are all over the news! Wow!

The Bible mentions a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years. According to Mark, “she had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse” (Mark 5:26). I’m sure that after 12 years of suffering, she was ready to throw in the towel and give up. It’s easy to have faith for brief periods of time, but to suffer like that for 12 years… However, she saw Jesus and thought, “If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed”. The Bible notes that “Suddenly” her bleeding stopped and she was freed from her suffering. After 12 years, it all ended. All at once. Just like that.

Now, obviously my plight as a Celtics fan can’t compare with the suffering this woman had to endure. If the Celtics never won another game again, I still could live a very happy life. The point is, though, that there is hope for the future because in a moment everything can change. I’m sure that this woman felt her suffering would never end. In an instant though, it was gone. In the meantime, God carries us along and uses the pain and tears for His glory.

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. – 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

Pay careful attention to the comments 45 second in.

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