Spelunking

I have gone spelunking exactly once in my life, though I have tried my hand at spelling, lurking and catching an occasional lunker, none compare to the act of spelunking.  Spelunking is in no way a combination of, nor has any association with, any of the aforementioned.

Spelunking is the act of crawling around in dark muddy caves.  It received its name from the Latin word “spelunca” which when translated to English means…cave. Very creative.

My one day adventure in the realm of “caving/spelunking” occurred in 1998 when I took a group of High School Students from the Chicago area across the state of Illinois, into the corn and swine infested state of Iowa where we entered into Maquoketa State Park. 

In the midst of the Iowa farmland, there exists an adventurer’s haven, where 13 caves lay waiting to be explored by 15 middle schoolers.  Despite being only 23 years old myself, I knew enough of the dangers of unsupervised middles schoolers, that I laid down some clear ground rules.

Rules:

1.       No one explores a cave alone

2.       No one explores a cave without a flashlight

3.       No one explores a cave without extra batteries

4.       No one let’s Jimmy out of their sight.

Every group has a Jimmy…no further explanation is necessary.

Because we had a Jimmy in our group…we stayed together the entire time.  We entered several caves together, exploring the rock formations and nooks and crannies.  I remember one cave in particular.  The cave orifice-d about four and a half feet off the ground and was only about two and a half feet in diameter.  To enter the cave you had to get a boost from someone below or a pull from someone above.  Once our entire team had made it into the entrance we began to crawl, as there was no space to stand.  After crawling approximately 30-50 ft, the cave opened up into a great expanse where the entire team could stand and wander and explore. It was really quite astounding.

After a few minutes, Jimmy said, “We should all turn out our lights at the same time.”

It seemed a safe enough task, so I agreed. Once all of the lights had been extinguished, the blackness consumed us.  Never had I experienced such an overwhelming and complete darkness in my life.  It was incredible.  Then Jimmy said, “Man! Could you imagine if we were like stuck in here…and we didn’t have any lights at all…and we didn’t have any extra batteries…and we couldn’t find the entrance or find our way out?”

That was a heavy and sobering thought.  We would be stuck.  The idea struck me as an incredibly hopeless situation.

In Matthew 25:1-13, Jesus speaks to the disciples about being ready for his return.  He uses a parable that speaks to the dire nature of what it would be like to find oneself un-prepared for his return.  The imagery of being stuck and unprepared reminds me of how it felt in that cave with no sense of hope.

May we find ourselves to be prepared and ready for the return of Christ and not stuck outside of the closed gate with unprepared lights.

 

Graduate

Today spent the day celebrating our daughter’s graduation, by hosting a grad party in the form of an open house.  We enjoyed a wonderful time with many family members and dear friends.

It was far more than a one day excursion however. Leading up to the party we spent hours upon hours working on every aspect of the house.  We cleaned the interior and sharpened the exterior, including…as you may know…the washing of siding and the trimming of the lawn and reworking the landscaping.  We cleaned spaces in the house that no one would likely see...unless the occurance of an unlikely tornado forces us to find shelter for 100 people.  Additionally, when you add in the hours of decorating, planning and selecting photos, to total sum is somewhere between 2 and 1 million hours of invested work.

At one point in our preparations Sarah and I scheduled a “date” time, by eating donuts at the bakery while planning the food menu and making the shopping list. 

Today as I was carrying the crock pots to the serving tables I couldn’t help but consider, I wonder what we would do if we were not ready.  What if we simply chose to not cook the food, or chose to not put it out on the table?  What if, we didn’t chill the drinks…or even buy the drinks?  What if we neglected to order the cakes?

I don’t really have the answer…except, that to consider "not being ready" for the party would have been absurd!  It wouldn’t make sense.  We knew that guests were coming and so to not be found ready would have been nonsensical.

Yet, I wonder, if I feel as ready for the arrival of Jesus? Certainly being ready for the return of Jesus has nothing to do with having my house ready or food prepared and desserts ordered. Being ready for Jesus is all about putting our faith in him and being found faithful.

Jesus speaks extensively about being ready for his return in Matthew 24:32-51. 

May we be found ready and faithful as we await the return of our King!

 A Lemon

When I was a young child, I remember my grandfather always trying his hand at new things. Not necessarily learning new skills, but rather, finding new ways to, “make a buck.”

“Ken! Why is there a big yellow van in the drive way?!,” my grandmother questioned.

“JUST TRYING TO MAKE A BUCK!,” he bellowed back…he always bellowed.

“How much did this ‘buck’ cost us?”

“IT WILL PAY FOR ITSELF!”

He was frequently purchasing items at auctions and garage sales and turning around to sell them for a prophet…sometimes.  If he had lived in the Social Media era, think of what he could have done with a Facebook account…probably nothing good…

At one point he invested in a vacant building on the East side of Wadena, Minnesota and opened up his own antique shop.  I am not sure if this broadened his ability to “make a buck,” or simply sent him in a great need to make some bucks as he continued to buy antiques and knickknacks to place in his shop.   He purchased a wide variety of items including old phonographs, baker’s cabinets, antique desks and decorative vases.  I remember one of the more unique “vases” he brought home from an auction.

“Oh what a unique vase!,” my grandmother cooed.

“YEP, JUST NEEDS A LITTLE CLEAN UP, TO GET THE BLACK BURNED CHAR MARKS OFF OF IT!”

“Mom, that’s not a vase,” stated my visiting uncle while holding back a half smirk…”It’s a bong!”

Since cannabis was not yet legal in Minnesota in the late 80’s and early 90’s that little treasure never made it into his Why Not Stop In Antiques shop.  Yes…he named it himself.

To haul all of these wonderful treasures he invested in the previously mentioned large yellow cargo van.  The van gave him nothing but trouble from day one.

I still remember him bellowing through the blue tobacco smoked air of the dining room, “ROSE! IT LOOKS LIKE I BOUGHT A LEMON!!”

My grandmother had a way of just ignoring him and continued to provide us fresh baked cookies in the kitchen while he ate his own smoke flavored marshmallow crèmes while chain smoking his marlboro’s

“I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN WHEN THE SOLD IT TO ME!” he continued when my grandmother didn’t acknowledge him, “THE DASH LOOKS LIKE THE LAS VEGAS STRIP! EVERY LIGHT IS ON IMAGINABLE!!”

We all have times of regret.  Sometimes we call it buyer’s remorse, like when we buy a “lemon” or a bong that we can’t sell and will only lose money on.  Other times we experience it when we don’t execute a task like we knew we could have or should have. Still other times, like yesterday, when you put off replacing the brakes, only to find that before you get to the State Track and Field Meet, they are grinding like a locomotive stopping for a cow stuck on the tracks.

In Matthew 24:29-31, Jesus continues to provide signs of his coming.  He also begins to reveal the regret and mourning that will be experienced from those who do not put their faith in Him.

May we come to find ourselves NOT regretting.  Rather, let us put our faith in Jesus today.

 Packing

It has been just over a year since our daughter moved 1,200 miles south to Georgia.  I still remember the preparations for that day.  I spent weeks getting myself ready for the move and I wasn’t even going to be one of the travelers.   Each day I would wake early and immediately begin my packing training.  I would open up my old laptop and launch the vintage Tetris app and begin stacking blocks, section by section, faster and faster.  After these weeks of grueling workouts the day before her departure arrived. I took my position before the 2008 Ford Fusion, I cracked my neck and commanded, “Bring me the luggage!”

With the ear-worming Tetris theme music rolling between my ears, I twisted and shifted the boxes, suitcases and hair dryers to fill all possible spaces. Once finished, I sat down with my wife to begin stage two of the preparations.

Sarah and I laid out the maps of each state that would be traversed before us.  With highlighter in hand, we plotted and traced every road which would be taken. I quizzed her on the route, including where she and our daughter would be spending their night in Louisville, KY. 

Once all of the prep work was completed, I loaded to two most precious packages into the ruby red sedan, my wife and our first born child. 

At this point these two women pulled out of the drive way to endeavor the 21 plus hour journey across the country.

I am reminded of their journey as I read Matthew 24:15-29.  Here Jesus delivers a number of clues that he wants us to be made aware of on our life journeys.  He does not give us every detail.  Even as my wife and daughter knew the clear route that they were to take, they were not aware of the obstacles that they would face in the form of torrential rains, road construction and unexpected detours.  Yet, they knew what they needed to know. 

Jesus does not give us all of the details, but he does reveal clearly of what we are to expect.  We are to expect challenges and an eternal hope for those who trust him in this journey.

May we come to find comfort in the journey that lay ahead, keeping our eye on the eternal hope and not on the unknown details.

 Motivation

 

There are some moments where I struggle to find motivation…and there are other moments where motivation seems to run in my veins.  In fact, even within the span of a few hours the dynamics of motivation can change.  This is not a new phenomenon.  Even as a child the degrees of my motivation would ebb and flow like the tides.

“Ryan! Clean up your toys in the living room!” My mother snipped.

“But I’m still going to play with them!” I retorted. 

“They have been laying there for three days!”

“That’s ‘cuz GI Joe is currently a prisoner of war in Siberia and he hasn’t found a way to escape yet!”

“I am pretty sure if he doesn’t find a way out of his cell now, he is going to find himself drawn upward into the nether regions of Hoover’s Wind Tunnel!”

“I’ll do it in a little bit, I’m picking up the chocolate chips I spilled all over the kitchen floor.”

WWWHHHIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRR!!!!

“No! Mom wait! I’ll pick it up!”

Fear is certainly a powerful motivator.  We are motivated out of fear of discipline, fear of loss of acceptance, fear of retaliation, fear of letting others down, fear of getting fired, fear of failure and many other facets.  As strongly as fear can motivate us, I have become convinced that love is an even more powerful motivator.  

Now when my mom calls me up to come over and lift something heavy or shingle a roof, I don’t say “yes” out of fear of her vacuuming up GI Joe, I say “sure…I’ll send your grandson Isaac right over.”

I was struck this week when I was reading Matthew 24:14, and Matthew 28:18-20. Here we find what is known as the “Great Commission.”  It is the moment that Jesus gives the instructions to the church as to what our overriding role is to be.  We can certainly receive this as a command, since Jesus himself is laying the burden to believers to fulfill this obligation. 

As I contemplate, I consider the question, “what makes me choose to obey this instruction”?  Is it solely that I am looking for Jesus’ approval? Certainly, I want Jesus’ approval, but honestly, that is not what connects with the deepest part of my soul.  Is it fear of consequences from God? If I am honest, there is part of me that wrestles with that.  My conclusion is that the great compelling for the commission comes from the deep love that God has for us and effectively our love for Him as found in 1 John 4:10, “This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.” When I begin to see all that Jesus has done for me, I want to do all that he asks me to do for Him.

May we come to be compelled to share the abundant love of God to others because of his abundant love for us!

 Birth Pains

I am the father of four wonderful children; therefore I know firsthand what kind of pain is entailed with labor.  Despite what you are thinking in relation to my gender, I can assure you that labor pains feel exactly like someone is ripping the flesh of your arms off with long pointy fingernails while screaming violently into your ear.   Sounds awful, am I right?  I can assure you…it is!

My poor wife has had the paradoxical blessing of long labors, some lasting as long as 31 hours.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to sleep when your wife is in pain with contractions? Just when you start to nod off, a contraction would hit and either the verbal agonizing of my wife or her claws into my arm would wake me right up. 

I remember when we went into the hospital to birth our first child.  We arrived at 11:00 a.m. for the scheduled induction.  My wife was harnessed onto the gurney and given an IV for the Pitocin to begin to force the labor.  Our birthing classes demonstrated how surreal of an experience childbirth can be.  We expected to be able to go for calming walks, sit in rocking chairs or bounce on an exercise ball.  None of this was an option as my wife had an IV tower strapped to her arm and an armed nurse standing guard with a clipboard and a sedative. 

The initial excitement felt at 11:00 a.m., began to wane after about the 6^th hour, and more so, after the 7^th…the 8^th…the 9^th…the 10^th…the 22^nd…and the 28^th.  The laboring and contractions just kept coming with seemingly no effect.  Finally after well more than 24 hours of contractions, back massages and vending machine hamburgers, the doctor finally told us that she thought it was time to start pushing that baby out.  Sarah pushed for an hour and then finally…nothing.  She pushed for two hours…nothing.  After Sarah had pushed for 3 yours, the culmination of hope arrived.  Our daughter Hannah was born and all of my pain was worth it…the wounds on my arms eventually healed but my hearing has never been the same since.

We would go on to deliver 3 more children.  Since that first experience we learned what to expect thereafter, and each time we were not disappointed.  Long painful deliveries followed by the culmination of hope resting in our arms. 

Jesus speaks of birth pains in Matthew 24:1-14.  In this context however, he is not referring to the arrival of a new baby, but rather the arrival of the end of the age and the coming of the King.  Here Jesus reveals a challenging list of hardships, but encourages his followers to understand and remember that these are just the beginning.  A baby cannot arrive without the painful contractions that precede it. Likewise, many things must precede the second coming of Jesus and the return of the King.

May we come to understand that the sufferings we see today are just the birth pains that precede the great reward of the return of our King!

 Hens

Mothers are really quite extraordinary. Most mothers seem to have a combination of super powers akin to those evidenced by members of both, the Justice League and the Marvel Universe.  For example, my own mother seemed to have the incredible ability to draw the truth out of her children much like the works of Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth.

“Ryan! Did you eat all of your supper?”

“I sure did! Why would you ask that? Those potatoes hidden under my plate must have just fallen there by themselves.  I didn’t put them there…OK! You got me! I did put them there! I pushed them off my plate and then mashed my plate on top to hide them, so that you would think that I ate all of my supper!...Can I still have a cookie?”

“No.”

The difference was that my mother’s Lasso of Truth was also invisible.

Additionally, my mother also seemed to have the powers of super speed, super strength, super flexibility, super reflexes and super hearing.

“Hmm. What do you suppose Ryan is doing?”

“I don’t know, why do you ask?” Dad responds.

“I think I hear something.”

“What do you hear? I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly! Ryan! Get down from that stool in the kitchen and don’t steel any cookies! I put the cookie jar on the refrigerator for a reason!”

“How did you know that I was trying to sneak a cookie?”

“I could hear you thinking!”

Mothers have exceptional hearts, which seem to feel and love and empathize on a deeper level than most.  When a child is hurt, that child longs to be comforted in the arms of the only ones who can seemingly make the hurt go away with a word or a kiss…a mother.  Mothers care and they protect and they sooth the souls of the ones whose paths they cross. 

There is an incredible contrast found in Matthew 23:13-39.  Here Jesus refutes the actions of the religious leaders.  Seven times he offers up woes to their behaviors and actions and attitudes.  Jesus points to them as examples that should NOT be followed.  After these seven accusations, Jesus turns the table and reveals his own deep, loving and even motherly care for people.  He speaks of his longing to gather the people as a hen would gather her chicks.

May we come to care and to love and to lead as Jesus does…and perhaps as our mothers have as well.