Daily Eggs

In 2003, my wife and I took a group of 23 people to Ciudad Mier, Mexico. This was not our first “rodeo.” We had each participated in several international missions experiences, some together and some individually.  This one however was unique, as to the fact that one of our team members was 3 months pregnant.  What made this excursion even more personally challenging was the fact that this pregnant and hormonal team member…was also my wife…and…we were celebrating our 3^rd wedding anniversary.  We have always enjoyed taking trips for our anniversary…like when we took 21 students to Columbus, Ohio on an overnight bus ride, not to mention the occurrence of lodging in a sewer flooded dorm room at a Mexican orphanage.   

Until this season in my life, I had been unaware of the dietary demands of a pregnant woman.  In the weeks leading up to this immersive cultural experience, I had taken to learning to minister to my pregnant wife.  Some nights I would head out to Perkins at 11:00 p.m. for fried cheese sticks and chocolate shakes, and other nights it would be to Subway for a ham and cheese sandwich.

“Why can’t I just make you a ham and cheese sandwich?” I would ask. 

“Because I want mayo!”

“I can put mayo on it…that’s not a prob…”

“I WANT SUBWAY MAYO! OK?”

“Yes, dear.”

In this event, we were approaching the Rio Grande and the U.S./Mexico border and we made a final stop in Texas.  I tended the two 15 passenger vans, adding fuel, checking oil and kicking the tires of the two vehicles and an 8x12 foot trailer packed with luggage, tools and instruments.  While I ensured the vehicles to be travel worthy, the rest of the team entered the convenience store to purchase any last minute snacks.  I was just closing the hood and counting heads, when our ministry coordinator, Rick, approached me in a panic and cried, “Ryan! Your wife needs you!”

“What!? Why!? What’s up?”

“I don’t know! But she is standing in the middle of the store crying!”

“What did you say to her Rick?”

 “Nothing!...Really…Just that if she can’t find anything to eat here in an American convenience store I don’t know what she is going to do when we get to Mexico!”

“Hmmm…apparently they don’t have Subway mayo.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

I went inside and found my wife standing in the middle of the store revealing all emotions known to mankind.  I went to her and attempted to sooth her…mostly unsuccessfully.  We navigated the store and finally were able to purchase a number of items to hopefully help satisfy her prenatal impulsions.  With our experience in cross cultural opportunities we felt confident in what we would encounter.

Our first meal at the orphanage was a breakfast consisting of unseasoned scrambled eggs and runny refried beans, followed by a supper of unseasoned eggs and runny beans.  The next day’s menu was different, as it consisted of runny refried beans and unseasoned scrambled eggs and to mix it up for supper we had scrambled beans and runny eggs.  Each meal of each day was the exact same and after 10 days of cramming down the high protein enriched meal…I…and NOT…my pregnant wife…was struggling.  My gag reflex was going overtime as I wretched with each bite.  I normally liked both eggs and beans, but by this time, my prayers had become “give me this day…my daily cheeseburger…with bacon and fries…and a coke,” as opposed to bread!

I felt guilty for my lack of appreciation, especially when my gestational wife was not having the same struggle.  I felt like the whining Israelites of Exodus 16 and Numbers 11, when they complained about their daily bread…the manna from heaven and asked for meat.  Yet, God provided for them, even giving to them what they had requested. Imagine my humility when on the next day I found sliced frankfurters on my plate…mixed in with the scrambled eggs and runny beans.  It was like…like…quail from heaven.  The salty goodness of the franks was like magic in my mouth. “Thank you Lord!”

Our God is indeed a gracious God.  I cannot fully understand His love and mercy for me and why he chooses to bless me so richly, yet he does.  I am still learning how to pray and how to ask Him for what I need.  Matthew 6:5-13, tells us that he knows what we need even before we ask of it…yet he longs to have our hearts aligned with his in prayer as we request it.  Thus I will pray, “Lord, give me my daily bread…or eggs…and maybe an occasional frankfurter.”

May you come to seek the Lord’s provisions as your heart aligns with His in prayer.

 Hitch

 

Recently, I have become aware of a concept that boggles my mind.  This new idea appears to be more than just an impractical objective; I would describe it as an utter, non-functioning impossibility.  The target is “hitchless towing.”  The thought is that a vehicle can tow a boat trailer or a camping trailer…without…being connected to a vehicle. 

Huh? How does that work?  I guess the answer is…wirelessly.  My immediate counter thought would take into consideration how many times my cell phone drops calls, looses Bluetooth or can’t find a wifi signal.  Scary!

I did some looking online and I did in fact find Toyota is making efforts in this technology.  In their demo videos, you see two identical minivans traveling the road.  The vehicle behind, is in reality being “towed”…wirelessly…by the vehicle in front.  At first glance my reaction was, “This is the dumbest concept in the history of mankind.”

Then I remembered a recent road trip with four children sitting behind me.  My mind suddenly saw the brilliance of this idea.  The kids can ride in the second vehicle and the parents in the front vehicle.  Wonderful!

Now, if I could just get my hands on two identical vehicles that have this technology implemented, but then, who would make me a sandwich from the cooler in the back while I drive.  That’s a deal breaker…not to mention the impracticality of the costs. 

Honestly, I would be incredibly apprehensive about “hitchless towing.”  Whether it is a vehicle following the one I am driving, pulling a boat to the lake or a camper being pulled to a campsite, I want to have a solid connection.  I guess a “wireless” connection seems convenient, but I desire something a bit more substantial. 

As I have continued to learn to follow Christ, this is how I see prayer.  Prayer connects me to God.  In many ways we want our Christian lives to become as easy and convenient as possible, like sitting in a vehicle being wirelessly towed by another, enjoying the mind numbing entertainment of video screens soaking up my brain cells.  Sure that sounds relaxing, but it does not sound desirable.

What I want is connection…real solid connection with God Almighty…The Father…The One with the Hallowed Name.  Prayer is that connection.  Like locking down the hitch to the 2” ball, with safety chains and wire-harness set to go.  I want to follow where the Lord is going.  He gets to decide and I get to follow.  His Kingdom Come…His will be done…on earth as it is in Heaven (Matt. 6:10).

May you be connected to God in prayer as your prayers align your heart with the heart of God’s heart.

Emptied

My wife made me aware of two occurrences…both similar. My son exclaimed, “Ugh! Why do I do that!? I don’t even WANT to do that!?”

“What are you talking about? You don’t want to do what?”

“Give away all of my money!”

“What do you mean?” She asks.

“I keep giving away all of my money!”

This is a striking statement coming from a young man who is just as frugally minded as both his mother and father.  I have been known to buy several items, use them, only to return them, (note: they are still in like new condition).  For some people, generosity just comes naturally, like my father-in-law.  He was perhaps the most generous man that I have known, constantly giving to those in need, often anonymously.

This situation with my son caused my wife to pause, so she questioned farther. “What do you mean? When are you giving all of your money away?”

“I just did it again! I emptied my wallet and gave all of my cash t Alba…the sponsor child from youth group.”

“Oh! Well, I think that’s great Isaac! But, you said, ‘again,’ when else have you done that?”

“Last September…when those guys from Minnesota Adult and Teen Challenge came…I emptied my wallet and gave all I had then too!  I hate that! But I can’t help it! Why do I keep doing that!?”

“Maybe it’s the Lord’s leading…maybe it’s a gifting of the Spirit.”

I don’t share that story to in anyway bring praise to my son.  If anything it ought to bring shame to me, because I tend to resist such responses.  What does strike me is the picture of Jesus.  Jesus gave so much more.  These past few weeks of advent I keep thinking of what Jesus gave up to come to us…to be with us.

Jesus had everything…and he gave it ALL away.  He didn’t just give what was in his wallet…he gave it all.  He gave up his amazing, glorious throne in heaven and, instead,  took up a borrowed feed trough.  He gave up his home to live on this earth without a home.  He left heaven to enter a world where he would know hunger, poverty, pain, suffering, betrayal, thirst and everything else this world promises.

Why? Why was he willing to give it ALL up? Because of love, and because he loves us…you and me…he not only gave it all up (Phil. 2:7)…but then offers everything that he gave up…to us.  He invites us into the full inheritance (2 Cor. 8:9) that one day we can spend eternity with him and without hunger, poverty, pain, suffering, betrayal and thirst.

May you come to see the love that Jesus has for you, and all that he gave up for you because of that love.

The Demerit

For hundreds of year teachers have faced numerous challenges in the realm of education.  Educators must navigate the paths of curriculum, relationships and the treacherous uncertainties of classroom management…namely…discipline.  In my experience of educational exhaustion, countless strategies of discipline have been implemented on my behalf.  I have been lectured, yelled at, sent to the principal’s office, hugged, ridiculed, given detention and others…except “paddling.” Interestingly however, I recall that in my physical education teacher’s office there was a residual paddle with names written on it from its history of a disciplinary instrument.  I can only be left to assume that each name written on that paddle represented a backside of a misbehaving junior high school student who needed to be put back into line at some point in the paddle’s storied past.  Fortunately for me, I lived at a time after the allowance of the use of paddles.  Some schools allow the usage of “demerits” as a disciplinary strategy.

A demerit is a tally mark of wrong doing. If you happen to misbehave in class, you would receive a demerit.  If you turn in your assignment late, you receive a demerit.  If you run in the halls or call Alice Allison a name like Acne Alice, you get a demerit.  They just keep adding up.  My wife once received 10 demerits in her high school for passing a note when the entire class was warned that there was to be “NO TALKING.”  In fairness to her…passing a note was not talking. Even so, shame on her…times 10.

I am thankful that I have not kept track of the acts of shame that I have committed in my life.  If I had a light for every act of shame in my life, I’ll bet I could light up the annual Rockefeller Christmas in midtown Manhattan. 

Jesus is the central figure of Christmas.  It’s not Santa Claus or the Grinch.  It is not Mary or Joseph or the shepherds or even the angels. It is Jesus.  Why?  Because this is the moment when God takes the incredible love that he has for the world and gives to it…Jesus, (John 3:16).  Why is that such an act of love? It is because Jesus brings two of the greatest gifts known to mankind.  The first gift is that he takes away our demerits, (1 John 3:5).  He takes away our sins, our shame…our wrong doings.  Yet, there is a second gift…as if the first isn’t great enough.  He also, gives to us…all of HIS merits.  He takes away our yuck and gives to us all of His goodness and righteousness, (Romans 4:24).

May we come to reflect on the real gifts of Christmas this year!

Hand Warmers

I remember my first year of deer hunting in the Minnesota Northwoods.  November weather in Minnesota is a vacillating conundrum of confusion.  One day you may find yourself sun bathing in 64 degree sunny weather, while the next day you are wondering where you left your wool socks and rabbit fur trapper hat from two days ago.  

A young boy’s first day of deer hunting is an important day in his growth to adulthood, almost as important as the day of his birth or his wedding day.  I remember many of the important days of my life including my 21^st birthday, when a bunch of my friends took me out to a local place and we consumed an exorbitant amount of…cheese.

On this first day of progressive manhood, my dad woke both my older brother and I up at 4:00 a.m. and made us start getting dressed right away.

“Hey you two, get up and get dressed.  Be sure to wear warm clothes, it is supposed to be cold and it looks like we got about 10 inches of snow last night.”

“What about breakfast?”

“You don’t need breakfast.”

“But I am hungry”

“Have a bowl of cereal then, but be quick about it.”

I poured some sugarless Wheaties into a Styrofoam bowl followed by the milk which came out of the carton in clumps of icy slush.

After breakfast I pulled on my long underwear which was too small for my legs, followed by three pairs of socks and 2 shirts and some holey blue jeans.  I then donned an old green snowmobile suit covered in patches and holes.  I slid my feet into the barely insulated rubber boots that were 3 sizes too large, which gave me room to grow…too much room to grow, but the extra socks helped to take up the extra space.  I shouldered on an orange vest, an orange hat and some thin orange mittens, and finally stepped out of the camper and into the cold Minnesota forest.  The wind slapped me in the face like an icy wet dish rag.  I sank into the depth of snow and fell forward onto my hands and knees.  My mittens were instantly full of snow and my hands simultaneously became ice cubes.

My dad had packed for me a set of charcoal heated hand warmers and 1 book of matches.

“Light these when you get cold” He directed.

I was cold now, but I waited.  We trudged through the deep snow and my dad dropped me off at my stand.  I crawled up onto the platform while it was still as dark as pitch.  I could not find the matches to light my hand warmers so I waited the 65 minutes until daylight, getting colder each minute.  At daylight I found the matches and began to…attempt the lighting of the charcoal stick for the hand warmer.  I struck match after match trying to light the hard fuel stick only to have each small flame flicker out by the winter wind.  My fingers were stiff with cold and stung like the needling stingers of wasps.  It did not take long before my matches were gone, the entire book…empty.

Sitting there, hopeless and cold, I struggled to know what to do.  After pondering my predicament for a whole 60 seconds or more, I crawled down from my stand and walked to my dad’s stand at about 8:00 in the morning…maybe 90 minutes into the open shooting hours of the opening day. 

“What are you doing!” My dad shouted in a whisper!

“Do you have any more matches?”

“What!?”

“Matches…I need more matches…I can’t get my warmers lit.”

“It’s opening morning!”

“Do you have any matches?”

He tossed me down another book of matches and when I made my way back into my stand, my frozen fingers were finally successful in lighting my charcoal hand warmers…and I was happy…at least my hands were happy.  The rest of me was still cold. 

It wasn’t until later that night, when we got back to the camper and we ate a hot supper of hot dogs, beans and root beer, that the rest of me found some “happiness.” In fact, after my dad lit the camper furnace and I crawled under my sleeping bag I went from happy to something deeper than happy.

Christmas often reminds me of how much our life we spend trying to be “happy.”  I see happiness as being like a hand warmer.  It heats up… it warms our hands…at least for a while.  Yet the rest of our bodies remain cold.  Then the hand warmer wears out and we are left seeking happiness again. 

Joy is different.  Joy is sustaining.  Joy doesn’t burn out.  Joy is deeper than happiness.  Joy is like sliding under the warm covers on a cold Minnesota night, while happiness is trying to warm your entire body with a cup of hot cocoa. 

On that first Christmas the angels appeared and proclaimed, “Good news of great JOY which will be for all the people!” May the depth of that reach you this Christmas! Good news of great JOY! Some of the packages under your tree may bring some happiness this Christmas, but only the Good News of Jesus can bring the Great JOY! Joy can ONLY come from the Spirit of Christ.

May you find Great Joy! This Christmas!

 Expected Surprises

I remember when I first became a father. My wife, Sarah, had taken the home test in early June of 2003 and the diagnosis???… “parenthood.”  The condition was confirmed a few days later when Sarah visited her doctor.  We were so excited that later that night we went to supper with my parents at Applebee’s, where we intended to share the good news.  We decided to reveal the surprise by inserting a picture of the ultrasound into a wad of other photos of our recent mission trip to Mexico.  I grinned from ear to ear as I waited for them to come across the ultra sound photo, because I knew that they too would be ecstatic!  I inwardly hoped that in their excitement that Dad would offer to pick up the tab for supper.  They came to the photo.  My mother squealed, “Oh, what is this!  Eeeek! You are having a baby! How wonderful!”

“Congratulations you two!,” my father added, “Here is your half of the bill.”

Nothing could shake our excitement…even having to pay the Applebee’s bill was tolerable.  We knew that things were going to change, but I was convinced that we were going to be the best parents ever.  I had given parental lessons to all kinds of parents through the years, enduring their scowls and bitter looks of resentment as I offered counsel and advice of how “I would do it if I were in their shoes.” Now I was going to prove that not only was I a “know it all,” but also a “do it all.”  I wasn’t worried in the least.

Until…

As part of our birthing classes, which apparently new parents are strongly encouraged to attend…and new fathers are required to attend by their “soon to be a mother,” spouse. 

It was at these classes where you learn how to breathe, push, flip and bounce out a baby.  It seemed simple enough…I figured I would let the doctors take the lead…though I was ready to advise if needed…after all, I had taken several night classes on the subject. 

Then one night, the class instructor rolled out a large thick television with a VHS player mounted below.  She began to play countless videos of birthing, mommy care and baby care.  The birthing videos made me a little more nervous…but it was really the “How to take care of your baby” videos that freaked me out.” 

These videos spoke of all of the dangers that lurked in your home; radon, carbon monoxide, bleach, toilet brushes, plastic bags, Lego, Asian lady beetles, dogs, cats, cribs, pillows, bedding, diaper changes, falling chandeliers, car seats, refrigerators, fishing fillet knives, vacuum cleaners and sleep deprived parents shaking their babies…pretty much EVERYTHING that you have in your home is a vessel of death to an infant.  THERE WENT MY PEACE!!!!

I was not afraid of fatherhood…until…I watched those videos!

I was suddenly paralyzed by fear. The expected anticipation of fatherhood was now replaced with expected apprehension. 

I feel similar in other aspects of life, one moment I am ok and feel that I have everything under control and the next my peace has been swiped from me like a shaken Etch-A-Sketch. 

All throughout the Bible, the Lord repeats a promise of a Savior to come.  Yet, in the anticipation of the promised Savior, the world has had to endure the struggles of this life.  Mankind continues to wrestle with fear, hunger, pain, disease and oppression.  In Luke 1, we find that the promise of the Savior is refreshed.  It had been about 400 years since God had last spoken to mankind directly.  In his last message, he promised a prophet was coming.  In Luke 1…after a LONG silence…God delivers on that promise!  It is a promise of hope and peace and joy and love.  It is a promise of Jesus, the Savior.

O come thou long expected peace…thou long expected Jesus and save us from this world of anxiety and oppression!

 Grass on the Moon

 

I don’t really believe that Murphy’s Law, (the adage stating that if something can go wrong it will go wrong), but it certainly seems strange to me, how every time I am running late to an event, bad things seem to happen.  It is in times like these that I catch every red light, have to wait for a train, and I get stuck behind the slowest driver in a 50 mile radius.  This happened just this morning as I was driving my daughter to her piano lesson.  I had to wait for EVERY stoplight…YES! ALL THREE!  On top of that, we had to wait for a train…and…since I am the slowest driver in the 50 mile radius…other slow drivers don’t matter. Needless to say…she was late. I blame the stoplights.

Speaking of stoplights…I was reminded recently of my son’s internal conflict with these mechanical, magical, and mysterious traffic controllers.  Apparently, in his younger years, my son Isaac believed that there were little men that would sit inside the stoplights and make them change colors whenever they felt like making the change.  If they wanted one light to stay green for the entire day, they could.  Or in the case of my trip across town, the little men living inside the stoplights could sadistically turn every light red making me wait…and eventually late.  I am relieved to know that my son now knows that little men don’t operate the traffic lights...its aliens.

Children believe strange things.  As a toddler, this same son of mine was deathly afraid that the bathtub drain would suck him in with the draining water to live in the sewers with the rats and crocodiles. When his mother would finish his bath, she would be sure to remove him from the tub before draining the water or he would scream in ghastly fear!  I, on the other hand, would purposely leave him in the tub and pull the drain plug.  This served two purposes. Firstly, It was funny to watch him scream breathlessly. Secondly, the boy needed to learn to toughen up. You never know what life will throw at you, and you need to be ready for that random whirlpool in the ocean.  Perhaps Captain Nemo would have survived through that whirlpool if his dad had pulled the drain plug while he was still in the tub?

I just learned today that my oldest daughter had the same irrational fear of draining water. Perhaps she never spoke of this fear…for another fear…of her dad pulling the plug while she was still in the tub.  I am offended. How mean does she think I am?

My daughter Carissa could handle the draining water just fine…it was the fear of being sucked into the vacuum toes first that consumed her dreams.

When I was a child, I believed that every time that I lied to my parents that I would get a black spot on my heart.  Each black spot would then work at eating through my heart like a worm through an apple, and once the black spot got all the way through the heart…I would die. I don’t know what was more concerning…the black spot eating through my heart…or the number of black spots eating through my heart!  I wonder what made me believe this stuff?  Oh…I know!...it’s because…THAT IS WHAT MY MOTHER TOLD ME!!!!

My wife believed that if she got any wrong answers, or was not fast enough with the flash cards in elementary school that her teacher would be angry with her and wouldn’t love her any more.  So to hide her imperfection…she lied and said that she couldn’t “see the cards.”  Hmm…I wonder if she got black spots on her heart too?

My little brother once saw grass on the moon with a little cardboard and plastic telescope.  Ha Ha! What a fool!  Oh Boy! I can’t tell you how my older brother and I laughed at him!  My little brother was always so stubborn and irrational.  He adamantly held to his claim that he saw grass on the moon. He wouldn’t even recant the claim under the threat of a “swirly.” Ironically, he now works in the field of science and wears a white coat to work.  I don’t know if he still believes that there is grass on the moon or not, but there is a chance…a white coat can’t fix everything. 

In Romans 12:2, Paul speaks of our need to have our “minds renewed.”  We need to think differently. In fact, I think Paul understood this transformation incredibly well, perhaps better than anyone.  In 1 Corinthians 13, as Paul is speaking on love, he inserts a powerful statement on transformational thinking.  In verse 11 he says, “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.”

I am so glad that I no longer think like a child. Oh…did I mention that it is only 6 weeks until Christmas! I wonder what Santa will bring me this year?

May we come to invite the Holy Spirit to lead us to transformational thinking and a renewing of our minds.