A Good Story

Once upon a time…I loved a girl and I asked her out…she said no… months later she finally said yes and a couple of years later we got married anyway.  That is a true story and a good story!

Everyone loves a good story, especially when the odds are stacked against the protagonist and yet you see that person, often the underdog, come out on top and encountering a wonderful end to the story.  I think that this is what makes a work of fiction, such as The Lord of the Rings so enticing and true stories like Louie Zamperini’s WWII survival story so inspiring.  To see Frodo Baggins faced against all of the evils that Mordor has to offer and still find victory in the cracks of mount doom or Louie Zamperini’s incredible survival of over 40 days at sea and years in Japanese concentration camps, to not only survive, but to find a “good ending” years after the war.

God is writing a good story in everyone who believes.  This is what Romans 8:28 is really hitting at.  To those that love God, He is writing a good story.  Yet, in every good story, there are chapters of difficulty.  Some of my chapters are incredible, in which my marriage, the birth of my children and killing a grouse with my bare hands are all included.  Many other chapters are challenging and difficult to endure.  These are the chapters where I find myself as an exhausted parent wondering if I am doing anything right…or is it normal for a 3 year old boy to chase his sister around the house with a “dangerous knife.” These are the chapters where I get angry over spilt milk.  I don’t know who coined the term, “There is no use crying over spilled milk,” but they are wrong…I cry every time milk is spilled or eggs are cracked and wasted. 

Good chapters may include promotions, restored relationships or winning tickets to the World Series.  Bad chapters could be found in the death of a loved one, a dreadful diagnosis or a depression that you just can’t seem to climb out of.  The lists of either are endless. 

Yet, in the end, we will find an incredibly wonderful chapter.  We will see a chapter that is better than the destruction of the One Ring, (in the Lord of the Rings), or the forgiveness that Zamperini offers to the Bird, (his perpetual torturer in the Japanese labor camps).  At the end of God’s good story we will find the last chapter, which happens to be the best chapter ever written.  It is in these last lines of the story were we find the redemption of mankind become complete and the restoration of the earth take place.  We find a New Heaven and a New Earth being created for those who have said yes to the story of God and yes to the gift of forgiveness and righteousness found only in Jesus.  Paul’s letters to the Thessalonians reveal a good story and a good ending that is promised to all who believe, even though their story contains difficult chapters (i.e. Acts 17:1-9).

May we come to embrace God’s good story…His Gospel…and trust Him to write His story within the chapters of our lives. 

 Winning

There is something wrong with me.  Sure, I have plenty of physical ailments and blemishes.  My elbows hurt, my back hurts and I can’t see as well as I used to be able to see.  I have knee pain, very little hair and spots on my skin where there previously had not been spots on my skin.  However, these are the “wrongs” that I am referring to.  There is something else.  I have a problem in my thinking.  I am not sure where it came from, but it has plagued me for decades. I have an unhealthy NEED to…WIN!

It is absurd.  In 3^rd grade I remember running races every day at recess against other 3^rd grade boys.  I would beat most of them, though there were a few, namely, Tommy, Brian and Mike that were just flat out faster than I was.   I usually tried to avoid racing against those boys and opted for other competition that was known to be slower.  Why?  As I already stated…I wanted to win.

I raced every day, until one day when I lost to Kris.  Kris…was a girl.  I therefore hung up my Buster Browns and turned to other areas of competition that I could be victorious at. 

One of my next endeavors consisted of standing in the Elementary School lavatory, where I allowed other boys to punch me in the gut.  It was a game of endurance.  Two boys would compete side by side, willingly taking punches to the stomach, until one of the two would quit. 

I was once again reasonably competitive at “Gut Grinding,” perhaps because of my amazing abdominal fortitude…or my lack of a prefrontal cortex.   I won most of these head to heads. Day after day I took a walloping…until…I vomited and the competition ceased, because when vomiting occurs…there are no winners.    

Life was constantly placing competition before me.  I turned my family supper time into a race to who could consume the most slices of pizza in the least amount of time.  Needless to say, I was a champ.  The other 5 members of my family couldn’t hold a candle to my ability to bite, swallow, bite swallow.  There was neither room nor time to taste and chew.  I could easily gut 4 slices before my mother and siblings could finish their first.  The only one who could maybe hang with me was my dad…but he would cut me off way before I was ready, “If you touch another slice, you won’t be able to sit down for a week.  Now take a breath and let some other people eat.”

I wanted to win at everything, wrestling, cribbage, foosball, battleship.  Sadly, this is still the case today.  As an adult, my oldest child accused me of cheating at Candy Land, but seriously…can a 4 year old really be trusted?   

Somewhere along the line, winning had become a barometer used to measure my self-worth.  If I could win…then I had value.  It is not just me…it seems that winning has saturated our society.  We want to be the best, to outdo others, to prove that in some way…even for a moment…”I am better than you…thus I must have more value than you.”

This Sunday, an estimated 100 million Americans will gather in front of big screen TV’s and a plate of chicken wings, to watch the Kansas City Chiefs take on the Philadelphia Eagles.  In regards to this game, I believe that there are three things that you can be certain of. 

1.      One team will be victorious.

2.      One team lose.

3.      There is a greater victory in this world than all other victories combined. 

In 1 Corinthians 15, Paul writes about the greatest victory that has EVER been known to mankind…the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  What is even more astounding about this victory…which is TOTALLY INCREDIBLE…is that for those who choose to put their faith in Jesus Christ…THEY TOO…will get to share in that victory.

This blows my mind.  Though I had done nothing to earn or achieve this victory, I can enjoy this victory FULLY, by simply putting my faith in Jesus and trusting him for my salvation…for my victory. 

As you watch these NFL teams strive to win, may you be reminded that those who are in Jesus…HAVE ALREADY WON! Good luck doing that Mr. Mahomes.

 Mini-Me

There was a day when my son wanted to do and look just like me.  It comes naturally to most boys.  I remember strapping on a construction apron and hanging a hammer on my side to look like my dad.  He thought this was great until I began aggressively hammering on the coffee table and fake wood paneled walls, leaving numerous divots all over the surfaces.  In some ways I still want to look like him.  I wish I could grow the full manly beard that he wears…save however, white “Santa Claus” look of it.  In other ways, I would rather, he look like me, and strap on his tool belt and come and help me repair the broken drywall in my basement cause from my own children’s abuse to my home.

When my son was 4 years old I would load him up in the truck and tote him around town with me tending to numerous life tasks and errands.  There were two primary reasons for the necessity of these moments.  First, spend quality male bonding time between father and son.  Second, get the rambunctious rule breaker away from his stressed out mother for an hour or so, which intern helped her regain temporary sanity.

On one such occasion, we entered into the local Napa Auto Parts store, and perched ourselves on the bar stools at the tall counter.  I hiked him up and planted him atop one of the stools, slid one over for myself and began requesting our needed car parts.  As we waited to receive our brakes and calipers, one of the Napa store workers approached with two identical Napa Auto Parts racing caps and put one on each of our heads.  My son was ecstatic, not only did we wear the hats home, we wore them as we worked “together” on replacing the brakes on the station wagon.  My wife was also ecstatic, though having nothing to do with the hats and everything to do with the adding of another hour or so of sanity to her life as we stayed in the garage.  Over the next several years my son would run into his room and don his Napa cap every time he saw mine resting upon my head. 

Today, my son looks more like me than perhaps ever before, although he would never be caught dead wearing the same Napa hat…but I still do.  He probably wishes that he could grow facial hair like mine…as I still wish that I could grow facial hair like my dad.  In many ways, the fact that he is a physical representation of me is beyond his control…genetics takes the major credit for that.  Looks however, are much more than mere appearances.

In fact, when I see my son make a choice that reflects good judgment, i.e. respecting his mother, I see that he looks like me by holding to the values that I have attempted to instill in him.  I think this goes deeper still, as I consider that these are the same values that had been instilled in me…and the values that had been instilled in my father as well.   When my son chooses to live in such a way that reflects me…he looks like me…his father.  Additionally, when he lives in this way it also reflects my father and his father.  His life reveals the person he is following.

In the same way does the way that I live reflect who I am following.  As we look at the concluding line of the Lord’s Prayer “…for yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen,” Matthew 6:13b, I see that my prayer reflects not what I want, but rather what God wants.  When I can allow the Holy Spirit to align my heart with the heart of God, I will see that as I live this life, my desire is to reveal His kingdom, His power, and His Glory.  May I grow to look like HIM…the Lord and Savior of my life and the world…Jesus Christ.

May you seek the transforming work of the Lord in your life to make you into a “Mini-Me” of Himself.

Cheeseburger

 

“Dad!? Can we go to McDonalds!?...PLEASE!??”

“Yeah! Dad!? PLEEEEAAASSSEE,” begged my siblings.

“No…we are not going to McDonalds…it is too expensive.”

“But Dad! We haven’t eaten anything all day and it’s already 2:00 in the afternoon!” I retorted.

“Yeah and we are soooo hungry,” my 4 year old sister added between finger sucks.

“No!” my patriarch stoically avowed.

“But Dad! We can share a drink…really…c’mon Dad!” I implored with the staccato of a jackhammer.

“Yeah Dad! We really want to eat!”

“You should have eaten more for breakfast.”

“But Dad! We left at 6:30 a.m. and have done nothing but shop for lumber, light fixtures and floor tiles all day! Not only is that just flat out boring, but the boredom makes us think of nothing else but our empty stomachs.”

“Mine is even digesting itself!”

“We are only stopping once for food today.  I am not willing to spend money to go out more than once in a day.  I intend for our only food stop to be the Old Country Buffet at 4:55 p.m. …5 minutes before they switch to the “dinner” pricing…so we can eat the roast beef at the “lunch” price.

“But Dad! We are sooo hungry now!”

The battle continued.  I was by far the most vocal in my obsessing effort to convince the foremost authority of the family to feed us.  It was scriptural after all…“When a child asks for bread, does his father give him a snake?”  In this case…the snake was the equivalent to nothing…at least until supper.  My siblings were of minimal help.  They agreed with the arguments and desires that I was laying before our father.  I trust that they too shared in the craving for a semi-warm and flattened cheeseburger wrapped in yellow paper.  Despite the shared longing of  my other brothers, they refrained from the same vocal badgering…perhaps too intimidated by the domineering beard of the powerful being behind the steering wheel.  My 4 year old sister on the other hand, being absent of the same fear, chorally agreed, singing, “booger, booger, booger!”

“C’mon Dad! We don’t even want roast beef! We want super salty fries, limp with grease,” I reasoned.

“FINE!”

“YES!” I thought.  “Victory! I have defeated the strong man with constant bantering!”

We arrived at the McDonalds and ordered according to the guidelines laid out for us by our parents.  We were to share fries and share a drink and we had to settle for burgers wrapped in red paper instead of the yellow paper because the cost of cheese was too much to add.    

We received our food and began to eat while my dad began to write out the check.

“Oh, I am sorry sir…we don’t accept checks.”

“That’s all I have to be able to pay.”

“I am sorry, but we can’t accept checks.”

The next thing I know is that a burger is being ripped out of my mouth by my father and thrust back into the hands of the McDonalds workers…who slid the remainder of our order into a nearby trash can.

We left the restaurant, hungrier than we had entered.

I see a number of parallels to temptations in life through events like this.  I see Satan attack in much the same way as I attacked my father.  He hits us with the relentless temptations…over and over until often we cave to the pressure; only to find that what we thought would satisfy is ripped from our tongue leaving us more depraved and unsatisfied than we had begun.

Yet, thanks be to God who has set before us the great treasure of eternal life by faith in the grace of Jesus Christ, which is even better than the roast beef of Old Country Buffet.

May we come to see the temptations that the enemy lays out before us for what they are…empty unfulfilling promises. May week seek the Lord in prayer (Matthew 6:13) to lead us away from those temptations and into the plans that He has for us.

I’ll Pay for It

I remember the first time that I met my father-in-law.  It was in early May and I was just finishing up my Sophomore year of college…though I had already 3 years under my belt.  I can’t help it…it is in my over achieving nature. He was coming to pick up his daughter from her first year of college and I was going to meet the father of the prettiest girl in school. 

I first laid eyes on him as he stepped out of a 1997 Ford Expedition.  It was a Thursday afternoon, and I noticed his white beard, his comb over and his khaki pants.  I soon discovered that he wore khaki pants every Thursday…and every Tuesday…and every other day of the week that ended in “y.”  In fact, when he sat in this behemoth of a vehicle you couldn’t tell where his pants ended and the khaki colored seats began. 

He greeted me and I met his wife who was the bearer of the identical image this man’s daughter who I had been “seeing” for the past 3 months. He invited me into the dark green SUV.  I sat in the 2^nd row of the oversized vehicle as it rumbled into the Holiday gas station near the college.  The man stepped down out of the enormous truck and began filling the fuel tank with 87 octane unleaded gasoline.  The unit drank in nearly 30 gallons of fuel and cost a mere $27.  The 4.6L V8, as with any V8 consumes gas like a high school boy swallows pizza.  

He finished his filling…stepped back into the vehicle and stated, “Wow! 50 miles per gallon, that’s down a little bit from last time…must have been the headwind.”

The overarching irony of this man was perhaps the paradox of his amazing generosity, coupled with his intense frugality, of which has been known to be called “cheap” in certain circles.  He had a history of conservative fiscal discernments, which included buying “used” spark plugs and infamously ordering 1 large beverage and 4 empty cups to quench the intense thirst of his then four young children from a McDonalds drive through.

He proceeded to transport the four of us, himself, his wife, his daughter…and me…a panic stricken pale face northern Minnesota boy who was smitten with the beauty of his youngest offspring, to Old Chicago Restaurant in Minnetonka, Minnesota. Old Chicago was a casual but expensive pizza place, at least comparative to the only other pizza place I visited, which was Pizza Hut.  Not because I liked Pizza Hut better…but rather because I worked there…and I could eat there for FREE.  I came to learn that he and I shared some of the same conservative fiscal discernments.    

The man’s daughter and I sat next to each other in the large booth while he and his wife sat across from us.  I was careful not to sit too close to the beautiful girl as the last thing that I wanted was to get on the bad side of the bifocaled authority before me.  A bearded waiter came by to take our order.  Immediately I could tell that the spectacled man liked and respected the waiter. 

“Are you all ready to order?” The waiter asked.

“Yes, we are,” the man said, “You look like an honest fellow.  I always tell my wife ‘You can always trust a man with a beard,’ isn’t that right Marilyn?”

“Just give him your order Ken.”

“Ryan why don’t you start…what will you have?”

“Oh, I don’t need anything…how about just a water…do you charge for lemon?  I’ll have some lemon if there is no charge.  Also, are these saltine crackers complementary? I will just have them.”

“What!!? This is on me…order what you want.  I will pay for it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!”

“Then I will have a calzone…why don’t you fill it with mozzarella, pepperoni, ham, bacon, sausage…do you have any other meat in the house? Maybe some ground beef too. Maybe some mozzarella sticks too…and pie…peach pie if you have it…for dessert…and maybe a beer…I mean a root beer.”

“Anything else?”

“Hmmm…I don’t know…we’ll just start with that I guess.”

“And for you sir?” the waiter asked the beautiful girl’s father.

“Are these crackers complementary?” He asked.

Kenneth Dobert, became my father-in-law just 3 years later and I came to learn that “I’ll pay for it,” was a mantra that extended infinitely beyond that first encounter.  When there was a question of finances, you would often hear this man’s voice, “I’ll pay for it.”  He paid for innumerable things…from missionary needs and church debts, to pastors’ vehicles and hospital bills.  It was incredible to see how generous this man really was, especially in contrast to the frugalness of his nature.

I left that day with a picture of another generous man…the MOST generous man.  Ken paid for many things.  The Lord blessed him to be able to do so, yet there was one thing that he could NOT pay for in people’s lives.  He could NOT pay for their sins.  But Jesus could…and DID! I also left that day…and began to grow a beard.

The Spirit of God has continued to remind me of His grace.  He reminds me that I had a debt that I could not pay…but Jesus DID pay it. 

Because Jesus paid my debt and forgave me, I think I can now understand a little more clearly what Jesus is asking when I read, Matthew 6:12.  He has forgiven me…and because of that…I can forgive others.

May you come to ask Jesus to forgive what only he can forgive and be drawn to likewise forgive others.

 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.