Sunday, June 29, 2008

Shifting Sand



When I say “sand,” what’s the first thing you think of?

If I asked my daughter Hannah that question, she would be back on the beach from which she just returned in a heartbeat. In fact, she took this photo there, and even wrote a few haiku on her way home, including this one:

Surrounded by feet.
I find several grains of sand.
I miss the ocean.


The beach–any beach–is sand. Sometimes it’s fine and white; other times it’s coarse and golden. But whether you’re digging your toes in it, using it to build castles, or washing it out of your swimsuit, you can’t escape sand at the beach. Sand defines the beach. Or does it?

Think about this: You can never visit the same beach twice. Sure, you may head to the Outer Banks of North Carolina every year, or make an annual trek to Charleston, South Carolina. But the ever-changing nature of sand will create a different beach every time you walk to the water’s edge, whether it’s been a year or an hour.

Then again, if I say “sand,” you might not even think of the coast. I’m pretty sure Tiger Woods thinks of sand differently, because for him, sand can be hazardous. Still, the outcome is up in the air. Sand can either trap a golfer, or provide an opportunity to shine (as is often the case for Tiger).

I’ve never actually seen quicksand, but I certainly remember learning about it from Gilligan’s Island reruns on TV. Because no one ever told me there’s no quicksand where I lived in Virginia, I took Gilligan’s example to heart as a kid, and kept a close watch where I was walking. You never knew when you might step into quicksand, cleverly disguised as regular, garden-variety sand, and be swallowed up in a matter of minutes, never to be heard from again!

The one constant about sand is that it’s changeable, and that’s Biblical. In Matthew 7:24-27 we get fair warning:

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.” (NIV)

The band Caedmon’s Call also has something to say about our faith and “Shifting Sand”:

My faith is like shifting sand
Changed by every wave
My faith is like shifting sand
So I stand on grace.


May His grace be your rock and the foundation of your life.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Mowing



Top ten thoughts rolling around in my head while I was mowing tonight:

1. My father would be horrified to see me flying around the yard in high gear, zigging and zagging, doing donuts and figure 8s, and generally driving it like I stole it.

2. This must be what it was like to live in the Dust Bowl…and where do all of these sticks come from every time I mow??

3. There’s a very fine line between mowing and mulching, and I’m constantly crossing it.

4. I wonder how much Ann Brooks would charge to mow this for me every couple of weeks...?

5. Clover, crabgrass, and dandelions, when cut level, give the genuine appearance of a lawn.

6. I need to remember to go back and pluck those few ripe wild strawberries that were winking at me through the underbrush as I flew by…and it looks like a bumper crop of blackberries this year.

7. Grass has a wonderfully sweet, sharp scent the very instant you cut it.

8. A cool front must have moved through today, because the sky is a glorious shade of blue, with no haze whatsoever, and it’s refreshingly cool out here.

9. A newly mown lawn (i.e., weeds cut level) is infinitely satisfying when you finish and survey your work from the comfort of a hammock on the back deck.

10. God really is very good…all the time.

“For you have been born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the living and enduring word of God. For, ‘All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord stands forever.’ And this is the word that was preached to you.” ~ 1 Peter 1:23-25 (NIV)

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Thank You Notes

My daughter has been writing her graduation gift thank you notes for weeks now. Not surprisingly, she doesn’t seem as excited about this as she does about opening the cards that have been arriving in the mail almost daily.

Please don’t think she’s not grateful…on the contrary, she’s always glad to receive gifts (especially cold, hard cash). It’s one of her “love languages.” But maintaining good manners can seem tedious when you’re young with an active social life and the whole summer waiting for you to finish writing thank you notes.

Saying thanks by putting pen to paper isn’t as prevalent as it used to be, I’m afraid. Still, I have always required my children to write thank you notes. (Disclaimer: If you are reading this now and you’ve ever not received a thank you note from Ben or Hannah, I sincerely apologize. For all of my insistence, I eased up on the enforcement when they got older, relying instead on good old-fashioned guilt to get the job done.)

“Why do we have to write thank you notes?” they asked, and you may be asking, too. Here's my short list:

1. It’s the least you can do if someone’s given you a gift.
2. Because Miss Manners and I say so.

But there’s another reason for what my kids think is a necessary evil and what I call necessary etiquette, and it’s this: We need to be thankful.

It’s just that simple. I’ve heard it aptly described as having an “attitude of gratitude.” To my way of thinking, it’s being aware of God’s gifts and work in your life, every minute of every day, 24/7. It’s not easy and it takes practice. That’s why we need to write/say/sing it to the people around us and the God who made us whenever we have the chance.

As I was driving to work the other day, I was singing this song with Point of Grace:

You Are Good

When the sun starts to rise and I open my eyes, you are good, so good
In the heat of the day with each stone that I lay, you are so good
With every breath I take in, I’ll tell you I’m grateful again
When the moon rises high before each kiss goodnight, you are good

When the road starts to turn, around each bend I’ve learned you are good, so good
And when somebody’s hand holds me up, helps me stand you are so good
With every breath I take in, I’ll tell you I’m grateful again
Cause it’s more than enough just to know I am loved and you are good

So how can I thank you? What can I bring?
What can a poor man lay at the feet of the king?
So I’ll sing you a love song, it’s all that I have
To tell you I’m grateful for holding my life in your hands

When it’s dark and it’s cold, and I can’t feel my soul you are still good
When the world has gone gray and the rain’s here to stay you are still good
With every breath I take in, I’ll tell you I’m grateful again
And the storm may swell, even then it is well, and you are good

So how can I thank you? What can I bring?
What can a poor man lay at the feet of the king?
So I’ll sing you a love song, it’s all that I have
To tell you I’m grateful for holding my life in your hands

You are holding my life in your hands


I have a lot to be thankful for. So when I wake up each morning – rain or shine – I try to bring Psalm 118:24 to mind and heart before I ever open my eyes: This is the day the LORD has made: I will rejoice and be glad in it! And when I close my eyes at night, I try to offer up at least five things in my life that I was thankful for that day. Today I’m grateful for Jesus, my children, my health, my job, and low humidity.

What's on your "Top Five" list?

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Fill 'Er Up!



A few weeks ago my son Ben was on his way from Abingdon back to Boone, North Carolina to settle into a new apartment and find a summer job. It was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon, with warm breezes and a cyan sky. Ben had come home for a doctor’s appointment and, to my knowledge, didn’t have anything going on that evening in Boone. So it shouldn’t have been a big deal when he was stopped in Damascus for the annual Trail Days Parade.

I was running errands when he called my cell phone. “Guess where I am?”

He hadn’t been gone long, but I really don’t like riddles and guessing games. “I dunno. Where?”

“Damascus.”

“Oh?” I asked, hoping he hadn’t been pulled over for speeding in Damascus.

“Yeah. I had to stop for the Trail Days Parade. So now I’m just sitting here.”

I immediately picked up on his tone, but I didn’t think having to stop for a parade on a beautiful Saturday sounded like such a bad thing. In fact, to me it sounded like it might be good for the soul, so I didn’t humor him. “Well that sounds cool. Enjoy!”

“Well, it’s not cool,” he shot back.

I countered with, “Can you do anything about it?”

Silence. ”Nope.”

“Then like I said, enjoy the parade. Just relax and be a Trail Days kinda guy for awhile,” I suggested. I wondered if he could hear the smile in my voice.

He used to be a Trail Days kinda guy, when he was younger. After all, Trail Days is a pretty big deal, not only locally, but up and down the east coast. Damascus has done a fine job of carving out a niche for themselves as an Appalachian Trail (AT) town, the only one, in fact, that the trail actually passes through. Damascus is also fairly close to being the halfway point on the 2,150-mile trail, which begins in Georgia and ends in Maine (or is it the other way around?). Every May, on the weekend following Mother’s Day, over 1,000 hikers, former hikers, and wannabe hikers, not to mention tourists, come together in Damascus to celebrate the AT. I’ve heard it compared with to a Grateful Dead concert...without the band, of course.

No matter the reason, Ben wasn’t into it this year, which led me to think he was looking at the situation as a glass half empty, while I saw it as a glass half full. The glass metaphor is almost a cliché. If you Google “glass half full” you’ll find 3,350,00 results, including a breast cancer CD website, a family blog I enjoyed browsing, and the website of an author, Carey Rowland, who wrote a novel titled, “Glass Half Full,” and who, ironically, lives in Boone. Maybe Ben should look him up…

I may be an optimist by nature, but I also try to purposefully see the glass as half full. This puts me at odds with The Today Show’s Matt Lauer, who admitted just the other morning that he’s a glass half empty guy. But we’ll probably never meet, so I can live with that. Even in restaurants my glass is always half full, although the wait staff (if they’re good) sees it as half empty and keeps trying to refill it. Our viewpoints may differ (I like to keep track of how much water I drink during the day), but I appreciate the attention and tip them well for their efforts.

In any case, I’ve found this much to be true: People tend to consistently pick one viewpoint over the other, whether intentionally or just by nature. If you don’t know which part of the glass you’re looking through, you can find out here.

And no matter which camp you’re in, my advice is to drink up! Take in all life has to offer, because when you look to God to fill your cup, it’ll never be dry. In fact, you may just find it’s overflowing.

“…Godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it.” ~ 1 Timothy 6:607 (NIV)

Sunday, June 1, 2008

The Beginning



It’s over. It took 17 years to get here – the senior picnic, the awards assembly, baccalaureate, and graduation…plus a whole host of breakfasts, parties, and barbeques in honor of the AHS Class of 2008. But once we got to April, the days flew by in a blur of celebratory events. It felt much like it does when you finally get to the highest point on the roller coaster…and then plunge down, hands in the air and screaming at the top of your lungs. At least, that’s what it feels like for the parent of a graduate. I’m not sure it felt exactly like that for Hannah, but I’m certain she experienced the thrill, maybe even accompanied by the brief sensation of apprehension just before you begin to descend and feel like your stomach is going to drop into your shoes.

It’s ironic that, at this point in their lives, young adults would be feeling almost the same emotions their parents are, from celebration and excitement to sadness and perhaps just a little bit of fear. Of course, my graduate hasn’t actually expressed these emotions to me, at least not in so many words. And I know we’re experiencing similar feelings from very different perspectives. But no matter what the reasons, we feel what we feel (or as we like to say at work, it is what it is).

The thing to remember though is this: It’s not a time to look back. Memories are great for the senior video, but after that they’re best saved for the 10th class reunion. This is a time to look ahead, and try to discern what the future holds. It’s a time to be grateful, too…thanking God that He knows the plan, and admitting we don’t.

“For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” ~ Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

At one graduation party yesterday I enjoyed looking at photos of the family’s graduates through the years. Four have graduated from high school so far, with one to go. But this year they were blessed threefold with a college graduate, as well as twin high school graduates – Hannah’s friends Lauren and Alyssa – who walked to the podium together Friday night with arms linked and all smiles. I noticed that someone had sent a Dr. Seuss card – Oh, the Places You’ll Go! – and I appreciated that, not only because it’s a great book for any momentous occasion, but also because Dr. Seuss was such a big part of my children’s reading experiences as they grew up. So to quote Theodor Seuss Geisel…

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You’re off to great places!
You’re off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.

You’re on your own.
And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.


Congratulations, and welcome to your future AHS Class of 2008 It's not over for you. This is just the beginning!