A Year Ago Today

Thanks to Facebook, I was reminded that today is the one-year anniversary of my fender bender. The car behind me got hit and pushed into me. Thankfully, I sustained the least amount of damage.

Looking back, I see how it could have been so much worse. I could have been the middle car and ended up with damage on the front and back of my car. Instead, my rear bumper was all that needed repairing.

It took some patience and persistence to get my car fixed. The guy who started the whole incident was originally uncooperative with his insurance company, and that gummed up the works for a bit. Finally, he relented and everything got taken care of in good time.

I needed this reminder to help put my life in perspective. Every day that I’m alive is a good day. The only day that isn’t is the day that I fail to wake up at all. That day will be fantastic because I will wake up in the presence of Jesus. That’s truly a win-win.

My rear bumper needed replacing anyway. It had accumulated some dings and scratches in 19 years on the road. I would also seriously recommend USAA for those who are either military or have military family members. They are absolutely the best auto insurance company around.

At the end of the day, if you have nothing else to be thankful for, you can be grateful that you are still here. Let none of us ever take that blessing for granted ever again.

 

Music, Mustaches, and Crazy Kittens


Today, country music lost two of its best. Both Don Williams and Troy Gentry (of Montgomery Gentry) died. Even when I wasn’t a fan of country music, I still was a fan of Don Williams and his soothing and gentle voice. I confess I’m not as familiar with Montgomery Gentry, but I do know that he was way too young to die.

I listened to Marty Robbins on the way home from picking up a prescription at Kroger’s. I have memories of seeing him and his luxurious mustache on TV (with only Rollie Fingers of the Milwaukee Brewers sporting better facial hair). He was another one that I liked before officially admitting to liking country music.

At home, I spent some quality time with Peanut, my 4-ish month old kitten who I rescued at the Williamson County Animal Shelter, and who in turn rescued me from grieving over the loss of my 17-year old Lucy who crossed the rainbow bridge in June.

She’s a typical kitten, so she’s hilarious and fun to watch. She can also be affectionate and incredibly cuddly. She does this high-pitched purring thing that’s more like a trilling sound. I’ve never heard it before from a cat.

My musical variety continues during my daily treks to and from work, church, and Franklin. I’ve listened to Queensryche, John Prine, Guns ‘N’ Roses, and Marty Robbins. I believe that crosses past eccentric musical tastes into the category of “They Should Make Pills for This.”

It was a good week. I woke up every morning and managed to avoid the dreaded toe tag, so I call it a win.  When people ask me how I am, I’m answering, “Better than I deserve.” I’m coming to see more and more every day how true that is.

Oh, by the way, Peanut the Spaz says hi.

 

A Good Word from Oswald

“‘The water that I shall give him will become in him a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life’ (John 4:14).

‘We are to be fountains through which Jesus can flow as “rivers of living water” in blessing to everyone. Yet some of us are like the Dead Sea, always receiving but never giving. Whenever the blessings are not being poured out in the same measure they are received, there is a defect in our relationship with Him. Stay at the Source, closely guarding your faith in Jesus Christ and your relationship to Him, and there will be a steady flow into the lives of others with no dryness or deadness whatsoever'” (Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest).

I don’t see Oswald climbing the charts as a popular baby name, but the man to whom the name belonged left a legacy of wisdom behind when he died at a young age.

If you want to read about his incredible life, I recommend the book Oswald Chambers: Abandoned to God: The Life Story of the Author of My Utmost for His Highest by David McCasland. Here’s a link to the amazon site where you can purchase the book.

https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=oswald+chambers+biography

I think what he’s trying to get at is that we’re called to serve out of the overflow of time spent with Jesus. It’s no good if all we do is soak up and receive and never share with anyone else. It’s also no good if all we do is serve with no time left over to receive from God.

PS I also recommend My Utmost for His Highest as one of the best devotionals you’ll find. It’s a classic.

 

 

Blow Up Your TV

“Blow up your TV, throw away your paper
Go to the country, build you a home
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches
Try and find Jesus on your own” (John Prine)

Sometimes, I think that’d be the best way to live. I’ve come to the place where I can’t trust the news I read anymore. I can’t trust the social media posts I see when it comes to political issues.

It seems that everything is biased and everything is filtered through an agenda. As I’ve said before, I refuse to drink either the blue or red kool-aid and buy into either the Democrat or Republican deception. The older I get, the more independent my political views become.

Maybe I should just move to the country and plant a little garden, eat more peaches and read more books. You know, the real kind with actual pages that you turn.

In the mean time, perhaps I’ll read my Bible more and social media less. I’ll play with my kitten more.

Definitely, I want to get out more while the weather’s nice. There is no better antidote to the culturally programmed anxiety than a hike through the woods or even simply stepping outside and breathing in some fresh air.

I definitely pray more. I’m remembering what Ann Lamott said about how you know you’ve created God in your own image when He hates all the same people you do. I believe Jesus taught us to hate no one and pray for our enemies. That runs completely counter-cultural to the current trend of demonizing your political opponents and mocking those with different beliefs and ideologies.

Anyway, my cat is sitting on my laptop and purring, so I’d better wrap this thing up. Good night, everyone, and pleasant dreams to you all.

 

 

Cheekwood in September


On this unseasonably fall-ish day, I went to Cheekwood Estate and Gardens for the first time ever. Mainly, it was for the Downton Abbey exhibit in the Museum of Art, but they also had gardens. Hence the name.

I confess that I am nowhere near an expert on fashion or design. I appreciate that the costumes had a lot of detail and that a lot of thought and care went into recreating the look from the upper class England just after World War I.

I was reminded that what I love more than just about anything is watching someone craft or paint or sing or play at something that they obviously love. When I see craftsmanship at its finest, I usually also see someone who does it for the sheer joy of it and not for monetary gain.

And then there were the gardens. Again, I’m no expert, but I do love seeing the riot of colors and patterns in the flowers. I could tell it was way more than someone throwing seeds randomly into the air and hoping some would stick. It took someone who loved what they did and who was a master at it.

Side note: don’t work to pay bills and make money, but work at something you love. Then it’s not a chore that you endure for 8 hours a day, always counting down the minutes to Friday at 5 pm.

My life and your life is the canvas and God is the artist. Nothing happens by chance and nothing catches the Artist off guard. He knows exactly what He’s doing at every single moment and has an end design in mind the whole time. Remember that when you’re in a dark place.

I’ll definitely be going back to Cheekwood, hopefully on a day as perfect as today. Maybe I’ll even take pictures the next time.

 

 

My Mushy Brain Post

Somewhere between the long work week, the rain, and me getting up at 5 am every morning, my lil’ brain became mush. So don’t expect anything profound or deep from this post. I even made the mental faux pas of saying that Monday was Memorial Day (instead of Labor Day, which is the correct upcoming holiday).

After work, I met up with some fellow Kairos greeters for dinner at McAllister’s Deli. It felt a little surreal, as I used to work at a McAllister’s in Germantown (the one just outside of Memphis, not the one close to downtown Nashville). The food was good (one Spud Max), the conversation was good, the half tea/half lemonade was decent but not great.

Carried away by all the good feelings, I went next door to Golf Galaxy and bought a Yeti tumbler. Yeah, I know. I said I’d rather have a less expensive knockoff. And I don’t even play golf. Chalk it up to the mushy brain syndrome. Plus, I really like the retro green color.

My little kitten continues to be a sweet, affectionate little thing. I believe she’s as grateful today as she was on the day I rescued her and brought her home from the shelter just over two months ago. She likes to cuddle and purr at least once a day, and she seems to like just about everybody.

Right now, I’m content. The only improvement I might make is if I could somehow sleep under a tin roof in the rain. I think that’d definitely help me drift off to sleep faster.

As always, I’m thankful for another day to be alive with my five senses to take it all in. Truly, at the end of the day, it’s all grace and anything good that came my way today is all God.

 

Radnor Lake and Patsy Cline


I think I picked a perfect evening for a hike at Radnor Lake State Park. Apparently, the rain earlier in the day scared off most people, so there were precious few hikers who were able to witness a picture perfect day for the woods.

It came within a hairsbreadth of fall weather. A few degrees cooler and it would have been autumn. Still, it made for an enjoyable walk. I saw 13 deer, so they had the same idea about getting out in the cooler weather.

On the way home, I had Patsy Cline playing in the car. I’m fairly certain that she wrung every ounce of emotion out of every song she ever sang. She didn’t have to write her songs to bring authenticity to them; she lived the songs.

I’m convinced that she was a once in a lifetime kind of talent that left us way too soon. Still, she left us with a treasure trove of songs full of heartbreak and loss and love found. If you don’t believe me, listen to her version of Faded Love, by far the most gut-wrenching version of the song ever recorded.

It’s been a good Monday. That almost seems like an oxymoron, but I still believe that any day can be a good day if you only choose to look for the good in it and thank God for it.

So, thanks to Radnor Lake State Park and the musical legacy of Patsy Cline, I’d call this Monday a win.

Longing for the Word

“Christians are persons who no longer seek their salvation, their deliverance, their justification in themselves, but in Jesus Christ alone. They know that God’s Word in Jesus Christ pronounces them guilty, even when they feel nothing of their own guilt, and that God’s Word in Jesus Christ pronounces them free and righteous even when they feel nothing of their own righteousness…

Because they daily hunger and thirst for righteousness, they long for the redeeming Word again and again. It can only come from the outside. In themselves they are destitute and dead. Help must come from the outside; and it has come and comes daily and anew in the Word of Jesus Christ, bringing us redemption, righteousness, innocence, and blessedness. But God put this Word into the mouth of human beings so that it may be passed on to others. When people are deeply affected by the Word, they tell it to other people. God has willed that we should seek and find God’s living Word in the testimony of other Christians, in the mouths of human beings. Therefore, Christians need other Christians who speak God’s Word to them. They need them again and again when they become uncertain and disheartened” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer).

One question: when last did you long for the word of God? When did you last hunger and thirst for Scripture?

These are questions not meant to guilt you into picking up your Bible, but to gauge where you and I are spiritually. I know for me if the Bible is the last thought in my mind when I have some down time, it means that I am in a spiritually vulnerable place.

May God grant each of us a desire for His word that outweighs all other appetites, even physical ones, so that we can search the pages of His word and find Him there.

Amen.

 

More Lucy Memories

Lost in all the hoopla about the solar eclipse, Monday, August 21, marked two months since my Lucy crossed the rainbow bridge. While I have Peanut, my lovable and playful kitten to heal my heart, I still find myself at times missing the old gal fiercely.

Tonight, I stood at the railing overlooking the stairs. I remembered how Lucy used to look up from the bottom, see me, and come running up the stairs to me. Every single time. Even when she was older and couldn’t run as well, she still willed herself to run to me, greeting me with her friendly chatter.

I remember how when I got home and found her in one of her usual napping spots, the first thing she did when she saw me was let out the hugest yawn ever. I believe it wasn’t because she found me incredibly boring but rather because she was completely relaxed and at ease with me.

I’m finding out these days that it’s possible to carry around two conflicting and completely opposite emotions at the same time. For me, it’s joy and grief, peace and longing. Sometimes, it’s hard to know where the one ends and the other begins.

It’s another reminder of the “now and not yet.” Sure, there’s good to be found here and we can have the peace of Christ, but we wait the perfect consummation of all our hopes and joys. We know that we were made for another and better world — heaven– and we have a longing and a desire that nothing earthly can satisfy.

I do wish that rainbow bridge had visiting hours. I’d go see my Lucy every chance I got. I bet she’d come running up to me and greet me with that ginormous yawn of hers. I would expect nothing less.

Gracefully Broken

“Here I am, God
Arms wide open
Pouring out my life
Gracefully broken” (Matt Redman).

The prayer from tonight’s Kairos went something like this: Lord, into your hands I commit my brokenness.

That’s a good prayer for those of us who know that we are broken. After all, all of us are broken, but it’s more apparent in some. Not all of us are quite ready to admit it.

Some hide it and pretend it isn’t there.

Some make light of it and pretend that it doesn’t matter.

Some will act as if there’s nothing wrong with it the way it is.

The best way is to acknowledge it and give the pieces to Jesus.

There’s a kind of Japanese pottery called Kintsugi that takes broken vessels and mends them, using lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold. That way the cracks and imperfections aren’t hidden, but rather enhanced.

Rather than seeing beauty as flawless perfection, they see it as something that emerges out of a long history of suffering and survival.

Scars are what happens when the wounds of our broken places heal. Again, some will try to hide their scars and pretend they don’t exist.

My favorite writer, the one these blog posts are named after, one said, “On the last day, Jesus will look us over not for medals, diplomas, or honors, but for scars” (Brennan Manning).

Jesus chose to keep His scars in His resurrected body. He ascended into heaven with them. That says something about the honor and beauty of scars.

One quote from Kairos that stood out to me also came from an unlikely (at least to me) source, Ernest Hemingway. He said, “The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places.”

I like that.

Brokenness and scars not only can become beautiful, but in the nail-scarred hands of Jesus, they are beautiful.

PS Much of the credit for this blog post goes to Chris Brooks, Kairos pastor, and to the good folks at Google for providing the information on Kintsugi that I “borrowed.” It’s a good thing this isn’t a term paper, or I’d be in serious trouble.