Seeing the Light

Image by Sheffield Tiger via FlickrIt's a challenge at times to understand what God means when His Word tells us to rejoice "always"; then, often in small, unexpected ways, He gives us a glimpse.

Such a glimpse came my way this morning when I took my bike for a ride through Fayetteville. The sun climbed slowly toward the day, so it provided just enough light for the ride. But sky was more white than blue and wisps of gray clouds sat on the horizon. This made it too dark to see well with my prescription sunglasses, so I took off on my journey with them propped atop my head, thinking that the sun soon would make its way over the tree line.

My eyesight is, in a word, awful, so I don't do much of anything without wearing my glasses. I'm not much better than blind. But the streets were empty and so I rode forth with a limited view of the world——everything more than a foot away from me was out of focus——and that's when God allowed me to see through His eyes.

You see, I don't like the fact that I don't see well. I consider it an ailment, an affliction. And I don't think I've ever praised God for making me so nearly blind. I am thankful that I'm not fully blind and thankful for the technology of prescription lens, but I don't "rejoice always" when it comes to my eyesight.

On this morning, however, I found myself stunned by the lights as I rode through neighborhoods and parks. There were street lights and yard lamps and porch lights and tail lights on trucks. And they all took on something special when I looked at them in the dawn without the help of my glasses. They sparkled like stars and the single bulbs unfolded like blooming flowers into eight to twelve lights that formed a circle, much like a ball that might hang as an ornament on a Christmas tree. There was beauty in those lights, a radiance that came from these new layers that I saw only because of my physical imperfection.

So I looked at them and a thought overwhelmed me: Thank you God for making me nearly blind.

It was a small thing, if any gift from God can be considered small, but it's the sort of thing I hope I remember when other troubles come my way. Troubles that seem much bigger. There are layers I don't see. There is a God of the universe who knows our imperfections and our trials and our pain. And when I take the time to trust Him and see things His way, the light——the Light!——is always wonderful. Wonderful.

Ode to Spoiled Milk

Oh, bowl of cereal
Dry and flaky
Raisins staring up
With wrinkled faces
Longing for a bath

The spoon, the spoon
Ready and waiting
Waiting, waiting
To dive in and out
With expectations

And there I stand,
Hunger brewing
Breakfast calling
Waiting, waiting
For each sweet bite

Not this morning,
No, not today
Sniffing gently at the cap
Soured lightly
The cold milk’s wrath

—Stephen Caldwell

Adam, Pickups and Original Sin

Deep in the heart of every straight male, as well as a significant percentage of gay men, burns a deep desire to drive and own a pickup.
Dispute me on this one if you like, but my response to any argument on this topic is pretty simple: You have every right to be wrong. Go forth in your ignorance.
The simple reality is that God wired men to love trucks.
The psalmist tells us that God “created my inmost being” and that He “knit me together in my mother's womb.” (Psalm 139:13) That speaks to all of our individual characteristics and of His never-ending understanding of who I am and who you are. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a few common traits, and for guys, one of them is a mystical love for trucks.
My vision of God knitting a man together while he’s in his mother’s womb goes something like this:
“OK, fingers? Check. Toes? Check. Ears? Check. Nose? Check. Eyes? Check. Penis? Check. God-sized void that must be filled only by Me? Check? Unwillingness to ask for directions? Check. Love for pickups? Check. …”
Of course, not every man owns a truck. Some get sidetracked by other mystical motor vehicle loves or by family realities that send them to the minivan section of the car lot. But humankind hasn’t created the swagger wagon that can replace the pickup in the heart of a man. Hasn’t happened. Never will. And no matter what a man drives, he secretly (or not so secretly) would like his fleet to include a pickup.
I think this desire led to original sin. I know, it sounds like a bit of a leap, but stick with me.
Adam and Eve were hanging out in the Garden, and all was right with the world. All the animals had been named, and there was plenty of time to chill out. That’s when Adam had this thought, probably given to him by the Serpent.
“Walking is good and all, but imagine riding around in the garden in a super duty four-by-four long bed with chrome wheels and running boards!”
And one day he’s dreaming about sitting high in a crew cab with all the new world in his windshield when Eve gives him a nudge and says, “Hey, Adam, I’ve been talking to the Lucifer here, and, well, I’ve decided to give this forbidden fruit a try. You cool with that?”
Adam, of course, is thinking about going muddin’ in the south forty of the Garden. “Yeah, babe, whatever,” he says.
Next thing you know, all hell literally is breaking lose, all because Adam was daydreaming about a truck instead of listening to his wife.
Since that time, mankind’s quest for invention has centered on this deep-seeded desire for a pickup.
Look, a stick, let’s make a tool!
Now that we’ve got some tools, let’s make something that will roll. A truck has gotta roll; let’s use the tools to make a wheel!
What can we used to make these wheels go faster? I know: Horses!
Horses are good, but what if created an engine with the power of multiple horses! Then we could go really fast!
Nice car, Mr. Ford, but can you make one where I can sit a little higher and carry stuff in the back?
And that’s how we ended up with pickups.
As for Jesus—the Second Adam, the Perfect Man, the Son of Man, and the Son of God—well, there are those who believe He said the key to salvation is “pickups, the cross and follow me.” I say that’s a blatant miss-interpretation of scripture. But don’t take His specific silence on pickups as condemnation. As with other matters of desire, He tells us to seek first His kingdom and his righteousness and all these things will be given to us. So the way I read it, as long as we keep our eyes and hearts fixed on Him (unlike Adam), He’s perfectly OK with us driving a pickup.