Our Neighbors’ Junk

An ice storm devastated our city earlier this year, and the cleanup process has taken weeks that are turning into months. At our home, it started by clearing the fallen tree limbs and repairing the damage to our home. After professional tree cutters pruned the trees in our yard, those branches were cleared, as well. All the branches, well over a ton for our yard alone, were piled at our street curb, and several weeks passed before city crews came through and hauled them off. The huge machines couldn’t get it all, of course, so yesterday I spent the morning raking and bagging the leftovers.

But that’s not all. Pine trees in the yards of two of our neighbors line the fences of our backyard, and those neighbors took a different approach to their cleanup. The limbs that fell because of the ice storm were collected and hauled off, but they didn’t have the trees pruned. So branches that didn’t fall – branches caught by other branches or that didn’t break off completely – remain high up in those trees.

When I look at those branches as they hang precariously above the fence, I suspect they they’ll fall onto the power lines and knock out our power. I suspect that they’ll eventually land on my side of the fence. I suspect that I’ll clean up my neighbors’ junk. And I know I’ll have the temptation to toss the limbs over the fence into my neighbors’ yards.

This morning, now that some of those limbs have fallen into our yard and suspicion and reality collided, I had this thought: There are lots of times in life when my neighbor’s junk spills into my life and I need to clean it up. If I’m filled with the love of my Savior, I’ll see the need and respond to it instinctively – out of love. If not, I’ll see the need and worry about how it will affect me and complain that I have to “fix” someone else’s problems. I might end up doing it, but more out of duty than love. That’s better than not doing it or tossing the problem back at my neighbor. But it still leaves me with the inner realty that I have my own junk. And I’m thankful that my Savior never hesitates to clean it up for me.

Winterdance

My friend David Jackson gave me the book Winterdance, the true story of how Gary Paulsen came to run -- and survive -- the Iditarod dog race. But it's much more than that. It's about his relationships with the dogs and nature and himself. It's a few years old, but still fresh and worth the read. I had never read Paulsen, but I know he's a popular author among teens and pre-teens, especially boys. Son-in-law Andrew read Hatchet, and I'm pretty sure son Andrew did, as well. Wife Suzanne has read several of his books and likes them. She's not a teen (although she looks like one) or a boy (and she definitely doesn't look like one), but she teaches school and often reads the books along with her students.

presidential prayers

Saw this on Dr. Albert Mohler's blog and felt compelled to post a link to it. He shares a report that indicates the White House now vets the prayers offered prior to the president's speeches. Oh (Big) Brother!!

Review: Coffeehouse Theology

You can read Coffeehouse Theology and never fully understand what the title has to do with the content. And you can read it and wonder why author Ed Cyzewski spent so much space restating points he’d already made. But don’t miss what the book really is: A welcomed addition to the discussions about Christian theology in a postmodern world. The talk about the “emergent” church in the “postmodern” era often drifts into heretical, anything goes, all roads lead the heaven belief systems that, in the end, have little to do with Jesus. Cyzewski brings much-needed balance by arguing that students of God can practice contextual theology without abandoning certain fundamental beliefs. So what if he never establishes the “coffeehouse” metaphor and doesn’t use the analogy as a thread to bring the reader along? And so what if he beats a few horses to death? Perhaps a few overly rigid theologians will read this work and approach God with more of an open mind in light of other viewpoints. And perhaps those who are sliding down the slippery slope of relativism will read it and recognize the value of dropping a few anchors. There are dangers to Cyzewski’s approach, primarily that personal experience will edge out the Bible and the Holy Spirit as the ultimate authority on understanding God. But there’s much to be gained by listening to theologians from different cultures and different points in history and from acknowledging our own biases. Cyzewski’s sees this never strays from the most important aspect of theology, to know God and make Him known. We can never hear that too often.

The Note Taker

It probably started in college, that three-year period in my life when I actually started trying to learn something from the classes I took. In my effort to remember something from all the stuff those professors required us to read, I'd go through the passages with a pen and highlighter at the ready. There are those who are appalled at the idea of writing in a book, but not doing so is like having fine china that never leaves a cabinet.

Lately, I've taken to rediscovering my markings. When I finish a book, I create a Word document and type in all the things I underlined or highlighted, as well as any notes or questions I wrote in the margins. At the top, I write down "key words" from the passages. My theory is that when I'm thinking or writing about a topic -- say "headship" as it relates to living out God's calling as a husband and father -- I can do a search of my "book quotes" folder and find relevant ideas from other authors.

There's another benefit, however. Typing out the passages that caught my attention allows me to think again about why they were important. I can reinforce the lessons or see if I still disagree with what I once saw as the author's "lame" point.

It's a slow but highly rewarding process. For instance, a few weeks ago I re-read Tender Warrior by Stu Weber, and last night I started typing up the underlined passages when I came upon the passage that the Holy Spirit used some 12 years ago to shake me from the trap of agnosticism and into the freedom of following Christ. Looking at it again and again, I realized it probably doesn't mean much to other men and that it certainly doesn't have the deep meaning and power that it had and has for me. But that's the wonder of words and, even more, the wonder of the Holy Spirit. He took these two sentences -- "God has given men a certain amount of authority. But they are first and foremost men under authority." Page 87 -- and totally changed my life.

For some, it's an interesting statement. For me, it's worth re-reading -- again and again and again and again ...

ice games

All things considered, I'd rather have power to heat our home and keep our food cool or frozen and to give light for nightly encounters with great books. And, yes, television and computers. There is nothing like chaos, however. Walking through the frozen streets together amazed at the force of nature. Sitting around a table lit only by candles and a battery-operated lamp, playing board games and laughing with each other. Maybe we can make an agreement with Mother Nature: Once a year, we'll turn off our man-made power for 48 hours and live off the Light that's within us. And, in return, she can spare us the storm that knocks out power and puts us into a deep, deep freeze.

Mommas, Daddies, Babies and Money

Three stories above the fold on Page 1 in today's Arkansas Democrat-Gazette offer a glimpse into our culture's misguided priorities. The lede story is on the proposed "stimulus plan" -- more money, more money, more money. Another story is on the decline of the family unit as seen in recent research on marriage rates, divorce rates and the number of couples who live together without any formal commitment. The third story is about the new president lifting bans that made it more difficult to kill babies before they are born.

quotes of interest.

"They (folks who live together but aren't married) can amass a good financial foundation and still be sexually satisfied."-- Rebecca Ward, social worker and family therapist.

Comment: I wonder if Ms Ward believes that or is stating that she thinks it's the reasoning many non-married sexually active couples would give for not getting married. Most research I've read shows that married couples report much higher levels of sexual satisfaction than non-married couples. I can't recall research on which couplets do best at amassing financial fortunes, but is that really the measuring stick for happiness, success, joy, peace?

"America can survive a financial crisis, it already has survived several of them, but it cannot survive the demise of it's most basic unit of civilization -- marriage and the family." --Dennis Rainey of FamilyLife, noting that there were 430,000 unmarried couples living together in America in 1960 and 6.4 million in 2007.

Comment: is it a stretch to think that our transition from a country that valued life and commitment in marriage and the importance of good mothers and fathers into a country that values self-focused goals and ambitions might somehow form a connection to the greed and the lack of accountability/personal responsibility that brought on our national economic crisis?

Finding my inner Tender Warrior

With thousands of great books out there among the millions of titles available, reading the same book more than once has never made much sense to me. I skim through books I've read in search of some particular points, but I don't re-read books -- except, of course, when I do. Right now I'm re-reading Tender Warrior by Stu Weber. I'm pretty sure this is the third time I've read it, and, other than the Bible, it's one of the few books I've ever fully read more than once. There are other books I'd enjoy reading again, but they always stay on the self because there's always a never-read book on my desk or nightstand.

Tender Warrior holds a special place in my life journey. It was a gift from a friend, but I can't recall why he thought an agnostic like me would be interested in a biblical view of manhood. But I promised him I'd read it, and I did. That was some 14 years ago, and here's the biggest, most important thing I learned from it: My authority isn't the highest authority. Men who lead with real authority and influence always live under real authority and influence. With this realization, I then had to decide under what authority I would place my life. Having long studied the major religions of the world, I knew all of them were lacking but one: Faith in Christ.

But Tender Warrior isn't one of those books written to convert heathens like me to the Way. It is, most of all, a wonderful description of biblical manhood -- the tender warrior. I know that if I live out the principles in this book, I'm a better man for it and my wife and family gain. And I know I need a constant remember of what those principle are. So I should re-read this book far more often than I do. The lessons are based on timeless truths, so they never get old.

When Gone Ain't Gone

My father died when I was in college, so it always hits me hard when I hear that a friend has lost a father. It's never easy to lose a parent, no matter how young or old you are, no matter how young or old your parents are, no matter how "good" or how "bad" they were as parents.

The father of a friend of mine died this week, and, as it so happens, the father had lived a pretty long life by today's standards. He had children and grandchildren. And he had been a man of influence on the lives of many, many people. He suffered a great deal at the end of his life, and the people who knew him are glad he has relief from that pain. His son helped take care of him until the very end, sitting with him when he took his final breath, always honoring him through his actions.

They'll miss him, but only for a short time. They know his death is not eternal, because he was a man who long ago embraced the greatest gift ever offered to the human race -- salvation. And they'll see his legacy on earth for as long as they are here, because the people who knew him are part of that legacy. He touched them, and they're touching others.

Ella Bird

My little Ella was a bird
Living among the trees.
She hid within the branches
and play among the leaves.
-- By Ella Caldwell and Podge Caldwell
January 2, 2009

Christmas inside the box

Inner Doppler

The cold, misty rain
gives way to blue skies,
and then again to change,
to snow or heat or floods from storms.
And then we look outside.

The Jesus Test

The e-mail set me off. Maybe I already was in one of "those moods" and only needed a little spark on my fuel-soaked last nerve. Normally, I breeze right through these e-mails, hitting delete. They usually come from well-meaning folks, often from friends and not people I want to totally screen from my e-mail box with some sort of "rule." I don't read them and I don't respond to them.

Not so this one. After scrolling through all the addresses that got this e-mail, I came to a series of photos of Jesus. Nothing wrong with photos of Jesus. I like Jesus. Then I got to the bottom, where there was a "Jesus Test." It was pass/fail, it said. Send the e-mail to 10 people and I pass. Don't send it, and I fail. "This is the simplest test," it concluded. "If you Love God, and are not ashamed of all the marvelous things he has done for you, send this to ten people."

And here I thought I'd passed the "Jesus test" when I had that personal conversation with Him several years ago. He said to me, "Stephen, without Me, you fail. With me, you pass." And I said, "I'm with You, Bro!" (that's the short version)

Now I find out there's another test. Dang it all. How did I miss the test?

The appropriate thing, of course, was to hit delete and go back to work. But I'm weak. That's why I need Jesus in the first place. I tend to offend. And I probably did with my response to the e-mail sender:

"I appreciate the sentiment," I wrote, "but I reject the suggestion that I somehow love Jesus less if I don’t send this to other people. I’m not ashamed of Him, but I’m not sending it to anyone. Hopefully, everyone I know already knows that I’m not ashamed of Jesus. How about this: If you aren’t ashamed of Him, go sit with 10 non-believers and tell them about your personal relationship with Christ."

How's that for overly blunt? Just me spreading a little Christmas cheer, right?

In retrospect, I wish I'd sent nothing or that I'd sent something gentle (not that Jesus was always gentle, but, hey, I know Jesus and I'm not Him). I can be a real SOB. But I stand by my point, which is why I feel the need to spend my lunch hour both admonishing myself and sharing that point here: Our test is pass/fail, all right, but it has nothing to do with forwarding an e-mail. It has to do with saying, "I'm with You, Bro" or rejecting His help. If we really accepted His help, others should see it in the "fruit" of our lives. So while that wasn't the intent of the e-mail, that's the reminder I got from it: To bear more fruit and less spam.

Bat Wisdom

Batman: "Nobody wants war."
Robin: "Gee, Batman. Belgravia's such a small country. We'd beat them in a few hours."
Batman: "Yes, and then we'd have to support them for years."

Oswald Chambers quote

"Trust God and do the next thing."

Evangelicals and Elections: A Measured Response

11/6/08
By Stephen Caldwell

American evangelicals who insist on collectively wringing their hands and gnashing their teeth now that Barack Obama’s earned the title of president-elect need to pause and collectively take in this advice: Stop it. Just stop.

There were many reasons to oppose Obama’s candidacy, but there also are reasons to embrace the new reality – both the reality of the short-term positives that might come from it and the reality of the bigger vision we, as evangelicals, hold in common.

The idea that this turn in history represents the “beginning of the end” is true, but no more true than any other day between now and “the end” – which we, as evangelicals, really see as the beginning anyway.

I speak this truth as one of you.

While I’ve never been issued a card or learned any secret handshake, it’s fair to put me in the bucket commonly known as “evangelical.” Nevermind that I prefer no particular label or that, if forced to pick, it would be, rather simply, “follower of Jesus.”

In a nation that’s compelled to label its residents, however, I don’t shy away from the evangelical tag. My issue with the label isn’t with the defined notion of it, but with the perceived notion of it over the last 20 or so years. The group becomes defined by its actions, or, as its supreme leader once put it, the fruit that it bears. And, frankly, we bear some pretty rotten fruit from time to time (not unlike everyone else).

The evangelical movement has a long, mostly positive history, and much of it includes almost nothing to do with politics (even thought many wonderful politicians, in fact, have been evangelicals). And there were glorious decades when “evangelical” wasn’t considered a voting block. Presidents, if you can imagine it, were elected without exit polling that showed how the “white evangelicals” voted in Ohio.

Back then, the evangelical movement focused more on allowing God to work through its people so that He might add to the “elect” rather than on waging battles to elect certain candidates or creating a political power base.

Now I’m told to “vote God” or “vote the Bible” or “vote Jesus,” as if any mortal might know what the heck that means. Well, for one thing it means asking more than any candidate could live up to. We elect men and women, none of whom are perfect and, therefore, all of whom are sure to disappoint. So while we can carefully consider their policies and their character and their leadership skills and how all those things fit with current challenges and with our values and beliefs, in the end we’re called to something higher, that is to love God and to love others regardless of the politics of the day.

In a practical way, that might suggest that we love President-elect Obama even if we voted for John McCain, and that one way to do that is to stop sending e-mails to everyone in the address book suggesting that Obama is Hitler or spreading some other lie or half-truth.

It suggests that we pray for our leader, whoever it is, just as we pray for our closest friends and our most pressing enemies. (See 1 Peter 2:13, Romans13:1-4, 1 Timothy 12:2, among others.)

It suggests that we remind ourselves that being Christian or evangelical doesn’t mean automatically voting for the person with an “R” next to his or her name. I know people who love and follow Jesus with far greater abandon than myself – people I consider heroes of the faith – who voted for Obama. Guess what? I’m convinced they aren’t going to hell.

Indeed, perhaps the most positive outcome from the election is that we, as evangelicals, can go back to being evangelicals and not a voting block. We can rebuild our “brand,” as the friend of a friend put it.

“I believe that the president elect will restore the good name of evangelical Christians by reminding them that spiritual victories in this world are not achieved though mighty armies, mighty political leaders or the mighty dollar, but by the saving grace of the Carpenter from Nazareth,” this friend of a friend wrote in a post-election day e-mail. “That the proper role of His church is to share through love and service the true Hope of the world who resides not in 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue but in each and every human heart.”

To that, perhaps, we could offer a collective and heartfelt, “Amen.”

-- end --

The Jesus Ballot

The other day I told a friend, without giving it much thought at all, that I didn't think Jesus would vote. His immediate reaction was that of course Jesus would vote. Now, having given it some thought, I'm still not sure. My initial reasoning was that Jesus seemed fine leaving the affairs of government to mankind. Render unto Caesar, and all that. Then again, Jesus never side-stepped a debate. So then I wondered about the vote Jesus would cast, if He were, in fact, inclined to vote. Would He vote for the most godly candidate? The candidate with the most pure heart? The candidate with the best ideas about governing? The candidate most likely to protect life? The environment? The poor? Or, having divine foresight, would he simply vote for the person He knew would win (who, in fact, might be nothing like Jesus)? Ultimately, of course, the question has about as much merit as asking what Jesus would drive (assuming He'd drive, my guess is a white horse) or even what Jesus would do (WWJD) in any particular situation. The bigger and far better question seems this: What would Jesus have me do to bring glory to His name?

The Second Half

Since I left my post at the newspaper at the beginning of this year, I've spent plenty of time sitting around in my PJs watching SportsCenter. But I've worked a little, too! Actually, I've been working on all sorts of interesting projects, including two different books. One of those is about to be released. It's a coffee table book geared toward people who are interested living with significance for others, especially in the second half of life. We have 25 feature-type stories with some great art work. My friends at Doxa Total Design did the design. I helped the author, Lloyd Reeb, with the writing. It was a ton of fun to learn the stories of these people, and I only regret I couldn't share more of what they taught me.

Here's a link to more information. It includes two sample chapters:

The Second Half

I'll tell you front-up that I won't make any more or any less money if you buy the book, but I would like for you to check it out. You might want to buy it/read it, you might want to buy it for a friend, or you might just enjoy the sample chapters as a way of seeing something I've contributed to over the last six or eight months. If nothing else, it's proof that I've missed a few SportsCenters.

Emerson quote

"Who you are speaks so loudly I can't hear what you're saying."

Grizz

She limped across the floor, hurting, it seemed, from some injury to her leg or her paw, perhaps from some jaunt across the yard in pursuit of a squirrel or a bird. Give it time, we were told, and we did. We gave it time, but it only got worse, until, this time, the vet took x-rays and found within her bones those cells that weren't behaving normally.
They call it cancer.
We have four children, mostly grown now, ages 17 to 27, and we've always had pets. Two, Maddie the collie and King Tut the cat, no longer are around. They died of illness related to old age, and we grieved their passing but saw it coming.
Grizzly is no pup, but she never lacked for energy or zest for life. I wrote about her once or twice in The Dad Zone column and even let her write about herself in a guest column. thedadzone She greeted us with great enthusiasm, protected our territory with zeal and made for a great jogging partner. All of this was true until two weeks ago.
So this is different, this dealing with the unexpected news that life so vibrant so soon will end. This walking in the door and seeing her on doggie bed, not bouncing in front of me we some toy in her mouth as a greeting gift.
Sad? The English language falls short with that description.
The dow is down and politics bring little that encourages the heart. But there is hope even in the darkest of times. All this other ground, as the song so aptly puts it, is sinking ground. It's not the solid rock on which we are invited to stand.
Grizzly will stay with us a few more days, perhaps weeks, and then we'll say goodbye, keeping only the memories of a dog rescued from an apartment complex trash bin, a mixed breed pup that always seemed to know every day was a gift.
Yes, there's a lesson in that, and we take our lessons on life from wherever God presents them.