Monday, January 30, 2012

Shells

Popcorn . Who doesn't  love popcorn? It's one of those foods when my wife asks me if I want some I say no but end up eating half her bowl . Or you enter a theater completely stuffed from dinner yet find yourself sitting  in your seat with a bucket between your legs . Something about that smell , that buttery popcorn smell that suppresses reason and common sense and makes you eat . Same thing happens to me with doughnuts but that's another post for another day .

The best popcorn is movie theater popcorn . It's not as good as it was a few years ago when they popped it in the fatty unhealthy oil but still so good. I've tried nachos at the movies but it's not as satisfying . Probably because there's not enough cheese to go with the amount of chips you get . I hate running out of cheese . I heard in some places they sell sushi in theaters . That's messed up .

There was one movie I didn't finish my popcorn in . Too scared . Daaa-dum . . . Daaa-dum . . . Da-dum da-dum da-dum . . . Jaws . I can't imagine why my mom thought it was a good idea to let an 11 year old go see humans ripped apart by a huge shark . After the first girl bought it my popcorn hit the floor and my hands covered my eyes for the rest of the movie .

I quit taking baths after that . Partially because I was eleven but really because I thought sharks could come up through the drain . I mean , if there were rats and alligators in the sewers was it beyond the realm of possibility there were sharks? If one of those babies came up through the drain I'd have nowhere to go . At least if I were showering I'd be on my feet and have half a chance . Stupid I know , but I was eleven .

We didn't go to the beach much after that . Well , we went but not in the water . No sir . Not THIS fish stick! I made my time on land , building sandcastles , playing in the dunes , and collecting shells . I had a huge shell collection I kept in a box in my room . I loved collecting shells - I had some really beautiful ones . I never found two halves connected together though. I would have liked one of those .

My friend died Saturday , the one I wrote about last week . I saw her in the casket tonight . She looked . . . ok . Just an empty shell . It made me think what will be left of me when I'm gone . The shell . Sure , there's the body which , I hope will be much thinner at that point . But it's only half the shell . What will people see when they pick up the other half ? Will they even find the other half ? The half that was supposed to love his neighbor as himself . The half that was supposed to love the lord his God with all his heart . I hope I have that half that made my world a better place. That made Jesus known and made Him look good .

When you see me in that pine box one day , in my flip flops and t-shirt , I hope , it's not the only half you see .














Monday, January 23, 2012

Glutton

Smoking . Now THERE was a good idea. . . .

My dad smoked . A couple packs a day I think . An awful habit but I don't blame him for it . He grew up in the thirties and forties, back when they gave menthol cigarettes to school kids . "Why yes Billy , the answer IS five . Come get a cigarette". That was back when smoking was cool . Nobody died from it then . Cancer came later . Everybody smoked . Moms and dads, teaches and preachers. Our milkman smoked . Mom seemed to especially enjoy a smoke after he left . Weird to have a refrigerator in your bedroom I always thought . . .

We hated going to the store with dad . He burned through half a pack before we got to the end of the street. And what is it with smokers who get out of their car and light up for that 100' walk to the store entrance? Wouldn't want to get caught in all that fresh air and have a seizure or something. Dad would stand at the front doors and finish off his smoke before going in then stub it out in those ashtrays filled with sand.  Of course this was after they said you couldn't smoke IN the store. I remember Nate the deli guy with a three foot ash hanging off his cigarette as he scooped potato salad in a container. I kept waiting but it never fell . Nate was a professional smoker .

Remember the smoking sections in the restaurants?  I use the term "section" loosely . If people are smoking in a restaurant there is no "section". One place they put up a lattice wall between rows of tables. "Oh look honey! A lattice wall. Nothing will get through THERE". Dad smoked until the food came . He and the waitress' had this thing going where they wouldn't bring the food out until they saw he was stubbing out his third cigarette. And he'd light up as the last bite was down. But like I say, I don't blame him. Just how his generation was.

Sonnys Bar-B-Q. Now that was a place I didn't mind the smokers . It had a smoking section on the other side of a half wall .When the smoking section was full we'd sit NEXT to the wall so dad could stand up and lean over  and breath from time to time. The food at Sonnys is awesome! What a good smell- all that meat smoking in the kitchen and the fries and garlic bread. Man .You sat inside at picnic tables topped with  a red and white checked table cloth and the waitresses' called you 'Honey' , 'Darlin' or 'Sweetheart. They smoked too . That , was some good eatin'.

Sonnys changed a bit over the years. No more smoking except for the meat . They added a salad bar . For the women I guess . They got rid of the picnic benches in favor of padded seats . If you eat at Sonnys you HAVE padded seats ! They also started doing all you can eat and that's when I knew that God was real. They kept coming back and saying things like "Y'all want some more? " or "Yer not done yet are ya darlin'?" and I knew what the kings of old must have felt like when thinly veiled women fed them grapes as they reclined.

Of course I can't do that now . I'm trying to take better of myself these days so we stay away from the all you can eat. Well, it's probably that I don't have the money more than the health issue. We still go on occasion and I eat all I can and waddle out. About half way through I undo the belt and when I get to the car I pop the button and unzip. Ahhhh . I've had enough . I feel awful but it's a good awful . I like it but I'm worthless afterwords .

I was feeling this way the other day and got to thinking about another aspect of my life . I'm a little shallow and a lot selfish I think . If I had the money I'm afraid I'd consume all that the world has to offer and get fat and full and be worthless . Maybe why I never won the lottery . I want to believe I'd skip the big house to help a neighbor keep her small one . Instead of a new ride keep what I got and buy some used wheels to help a guy get to work . I could go on . I'm not against having stuff but having TOO much stuff. I'm afraid of not finding the line I'm not supposed to cross . I don't know why I'm thinking about this . I don't have much .

Well, since it's all I've got, maybe I should try being faithful with the small things. . . .









Saturday, January 21, 2012

...Going ...Going ....Go....

I went to visit a friend in hospice today . She's dying . She's the mother of one of the kids we grew up with . Cancer . I probably hadn't seen her in a couple of years so I wasn't ready for what I saw . You know those stick figure people you draw as a kid? She was like that . Only smaller .

My dad died a few years ago . Cancer as well . He didn't last  long after he found out - about 3 months and most of that wasn't too painful for him . More of an inconvenience . The end came quick . About a week in hospice and like a puff of smoke he was gone. Poof ! 74 years of opportunity ended . Was it enough?

I don't know what to say to people on their death beds. Thankfully I've not had a lot of practice but I wish I had some tools of conversation to use here . The usual 'Hi-how are you" or 'Well don't you look good today' don't really work . I used that last one today . On a stick figure . That's why they don't normally let me in . I just looked her in the eyes and had not much to say . I wanted to make her feel good . To smile or laugh and see some life return to that frail body . I wanted to make her forget about the end of the journey in this earthly vessel . I wanted her to have a good day .

 I don't know why I'm writing this today. Feeling a little helpless. I think sadness as well. Sad yeah because she's a friend (though not a close one) but I think more so because of my life. Or more accurately the lack of life in my life . Where did it go, this life I've been given . What did I spend it on? On WHO did I spend it? I'm sad to say far too often it was on me . I was dealt perfect hand in life from the Dealer who is so wise . I should have gone all in at every opportunity but I held onto my chips and ended up playing penny ante poker with the riches before me .

My prayer today  is that I won't someday be a stick figure of my former self laying in a bed before eternity and at my side a pile of chips . I hope I spend it all . I want to go all in....


Thursday, January 19, 2012

I'm Scared

Parents lie to kids. Like about Santa Clause and the rest of the fairy tale bunch. Though I'm not sure about the tooth fairy. I know I never put money under the kids pillows but on the morning after the kids were a buck richer. I asked my wife but she said SHE didn't do it. Hummm. I think I believe her. But she IS a parent. . . .

They lie about other things too. "Try it. You'll like it". They KNEW Brussel sprouts were gross when they put 'em on your plate. What is this thing that parents try to get kids to eat things they would NEVER eat? I fed my kids doughnuts. It was hard enough to get them to like me with out feeding them something that's edible only if hidden deep within a casserole.

"You'll have a wonderful time at Camp. Two weeks with your friends hiking, swimming, bonfires and games! It'll be good for you" mom lied and smiled as she pushed me out the car door. "I thought we were going to McDonalds. . ." I cry. "Oh, well, we'll get there on the way back in 2 weeks darling. Now run along. Your father forgot your backpack and sleeping bag. Just ask around. I'm sure you'll make do. . ." she says as the car peels away. It wasn't wonderful. Or good either. Except for mom and dad. I had a baby brother 9 months later. . .

I'm a quiet and shy person and that came out at camp. I got picked on. And made fun of, the butt of a really embarrassing practical joke. As a little kid there are no odd or strange kids, just boy or girl kids. Pretty much all the same. But at some point they figure out that others are different and that some how some are more normal or acceptable than others. I'm not near smart enough to figure out that dynamic but I do know where I was on the totem pole that summer. The bottom. The part underground bottom.

Different was what I was but not odd. Shoot, probably half the kids out there are sorta shy. But I was the target then. I don't know when I decided in my life to be "normal" and un-picked-on-able (it's a word now) but I suspect it was around this time. I decided to do nothing that put me outside the normal range. Well, I don't remember consciously deciding this but on a gut level this is what happened. And it ruined me.

I had breakfast with a friend the other day. He loves Jesus. I like that. I'm glad I know some people who Love Jesus. I love Jesus. Maybe better stated is I like Jesus. I like Him a lot but on most days I don't think it crosses into that love category. I don't want to go full on love in case someone is watching. Wouldn't want to be thought of as not. . .normal. Yep. That's me, Mr. lukewarm, living fat and happy in the land of Laodocea. Fact is I have several friends who aren't embarrassed to be embarrassed for the Gospel. They're not afraid to tell people that Jesus loves them, no matter the response. It doesn't matter because they love him. They gave up father and mother, brother and sister, home and inheritance to follow Jesus. They're weird. They're not normal.They are what I always wanted to be. A Jesus freak.

I want to be one. But I'm scared.













Thursday, January 12, 2012

I Had Something to Say

I saw a study the other day that confirmed what we all knew: As you get older your mental capacity begins to wane. It said this begins to happen after 40 which is much younger than I'd have imagined. I'm 48 so I guess that explains a lot. That and I have the IQ of a marble.


I was in a bible study the other night. We were talking about Isaiah 58. Did you know that was in there? I musta missed it in all those read through the bible in a year programs. Oh wait. I never DID do those. Why I didn't make it as a Baptist I think. Anyway, it's a really cool and powerful chapter. Don't wait until you're 48 to find it.

 So we were in this study and I was having a hard time following, partly because I'm a guy with ADD and mostly because I'm 8 years into my diminishing mental capacity. This happens a lot to me so I usually tune out the speaker (it's not on purpose mind you, it just kinda happens) and I begin read and re-read the scripture we're studying, hoping something will make some sense. Aaannd...hoping that the leader wont ask me what I thought about what they just said.

Isaiah 58 is great and during the teaching I was reading and reading and thinking "Wow! There's something here"! and wanting to get that "something" out of it so I could speak up and be profound. Which is wholly out of my realm but hey, this was a bible study and miracles still happen. For 30 minutes I sat there with something on the tip of my brain but I couldn't pull it off. The thoughts didn't jell. man. It would have been good.

Did you ever see Braveheart? One of my most favorite movies for a lot of reasons, one of which is the scene where William Wallace shows up before a battle and rides his horse before his Scottish brothers and gives this impassioned speech. He's loud and passionate and articulate and as he parades before them and speaks the men rise up and cheer and march to battle because they know his words to be true. I love that scene.

As I was reading verses 6-9 of chapter 58 it kept coming to me in some sort of impassioned voice, like from someone who really meant it. In a William Wallace voice:
 6-9"This is the kind of fast day I'm after:
   to break the chains of injustice,
   get rid of exploitation in the workplace,
   free the oppressed,
   cancel debts.
What I'm interested in seeing you do is:
   sharing your food with the hungry,
   inviting the homeless poor into your homes,
   putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad,
   being available to your own families.
Do this and the lights will turn on,
   and your lives will turn around at once.
Your righteousness will pave your way.
   The God of glory will secure your passage.
Then when you pray, God will answer.
   You'll call out for help and I'll say, 'Here I am.' (The Message)

It, was, great! Except that's not what everyone was talking about. The conversation had morphed (or maybe planned. How would I know. I wasn't listening) into confessing our hang up and bearing each others burdens. I love that and do we need it. Wish I knew how we got there though.

I confess things to people. Maybe too many things to too many people. Which is why nobody calls. I have lots of battles with lots of sins and it feels like it's too overwhelming for someone to listen to. They do because they care and they love me but after a while they stop calling. And I point a finger at no one because I'm the same. I care but I'm too busy with family and work and more than I'd like, keeping up with the Jones'. I care but only to a point, the point where it interferes with my pleasure and comfort. I fear I've become the Jones' and I've found them to be selfish and morally bankrupt. Woe is me.

In those verses He was saying, with His teeth gritted, to pour your life out, give it away for the benefit of those in need. And He said this is not something you do at you convenience or for a short time. This is a lifestyle. Mark, you do it forever. Wow. That's harsh and hard. But here's the payoff. He said when you call out He'll say 'Here I am'. Oh how I've longed to hear Him.

I guess what I had to say to the group but was too dumb to pull together was this: Confess your sins to one another and bear each others burdens. Do this because we must. But be prepared to give your life to those who entrust theirs to you. In the same way Dad passionately ask you to feed the hungry, clothe the naked and give shelter to the homeless, you must give your life in service to those who struggle. To those who need to feel the physical touch of Gods hand. Be in it for the long haul.Because each one of us is precious.

I want to do this. I want to hear him say 'Here I am".