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Yes, I know, just days ago I was singing the praises of the miracle of technology. My joy was overflowing at the advent of such wonders as Facebook and ICQ. Forget the distance barriers of this massive planet. Thanks to the World Wide Web (and of course, Al Gore), I can stay connected to my friends from California to the Czech Republic at the click of a mouse.
That was then. This is now. That was when I was clicking the mouse on the right icons. This is post “dumbest click in the history of my mouse pointing finger.” That was when my emails went only to the person I was wanting them to. This is post the email that went to 19 extra people that I didn’t want it to. That was when I loved technology. This is when I hate it.
All right. Not really. I can hardly blame technology for my moronic error (though Al Gore is still in the blame game running!). My fingers sprinted when they should have been walking, and before I knew it the deed was done. Most of us have experienced this dreaded nightmare. Someone sends us a note, we hit reply, share our thoughts and reflections, and away it goes. Then, somehow, somewhere, at some horrific moment, it comes to our attention that our thoughts and reflections were just shared with way more people than only our Fav’ Five!
The full damage of my error is not yet known, but soon will be. The apologies have been sent, the prayers continue to be uttered, and the forgiveness begged for. Only time will tell whether the blunder can be forgotten. Or maybe more importantly, whether my heart can truly be heard (or in this case, read).
You see, that’s the really scary part. Mistakes happen, all the time. Errors are made, more than we care to admit. It’s almost Biblical, “For all have sent, and fallen short of the wisdom of emails.” But the really frightening thing is that when it happens…our heart is out there. Out there to be judged. Out there to be evaluated. Out there for others to decide how sincere and pure our intentions and thoughts were.
When we stop and think about it, that doesn’t just apply to electronic communication. That is just life. People are always about the business of interpreting our words, our expressions, and our actions. Often, they start with a negative paradigm, and we don’t stand a chance to begin with. Other times, the benefit of the doubt is in place, and caution becomes the better part of valor. Then, on those rare occasions, the starting point is actually an assumption that we really are good, well intentioned people, simply trying to live the love of Christ in the world around us.
Which of course begs the question, which kind of person am I? What filter do I put others through? Am I starting from a launch of point of hope and positive expectations, or are others behind the 8 ball before they even click on “New”? Something for me to think about, as I go utter another prayer for forgiveness.
If those who know such things are correct, than I am right on track. Or so I think. After 15 days, more than 8,000 miles, and 12 time zone changes, I have just about figured out where I am. They say to give it a day recovery for each time zone you cross. So six time zones on Tuesday should have my body caught up by Sunday. Worse case scenario.
I’m learning that there are a number of lags that are suffered from such an experience as my recent trip to the Czech Republic. Yes, there is jet lag. That physical pounding that a body takes by flying all night and getting off a plane somewhere that is just starting their day. Or dozing on a plane that lands somewhere that is just ready to go to sleep. That is a definite lag. Especially following a week long camp with about five hours of sleep a night. Except of course on the “I can stay up all night, and you can’t” contest night!
There is the mental lag that hitches on to the physical lag. If “I think therefore I am”, well, I’m not sure that I am quite yet. Sleep deprivation, dietary changes, and processing all kinds of new experiences can do that to you. I mean, a week ago I am playing a survival game, hiding by myself behind a tree in a Czech forest at midnight. Now, I’m trying to remember how to spell my message title so the worship folder is error free on Sunday. Talk about mind games. I still can’t remember if thank you is “Thank You”, “Merci” or “Dekuji”.
However, those two lags pale in comparison to the third one…emotions. Make new friends. Share life together. Laugh and cry as if you have known each other for years. And then hop on a plane and forget it all. Now that will mess you up!
I suppose we could just play it safe and not get too attached. Play the casual “North American Come to Save the World” role, and not really connect. Lord knows that would be easier. And for the past 48 hours, I have asked myself why I don’t take that approach.
But the answer is obvious – Why would I? Okay, so I know that is a question, but it is also an answer. Why would we have the chance to share life together, and just keep things simple? Why would we have the opportunity to jump into the mud and grime that is our daily struggles, but choose to stand on the edge wishing each other luck? Why would we not ask…even beg God for once in a lifetime opportunities to really connect with another person that He created full of purpose, beauty and wonder?
A few days ago I was standing in a hall, holding back the tears, when I looked at a friend…a new friend…and said, “It is so much harder to care.” And it is. I was standing in the Prague town square, again fighting back tears, and asking, “Why does satan get to win so often?” And he does. But I wouldn’t invest my life any other way.
So I’ll lag behind physically, mentally, and even emotionally, relying on Facebook and ICQ to keep some beautiful new friendships alive. Knowing that it is the harder way to live life. But pretty sure it is the way life was meant to be lived.
My life is about to get really, really adventurous. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you when, how, why or where. Then some random internet blog reading fanatic would know when to break into my house, kidnap my kids, or encourage the SWC Board to reconsider this whole Chip Monck as pastor thing.
However, as a part of my great adventures, I will be experiencing an extended separation from one of the true loves of my life…my laptop. Which is intimately connected to another true love of my life…the internet.
So, rather than inspiring profound reflections from you that will result in rabid postings which I am unable to keep up with, I thought I would provide you a few pointless observations from my life that you can run with, run from, or print out and run over.
The Price of Gasoline – It would seem that there should be some automatic disqualifications from complaining about the price of gas. One, if you are holding a $5 cup of coffee, you can’t complain about $4 petro. Two, if you are driving an SUV…alone, you can’t complain about the price of gas. Three, if you insist on driving 65 mph, passing me, and glaring at me for driving to slow…on 55 mph New Circle Road, nope, you can’t complain either.
The Price of Starbucks – Speaking of disqualification number one, that same $5 cup of Joe disqualifies you from a few other things. A) Criticizing the quality of the FREE cup of coffee offered by church welcome centers. B) Gripping about the cost of a gallon of milk. After all, it is less than $5, and you get a whole gallon. C) Complaining about people who wear or carry anything for “image” sake.
While we are on drink prices, can someone explain to me why so many people go in to Speedway, and take advantage of the “any size drink for 79 cents” by selecting one of the smaller size cups?
Finally, The Price of Church – “All the church wants is my money.” Same is true of Kroger and Wal-Mart, but we aren’t avoiding them…are we? “Well, the church shouldn’t waste so much money on fancy smanchy furnishings.” True…God’s house shouldn’t be near as nice, high tech, or cared for as our own. After all, He already has that whole mansion in heaven thing. “Then why do we have to pay the pastor so much?” Because if you didn’t, who would bless you with such thought provoking musings on an airport cocktail napkin?
Let’s be honest. $4 per gallon of gas is definitely an inconvenient truth. The Dow Jones Industrials taking a vacation from the 12,000 plus land seems like quite an inconsiderate way to treat my 403b, 501k, W-2, or wherever my retirement resides. $15 to check my duffle bag on the airplane because it didn’t fit in the strange little demo overhead compartment appears a bit excessive. But shutting down 600 Starbucks…now we have a crisis!
This move by ‘Fivebucks’ could cost as many as 12,000 full and part-time jobs. “So.” It could result in a 7% drop in the mighty workforce of ‘Stirbucks.’ Again I say, “So!” 100 million dollars could be left on the ‘Coffeessofreakinhotyoucantdrinkittillnext4thofjulybucks’ conference room table. Must I repeat myself, “So what!”
Let’s get down to the important realities of this move. For starters, this will only leave me with 6,600 U.S. locations to find my daily fix. I could very well have to figure out how to get through my 30 minute shopping spree at Kroger without a double mocha no fat latte! How can I possibly kill two hours of flight layover in Miami without my peppermint no foam triple espresso? When I have $3.50 in my pocket, burning a hole, and have to decide whether to put it in my gas tank or my gut tank…there might not even be a choice to make. This is serious stuff.
Well, except for the minor detail that I don’t drink coffee. And the major detail that this is just one more sign of an ever looming reality: it is time to get our financial homes in order. In fact, for some, the clock may have already run out.
Larry Burkett, Howard Dalton, and even the highly positive and always entertaining Dave Ramsey have been telling us for years that this day was coming. A day when no job is safe, no expense is easily manageable, and no paycheck seems able to keep the deposits outweighing the withdrawals. A day when home foreclosures have increased from half a percent in 2006, to one percent in 2007, to some states reporting over 3.5% of all homes in foreclosure in 2008! Drive home tonight, and imagine one out of every 20 houses you pass containing a family that is losing their home.
This is a day when chapter 7 bankruptcy filings more than doubled between the 1st quarter of 2006, and the 3rd quarter of 2007. This is a day when to keep up appearances people are still buying large houses, but when you walk through the front door they are void of furniture. Let’s just keep the blinds closed.
So are we ready to adjust on the fly? Will we read the signs around us, and re-prioritize our financial lives to address what matters most? Will we find away to shut off the voice of the world, and finally tune into the voice of God regarding our stewardship of all that He has blessed us with? Something to ponder as I hunt down one more $7.95 Carmel Apple Cider…Venti of course.
Reading has never been my strength or even a favorite hobby, but lately I have found myself working through books at a rather healthy clip. Some of them have been really good. Ted Dekker’s novels will keep the pages turning (though I don’t recommend reading them before going to bed, or while alone in a dark house!).
One recent book in particular has provided me with plenty of internal angst. It is one of those books that I like (well written and informative) while simultaneously disdaining (hitting a bit too close to home…and true). The book is called "UnChristian" and describes the picture those “outside” the church have of those “inside” the church. A picture that includes such insulting labels as hypocritical, antihomosexual, sheltered, and too political.
It combines with another book I have been reading that could also be entitled “UnChristian.” It is the book of Matthew from the Bible, and in the fifth chapter it provides a picture of what God intended our lives to look like in a few short phrases known as the Beatitudes. I say it could be called “UnChristian” because the picture it paints is far from the picture that most Christians are living. Or, to be more honest and accountable, far from the picture that I am living.
Just listen to a few of these descriptors. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.” Is that anything like a Big Mac and a Route 44 Cherry Slush? Too often I’ve got enough things to be chasing after here on earth to spend too much time pursuing some pie in the sky form of culinary satisfaction.
“Blessed are the peacemakers.” I’ve tried to be a peacemaker, but people don’t always want to see things my way. If they would just agree with me there would be no argument. The immortal words of Rodney King (“Can’t we all just get along”) keep colliding with the immortal words of Chip Monck (“I did it my way.”)
And here in lies the problem, clearly highlighted by both forms of “UnChristian” reading: if Christians don’t look and behave like Christians…who will? Oh, if only this were a new problem. The Bible I read, written a few thousand years ago, describes a culture where the problem with the church most often was the people in the church. The group that harassed, tried, and eventually killed Jesus looked more like a church board than a back alley group of gang bangers.
So is it any wonder that when those “outside” the church are asked to describe those “inside” the church, the word that keeps coming to mind is “UnChristian.” After years of labeling them “unchurched”, I guess it is only fair. And unfortunately, largely accurate. The question is…what are we going to do about it?
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