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Early one day I was writing various projects. The news was broadcasting. A local station was advertising something that caught my attention.
A local company that does commercial shredding were offering their services for free. Each person was allowed to have three bags of papers shredded without charge. It would normally be a $150 expense.
I jumped at the chance. For weeks I have been using my home shredder to dispose of past documents with personal information. Twice my poor little weak domestic shredder froze in the middle of doing what it was designed to do: shred.
Ok, I only paid twenty bucks for it. But, it was a great sale! Aren’t all shredders alike?
My home shredder has several specific limitations. For example it won’t take paper clips or staples. Metal will jam my machine faster than spilling coffee on the company photocopy machine.
Taking the time to remove staples and paper clips seemed like an easy task when I was choosing the original purchase. The fancier shredder was so much more expensive. Now, I would pay the difference, gladly!
Also, my home shredder is limited to 2-3 sheets of paper per run. When I’m shredding 50 reams of paper, I start off with proper limitations. I actually count out 3 sheets per run. But, it takes so long that I try 4 sheets, then 5, then 6. Once in a while I try a handful of sheets. Of course I regret it. The machine groans, moans and seizes-up in the middle of a run.
After un-jamming the goofy unit, I go back to the proper 2-3 sheets. Of course I pray a prayer of exorcism. Maybe as God multiplied the loaves and fish, He could multiply my home shredder capacity to gobble up a ream of paper at a time. No such theology, eh?
The smell of something burning caught my attention. This time my home shredder stopped working completely. I called it lazy!
So, this past Wednesday when the TV news announced the opportunity of commecial shredding, I ran down to my basement. I already knew where my papers were stored. I carried up three boxes of old records and transferred them into paper bags.
The commercial shredders smiled as they loaded my three stuffed bags of papers into one large plastic container. With a single press of a button all three bags of papers were shredded into oblivion! Destruction never felt so good!
photo credit: Google image
Duane handed me a note in church. Yes, he passed me a hand written note during our church service this past Sunday. I guessed that it must be an important message.
The note said that he and our friend Mike were scheduled to give a talk about our 2008 motorcycle epic journey to Banff, Canada to the senior adult fellowship at a local Presbyterian Church. He tried to bribe me to join him with the promise of a free lunch.
Honestly, I was expecting an emergency spiritual message of some kind. I had braced myself for some serious news that would require a thoughtful and somber response. But, an invitation to a slide show of our motorcycle trip was no where on my radar screen.
I looked up at him with a wry smile. His grin said it all. We were both chuckling like school boys passing contriband candy in grade school.
While I never did give him an answer, my schedule was open that day. So, after running several errands I ended up at the church where the talk was to be given. Duane showed up and greeted me with “Man, your life must really be boring!”
Together we went into the church, met many wonderful people. The lunch was delicious. There were plenty of laughs around the tables too.
Then, Duane began his presentation. I was amazed that Seniors were even the slightest bit interested in motorcycling from Detroit to Banff. But, they were excited about the pictures and laughed at the stories.
Several of the seniors around me were quite animated. When the topic was about bugs smashing into our faces, gooey stuff plastering our bikes, and hot engines baking the free protein to a nice crispy presentation, they were appropriately gagging. “Why do you do this?” was not an uncommon question.
Yet, as the pictures progressed, I reflected on what non-riders struggle to understand. The comraderie was self-evident. Taking a 4,000 mile motorcycle journey together deepens friendships.
Immersing ourselves into God’s creation on a bike is stunning. We become part of our surroundings rather than passing by it in a steel bubble. The scenery was spectacular and we missed very little along the way.
It was a memory of why any of ride at all. Life in the wind, under the sun, and surrounded by creation is fantastic. Care to go for a ride?
photo credit: Bruce Fong Photography
This past Fall I regretfully packed my bags and loaded my pickup truck earlier than I had originally planned. November is always reserved for a rendezvous with a good friend on his ranch. It’s the one time that we watch over carefully to catch-up with each other after a busy year.
Unfortunately, my obligations called for me to be at a meeting about an hour’s drive away. I would have to cut short my time with my good friend. We said “Good-bye.”
Once at my meeting, I was astounded at how quickly we covered our agenda items. No one felt hurried. It was simply an efficient meeting.
My co-host and I looked at each other and remarked that we were done. This was putting us hours ahead of schedule. That’s when an idea popped into my head.
I pulled out my cell phone. It was during a break. Then, I sent my friend a text message.
That’s when I shared the miracle of our meeting ending hours early. I asked if he was still going to be at his ranch. If so then I would swing by for one more day of our end-of-the-year fellowship. He was warmly receptive to the idea.
When I rolled up to his ranch, he was all smiles. As usual, he insisted on carrying my bags. Then, overflowing with hospitality he offered me some refreshments.
His overwhelming generosity is also reflective of the success in this life. The world would call him one its great achievement stories. He calls it God’s blessing. I have only heard him give credit to God’s touch in his life.
I compliment him often for his financial assistance to so many. His response if the same, “The easy part is writing a check. The hard part is what you and others in God’s service do every day to make His ministry viable and fruitful.”
That humble perspective reminds me of James’ message to take pride in our humble position. This is the position that is usually the opposite of what the world tells us.
My friend knows what’s really important. He has never put his confidence in what he has in this world. Rather, what he has in Christ has been his supreme hope. His life of humble commitment to Jesus Christ and consistent devotion to the Lord’s work has been a living lesson in theology to watch.
James 1:9-11
photo credit: Google image
I was patiently waiting for my wonderful wife to do her shopping in one of her favorite department stores. We have wandered through these aisles many times. She rarely buys but always looks, touches, compares, evaluates, and considers.
Women by design need to relate to whatever it is they are considering for a purchase. Yes, it is like establishing a relationship. Once a purchase is made there is a bond that has begun.
Men are different. We don’t do relationships with stuff. Rather, whatever it is in a store that needs to be purchased needs to be hunted, stalked, and captured as prey.
But, keeping my wife company I dialed back my own shopping instincts. I find a comfortable chair and settle into a waiting mode. My PDA keeps me occupied.
While data interaction on several levels keeps me entertained and productive, my ears are picking up a charming conversation. Being nosey isn’t polite but these three women were within arms reach of my chair. I was closer to them than they were to each other.
One of the sales girls complimented the customer, “I love your top! Where did you get it?” Sheepishly, she mentioned the name of a discount store. All three girls laughed.
The quick response was, “That’s a great store. It isn’t given enough credit. They have great buys there!” Naturally, I’m thinking that we were in a specialty store. Yet, all three were talking about another store, a discount store to boot!
That’s when the other sales girl jumped in with her own announcement. “Do you see my top?” Both women agreed with expectation. She revealed that she had picked it up at another discount store. All of the girls laughed. I joined in with my own muffled chuckling.
Of course while there was a lot of advertising for other stores, these two sales girls were happy to ring up the customer’s very large sales in this store. She was thanked profusely by the sales personnel. The customer expressed her thanks for their help. Both assured her that they were there to take care of her and would do so whenever they could.
Cheerfully, the customer walked away with a smile on her face. The two sales girls simply shifted to a new conversation about their hours, working on Memorial Day, and the next clothes purchases that they were planning on making. Women in conversation is absolutely fascinating.
photo credit: Google image
When I teach for my Church Adult Bible Fellowship, I love to enhance my Power Point lesson with photographs. I identify a specific point and then I search for just the right photo to reenforce the lesson. That search leads me to examine scores of pictures.
Some times that search gives me a chance to collect great photos for future applications. My creative mind goes wild as I stumble across stunning images that illustrate poignant ideas. Then, when I discover a perfect application for the lesson that I am teaching, I smile with satisfaction.
During this Memorial Day weekend, I found the picture posted above. It is a Google image. When I saw this photo, I paused for a long time.
The Marine guard who is presenting the flag of honor is whispering a special word. We don’t know what he is saying. But, he is a trained warrior.
As a highly skilled and intense patriot of our nation, he understands what the ultimate sacrifice is. He has been here before. The death of a fellow soldier never gets easier, but he knows how to express his understanding to those who are left behind. The hurt held in the heart of a family member is familiar to him.
The anguish that challenges the desperate effort to exercise self-control is written all over the face of the young boy. He is likely the son of a combat casualty. The grief of the moment is enhanced and also soothed by the words of comfort and understanding.
What goes on in the heart and mind of a young boy who is grieving? The confluence of his sadness, desire for real hope, and the reality of a pain the will some day lessen but never fully disappear grip him at the moment.
So, we who are enjoying the liberty won by those who have made the ultimate sacrifice, take time from our busy lives to honor the memory of the fallen. With our BBQ, parades, and quiet moments of reflection, we as a nation remember all who have given their lives for our quality of life. For of you who have served in our countries military, “Thank You!” For any of you who have lost a loved one in military service, we honor you and yours. For all who are serving in harms way, we pray for you and entrust you into God’s mercy.
photo credit: Google image
We are downsizing all of our stuff. It’s all very valuable stuff of course or we wouldn’t have it in the first place. Each item had a special purpose and was chosen as a quality addition to our family menagerie.
Necessity calls for intentional shrinkage. So, a family vote of items to be eliminated was quickly taken. Collective evaluation has a way of removing the sticky glue of nastalgia.
After some deliberation and the steady drum of passing days, we gathered the items that we would remove from our valuable family collection. Our real estate agent told us about a friend of hers who has a second hand business. I stopped in and asked for details.
Before I brought in any items she wanted to see pictures. So, I went home and took pictures of our very costly items. My portrait photography skills were a handy tool.
Proudly I brought these pictures back to the shop. The proprietor scanned over my portfolio carefully. I was certain that she was admiring the quality of these finds and the remarkable photographs taken with my pocket digital camera.
The noises that followed alerted me. She sounded more like a doctor during your annual physical exam. There were “Hmmm’s” and “uh uh’s” and “tsk tsk’s” in her valuation.
Finally, after three passes over my pictures, she concluded, “Sorry, there’s nothing here.” I was stunned! How could she pass on these priceless items?
It was only a momentary setback. Shortly after picking myself off the floor and pushing aside the smelling salts and defibulator, I could think clearly. I asked if she could recommend another shop.
She and her staff were more than happy to give me a referral. The other store was a few miles away and had a lot more square footage. In the end she said that the other store was NOT as selective as she was. Ouch.
That evening I made the journey to the “other” store. With pictures in hand the propriator smiled and greeted me with, “Do you have pictures for me?” She scanned over the photos one time and pulled out a contract. Next, her buffed guys camed over and asked when they could pick up my items.
Her efficiency bouyed my dashed spirits. She wanted my stuff! It’s such a good feeling to wanted. I think we all prefer that to other alternative.
photo credit: Yahoo image
Swimming is so exhilarating! I love jumping into the pool knowing that at the end of a vigorous workout that I’m going to feel so much better. My pre-swim shower gets me into the soaking mood.
There’s is no doubt that the water in the pool will be cool. It stands to reason that I should be taking a cool shower just to get me used to what I will experience. A hot shower will emphasize the shock, right?
Scanning over the lap pool I notice that several lanes are open. I have my choice. The two wall lanes are secondary choices. They have that crowded feeling.
I pull down my eye protection and push off from the wall. My arm strokes are smooth and powerful. My coordinated kicks steady my speed.
OK, is this sounding a little too much like I know what I’m doing? In truth it’s ghastly to jump into that cold water! My breath is sucked right out of me when I’m immersed into the pool.
It’s the only way to go though. Trying to ease into the cool waters is like slow torture. Jumping right in wakes you up!
My first strokes are as uncoordinated as a dog who hasn’t learned that the dog paddle was named after it. I breath in when the water is pouring over my face. Gasping for air and choking loudly alerts the staff. There are no life guards here. The water is only 4 feet deep so I stand up and spit, choke, and gulp for some air.
Swimming laps is the definition of boredom. All of the mind games that I try and play are exhausted. When I try and trick myself that I am almost done, I know that I would easily failed arithmetic.
It takes me about four laps to settle into my routine. By now the rhythm of my strokes are in synchronization with my breathing. I have an easy lap counter at the start and so I can let me mind focus on my workout routine.
I pray when I swim. As the laps slip by and my counter keeps me on track, I intercede for others. Those who are in trouble, I ask God for His provision, mercy, and grace. Faces appear in my soul and I lift them up to the Lord. It’s wet and cold in there but its perfect up there.
photo credit: Yahoo image
Pain: the Way to Gain
Years ago my friend, Keith and I were musing over his favorite hobby of weight training. One thing led to the next and we agreed to meet in the gym and start training together. It was familiar territory to him but totally strange to me.
In the world of Olympic weight training, the bar bell weighs 45 pounds. A twenty-five pound weight is called a quarter, a ten pound weight is called a dime, and a five pound weight is called a nickel.
When an exercise completes a single lift, it is called a “rep” which is an abbreviation for a repetition. A “set” refers to group of repetitions for any given exercise. The weight lifter has the prerogative to determine how many reps per set. Often a set is comprised of ten to twelve reps and lifters frequently work on three sets per exercise.
My first foray into a weight room was uncomfortable. Everyone who was there seemed like they knew what they were doing. Besides that, the weight on their barbell was massive.
Keith was a great encourager. It was comforting to be there with a guy who not only knew what he was doing but also looked like he trained there often. I was feeling like a rookie.
I laid down on the bench press. Just for comfort I lifted the naked bar on its own. Keith started me out with a dime on each end of the bar. I lifted it with some effort and pumped out ten reps.
Keith and I traded places. But, he removed the dimes and put on a pair of 45 pound weights. That wasn’t the end of it. He added a second pair of 45’s. Yeow! He pumped that about as easily as I did the dimes!
By the end of our lifting we were both breathing at a healthy rate and sweating profusely. It was a wearisome yet good feeling. We worked hard on our first of many more lifting times together.
The next morning I could hardly move. It was difficult to even lift my toothbrush up to my mouth. I laughed when I struggled to put on my shirt. For the next number of years Keith and I met and lifted together. Every week I grew stronger and stronger.
God uses that same pattern of pain being the gateway to growing stronger. When trials come our way, the natural tendency is to whine. Yet, God tells us to count it all joy. Trials exercise our faith and ultimately we increase in our perseverance, mature, and approach God with specific prayer.
Our faith is never complete in and of itself. It becomes a growing potential to be stronger. Work it out and watch how effective it will become especially after it grows through trials. Count it all joy!
James 1:1-8
P.S. This is a midweek series on the book of James that I have published in the past. I hope that you will find it encouraging.
The weather forecast was promising. Rain wasn’t expected until the evening. So, the morning was an ideal time to squeeze in a bicycle ride.
I pulled my hybrid off of the ceiling rack. Then, I added a little air pressure into the tires. Now, they could handle the potholes scattered around the neighborhood.
I pulled on my helmet and strapped it down. Next, I zipped up my bike jacket. It was going to be a cool ride to start.
My bike riding gloves make gripping the handle bars certain and sure. It was time roll out my ride on to the driveway and take a look into the sky. Today’s ride would be exhilarating.
The first few hundred yards were uncomfortable. Unused muscles from the winter hybernation were resisting. In my mind I was rehearsing the shifting gears system.
From miles in the past I was aware of knee strain, muscle inefficiencies, and tire stress. Everything was coming back from last Fall. But, I was enjoying the ride.
The air was fresh. A pleasant breeze kept me comfortable. I had chosen the right gear to wear.
I was blazing down a hill. Ahead was a dangerous intersection. It was the driveway to a large apartment complex. Cars exit the lot at high speeds. They are used to blowing past the stop line, ignoring the stop sign, and trying to squeeze into traffic as quickly as possible.
Anyone who is walking or biking across their path has to be aware. I’m glad that I was today. She was on her cell phone and only looking in the opposite direction from where I was zooming down the hill. Even my red jacket wouldn’t capture her attention.
I coasted, then braked, and finally gave way to her progress. It’s simply a matter of physics. I had the right of way but she had the tons of steel on her side. I love Jesus but I doubt if He really wanted me to come home right this morning.
After I rode around her car, I glanced into her sideview mirror. Her eyes were as big a saucers as she stared at her almost morning collision. I nodded at her and pedaled on by. That was enough of a close call for one day. But, the next intersection must have had her sister barrelling out of the neighborhood talking on her cell phone too.
photo credit: Yahoo image
Detroit is known to many as Hockey Town. It is the home of the Detroit Red Wings NHL hockey phenomenon. They are a professional sport winning dynasty.
Today was the first in the playoff series between the Red Wings and the Chicago Blackhawks. They are competing for the Western Conference Championship. The winner of this series goes on to play for the most coveted prize in ice hockey, the Stanley Cup.
Getting here was both exciting and nail-biting all at the same time. The Wings had a fabulous regular season. Their consistent successes, speed, strategy, and skill gave the team another berth in the playoffs.
The first round was a sweep. Everyone in Detroit were excited and very proud of their team. The second round was not so easy.
The Wheeled Wings squared off for a seven game series against the Anaheim Ducks. Each team was brim full of talent. The entire series was decided in the seventh game and decided by a single goal that was all the difference that Detroit needed to move on to the next round.
I saw a lot of that deciding seventh game. It was exciting even for a casual fan like me. So far I have never been to an NHL game. But, I join in with gusto during the playoffs.
None of my friends have broken out into fist fights. But, when the players who are into adrenaline pumping action clash with gloves off, sticks tossed aside, and helmets dumped on to the ice, every hockey nut is rivetted to the screen.
How a human being can trade hard punches in rapid succession and still be able to survive to play more hockey is a mystery to me. But, the crowd cheers like a colessium crowd with a thirst for gladiators.
I so respect the atheleticism of these players. What they do with bursts of speed and agility while on thin blades of steel is astounding. The sweat pours off their bodies and their respiratory heaving tells me that they are functioning at their optimum physical limits.
Tonight I was with a friend. He took me along with him to visit his friends. We had a ball together. We ate BBQ ribs, corn on the cob, and watched the Red Wings win the first game of the Western Conference Championship. It was a great time to cheer and celebrate a win.
photo credit: Yahoo image
