Sleeping on the Library Floor

In the summer of 2003 Sharon and I were privileged to piece together a seven-week, 11,000 mile, three country, thirty-three state road trip.  Out of that grew a short book entitled, "I Know Where I'm Going, Just Not Exactly How to Get There."  The following is one of the chapters.

As we arrived in a small mid-western town, we drove through the streets trying to locate the church where we were to stay. Up until now, we had slept in the homes of various friends, strangers, hotels, motels, bed & breakfasts, a KOA Kamper Kabin and, in a few days, we would sleep in our tent. This was the first time we were going to sleep in a church.

We located the church and gave a call to the church secretary to tell her we had arrived. We watched a glorious sunset and looked forward to the quiet of the church and a night on our inflatable mattress. Within 15 minutes the secretary arrived and showed us around the building. It was very nice. There were clean restrooms to use. In the library it was easy to move the chairs to clear a space for our air mattress. We were given access to the church office so we could make phone calls to our children to give them a trip update. We could even plug the laptop into the phone jack to send and receive e-mail. I was feeling fine and looking forward to a quiet evening away from conversations and the sound of the highway. I was content. Until…

Just as the secretary was about to leave, she said, “Usually when we have people passing through, we can easily find a family who will host them for the night, but many people are out of town.” Now as you read that sentence, you may find no reason to raise an eyebrow. We had traveled thousands of miles and, although it was tiring, we had enjoyed the company of friends and strangers. Just a moment before I was perfectly content with my accommodations, but in that one sentence, the secretary had inadvertently and unintentionally raised my expectations. Now instead of looking forward to the quiet and the technological hook-ups, I was focusing on the fact that not a single person in the church had been willing or able to house us for the night. What made matters worse for me is that this woman was obviously not out of town, but wasn’t hosting us. “Why aren’t we staying at your house?” I wanted to ask. Fortunately, over the years I really have grown up a lot (contrary to the opinion of some) and I kept my question to myself.

What this episode pointed out was my own twisted heart. Where moments before I was thankful and rejoicing that we would not have to sleep outside (it was beginning to rain), now I was discontent that I wasn’t staying in someone’s home. Nothing had changed in my circumstances except my expectation. I went from contentment to discontentment in the space of one sentence. How often this same shift has occurred in my life. Most often it is not as dramatic or noticeable, but it happens none the less. I am grateful to God for His gracious gifts and His merciful hand, and then I wonder where He has gone and why He left no forwarding address.

The apostle Paul wrote to the Philippian Christians, “Actually, I don't have a sense of needing anything personally. I've learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I'm just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I've found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.” (Philippians 4:11-13, MsgB)

I can’t say that I have learned (past tense) to be quite content whatever my circumstances. But I am learning (present tense) to be quite content. Paul had to go through the “I am learning” stage in order to reach the “I have learned” stage. It is the only way we grow in our understanding and application of God’s truth. It is that tension of the now and the not yet. Contentment is not something that appears in our life full grown. It is something that, like Paul, we learn through the process of circumstance after circumstance where our contentment is challenged.

What was encouraging to me is that my discontent following the secretary’s statement lasted only the briefest of moments. And I’m content with that.

Vulgar and Tasteless Externals

In his thought-provoking and status-quo disturbing book, Earthen Vessels, Matthew Lee Anderson quotes G. K. Chesterton who, in the early 1900's, described the coming peril to Western Culture when he wrote about “the intellectual, educational, psychological and artistic over-production, which, equally with economic over-production, threatens the well-being of contemporary civilization. People are inundated, blinded, deafened, and mentally paralyzed by a flood of vulgar and tasteless externals, leaving them no time for leisure, thought, or creation from within themselves."


Think about Chesterton's description and then multiply that effect by the myriad "over-productions" since then.  No wonder we don't know who we are or why we're here.  We are buried in "vulgar and tasteless externals" which have pushed us ever more into being consumers rather than creators of art, literature, conversation, music, relationships.  We live in a mediated culture in which we spend much of our time in situations (internet, e-mail, smart phones) in which we don't really have to be present to another.  In these mediated circumstances we decide how much of ourselves to reveal rather than being in the risky situation of actually sharing the same space where you can't hide the rolling of your eyes or the expansion of your waistline or the impatience reflected in your restless leg. The fact is that even when we're with "real people" we're often checking our text messages, e-mail or posting on Facebook and therefore not truly present to another.


I'm not a Luddite. I own a smart phone (obsolete the moment I walked off the sales floor), I am using a Toshiba laptop I purchased just months ago to type this blog, but I am becoming more aware of how disconnected I've been especially over the past 5 years as my sphere of ministry has expanded to parts of 5 states with more than 200 churches.  "By necessity" I do much of my communication in mediated situations.  No wonder I hate traveling but love it when I actually arrive and get to spend time with people.  It's because that's the way were were made.  It's not good for us to be alone.  We are created in the image of the triune God who enjoys eternal fellowship within the Trinity.


So as a way to begin, here's my conscious choice to slow the flow or short-shrift the drift.  I'm going to stop checking my phone for e-mail when I'm home.  It can wait until morning.  I need some time for "leisure, thought, and creation from within myself."  My wife, children and grandchildren will probably benefit too.

Thank You

As many of you know I have two above average grandchildren, both girls.  The oldest, Raya, has been talking since she was an infant but recently she has begun to condescend to use words we recognize so that we can respond dramatically to what she is saying.  It does my heart good when I realize the words we can understand are “Hi”, “go”, “no”, “yes”, “yeah” and my personal favorite “thank you” (spoken very much like Brenda Lee Johnson on The Closer).  What thrills me as a grandfather and a follower of Jesus is that these words are, for the most part, cordial, respectful, and grateful.  I know Raya will eventually pick up other words (and attitudes), but for now I’m enjoying a granddaughter who is cheerful and grateful. I think I'll work on being like her.

Cataracts and Faith

A couple weeks ago I went to my ophthalmologist to have my eyes examined.  (Even though I think the suggestion from someone is that I should have my head examined.)  It’s been getting more difficult to read road signs and with all the travel I do, that has been a challenge.  It’s not that I can’t see to drive; it’s just that I want those letters to be crisp and easy-to-read.

After the usual puffs of air into the eyes and the “Which is clearer, this or this?” the Doctor told me that he could write me a new prescription but it wouldn’t help the clarity much.  He then showed me the difference.  He was right.  It wasn’t worth the expense to hardly notice a difference.  What he told me at that point is that my vision was being affected by cataracts, particularly in my left eye.

What has been rolling around in my head since then is my expectation that since I went to the Doctor he should have the technology to make it better.  To be fair, he did say I could have cataract surgery in a few years and that would dramatically improve my vision.  This visit for a simple eye test has been a reminder of how much I am a product of my culture.  I assume that since we have made such strides in medicine and technology, there is no problem that cannot be solved by simply applying what is available.  “We can rebuild him. We have the technology.” I heard that for 4 years in the early 70's and I still must believe it somewhere deep inside me.

But much of life is beyond the reach of a technological solution.  And I've had to ask myself, "Is God any less present or faithful or merciful or gracious if there is no wonder cure available for what ails me?"  What about all those millions of people throughout the world who do not live in a world where technology is so readily available?  Do they have to live by faith, but I get to live by faith and technology?  I don’t think so.  And it took my ophthalmologist to remind me that I have this treasure in a jar of clay so that it can be shown that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to me.  I got more from that appointment than I expected.  And while I wish I could see better, I'm glad I went.  The lesson was worth it.