Lessons from Max #4 | YOU ARE MORE...

Lesson #4 (from Max): 

DON'T LET ANYONE TELL YOU THAT YOU ARE ONLY A DOG. YOU ARE SO MUCH MORE... TO SO MANY!

Some saw a just dog when they looked at Max. Some saw more; a loving soul perhaps. Those who knew him best saw something deeper. 

One gorgeous late spring day, as was our habit, Max and I took
a walk by the lake. The paths were teaming with cyclists, runners, power-walkers and strollers (as in meanderers, though baby strollers too were being strolled, walked, run and cycled).

I should say that Max was very large for a Golden Retriever. As such, reactions varied when we came face to face with others on the paths. Most children wanted to pet Max, and the shoulder-threatening tug on the leash let me know, he desired the same.

Max seemed to smile at people. (I see it in the picture above.) Most people smiled back. Max relished the attention he usually received. A few people however, reacted differently to Max.

I remember particular back-to-back encounters on one section of the path that spring day. Twice, we approached walkers (actually, meanderers) coming our way. At both of these encounters, the person, and then persons, looked suspiciously at Max, next at me; then gave wide birth. Not just beyond-leash-distance. They stepped off the path and made a good 20' arc around us. One fully turned and never let us out of his sight. I remember thinking the reaction said much more about the man, and his experiences, than it said about Max. He didn't know Max; assuming he was just a dog. (He certainly couldn't see the smile.)

But Max was so much more to so many.

Most of us have been wrongfully accused of being just a... something (you can fill in your own blank.) Outward appearance or even failures of the past have led others to say, "...he's just a dog," and give wide passage. Here's a lesson from Max: Don't listen. Don't believe it. And never speak those words over your own life (or anyone else's).

First: their loss. Really.

Second: Their response probably says more about them than it does us.

Third, and most importantly: DON'T EVER LET ANYONE TELL YOU THAT YOU ARE JUST A DOG. YOU ARE SO MUCH MORE... TO SO MANY!

I believe I could see the confusion in Max's eyes when the few responded negatively toward my blonde-red buddy. But Max must have had the same memory constraints I do - it didn't stick with him long. Immediately the smile was back. The tug on the leash was there. And Max was already looking to be so much more to someone new.

For now...
D

A Stumbler's Walk | THE MOST IMPORTANT WORDS...

Some words cut through time's folded fabric like a warm knife through microwaved butter: I have a dream... Four score and seven years ago... A day that shall live in infamy... Et tu, Brute?

I remember my high school physics teacher saying that every word every spoken on earth is still sound-waving around the universe. And if we knew where and how to tune in, we could hear them all. I don't know if that is technically true or not, but the thought is a little awesome.

What I do know is that some words carry weight, a power and authority, that reverberates. Among the most powerful words ever spoken were those spoken in a nearly empty place, by a stone-roller (not to be confused with... never mind).

Angels perched on top of massive grave-stone blockades demand one's attention. The words the angel spoke, sliced eternity.

HE IS NOT HERE,

HE HAS RISEN!

Apparently angels really like saying this. The gospel accounts of the resurrection indicate it was proclaimed at least a few times. My guess is that He ain't* in that hole in the ground... He is risen! was shouted around the halls and hills of heaven repeatedly. It probably still is. 

These aren't just pleasant religious words. If true, they cannot be ignored - they change the game. My goal in this very short post is not to prove or disprove the angels' words (or that there are such thing as stone-rolling angels). Though my mind is a skeptical one, this truth is one I chose a long time ago. And it is one I choose every day - often through struggle. 

HE IS NOT HERE, HE IS RISEN... fills me with hope. 

HE IS NOT HERE, HE IS RISEN... challenges me. 

HE IS NOT HERE, HE IS RISEN... provides peace. 

HE IS NOT HERE, HE IS RISEN... changes everything!

In the early church, one would stand before the group and proclaim, "He is risen." To which the congregation responded, "He is risen indeed." 

And angels said, "You got that right!"

For now...

D

*Okie Angels

A Stumbler's Walk | WHAT'S SO GOOD ABOUT FRIDAY?

I think what we call "Good Friday" was, on that first "Good Friday," not so good to those in attendance.

Some couldn't see past the brutality and the loss. Tears blurred their vision, and bloody bruises distorted the face of the One in whom they hoped. A day they thought would never come - Bloody Friday. Life was dying. Light became dark.

Others looked through mocking eyes and with sneered lips. Finally this usurper hung battered and disfigured before them; dying in full shame. He had challenged everything they believed. He called out their hypocrisy. Finally, a day they thought would never come - Bloody Friday. 

Friday was a bloody day. It was not a pleasant day for reminiscing. It was a day of death. It was a day of earthquakes and darkness. It was a day (the only of which I know) of God turning his back.

Friday was a bloody day. But yes, it was a good day. Beyond what eyes could see and hearts dared believe, it was a good day. Because Friday was a day of sacrifice. The Sacrifice. Friday was a day when love personified killed death by dying. He killed sin's power by becoming sin.

Yes, Sunday is coming - with it's sunlight and empty tomb. But Sunday is the unveiling of Friday's victory. The victory of Bloody Friday.

God, thank you for Bloody Friday. Thank you for forgiveness so horribly won.

For now...
D

Lessons from Max #3 | IT'S ALL ADVENTURE

As soon as I saw you, I knew the adventure was about to happen.

- Winnie the Pooh

Max was always up for an adventure. And for my blonde-red buddy, just about anything fit the bill. A car ride was Disneyland - whether it led to a walk by the lake (one of our favorites), or a trip to Walmart (not). "Wanna go for a walk?" caused the skip-dance (See Lesson #1). Max discovered things - inanimate objects, other dogs, people, etc. - on every walk that I might have just breezed past. He investigated. He invested.

Max loved new places and old. Familiarity never dulled the adventure. He especially loved meeting people, even the few who weren't so excited about meeting him. (Some noticed his 100 pound frame before seeing the smile in his eyes.) He investigated. He invested. For Max it was all an adventure.

Fill your life with adventures, not things. 

Have stories to tell, not stuff to show. 

- Anonymous (one of my favorite authors)

It is easy to be ensnared by the mundane. Status quo is a padded bear-trap that causes no immediate pain, but hampers our mobility and ultimately drains vitality. Like the proverbial elephant cruelly conditioned by a leg chain to not venture out, we fail to realize what traps our spirit and kills our sense of wonder are chains of our own making (or at least our empowering). 

Sometimes adventure requires a flight or a boat - a trip to an exotic locale. More often the best adventures are embarked upon with a simple decision: A "hello" that leads into an engagement more easily avoided; a turn to the road less traveled. Adventures come in all shapes, sizes and flavors. Whatever form our adventures take, they share this in common: Adventure fills the soul. 

Ultimately, adventure is attitude. It is a glint in the eye, a fire in the heart. And the best news? An adventure attitude can be cultivated. This fire can be stoked. A first step creates desire for another. Each taste deepens the appetite. So step. Taste. Investigate. Invest. 

The road goes ever on and on, down from the door 

where it began. Now far ahead the road has gone, 

and I must follow, if I can.

- J.R.R. Tolkien

I will investigate. I will invest. After all... it's all adventure. Thanks for the lesson buddy. 

For now...

D

Lessons from Max #2 | BE THERE...

It's been a while since I've shared a Lesson from Max. Too long. I thought of him this evening as I walked by the lake. Lesson #1 was, Dance Over the Little Things. Below is another lesson my blondish-red buddy demonstrated daily. 

I once read a quote that has since both challenged and haunted me. Jim Elliott wrote, "Wherever you are, be all there." (If you are familiar with his story, you know these were much more than words.)

I have a super power. (I don't mean to brag.) It's never shown up it in a comic book, nor have I seen it demonstrated on the big screen. My super power? I have an uncanny ability to live in places other than the present. I often visit the future. At other times, I can be found in the past.

My super power comes with limitations. Though I often visit the what-may-come, it tends to be a place of anxiety; one that brings me stress upon teleporting back to the now. And the problem with the historical aspect of my super power - no matter how deeply or emotionally involved my climb into the past, I have not yet mastered the ability to change it. Not. One. Thing.

Come to think of it, my super power is not very super. And it has no power.

Max didn't share my abilities. He was stuck in the here-and-now. I'm not sure he really ever thought about yesterday or tomorrow. I never caught him staring at his puppy pictures reminiscing about his youth. Max never rushed through a Monday (Tuesday, Wednesday...) to get to the weekend.

Max was just there. Wherever (and whenever) he was, he was there. He was present. One of the things I miss most about Max was his there-ness. When I sat on the couch, he was there, curled up at my feet; or sitting, leaning against my leg with his head on my knee. When I was in my office he was there lying close by. As I would leave he was at the door asking to go with me (to be wherever there was about to be). When I came home... well, you guessed it... Max was always there.

The lesson here is not to go on about missing Max. The lesson is to be there. Wherever (and whenever) we find ourselves, to be fully present. This is a super power; an attainable and learnable one. We can grow in there-ness.

"The center of the earth can be anywhere you like" 

-- Reggie Kray, Legend.

Those we care most about are aware of our there-ness. And being there is about more than physical presence only. Being there includes emotional there-ness, relational there-ness.

Thinking about it a little more, my super power is a little selfish. Whether in the past or in the future, it is a lonely thing. It is a me-only thing. Conversely, The Law of There-ness (yes, I just made that up) states: ONE CAN ONLY BE PRESENT FOR OTHERS IN THE PRESENT.  

Max lived that. I think I'm ditching my super power.

For now...
D

A Stumbler's Walk | BLESSED... (Pondering the First Psalm) Pt.4

But...

Psalm 1:2

Your Direction Determines Your Destination... (Andy Stanley - no relation). This is both bad and good news. 

BUT is a strong word. It is a stake in the ground. The moment of transition. 

I used to think that... BUT now I think this...

I was heading east... BUT now I'm headed west...

I was lost... BUT now am found... (To quote the old hymn). 

BUT strongly sets two directions apart. BUT is the monument stone marking the last step of one journey and the first of another. 

The first picture painted in the Psalm One is that of a progression downward. It is the journey to failure - where wrong decision leads to playfully dark intention, and finally to distorted, ugly motivation.

BUT

There is another path. It is a path of vibrant life. It is not a path of religious rules; marked with signs blaring don't this, or don't that... think (and vote) this way... you better, or else.... No, it is a path of relationship and freedom. 

In the final post on the first Psalm we'll look at the different landscapes of these paths. For now, let's get back to BUT, remembering that it is our DIRECTION THAT DETERMINES OUR DESTINATION. 

BUT is the change of direction. It is the pivot between the last step of one and the first of another - a turning of our back, and the facing of a new direction. The good news? BUT can happen any time. This moment can be BUT. Right now... change of direction. We may say, "But (no relation to BUT), I've gone too far down this path, I can never get to the new destination." Again good news, though there is a final destination (to again quote the hymn, "When we've been there 10,000 years..."), the true destination is the path itself - the destination of a joyful journey. 

The Psalmist writes of the righteous person (the new-path-walker), "His delight is in the instruction of the Lord." The BUT - the turn, the direction change - occurs when we dig in our heals and say to the sky* "I'm done. I've walked the path of my making. And I am dry inside like straw sitting too long in the sun. Let's walk together. Where you lead, I'll go." 

Then step... 

Your DIRECTION WILL DETERMINE YOUR DESTINATION.

God, help me daily to make the pivot from myself to you (which always leads to a turn toward others). 

For now...

D

*By sky, I mean the One who resides in the heavens and the earth, our hearts and minds and every atom that makes up every molecule. In a word: the God of the Universe (ok, in five words). 

A Stumbler's Walk | BLESSED... (Pondering the first Psalm) Pt.3

Blessed is the person who walks NOT in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of the sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers...

Psalm 1:1

The first Psalm is often titled The Way of the Righteous and the Wicked. I closed the last post with this:

"Two distinctly different landscapes are about to emerge from the canvas. In my mind's eye I see one akin to the dried up, dusty and dying fields depicted in the movie Interstellar. The other painting is of green meadows and streams of clear cool water; vibrant hues from the canvas bringing a sense of warmth.  

Diverging paths will be laid out. One leading to life; the other, death. Above all, the Psalmist will make a point that has stuck with me since first pondering this Psalm. 

No one begins at the end of the path.

Each is a path of progression."

Tunnels often wind dark and ominous just before the hole of sunlight is revealed at the far end. The Psalmist walks us through such a tunnel in this opening stanza. First up is a downward spiraling progression of failure. As much as I'd like to skip to ...fields of green, red roses too..., this is where the Psalmist takes us... and there is a lesson for living tucked away in the maze.  

I have two friends who once found themselves part of a parade. It was not by choice. As if in some silly comedy, they were walking a downtown street one morning, turned a corner and were suddenly smack-dab in the heart of things. It was unplanned and unintentional. Yet there they were, like Ferris Bueller, suddenly part of the parade. (Although neither grabbed a mic and belted out Danke Shoen.)

The point is, at times we find ourselves walking what we feel to be the best route and the crowd streams by, catching us up. We begin to move with the flow, not realizing at first that where the flow is heading contradicts who we are and compromises what we hold true. 

And the progression begins. 

We all find ourselves caught up in the crowd from time to time. Unplanned. Unintentional. Now heading in the wrong direction.

Do not be deceived, bad company corrupts good morals.

-- 1 Corinthians 15:33

It is a different thing though - a darker and more dangerous thing - when we begin to hang out on the street corners waiting for the parade to pass by. We say to ourselves, "I'll just watch, I'll stay disengaged." But our intentions have evolved. We stand on that corner for one reason: We will join when the opportunity comes. 

And the progression continues. 

Finally we find ourselves completely engulfed. We become Grand-Marshals of our own destructive parades. And from our little parade-float thrones we look down upon anyone who does not join or walks a different path. We become, as the Psalmist writes, Scoffers; boldly arrogant on the outside, dried up and dusty within. 

Well, I've driven the parade analogy completely into the ground at this point. Hopefully I've conveyed the idea of progression. None of us begins by saying, "I'll take the path of destruction, please." It is more subtle and more insidious than that. We begin (either path) with baby steps and stumbles. And our strides grow stronger and longer. The paths we choose become our normal. Our way. 

I once read a great quote from Andy Stanley:

OUR DIRECTION DETERMINES OUR DESTINATION

The good news? Jesus blazed a trail of life that we can follow. He can change our direction, and ultimately, our destination. 

God, forgive me of marshaling my own parades. Empower me to step off the paths leading to fruitlessness and a dusty, parched life. Set me on paths of life.

For now...

D