Yearly Archives: 2004

Silliness

Shaving with Grandad

Grandad has always been a big favorite with all the grandchildren. This began with Joshua and continues on with each child. Daniel was particularly close to my dad before we moved to Washington. I remember picking up my folks from the airport when they first came to visit us in Seattle. Daniel took one look at my dad and burst into tears. I think he hadn’t realized until then how much he missed him.

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He’s not crying now!

Often my mom will be on the phone with the children and before they even say hello they ask her, “Where’s Granddad?”. Ah, to be so adored.

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For some, a razor is optional

At some point Daniel caught on to the fact that he could have some one on one time with my dad during Shaving Time. Granddad lathers them both up with shaving cream in front of the bathroom mirror and they “shave.” Daniel thinks this is great fun. Not to fear–he uses a razor with a cover on it. After they get a clean shave both Grandad and Daniel put on a splash of aftershave.

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Expecting an endorsement call from shaving cream companies any moment, now.

They’ve been doing this for years now. This summer in Texas, David caught on to the fun of the moment and joined the Men. So of course, during our Michigan visit this October they had to make sure to get in some shaving time with Grandad. It wasn’t until some time had passed and I noticed a strange quiet around the house that I realized the Men had an extra person joining them in the Shave Time. Oh dear!

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Who gets to clean this up, I wonder?

Some moments have to be captured on film.

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Always dainty even in “manly” pursuits

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Parenting

Sticky Fingers at 35,000 Feet

With combined frequent-flier miles (some graciously donated by my folks) the five children and I were able to fly to Detroit this month to join my family in celebrating my brother’s wedding. It is not an trivial matter, flying with five children, as you can well imagine. The three boys and I went to Texas in August and had not one, but two layovers. It was an extremely long flying experience (both ways) especially for such a short visit (less than a week). It did, however, result in many miles accrued for our frequent-flier memberships. It also made me very confident about dealing with a ‘short’ trip to Michigan of only 4.5 hours. Really, how bad could it be? We have this spiffy portable DVD player which makes flying much more entertaining. I traveled with Tim’s old laptop so I could watch movies or write if I desired. I even had Tim load a movie on to his MP3 player. I was set.

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Don’t they look sweet? What adorable children!

This time Tim was able to get a gate pass and accompany us to our departure gate. I guess I looked a bit overwhelmed with five squirmy, active children. They were probably so glad someone was willing to claim us and help us so they didn’t have to feel responsible. I loaded all the kids up on Dramamine before we boarded. The four older children swallowed it fine but Sarah decided to chew it. We’d learned on our last flight that it was NOT a chewable medicine (tastes awful). The other kids were all yelling at Sarah to drink her juice, take a bite of a cracker, something. It was funny. She just scrunched up her nose and kept chewing. She made a face, finished the pill and then calmly drank her juice. She’s obviously tougher than the rest of us.

As always, I dressed the children in matching red shirts, so they could be easily found if they were somehow separated from us. For some reason, Tim didn’t wear a red shirt as he accompanied us to the gate — can’t imagine that he would have wanted to distance himself from us or anything.

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… and now for the un-posed picture showing the fighting & arguing …
We were in the BACK of the plane (row 44) so we took advantage of their early boarding time — I figured they wouldn’t hassle me as they board those back rows first plus I’m sure I looked just a wee bit stressed handling back packs and lap top bags and assorted baby blankets. Thankfully we can’t really see ourselves during those moments. “Hold on to your sister’s hand. Don’t drop that bag! Wait, wait, not yet. Okay, keep walking. Don’t stop, there are people behind us.” The only thing more awkward is trying to hold a baby at the end of the walk way while closing up the stroller. I think one time I actually handed one of the children to a complete stranger while I found the clasp on the stroller. Ah, the things we are driven to in times of stress. On this night the last thing I saw was Tim waving to us sweetly as he watched us board the plane. For some reason it was very touching to see him standing there loving us.

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“Round up the usual suspects”

Joshua and Daniel fell asleep almost immediately. Rachel settled down to look out her window but David and Sarah were full of energy. They enjoyed a lollipop which was a nice diversion but gave them sticky hands. Since I’m one of those awesome, plan-ahead moms (I wish) I had some cute apple-scented hand wipes in my bag (out and ready to use). I quickly disposed of the remains of their candy and wiped their hands down thoroughly. Sarah was cheerful but a bit wiggly. I finally pulled her across the aisle to sit with me and Daniel. She was fine there. David, however, began to lose his ability to stay quiet and calm. It turns out my careful wiping of his hands had left a nasty residue on his comfort, sucking fingers. This was a BAD mistake as he proceeded to let everyone in our area know how upset he was. We were in the middle of taking off so I couldn’t take him to the bathroom to rinse his fingers. I didn’t have any water with me on hand so I was left to (very effectively) say things like, “Quiet now, David. Just a minute, honey, I’ll help you. Okay, I hear you, we all hear you. It’s okay.” Finally I just threw caution to the wind and slipped across the aisle to sit with him. He settled down fairly quickly and went to sleep.

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Joshua enjoys a well-earned respite

They all slept the rest of the entire flight. It was a nice, empty flight so we had lots of room. Daniel and Sarah had one triple section to themselves, David and Rachel another and Joshua and I the last. We could all stretch out. When we arrived Joshua sleepily said, “That was the best flight I’ve ever been on.” Ha! He must have slept just fine. We didn’t watch a single movie or read any of the books I packed. Well, better to be prepared then bored and screaming. I’m sure everyone around us would have agreed with that statement.

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Daniel, the world-weary jet-setter

Of course, it was 3 in the morning WA time and David and Sarah were not so thrilled with being awakened. David cried and cried. I held Sarah but couldn’t get through the aisle with the two back packs on my shoulders. David was weeping (fairly quietly at this point) in front of me. The older kids had long since walked ahead of me. Finally the nice college-aged man behind me offered to carry one of the bags so I could at least make some progress forward. David cried the entire length of the plane, on the walk way and up until the doors of the check-in gate. At some point Grandad picked him up and carried him. The next time I caught his eye, David smiled this innocent, content smile. Argh! It was wonderful that Mom and Dad were able to meet us at the gate and help with all of our carry-on’s.

A successful voyage!

Whew. We’ll see how the return flight goes. This blog (which was intended to be a short little paragraph) has grown quite lengthy. Hopefully the cute pictures make things bearable.

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Musings

Birthday 39

It is a cool and dreary Friday afternoon, and the train is nearly full. Like many others, I hate fighting the southbound traffic on Fridays, which is usually worse when the roads are wet, and so I made sure to take the train today. I feel a little let down, because it was my birthday today, but there was nothing particularly special about it (at least so far).

Traditionally, I always take my birthday off from work, ever since I was scheduled to work at Holiday Inn on the evening of my 17th birthday, and decided to quit as a birthday present to myself. I have often joked that it is a warning sign to any employer if I don’t take my birthday off … they ought to start looking for a replacement. I think this may be an exception to that rule, since I have so little time off accrued, and much of it is spoken-for next summer. Having been unemployed for so long, I expect I’ll think long and hard before quitting any job.

This morning I was awakened before my alarm by a heavy, pounding rain. Here in the beautiful Northwest, we prefer rains that waft in as a gentle mist, keeping the foliage green and the reservoirs full, yet not seriously inconveniencing anyone. It is a courteous, gentlemanly rain, not like that brash, villainous rain they get in the Southeast.

But there is nothing courteous or gentlemanly about a rain like this morning’s, especially one that wakes me at 5:20 am. It is certainly true that I do not sleep as well with Kathy away. I roll around all night in a luxury of space that I simply do not deserve, and my conscience knows it and keeps my sleep uneasy.

There is a stark contrast between my daily schedule and that of the rest of my family, these days. As a reader might suppose from reading this blog, my life could be described by some as being comprised of long periods of boredom relieved by short periods of ennui. My work, fascinating though it may be to some, does not lend itself to epic story-telling, and my off-hours are spent mostly in quiet pursuits, such as reading or playing computer games. Insomniacs Anonymous has frequently sought me on as a guest speaker, and I understand that an MP3 file of my famous lecture on the relevance of IMS DB/DC COBOL programming is a popular download among those suffering from severe sleeplessness.

Kathy, however, is at the hub of all that is exciting and interesting, as her brother’s wedding preparations near completion and relatives flock in from all corners of the globe. I keep trying to persuade her to write a blog entry, but she cannot seem to tear herself away from the events of the day long enough to reflect. I understand that a power outage has struck the hotel where many of the out-of-town visitors are staying, and that some relatives are missing, presumed, well, missing. My children have joined Grand-dad in a frenzy of last-minute preparation of the Thornhollow grounds, but further details are not available.

Instead, I’ll regale you with tales of the course I am taking. In a partnership with the University of Washington, my employer offered a series of “continuing education” courses to those of us who require that sort of thing. Although my first choice course was cancelled, I did manage to enroll in another course, and spend three hours of my Friday afternoons across town listening to lectures about XML.

As it turns out, this is subject matter to rival my gripping IMS DB/DC discussion, and I find myself glazing over almost as soon as I settle in to my seat at the lab. To make matters worse, food and drink are banned from the classroom, so I am unable to jolt my system with a healthy swig of Diet Coke. From time to time I stagger out and take a gulp from the container I secret outside the classroom … I feel like some kind of derelict hitting the bottle. Maybe I should get a flask or a brown paper bag.

Recently the professor took a survey, and I had the opportunity to comment that I found the pace “way too slow”. It would seem that others agreed, because the instructor spoke with much more animation today and we were granted four hands-on exercises instead of the usual two. I suggested that he ask more questions, and so I cudgeled my molasses-filled brain and tried to actually answer when he did, in fact, ask. As with many things, you get out what you put into things … once I began to take a more active interest, I found myself more able to stay awake.

I had a lovely visit with my parents last night … strange to eat dinner & dessert with just the two of them … there was even a substantial amount of the Black Forest Cake left over! This would certainly never have happened if my horde of children were around … as it was, Dad and I put a brave face on it and each suffered through two pieces of cake. My Mom (who claims she ought to know this kind of thing) insists that I was born on the 6th of October. She hints that the doctor who delivered me was a bit on the inebriated side, and probably forgot to fill out the paperwork until he recovered from his hangover. Dad, ever the diplomatist, suggested we celebrate on the 7th as a sort of a compromise, and so I was treated to a birthday dinner and window-shopping excursion.

Thanks to my self-indulgent nature, I already have everything I could possibly want, and a fair number of things that I don’t want (as witnessed by the piles in our garage). I seem to be a difficult person for whom to buy a present.

I had planned to watch a DVD on my laptop today on the train-ride home … got the case out & opened it up … some fiend had put the case back but left the DVD in the player! Imagine my annoyance. Well, actually, readers of this blog probably know all about annoyance, as they hopelessly sift through the blather hoping for an occasional interesting word. I’d blather on, but the train seems to be arriving in Tacoma.

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Silliness

Train Conceit

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A view of the “Quiet Car” after everyone has detrained.

The last several weeks I have begun to ride the train to and from Seattle, now that we are (nearly) moved-in to the Lakewood house.

If I get up at crack-o-dawn (5:10 am), I can beat the traffic and be at work in about 50 minutes. Similarly, if I wait until after 7 pm, I can get home in as little as 46 minutes (it might be time for a blog on speeding). The problem is, I don’t really want to work from 6:20 am until 7 pm at night, every day. What is the point of moving to this side of the water if I’m only going to work longer hours, and see my family no more than I did before?

Some would argue that at this point in my career, especially considering the experience I had being laid off, that I should invest long hours as a way to regain my technological skills and to improve my chances for promotions and raises. I’m of two minds about that.

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The Sounder in the early morning mist.

But in any case, I do very much like riding the train. It isn’t particularly quiet … unlike European trains, the cars rattle and squeak almost constantly, every switch or irregularity in the track is communicated in no uncertain terms.

I do, however, patronize the ‘Quiet Coach’ … a special southernmost passenger car where conversation is taboo and phones & pagers are to be turned off. I usually stake out a table so that I can use my laptop comfortably (as, in fact, I am doing now). The scenery ranges widely between junkyard- industrial and rural-picturesque, with Mount Rainier looming to the southwest throughout much of the journey. There are two levels in the center part of each coach … so far I haven’t yet sat in the upper deck, but I plan to do so today, if only to broaden my horizons. I think I’ll wait until the hordesfolk detrain in Kent and Auburn before I venture into the unknown upper regions.

As a full-circuit Sounder rider, I look down my nose at the penny-ante Tukwila commuters, here today, gone tomorrow. Their pathetic 15-minute commute doesn’t really make them worthy of the train, but we let them ride anyway, if only for their tax dollars. A true Sounder veteran is able and willing to commit to the full hour between Tacoma and Seattle … he doesn’t put his hand to the plow only for a few measly stops, like those folks from Kent, Auburn, Sumner and even Puyallup.

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The afternoon sun gleams off the sleek contours of this mighty train, arrived in Tacoma.

It is hard to imagine, but I may even prefer the train to the ferry. There is a certain charm to the fact that I have only a 20-minute drive at the other end of this train-ride, unlike the 90+ minutes of bus- and car-ride that I formerly faced at the conclusion of my Bainbridge Island ferry ride. And of course I have a deep-seated genetic predilection for trains, inherited from my father. My Dad used to schedule entire family vacations around the train schedules of Europe, so that we visited ‘historic’ train stations with remarkable regularity. He had the ability to time his rate of travel so that any time a highway crossed a train-line, there would be an engine chugging along beneath us just as we crossed. His passion for trains continues unabated … there are those who believe that this whole ‘Refuge’ retreat center thing is just an elaborate front for a gargantuan model railroad (to be constructed in the basement). My Dad might tell you that the dreams are not necessarily incompatible.

Today was a banner day for another reason; today they actually asked me for my ticket or pass. I’ve been riding a number of weeks, but I have never (until today) seen a conductor, let alone been asked for my ticket.

One of the perquisites my employer offers is an annual FlexPass. This covers the cost of a bus ride or a train ride up to $4.00 each way, which, coincidentally, is the cost of a one-way Sounder ticket. I can ride pretty much any bus or train in King County, as well as any of the Express buses that connect between Tacoma and Seattle, for free. It is nice to never have to worry about paying … I wonder if it would be a better model for cities and states to offer public transport free of charge to anyone who has any kind of a job. I can understand the desire to assign the cost of the service to those who actually use it … but I wonder if those who don’t use public transport wouldn’t be glad to pay a little extra if only it would reduce the congestion on the roadways. And of course there is the whole question of how much it costs to collect the money and to maintain the machines that sell tickets and validate passes.

An interesting feature of the train ride is the regular appearance of a uniformed guard, who makes a circuit of the entire train at least twice during each trip. There seems to be at least one guard at each station, as well as a guard assigned to each train. Several days ago I brought my camera onto the train and snapped a few pictures of the train as it prepared for departure in the early morning mist. I neglected to turn off my flash, and within two minutes I was interviewed by a security officer as to my reason or intention for taking the pictures. It is a strange world we live in, post 9/11. I must say, I was impressed by the speed and efficiency with which they identified and confronted me. Somewhat sheepishly I admitted that I took the pictures for this weblog, wondering if he would know what a blog was. The officer was courteous and did not seem disposed to search my bag or otherwise harass me — he seemed to accept my explanation. Perhaps I am only one of many people who write about their commuting experience.

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The hallowed heights of the Sounder car.

Well, it turns out that there are tables on the upper deck as well, a fact that I had not realized, viewing from below. There is a certain satisfaction in riding an extra eight feet above the track … the vista is much more expansive. I feel a little like Lucy van Pelt, of Peanuts, riding in her imaginary coach, waving at all the people, as she enjoys her fantasy Queendom. Except I’m not quite as sure of myself as is Lucy … I’m too embarrassed to wave at the golfers on the course we just passed.

I can’t believe how much I was missing, riding downstairs all these weeks on the claustrophobic, lowly first floor of the train car. Sure, we of the upper deck have no bathrooms; we leave such mundane concerns to the peasants below. Even the train stations are transformed as I look down with lofty disdain. The tiny passengers disembark beneath my feet as they scurry off to their ant-like cars, pursuing their insignificant insect lives.

Or maybe I’m getting a little carried away. After all, all too soon I will be forced to descend from my majestic chariot and do some scurrying of my own. Ah, well, it was good to be on top of the world, even if only for a few sweet moments.

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Bible Study

Cherishing Iniquity

I heard an interesting sermon, a few Sundays ago. I think it is worth a recap; if nothing else, it will help me to better establish the important points in my own mind.

The topic of the sermon was prayer, or perhaps more accurately intercession. We started by examining Hebrews 7:23-26, which focuses on Christ’s role as our go-between, mediating between us and God the Father:

“Now there have been many of those priests, since death prevented them from continuing in office; but because Jesus lives forever, he has a permanent priesthood. Therefore he is able to save completely those who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them. Such a high priest meets our need … one who is holy, blameless, pure, set apart from sinners, exalted above the heavens.”

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This picture has nothing to do with my blog, but Kathy says I need to have some images for those who kind of skip over the blog text looking for current pictures.

I like the idea of being saved completely … no half-measures will do for me! Imagine if your salvation depended upon the priestly skills or character of Eli, Hophni, or Phineas? Even Aaron was a piece of work, leading the whole nation into idolatry while God was meeting with Moses only a few miles away. Or Samuel, who managed to serve without corruption yet somehow did not communicate that tradition to his sons.

We surveyed a number of other scriptures, including those which identify conditions for acceptable prayer:

“If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me.” Psalm 66:18

This one is worrisome. I’ve been taught to understand the word ‘regard’ in this context as ‘cherish’ … the idea of accepting known sin in my life and doing nothing to correct or restrain it. The pastor spoke at some length on this topic, pointing out our tendency to excuse habitual sin and rationalize it, saying, “Well, that’s just the way I am.” Some of us think we can bargain with God, sort of a “I’ll obey most of your commandments in exchange for leniency in this one area” arrangement. Is God corruptible? Can He be bought so cheaply, or at all? Even if God did accept such bargains, I doubt He would look warmly our cheating Him so outrageously, since we know from elsewhere in scripture that even our best efforts are worthless in terms of living up to His standard of holiness.

Nearly all men struggle with lust, in one form or another. How many of us have rationalized our impure thoughts or sexual fantasies as being an integral part of our masculinity, breaking fidelity with our wives and our God on a frequent, if not daily, basis?

I was once involved in a Promise Keeper’s group that met each week at a local business. One of the questions which came up was this: “Is it wrong for me to look at a pretty woman in my workplace?”

We discussed this at considerable length. Finally, perhaps out of exhaustion, we came to a tentative conclusion:

  1. God created woman to be beautiful, and there is nothing wrong with appreciating that beauty
  2. God’s primary purpose for a woman’s beauty is to be appreciated by her husband
  3. While a man cannot reasonably live in this world without looking at a beautiful woman once, he certainly can and ought to control himself from taking a second look, unless the woman is his wife. For most men, the sin of lust (which Jesus equates with adultery, see Matthew 5:28) occurs between the first and second glances … a man is tempted and succumbs to the sinful desire to take a second look, with the intent of gratifying his lustful thoughts.

When I was in high school, I walked about a mile to and from school each day. One afternoon as I walked along, I passed two girls, glancing at them as I passed. One of them caught my eye, and I gave that girl a second, more lingering glance. As I moved ahead of them, the one girl said to her friend, “Hey Stephanie, he sure looked you up and down.” I blushed as I walked away, because she had correctly identified the appraising, intrusive intent of my gaze. I was embarrassed because I had moved beyond innocent appreciation into lust, and I had been caught in the act.

The scriptures talk about “making a covenant with our eyes” such that we keep our appreciative glances for our wives and avoid that sinful decision to take a second look at other women. Yet there are many who draw the line with a lot more wiggle-room. In my experience, few men can trust themselves in this area, whether it be the movies we watch or the books or magazines that we read.

Many people tolerate casual dishonesty in their lives, telling ‘white lies’ or habitually deceiving the people around them. Others permit themselves to lash out in anger at the people around them, or have a bitter, sarcastic tongue. Many women (and not a few men) indulge in gossip, concealing malicious talk behind a cloak of righteous concern and prayer. Still others routinely steal from their employer or the government, pretending that some kind of entitlement or past victimization permits this behavior. Can we cherish these kinds of sin and expect that God will hear our prayers?

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Another picture with no particular connection to this blog.

This sermon made me reflect on my life and the various ‘idols’ I have erected. Some of the sins that we wink at include self-indulgence (in my case, a tendency to overeat), pride, laziness, short-temperedness and an unconcern for others. We tell ourselves that we are not perfect, and that surely God does not expect us to become flawless overnight. “I’m a work in progress,” we piously intone, implying that some or all of our sins can be ‘temporarily’ ignored. How many of us have become enslaved through habitual cherishing of sins of this kind, spending our years cut off from God’s grace?

And yet there are other reasons our prayers are ineffective:

“You want something but don’t get it. You kill and covet, but you cannot have what you want. You quarrel and fight. You do not have, because you do not ask God. When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures.” James 4:2-3

We looked at the passages that talk about the way that the Holy Spirit translates for us and presents our requests in terms of the things that we really need.

“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God’s will.”

One very basic principle of prayer hit me right between the eyes: prayer is about submitting my self to God’s will, not constraining or inducing God to give me special treatment. It may be that you have already grappled with this, but I find myself continually surprised and re-surprised (to coin an awkward word) by my negative reaction to this truth. When it comes down to it, I suspect that God is ready and willing to deny me the comforts I crave but rather may choose to allow me to suffer, if through that suffering He can mold me to His purposes. According to Hebrews 2:10, and 5:8-9, God used suffering to ‘make’ (or perhaps reveal) Jesus’ perfection. When I pray, many of my prayers are suggestions to God about how to make my life more pleasant; strange to think that the Holy Spirit may actually stand in opposition to some of these prayers.

I can just imagine the conversation among the Trinity, please excuse the liberties taken with the awesome majesty of God, no blasphemy intended:

Father: “So, I see that Tim is praying again. What do you think he really needs?”

Spirit: “Well, he’s asking for more money again, and he wants to be protected from the consequences of some bad decisions he made, but I think it would be best if we let him build some much-needed patience. Also, he continually struggles with pride and self-sufficiency, and it seems to get worse every time we give him a higher salary. He pretty much just wants to be allowed to sit back and take it easy for the next 50 years or so. We want him to rely on us, rather than taking pride in his own ability to earn a wage. I think it best that we teach him to be a better steward of what he already has. I don’t think he is making very good progress in terms of compassion for others … we need to soften up his heart a little. As to his tendency toward laziness … I think we love him too much to spoil him.”

Jesus: “You better believe it! I died for that rascal, and I won’t be satisfied until he enjoys life the way we intended, in its full abundance. Ever since he was redeemed, we’ve been looking for opportunities to help Tim realize what an awesome gift he has been given, with the Spirit as his Comforter. Tim’s not getting any younger, and every day is full of potential for Our power to fill him and mold him. I want him so full of the Spirit that he barely notices when he dies and takes up residence here!”

Father: “Well, as I always say, bad things are excellent opportunities for Our creative power. I have some other really great gifts I’d like to give him … let’s creatively disguise and repackage some of them and draw Tim to Us by building his faith and character. I can’t wait to see Tim’s face when he realizes that We’ve been acting in his best interest in spite of the hardship in his life. (Of course, that is just a figure of speech, since I can wait, and technically I’ve already seen the future, but you get the idea.)”

Spirit: “Sounds like Tim is nearly finished praying … he doesn’t take long, you know. For a guy who is so long-winded in his blog, it is strange that he can’t manage to pray for more than a few minutes at a time. I’ll provide him with a sense of Our peace, and I’ll call his attention to some of the passages that Paul wrote about being joyful in adversity.”

Jesus: “Now there’s a guy who knew about trials and tribulations.”

Father: “Not anymore! Hey, Paul, we’re talking about you again! Stop dunking John-Mark in Our river … he’s already been baptized!”

Again, please know that no disrespect or blasphemy is intended in my invention of this conversation between the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

At the core of my problem with prayer is a basic unwillingness to suffer for the cause of Christ. Although He laid down His life for me, I am considerably less ready to lay down my life for Him, especially if it might bring me discomfort or inconvenience. In such a case, how can I pray for God to glorify His Son in me?

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Here is a little girl that we pray will grow to glorify God.

There is no doubt that God wants me to have and enjoy every good thing. The problem is that most of the things on my list (happiness, wealth & possessions, health, leisure, power, sensual gratification, comfort) don’t make His top-ten list. Indeed, there is a close correspondence between those things I desire (at least in the extreme) and the list in I John 2:16-17:

“For everything in the world … the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does … comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever.”

We see that the good things that God wants for me are more lasting and valuable than the things that I want … but, like a young child, I prefer a lollipop right now to ownership of a city tomorrow..

So do we rush off and become monks, whipping our bodies and living on roots & berries (and Nutella, that well-known monastic staple) in some quest to deny the flesh? If God so wills it, then yes. But God seems to call us to submit our desires to Him, yet grants us considerable pleasure and comfort in the gifts of His hand. Often he permits us to have the lollipop today, even though it may delay our inheritance of the city; yet we must be wary of granting too much power and importance to the desires of the flesh.

Prayer, then, takes courage. No wonder many people prefer only to pray for others … who can pray for themselves, other than something like “Thy will be done”?

What does it look like, to be a person who trusts God and submits their desires to His will?

  • such a person tithes and gives sacrificially above that 10%
  • they habitually subordinate themselves to the needs of others … when you call them for help, they respond
  • they do not put the gratification of their body ahead of the well-being of others
  • they will tend to give freely of their time to God’s work
  • they do not seek to puff themselves up
  • they keep a tight rein on their tongue
  • they don’t mind looking foolish for God

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” I Corinthians 13:4-7

Sound familiar? I guess it should be no surprise that with God, everything comes back to love. If we truly love God, we’ll be able to trust Him with our lives, putting our will below His, and loving Him enough to suffer if necessary. I guess there is one prayer that I need to be praying, “Lord, please give me a heart that loves you more.”

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