To Believe Or Not

Do you hope for the new year, or do you believe?

What is the difference? Well, in our current vernacular it seems to be vague.  The two words are often used interchangeably.   However, by definition, HOPE means to wish for something you think has a real possibility of happening.  To BELIEVE is to accept something as true or real.  

People that are of broken means or heart sometimes think that life happens to them.   People that are of wealthy means or heart believe their future is determined by their own creative powers.  The former possess a victim mentality.  To be sure, the later does not dismiss reality when it happens right in front of them, but keeps on believing  their dream is true and real despite any number of obstacles.  That's the difference.  

When the shadows of our past and the fear of our future keeps us from believing in the here and now, we are short circuited and we reach this place of static unbelief.  Because we know what God promises but cannot seem to mix it with faith----even the smallest amount---we become powerless to the demons that circle to devour us.  We try to remain positive though, if only in word, and we cling to our faith with a statement like, "I hope I get this job," or "I sure hope things work out."

But there is one thing you must know in these places.  Faith is not a matter of material revelation, or what happens to you.  It is a matter of immaterial confirmation, or what you believe WILL happen.  If you were created in the image of God and He is the Author of Creation, it is not unreasonable to believe that you are also an agent of His continued creativity.  Knowing that, you will then determine your actions accordingly.   

Your faith---the sustaining kind---will never be stirred to action because of something that is already materialized.  That is not faith at all.  That is why the distance between belief and unbelief seem such a broad jump.  To believe for a miracle in human terms seems like a journey of a thousand miles.  But faith can leap that distance in an instant for someone who chooses to grasp hold of it---however small it may be.  Visualizing dreams in detailed manner allows us focus in the present and use our time wisely until such future dreams invade reality.  Seeing the end from the beginning is a small seed of faith right now that jump starts our actions into creating that future. 

So let me ask again, do you HOPE for the new year, or do you BELIEVE?

BACK THEN

Somewhere in an old box in my study I found a photo of me when I was eighteen. It was taken during 5th period band on a practice field. I had a drum major whistle around my neck and I was playing the trumpet. When I think of all the decisions I've made since then, I can't help but chuckle as I wonder, on any given day, what were the biggest decisions I had to make back then. 

Items not on the list were things like: money for the mortgage, food on the table and insurance for the car. Mom and Dad decided things like that so I could be a kid.  And being a kid was fun. But there came a time later, and it was more a gradual process than an overnight bombshell, when adult decisions started to be made such as choice of career, who I married, where I lived. It wasn't long until children of my own became beneficiaries of my decisions. Mortgages, schedules and budgets were now part of everyday life. 

Sometimes, when I find old photos like this, I feel like that was a different life and I am a different person. Back then it was. I was. I can escape and reminisce and remember how fortunate I was back then to have been afforded the beauty of a carefree childhood. But to the man who is given much, much is also required. I am not unaware of the immense blessings of my life--my faith, my family, my relationships, my home.  Each of these have required a pretty serious commitment. 

Some people may have wished to go back to a simpler time in their life for one reason or another. Not me. Most of what I have in my life now has been decided on since that carefree afternoon in the picture. The happiness and fulfillment I have in my life now could scarce be understood by that blond-hair-blowing-tennis-shoe-wearing-trumpet-playing teenager back then.  

HARVEST

I passed a wheat field on the way home from work today.  Around this time of year the golden hues emerge, spelling the imminence of harvest.  I stopped and took this picture out of my car window as the warm summer breeze created a wave across the field.  Later,  I began to think about the vast number of wheat stalks in this field---not to mention the kernels. The number was staggering and not unlike the grains of sand at the beach.

Why is this talk of wheat such a big deal?  I drive by these fields everyday. Why devote a blog entry to such a mundane, everyday part of life?  The secret of the seed is the essence of life.  Learn the lessons contained there and the meaning of your own life is not far away.

The crown jewel of any plant is the bud, the flower or the fruit.  Within each of these is the seed which contain the DNA of many successive generations.  The code for whether a plant becomes a flowering bush or an apple tree is held securely in the seed. Only when that seed falls to the ground and is broken apart or crushed can a new generation emerge.

People as a rule do not like change.  But change is a season that is natural as any summer harvest.  There is a planting, a ripening, and a harvest.  And when the time comes for the threshing---the separating of the grain from the chaff---there is a brokenness and pain and a certain degree of vulnerability.  The kernel is being exposed for the first time to outside elements.

In human terms and events, the process is painful and unpleasant perhaps because we take it personal instead of taking it with the understanding presented here in the lesson of the wheat.  We misunderstand the ripeness of the harvest---saying that we are not ready or that it is not time.  We misunderstand the chaff or the ones we are separated from during the harvest and replanting.  It is not that those people were not right for the previous season, they are just not right for the current one.  People move in and out of our lives with the ebb and flow of the yearly summer harvest.  Offense, which is decided upon by you and me, will keep us from being fruitful in the new harvest.  Pliable, vulnerable, usable, plant-able---the "right now' conditions of a future harvest.

INSIDE

The weatherman called for a 90% chance of rain all day. For added misery, the temperature was supposed to drop to the low 40's by days end. Did I mention that I am a mailman? I was relieved that today was my day off. I stopped writing and recording in the study just a few moments ago to come make myself some lunch. The rain is still coming down.

My nature has always been the outdoorsy type. And when it's sunny outside, I want to be outside. But a day like today is better suited for something indoors. So I've been in my study all morning tooling around with some tunes that I've written. One song in particular I am working on now trying to find that right feel, that right rhythm, that right something to let this song stand on its own. Sometimes this process is more work than at others. If you want songs to all sound the same, then you can skip this process entirely. But something as simple as nuance, lyric choice, chord pattern, or melody can make or break a song.

While the sun is not shining, I will take this chance and use this opportunity to write, to make music, and compose. Who knows when I'll get this"indoor" day again?

EMPTYNESS-T

I can't tell you how many times I've sat here looking out my front window.  Thinking.  This is where my laptop stays---for the most part.  Since I rarely take it with me anywhere, it sits in my study and, by such placement, offers me a vantage point to the street outside. 

It's a great view, but nothing ever happens on this cul-de-sac.  The only cars coming down the street are the neighbors or the odd delivery vehicle.  Just to my east is a guy who works from home so the FedEx van visits there quite often.  There is an older couple that lives up the hill on the end.  Next to them is a retired single man with his dog who faithfully accompanies him on long daily walks.  I see them sometimes half-way to town.  He has a lot of time on his hands and the dog seems to love it.  To my left is a couple, kind of like us, with one child grown and out of the house and one still in school.  The single lady who moved in across the street has a twelve-year-old son who plays the saxophone and rides his motorcycle all around their adjoining pond, woods and two acre lot.  I seem to know my neighbors well enough, but like I said before, nothing ever happens on this cul-de-sac.  Not anymore.

Perhaps the gloom creeps in mostly when I think about the hot bed of activity our house was when the girls were still at home.  There was always band, choir, softball, soccer, church and school projects to keep us hopping.  I say "us" because parents play a strong role in all of these if you haven't heard.  We've lived so vicariously through our kids that by the time they are out on their own, we don't know how to live our own lives once again.  Things slow way down and the house seems very empty. 

Maybe that's it.  That's the culprit that won't come out of hiding and be identified.  Empty nest is a condition that deceptively hangs around longer than you first thought.  One, maybe two years and I'll have this thing licked, you say.  Then suddenly, out of nowhere, you hear laughter from a neighbor kid down the block and this happy sound echoes more vacantly than it should.  That is when you know for the hundredth time that your tiny window has passed.  That is when fears of irrelevance steal in.

It takes courage and strong will to let go of such thoughts and shape instead a future built on reality and hope.  The time is now and what is past is confidently sealed up in the trust that you raised them right and now they are soaring on into adulthood.  If you are a parent and not quite here yet, make the most of what is in front of you now.  If you are a parent and nodding your head with everything I have said---strong will and courage to us all. 

THE BOOK NOOK

A couple of years ago my father-in-law gave me what remained of his pastor library. After being a minister for over thirty years, he had amassed quite a collection. What I found interesting about these theology books is that, no matter what generation they were written, many are still relevant. Books that address the condition and nature of the human heart never go out of style. And now many of them sit on shelves in my study.

I guess that's why I like coming in here. Whether I am sitting and reading or researching and writing, this room has become a sanctuary to me. When I look at the books on the shelf, I know I am surrounded by hundreds of authors representing a thousand or more years of experience. Experience gleaned from countless hours of prayer, meditation and deep thought. Experience cultivated from the reality of broken hearts, hopeful dreams and divine inspiration. This is the real stuff.

I am reminded of that great cloud of witnesses. Men of great wisdom---whose life down here ran out of days---are living still through every prayerful word and Spirit-inspired thought. And I cannot help but sense that my own voice in this world is carried to a future generation on the generous wings of a past one.

PAIN WITH A PURPOSE

 

My oldest brother is eight years my senior. So when he was in high school, I hadn't even made it to junior high yet. But around that time was one of the most memorable for me as a nine-year-old. He had this weight set in our garage. He would bring his friends over and they took turns bench pressing or power clinging or squatting. When they were gone, he would teach me the technique of it all and we worked out together listening to Peter Frampton, Steve Miller or the Eagles.
 

I recall the first time I experienced the soreness that went along with a proper workout. When you're nine there are many first-times and this one kind of took me by surprise. I woke up at the "breakfast call" and walked down the hallway to the kitchen thinking, "What is this strange feeling in my muscles?" I would learn that this was something to expect after workouts. It even became a gauge to determine how much I was developing from these workouts. The "no pain, no gain" mantra became familiar to me as a nine-year-old.
 

But one day, a classmate of my brother's came over to work out with him. This was a guy I'd heard my brother and his friends talk about and almost idolize for his workout discipline and strength. He was a gym guru---not to mention he was "ripped." Of course I wanted to hang around and get a good look at this guy. So when they cranked up the music and started lifting, I sauntered into the garage. My brother said, "Hey, James this is my little brother---he can bench 95 pounds." And almost as if I were a side-show attraction, he loaded the bar with the proper weight and had me show off for him. After I got up, no amount of pain and sore muscles could compare to the accolades I was given by these older guys. They told me how great I'd done and I was grinning ear to ear.
 

There is a payoff one day. Though life is full of unpleasant things we go through from time to time, one day all the pain and suffering we encounter here will be gone and we will glimpse the splendor of heaven and the accolades of the Father He will say, "Well done my child, enter in." At that moment we will know the workout was worth it.