Saturdays this time of year are filled with grass to be cut, gardens to be hoed, races to be run, balls to be thrown, breakfasts to be eaten, grills to be started. I love all of those things. I’m reminded of the joys of summer vacation, really, when we have a great Saturday. I don’t know how my parents ever got anything done on those days – It really is tough. But totally worth it!
So, it’s not so bad when your two-year-old starts climbing into the bed with you in the middle of the night.
But yeah, it’s pretty bad when he starts tickling you in the middle of the night.
Or an advert, if you’re British. But, chances are that you aren’t. So there.
Sometimes it really does feel like everything is an ad. I listen to the radio, and beyond the obvious ads, the DJs are talking about their favorite products (Tivo! Burgers from X! TV Shows!). Product placements on TV have gotten worse. (did the man in black from Lost use an Apple computer in the last episode? No. He didn’t. But it would’ve been funny if he had.)
Of course, you go to the store and it’s that way too. Every chance they get to remind you of how unfulfilled you’ll feel until you buy! buy! buy!
We consume. We’re expected to consume. Consume and throw away. The more they convince you to consume, the better off they’ll be. I think it’s important for us to remember that. That’s how they pay the bills.
My boy’s relationship with his mom is a great analogy for the persistence of sin. It is not uncommon to hear “Sorry Momma, not obey” even as he starts picking up the offending object again. (In the most recent case I remember, something in the bathroom… my toothbrush, perhaps?) Sin is like that… and God’s patience is like my wife, too… dealing with the problem while loving the little boy. It’s good for my heart.
Growing up, no matter how well someone attempted to explain some concepts, it was only in story that I really started to get my head around it. I think that’s still true a lot of the time. I understand the idea of grace better through story than if you just talk about the propositional definition of it. I understand the idea of justice better through story than if you just talk about the propositional definition of it.
This is one of the reasons that I love story so much. It is a powerful tool for communicating truth and ideas. Bridge to Teribithia communicates big ideas about loss and death and imagination, but it never feels like the author forces it. The story does it.
Of course, there IS a danger inherent to communicating truth through story — it becomes easy for the story to become the new definition, or for nuances from the story that are not necessarily directly related to the truth to become part of our understanding of the truth. Every analogy breaks down.
But, even with the danger, story is a powerful way to communicate truth. God thinks so, too. (See all those great parables in the Gospels, for example. Or the true (and often messy) stories of Abraham, David, Nehemiah, and Paul.)
The NHL playoffs continue. Without my interest, I might add. Seriously, the Montreal Canadiens playing the Philadelphia Flyers has all the intrigue for me of Lex Luthor fighting the Romulans. Wait, no, that would be kind of awesome. The hockey thing is more like two things you disdain because they’re lame rather than because they’re “bad guys.” Anyway, analogy failed, but bottom line: NHL playoffs at this point? Meh.
However, there is an international hockey tournament going on over in Europe somewhere. The IIHF holds a world hockey championship every year — even in Olympic years. You’d think someone would be like, “Hey guys, um, we just had the winter olympics, which kind of established a world champion in a sport, so maybe, umm, can we skip a year?” Nope, no need to do that. Of course, the rosters end up looking a little different. Athletes who are invited to the Olympics go. Athletes who are invited to the WHC sometimes stop to think about it. Plus, the playoffs are still going on when it starts, so not everyone is available.
Yep, see, right there, I did it. I already gave a good reason why Canada stunk it up and is out of the WHC in the quarter finals. It’s not that we’re not the best (See: Olympics, Winter, 2010), it’s that our best aren’t there. It stinks that the Russians knocked us out. But, they probably feel a little bit better about that Olympic thing, now.
Just kidding. They don’t feel any better. Winning the World Hockey Championship won’t make them feel any better. They’ll have to wait 4 years to try to heal that wound. In your face, Russia!
And they said the cold war was dead.
“One of the reasons mature people stop learning is that they become less and less willing to risk failure.”
John W Gardener
I listened to this talk by Seth Godin, in which he explains the true reasons that we don’t deliver things we said we would. Fear is the most prevalent reason. Seth does a better job explaining it than I could. Listen to it.
You end up with blogposts about how ticked off I am with things not working. The internet seems to be… less-than-functional? … this morning in the Mackay household.
If this had happened on the bridge of the Star ship Enterprise (Next Generation, not the original) it would’ve gone like this:
Picard: Number One, put the Vulcan commander on screen. Mr Warf, prepare to fire.
Warf: Weapons ready, captain.
Riker: Um, captain, we’d like to put the commander on screen, but every time we tell the computer to do so, it just sits there waiting to load.
Picard: Number One, do you not know how to use the ship’s computer? Perhaps incompetence is at the core of our problems. Data, please find out why Mr. Riker can’t get the Vulcan commander on screen.
Data: I’m sorry captain, it appears that my logic system is still attempting to load. I am unable to parse what you just said.
Picard: I really should’ve stayed with the Borg. Or done another X Men movie. That would’ve worked too. Heck, I could’ve continued doing one-man plays on broadway. No, come back to the Enterprise, it’ll be great. This isn’t great. This is stupid.
And so on.
We continue to watch our (hopefully) future garden plants grow on tables around the house. Strategically placed to receive the most sun possible, they seem to be moving more slowly than we had anticipated (probably our fault), but still, green growth is taking place.
There are so many spiritual analogies that spring naturally from this process. It’s helping me to think particularly about what I’m “taking in.” With these hundred or so plants, we’ve been careful to use good soil and to water consistently. In life, though, I’m not so sure that I always take steps to make sure that spiritually, I’m pursuing the best ingredients for growth. The primary mover in all these things is not me, but God — without Him, not a seed would sprout. Still, the whole gardening thing makes me a little more aware of my responsibility.
Someone else's kid strikes an ugly face.
Can you imagine what it’d be like if one of your coworkers called you on your facial expression the way I call my kid on his? “Hey, wipe that ugly look off your face!” I bet that you wouldn’t respond the way my boy does. He usually smiles, or sometimes throws a tantrum that results in discipline and eventually reconciliation.
For some reason, once we’re past the age of… 14? 18? I’m not sure, but somewhere in there, we are given (or take) the right to pout without consequence. Somehow, all of the sudden, the thing our parents likely spent years calling us on is okay. Go figure.
Maybe we’d be better off if we kept on working at it.
Probably.
Just don’t remind me that I said that the next time you catch me pouting. Instead, just say “Wipe that ugly look off your face.” I’ll probably come back with something about it being permanent.
Just kidding.
