You can’t outsmart the wind.
A surgeon can take your heart out of your chest, tinker with it a while, stick it back in, staple you up, and in a couple of days you’re back in your living room showing pictures to your friends on Facebook.
But no one can outsmart the wind.
We’ve sent men to the moon, we’ve grown corn in the desert, and we can turn our porch light on and off while cruising in the Caribbean.
But we can’t outsmart the wind.
Having listened to a few dozen folks take me to task because I said a third-party candidate won’t win the Presidential election come November, I thought I might elaborate a bit more on the subject since I still have a few inches of flesh that are unbruised.
If you want a third-party candidate to win, the first thing you must do is agree upon which one. Folks insist that a third candidate could beat both Clinton and Trump, but they each want us to rally around their guy. Unhappy conservative voters are tossing around a half-dozen names that they want us to vote for, but until they all unite behind one person, they’ll be screaming the same mantra every four years from now on — if we are still here and our country still stands. I start here because I see this as the largest hurdle to get over. Just between you and me, I don’t see it happening.
So, you aren’t going to vote for President? You can’t stomach either of the candidates, and your conscience won’t let you cast a ballot for either?
That’s certainly your right as an American citizen. And you’ll have plenty of company. Millions of Americans stay at home every election day for every reason under the sun. As a matter of fact, there will probably be more of you sitting at home than there will be those of us who will actually decide the future direction of our country by voting.
Like you, I wish we had better choices, but this is the bottom line: on January 20, 2017, barring some tragic catastrophe, either Hillary Clinton or Donald Trump will put his hand on the Bible and swear to uphold the Constitution as our next President. While it may be the first time in a long time that either of them has actually touched a Bible, it will still be one of those two. Like it or lump it, those are our choices. No write-in or third-party candidate is going to garner enough support to win a ticket for the self-guided White House tour that’s free every morning except Sunday and Monday — let alone become the official resident there. It will either be President Clinton or President Trump.
The pop of firecrackers and the explosion of light and color across the black sky mark the arrival of the fourth day of the month of July just as they have for past 239 years since John Hancock and his fellow rebels signed the Declaration of Independence. For me, the joy and glory that accompany this holiday are bit subdued this time around. The liberty that we celebrate has been redefined through the years, and its boundaries are significantly more confining than they were when I was a youth.
Israel’s enemy destroyed the beautiful temple that was Israel’s pride and joy. Years later, it was rebuilt and the young men cheered and danced in celebration. But when the old men walked through, they wept bitter tears because the new temple lacked the awe inspiring magnificence of the old. Gone were the soaring walls that glowed golden in the evening sun. The arches, the porches, the stunning views, all gone. The young men had never walked through the old temple so they had nothing to compare their present to. The old men, however, knew what had been lost. The shouts of the young and the cries of the old mingled together until the joy and the sadness became indistinguishable.
I love life. I really like living. One of the main reasons is that, as a child, my parents helped me understand that a life devoted to God would not only give meaning to life, but would take me through some pretty cool experiences. As I look back at fifty years of memories, I’ve got to acknowledge that they were right.
For most of my life, I’ve tried to stay close to God. I recognized His call in my teens, and I’ve prepared myself to serve. Measuring talent and skill, I fall somewhere in the middle of the pack. I’m not that great, but neither am I all that bad. I’ve learned to give it my best and realize that God takes over from there.
Over the years, my zeal has occasionally been dampened by a quiet conviction that slips in as I read scriptures that talk about sacrifice and suffering. To be honest, I don’t do either of those very well or very often.
The apostle Paul was certainly a colorful character. He didn’t hesitate to confront Peter or the Roman authorities when he thought they were wrong. By his own testimony, he traveled with caravans across desert places, encountering bandits and thieves along the way. Making tents with his hands made his living, yet when he visited the liberal free-thinking philosophers’ paradise on Mars Hill, he plunged right in the debate. And who could forget his voyage through the storm when he chided the seasoned sailors for not taking his advice, and then gave them instructions on how to save their lives?
Paul did not appear to struggle with self-esteem issues. He challenged those who thought he was a paper tiger, that he talked tough in his letters but was really a wimp, to just wait until his next visit to their town. He had no trouble giving advice and taking charge. He even (some say in his arrogance) went so far as to call the gospel “my gospel” (II Timothy 2:8).
In my few decades on this Earth, I don’t recall a time when men were more determined to prove their collective stupidity. It’s as if every evening the world’s movers and shakers review that day’s events, and plot how they can come up with something even more ridiculous before sunrise. How else can you explain our new rule that children can choose whether they want to be a boy or a girl, that everybody has free access to everybody else’s bathroom, and that the NFL and PayPal can refuse to do business with people they disagree with, but people who live in North Carolina cannot? We are so full of ourselves that we can’t see how perfectly we are fulfilling Romans 1:22. Professing ourselves to be wise, we’ve become fools.
We make very few of the products we consume in America any more. Now, we buy all that stuff from foreign countries that don’t like us while we sell each other information, personal services, medical care, and food. Quite a financial infrastructure. More than 45 million Americans are on food stamps, and Gallup reported last year that only 44% of Americans over the age of 18 have a full-time job. Meanwhile, the deficit widens and our national debt is now more than our total economic production.
Blah! For the past three weeks, I’ve traveled around the sun cradled in my worn oversized recliner. My bout with the flu evolved into my first experience with pneumonia. My family has tolerated my occupation of our living room in good humor, even offering me popsicles and jello from time to time.
While I can’t say I’ve enjoyed these days of fever and chills, they have given me time to ponder life and circumstances and trouble. I jotted down a few notes to help me remember things that seemed most significant and worthy to be revisited now and then.
The idea isn’t my own, but it’s a good one. I’m not sure I can point to a specific verse to give it scriptural sanction, but in the dust and sweat of every day living, it’s worth mulling over.
The reason I say it’s worth considering is because it connects the essence of your life – your work – to the essence of love – giving. When giving is among your highest priorities, it is frequently on your mind. Since God is love, loving to give is a sure way to stay close to His heart.
If you are one of those who struggle with knowing when, how much, and to whom you should give, this might help you sort all that out. Tithing and giving at your church is the place to start, but most of us need to give beyond our tithe and a token offering.
So, here is a suggestion for those who are a little fearful about testing their faith.
I’ve been thinking about love. Not so surprising, I guess, considering that yesterday was Valentine’s Day.
It’s not the romantic sentiments of love that I’ve been pondering, but the harder and tougher consequences that result when we mess love up.
Love is summed up by John in his short little books toward the back of the Bible, and by Paul in his letter to the Ephesians. In I John, we learn that God is love and how we manage love in our lives indicates whether or not we even know God. Then, in his weighty instructions to married couples, Paul says that love demands that we place our wants and wishes second to those of the one we love.
Love is not a burning emotion launched into your unsuspecting heart at some random meeting, but is a spiritual decision. Love is much more a commitment than it is a feeling.