This past weekend was one of those rare weekends where I was able to spend time with some of my favorite people. But it was also one of those weekends where I realize that there may not be too many more like it. It was college homecoming, which I do not get very excited about, old school acquaintances getting together and lying about how great their kids, jobs, spouses (although, there are a few that apparently took a mulligan on the first attempt in the spouse area)
What I found was a weekend where I could spend time with my dad, my son, and my grandson.
Dad and I ran errands. This is what he loves to do. He cannot sit still. He volunteers for "Meals on Wheels" because it is essentially running errands. He goes from one place to another dropping off meals to those who can't get out. He especially loves the dialysis center because he can drop off several at once. He also volunteers at the local pantry, he loves going to Kiwanis, you get the drift. So I ride along. We visit about old friends (some I can remember, others I'm not sure I've ever met) weather, what wildlife has wandered up to the house (he still owns about 12 acres of the farm and still lives there) just stuff. At 86 he is still active and fun and I enjoy being with him. He teaches me more about living life forward than anyone I know.
My son is a slightly different story. He is vested full bore in his career, his lovely wife, and their shared lives. So our opportunity to see each other is limited. There are two things that always impress me: 1. that he can and will spend time, with unending patience, with any generation. He can visit with my dad and my grandson with equal ease. One minute he is helping dad put up chairs and tables, the next he is playing baseball (or a version of it) with my grandson (his nephew). I have never been able to handle all that very gracefully. And 2. He is a man without guile. He simply cannot lie. We discovered this when he was little, he discovered it as well, so he simply does not respond if he feels uncomfortable with it. Do you know how rare this is? I live and work in a world of shifting truth, people trying to take advantage. But my son is a welcome and, I have to admit, a bit of a respite from my world. So we talk of his work, his struggles with being a man of integrity in a world of compromised morals. I am proud of his willingness to set and keep standards. It simply is who he is.
And there is the golden afternoon with my grandson down on the creek. Where do we lose the awe in seeing things new? We shot the BB gun at cactus, cans, leaves in the water, sticks, trees, nothing was safe (except me, I kept one hand on the gun and stood safely to one side) Then we ran out of BB's. So we rigged up a fishing pole, but could find no bait. Apparently my hyper-active dad had roto-tilled all the worms out of the garden. So I sent Eli to the house to get a couple of slices of bread, which we would ball up into small portions of bait. I carried the pole, Eli the bread. Big mistake. When we got back to the creek, he had eaten most of the bread because "his teeth needed it" How can you argue with a dental emergency? So one bite from a fish and all our bait was gone. So we went back to the house to get more"bait." Eli gave me careful instructions which hand should carry the "bait" and which should carry snack. I think I got it right. We caught a poor hapless catfish, took pictures, then Eli threw him back in grow a little.
Four generations. One weekend. Time well spent. My dad won't be here always, my son will only have more demands as kids and life come along and my advice will become less relevant, my grandson will hit an age where being with Grandaddy will be a drag.
So I stored this one away. Perhaps another "bend in the road" is not too distant, but for now, these generations are well placed, and well enjoyed. This is one that did not get away.
Godspeed.
Don
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
As a follow up to my last blog, let me just say, there are a lot of you out there with tremendous faith and courageous stories. Thanks for responding and giving me a glimpse of what is right and good about traveling the journey of faith.
Secondly, let me say that if anyone tries to tell you exactly who and what God is, is trying to fool you, take advantage, or is deeply misguided. This, by the way, includes me. Over the years I have come to view scripture as the equivalent of asking a 5 year-old to define true love. They simply don't have the vocabulary, experience, or mental capacity to do so. Scripture (even though we believed to be inspired) is man's attempt to convey the nature of God, and it is simply inadequate to do so.
On the same note, any theory we have about the nature of God is our feeble attempts to articulate what we feel and believe, but is completely inadequate to encompass the entire nature of God. Any theology is problematic because it is our attempt to describe God, and will always fall short.
With all that said, let me give you my current take on the nature of God and my continuing quest to understand the nuances of prayer.
It seems to me that the God we follow is a God of integrity. You might say, well, DUH! But let me explain. I think God put in place certain universal laws that are inviolate. As a tip of the hat to my daughter-in-law, mathematical laws were constructed by God and developed by man. Consequently if God is a God of integrity, 2 + 2 = 4, both in our world and in His. Because he is a God of integrity, he lives by these laws just as we do. This lies in conflict with oft-repeated claim that God can do all things. Well, yes and no. He cannot do the things that are strictly against his nature (sin, deceit, etc.) He developed the natural laws and we live by them, as he does. He allows the world to spin in an orderly fashion, the seasons come and go, we age, life is on a time-line, short for some and long for others, but these are natural laws that God allows to play out.
Now scripture does tell us that God occasionally steps in and changes the course of history by making exceptions to the laws for a brief moment in time. We refer to these as miracles. Do they still happen? I don't know, it is not my place to determine what God can and cannot do. But it seems to me that every time these "exceptions" were made, it was to further his plan of reconciliation with his creation.
It is also helpful for me to remember that scripture deals with a minuscule number of events in the scope of human existence. Millions of people lived and died, in pain, in suffering, praying and wondering and they were never mentioned in scripture. Were there more occurrences of God's intercession than was written? I would guess probably.
I am not a pure "deist" (God set the world to spinning and stepped back to see how it plays out) I'm not a "determinist" (God set all events in place before time began)
I'm not an "openness" (God can only know what can be known, in other words he can't see the future either)
And so and so on.
So I pray everyday, hoping that my words will be heard. Living with the suspicion that God will make the best decision based on his overall plan. He loves me like no other, but not to the exclusion of what he trying to accomplish. I live with the hope that he cares enough to weep with me when crushed by pain or death or suffering when he finds it impossible to answer my prayer the way I hoped.
One final thought. Our development of our personal theology is, in fact, a journey. We continue to develop, grow, gain insight, understand that our theology changes with the application ( I understand my being ill, which is fine, I don't understand my children's suffering. Consequently, my theology looks different with alternate applications) But we need to wrestle with these concepts, because in the struggle, I think we see a little of the nature of God that syncs up with ours. You see I think he struggles dealing with us, just as we do with him.
Anyway, Godspeed.
Don
Secondly, let me say that if anyone tries to tell you exactly who and what God is, is trying to fool you, take advantage, or is deeply misguided. This, by the way, includes me. Over the years I have come to view scripture as the equivalent of asking a 5 year-old to define true love. They simply don't have the vocabulary, experience, or mental capacity to do so. Scripture (even though we believed to be inspired) is man's attempt to convey the nature of God, and it is simply inadequate to do so.
On the same note, any theory we have about the nature of God is our feeble attempts to articulate what we feel and believe, but is completely inadequate to encompass the entire nature of God. Any theology is problematic because it is our attempt to describe God, and will always fall short.
With all that said, let me give you my current take on the nature of God and my continuing quest to understand the nuances of prayer.
It seems to me that the God we follow is a God of integrity. You might say, well, DUH! But let me explain. I think God put in place certain universal laws that are inviolate. As a tip of the hat to my daughter-in-law, mathematical laws were constructed by God and developed by man. Consequently if God is a God of integrity, 2 + 2 = 4, both in our world and in His. Because he is a God of integrity, he lives by these laws just as we do. This lies in conflict with oft-repeated claim that God can do all things. Well, yes and no. He cannot do the things that are strictly against his nature (sin, deceit, etc.) He developed the natural laws and we live by them, as he does. He allows the world to spin in an orderly fashion, the seasons come and go, we age, life is on a time-line, short for some and long for others, but these are natural laws that God allows to play out.
Now scripture does tell us that God occasionally steps in and changes the course of history by making exceptions to the laws for a brief moment in time. We refer to these as miracles. Do they still happen? I don't know, it is not my place to determine what God can and cannot do. But it seems to me that every time these "exceptions" were made, it was to further his plan of reconciliation with his creation.
It is also helpful for me to remember that scripture deals with a minuscule number of events in the scope of human existence. Millions of people lived and died, in pain, in suffering, praying and wondering and they were never mentioned in scripture. Were there more occurrences of God's intercession than was written? I would guess probably.
I am not a pure "deist" (God set the world to spinning and stepped back to see how it plays out) I'm not a "determinist" (God set all events in place before time began)
I'm not an "openness" (God can only know what can be known, in other words he can't see the future either)
And so and so on.
So I pray everyday, hoping that my words will be heard. Living with the suspicion that God will make the best decision based on his overall plan. He loves me like no other, but not to the exclusion of what he trying to accomplish. I live with the hope that he cares enough to weep with me when crushed by pain or death or suffering when he finds it impossible to answer my prayer the way I hoped.
One final thought. Our development of our personal theology is, in fact, a journey. We continue to develop, grow, gain insight, understand that our theology changes with the application ( I understand my being ill, which is fine, I don't understand my children's suffering. Consequently, my theology looks different with alternate applications) But we need to wrestle with these concepts, because in the struggle, I think we see a little of the nature of God that syncs up with ours. You see I think he struggles dealing with us, just as we do with him.
Anyway, Godspeed.
Don
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Prayer or Probability?
The journey this week has taken me to Phoenix and now to Portland (I seem to be stuck in cities of "p") The last leg of my trip was from Phoenix to Portland, and was well into the late evening. Since I had a window seat, with no one beside me, I was able to look out at the darkness and watch the town lights slide by below. It is moment of reflection for me, dark inside the plane, no one talking, solitude at 30,000 ft.
And as I sat and pondered various thoughts and ideas, my mind came to rest on the concept, the idea of spiritual prayer. We rarely question the need, the existence of the need for prayer. But I was really reviewing the consequences of my prayer life. Seemingly clear positive answers at times, unsettling negative answers, stunning and overwhelming silence for the rest of the time.
I reflected on the time in my life when my mother became ill with cancer and ultimately died in May 1982 of this detestable disease. My prayers were answered negatively, she was only 3 years older than I am now. The prayers over my kids, all who have grown into mature, believing adults, who are active in their faith, who are good people and married to good people. Positive answers to deep and fretful prayers. The recent re occurrence of my oldest daughter's cancer, the sobbing prayers late at night, not yet answered. Prayers offered for big concerns, and to my embarrassment, prayers offered for trivia.
For seven or eight years now, disciplined time in prayer, focused meditation around the prayer, study that enlightens the prayer, silence in the hope that prayer will investigate me, rather than my investigating it.
But at some point, the mind asks for alternatives. Are we simply living out the sheer possibility of probability. My mother died even though I and others prayed as deeply and selflessly as we could. Were the odds just simply against her? Are we simply in the fortunate few who have had good kids, who make good choices, who find good mates? Where one or two or all three simply "lucked out"? Is there some other poor family out there who ended up with a child that simply makes all the bad decisions and the odds caught up with them? Is my oldest daughter simply living out the odds?
Can we bear to consider this? Would a penny flipped a certain number of times come to expect that if it landed heads up that it was divine intervention? but that if it landed heads down it told itself that the divine answer was "no"? When in reality every time the penny is flipped it has a 50/50 chance of landing either way? I will tell you that if you want to really get some honest speculation, talk to someone who has lost someone so dear, that years later they still tear up trying to explain their loss; talk to a minster that has lost his vocation and ministry because he/she did what they thought was best and ended up crosswise with a less invested leadership group; talk to someone who has wandered into the wilderness of addiction or abuse or heartache, and see what their perspective is on the subject of prayer.
In my next post I will tell you what I think, but I would love to hear from you, either by opinion or story.
Maybe next time I'll just ask for an aisle seat.
Let me know.
Godspeed.
Don
And as I sat and pondered various thoughts and ideas, my mind came to rest on the concept, the idea of spiritual prayer. We rarely question the need, the existence of the need for prayer. But I was really reviewing the consequences of my prayer life. Seemingly clear positive answers at times, unsettling negative answers, stunning and overwhelming silence for the rest of the time.
I reflected on the time in my life when my mother became ill with cancer and ultimately died in May 1982 of this detestable disease. My prayers were answered negatively, she was only 3 years older than I am now. The prayers over my kids, all who have grown into mature, believing adults, who are active in their faith, who are good people and married to good people. Positive answers to deep and fretful prayers. The recent re occurrence of my oldest daughter's cancer, the sobbing prayers late at night, not yet answered. Prayers offered for big concerns, and to my embarrassment, prayers offered for trivia.
For seven or eight years now, disciplined time in prayer, focused meditation around the prayer, study that enlightens the prayer, silence in the hope that prayer will investigate me, rather than my investigating it.
But at some point, the mind asks for alternatives. Are we simply living out the sheer possibility of probability. My mother died even though I and others prayed as deeply and selflessly as we could. Were the odds just simply against her? Are we simply in the fortunate few who have had good kids, who make good choices, who find good mates? Where one or two or all three simply "lucked out"? Is there some other poor family out there who ended up with a child that simply makes all the bad decisions and the odds caught up with them? Is my oldest daughter simply living out the odds?
Can we bear to consider this? Would a penny flipped a certain number of times come to expect that if it landed heads up that it was divine intervention? but that if it landed heads down it told itself that the divine answer was "no"? When in reality every time the penny is flipped it has a 50/50 chance of landing either way? I will tell you that if you want to really get some honest speculation, talk to someone who has lost someone so dear, that years later they still tear up trying to explain their loss; talk to a minster that has lost his vocation and ministry because he/she did what they thought was best and ended up crosswise with a less invested leadership group; talk to someone who has wandered into the wilderness of addiction or abuse or heartache, and see what their perspective is on the subject of prayer.
In my next post I will tell you what I think, but I would love to hear from you, either by opinion or story.
Maybe next time I'll just ask for an aisle seat.
Let me know.
Godspeed.
Don
Friday, October 10, 2008
Travelers of a different Sort
I travel a lot. This is not a confession, simply a fact. 100+ segments a year is a lot even by airline standards. Consequently I get to see a lot of airline etiquette being implemented and abused.
Last night flying home it became obvious that the flight was completely full. First class checked in full (bouncing all of us who were looking for an upgrade) The standby list was 26 names when I arrived at the gate, which meant if they were going to accommodate them all, it was going to take every seat. This creates a certain tension because now you are wondering what poor slub is slotted to sit next to you in the middle seat (I try to book early and always get a window or aisle)
Of course not as much tension as the poor guy who is actually in the middle with no room for arms or feet or carry-on.
So now the airlines charge the occasional passenger (not the frequent passengers, we get a pass on the baggage check fee) to check their luggage. So what do the passengers do? You guessed it, EVERYONE brings their suitcases on the plane! Besides slowing the boarding process to a crawl, it now takes an engineer to figure out how to get the maximum amount of bags in a very small space.
Here's the dilemma. I carry a very large rolling briefcase. It is my office, with laptop, monthly reports, electronics, and of course snacks. If I could figure out how to install a small fridge I'd be great on these trips. All this to say the case is a little too big to go under the seat and looks a little small to go in the overhead.
Last night as the plane filled up, it was apparent that not all the bags were going into the overhead. I don't mean a few weren't going to fit, there was going to be 20 bags or so that were going to have to be gate-checked. A young 20-something lady stopped beside my aisle and began to make assessments about the overheads, including the one my briefcase was in. Now she was carrying a large rollerbag, a goodsize briefcase, and a purse (she shouldn't have been able to get on with all three, but that is another blog) but she felt that all her stuff should fit in the overheads at the expense of everyone else's stuff. So with great authority she began demanding whose bag was this and whose bag was that and tyring to rearrange the overhead to accomodate her carryons.
Those who know me, know that I am pretty much a live and let live kind of guy. I don't lose my cool very often, and usually get a little enjoyment out of every situation. I have the gift of finding the humor in it all. But my humor quotient was tapped out, tough week, long day, and I was ready to go home. So when she indicated my bag in the overhead and asked in a loud, obnoxious shrill, "whose bag is this?" I sat for a moment and pondered my reponse. The annoyance was starting a small pressure in my chest, but was sure to bloom into full fledged anger if she continued to be rude. Do I meekly get up and try to find other space for my bag? All the spaces were full, her's wouldn't fit in the space anyway. Do I avoid the confrontation and keep my mouth shut (see, I do consider it, while not often practicing it)?
I am a teacher by gift and by inclination, so I decided to try and help the young lady with a life lesson.
Very quietly I said, "It's mine"
"Well, you need to move it, so others can get their bags in the overhead!"
"No"
I have never seen a two letter word evoke such an emotional response. She was livid.
Now we have the flight attendents trying to get everyone to sit down, so they can take off, but this lady was holding up the entire process due to her poor planning.
I never moved, in confrontations of any sort, the high ground is preferred, but I conceded the high ground (her standing, me sitting) to make a point. We stared at each other for a moment, then I said, "would you like me to pay your baggage fee? since that was what should have been done in the first place?"
I have raised two daughters through the teen wars, into early adult life. I am impervious to the huff and puff and the eyeroll of young ladies. But I will say that she was pretty good at it, not as good as my girls, but pretty good. She started to stomp on down the aisle, but I got up and said, "let me help you get situated, find your seat and I will take this to the front for a gate check, they will give it to you on the jet bridge in Dallas."
At this point the flight attendant stepped in and began inform everyone left standing to take their bags to the front of the plane. They handled it.
What should I have done? I mused on that for the entire flight. To simply move the bag was the simplest, but was it the best? I was not going to get into a screaming match, I've lost too many of those. Did she learn that buisness travel takes planning and timing? Did she learn that the world is not there to accomodate her?
I don't know. Those of us who see the journey in a different light need to be more proactive about helping others understand their role. I wish the young lady and I had been seated next to each other so I could explain my response. We need people of discernment, people who won't budge when a life's lesson is in the making. People who will illuminate a better way, a way of discipline, a way of compassion which calls upon people to grow.
Next time I will try to find out where she sits and see if the person next to her will trade with me. That alone will teach to her to plan ahead.
Anyway, Godspeed to all you who are traveling along.
Don
Last night flying home it became obvious that the flight was completely full. First class checked in full (bouncing all of us who were looking for an upgrade) The standby list was 26 names when I arrived at the gate, which meant if they were going to accommodate them all, it was going to take every seat. This creates a certain tension because now you are wondering what poor slub is slotted to sit next to you in the middle seat (I try to book early and always get a window or aisle)
Of course not as much tension as the poor guy who is actually in the middle with no room for arms or feet or carry-on.
So now the airlines charge the occasional passenger (not the frequent passengers, we get a pass on the baggage check fee) to check their luggage. So what do the passengers do? You guessed it, EVERYONE brings their suitcases on the plane! Besides slowing the boarding process to a crawl, it now takes an engineer to figure out how to get the maximum amount of bags in a very small space.
Here's the dilemma. I carry a very large rolling briefcase. It is my office, with laptop, monthly reports, electronics, and of course snacks. If I could figure out how to install a small fridge I'd be great on these trips. All this to say the case is a little too big to go under the seat and looks a little small to go in the overhead.
Last night as the plane filled up, it was apparent that not all the bags were going into the overhead. I don't mean a few weren't going to fit, there was going to be 20 bags or so that were going to have to be gate-checked. A young 20-something lady stopped beside my aisle and began to make assessments about the overheads, including the one my briefcase was in. Now she was carrying a large rollerbag, a goodsize briefcase, and a purse (she shouldn't have been able to get on with all three, but that is another blog) but she felt that all her stuff should fit in the overheads at the expense of everyone else's stuff. So with great authority she began demanding whose bag was this and whose bag was that and tyring to rearrange the overhead to accomodate her carryons.
Those who know me, know that I am pretty much a live and let live kind of guy. I don't lose my cool very often, and usually get a little enjoyment out of every situation. I have the gift of finding the humor in it all. But my humor quotient was tapped out, tough week, long day, and I was ready to go home. So when she indicated my bag in the overhead and asked in a loud, obnoxious shrill, "whose bag is this?" I sat for a moment and pondered my reponse. The annoyance was starting a small pressure in my chest, but was sure to bloom into full fledged anger if she continued to be rude. Do I meekly get up and try to find other space for my bag? All the spaces were full, her's wouldn't fit in the space anyway. Do I avoid the confrontation and keep my mouth shut (see, I do consider it, while not often practicing it)?
I am a teacher by gift and by inclination, so I decided to try and help the young lady with a life lesson.
Very quietly I said, "It's mine"
"Well, you need to move it, so others can get their bags in the overhead!"
"No"
I have never seen a two letter word evoke such an emotional response. She was livid.
Now we have the flight attendents trying to get everyone to sit down, so they can take off, but this lady was holding up the entire process due to her poor planning.
I never moved, in confrontations of any sort, the high ground is preferred, but I conceded the high ground (her standing, me sitting) to make a point. We stared at each other for a moment, then I said, "would you like me to pay your baggage fee? since that was what should have been done in the first place?"
I have raised two daughters through the teen wars, into early adult life. I am impervious to the huff and puff and the eyeroll of young ladies. But I will say that she was pretty good at it, not as good as my girls, but pretty good. She started to stomp on down the aisle, but I got up and said, "let me help you get situated, find your seat and I will take this to the front for a gate check, they will give it to you on the jet bridge in Dallas."
At this point the flight attendant stepped in and began inform everyone left standing to take their bags to the front of the plane. They handled it.
What should I have done? I mused on that for the entire flight. To simply move the bag was the simplest, but was it the best? I was not going to get into a screaming match, I've lost too many of those. Did she learn that buisness travel takes planning and timing? Did she learn that the world is not there to accomodate her?
I don't know. Those of us who see the journey in a different light need to be more proactive about helping others understand their role. I wish the young lady and I had been seated next to each other so I could explain my response. We need people of discernment, people who won't budge when a life's lesson is in the making. People who will illuminate a better way, a way of discipline, a way of compassion which calls upon people to grow.
Next time I will try to find out where she sits and see if the person next to her will trade with me. That alone will teach to her to plan ahead.
Anyway, Godspeed to all you who are traveling along.
Don
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Stuck in the Middle
While traveling this week to the city of Angels, there has been a recurring thought and observation. Our society tells us that if we act a certain way, respond a certain way, just have the right attitude that ultimately this will become the truth.
I've decided that perhaps the opposite is probably the truth. We live our theology. Dallas Willard says, "if we don't live it, we don't believe it."
So how does this play out? I have occasion to visit with people who are remarkably younger than I am. There is a great deal that I like about these younger generations, but there is at least one thing that makes me scratch my head.
For instance, in conversation with a young lady this past week she referenced her live-in boyfriend and her "born again" status in Christianity. So I gently encouraged her to tell me how she reconciles these two constructs in her life. It was very easy, she saw no connection. My generation would call this sloppy theology, but I had to rein in my indignation and judgement when it occurred to me that she probably learned this from my generation. I'm at the end of a generation that pioneered the sexual revolution. The pill removed the greatest taboo (at that time) of an unwanted pregnancy and the condemnation that accompanied it. Our theme song was Love the One You're With. We invented the "consumer" society. The only difference was that we bent theology to our desires, this younger generation just doesn't let the two conflicting ideas talk to each other.
Somewhere along the line we live out what we believe. We can't simply move along the buffet line of life and theology, picking out what we want and ignoring the rest. My life has to reflect my theology, which it probably does. So what does our life activities say about our theology? Well, as long as God doesn't try to control my schedule or my checkbook, then I'm for him. As long as I can treat people the way I choose to, instead as he instructed, then we are good. As long as I get to have my stuff, do the things I enjoy, judge who I choose, etc. then God gets my vote.
Self-revelation is tough. It is much easier to just poke holes in others theology than to examine my take on it and the application of it.
Whew, I think that's enough for today.
Godspeed, my friends.
Don
I've decided that perhaps the opposite is probably the truth. We live our theology. Dallas Willard says, "if we don't live it, we don't believe it."
So how does this play out? I have occasion to visit with people who are remarkably younger than I am. There is a great deal that I like about these younger generations, but there is at least one thing that makes me scratch my head.
For instance, in conversation with a young lady this past week she referenced her live-in boyfriend and her "born again" status in Christianity. So I gently encouraged her to tell me how she reconciles these two constructs in her life. It was very easy, she saw no connection. My generation would call this sloppy theology, but I had to rein in my indignation and judgement when it occurred to me that she probably learned this from my generation. I'm at the end of a generation that pioneered the sexual revolution. The pill removed the greatest taboo (at that time) of an unwanted pregnancy and the condemnation that accompanied it. Our theme song was Love the One You're With. We invented the "consumer" society. The only difference was that we bent theology to our desires, this younger generation just doesn't let the two conflicting ideas talk to each other.
Somewhere along the line we live out what we believe. We can't simply move along the buffet line of life and theology, picking out what we want and ignoring the rest. My life has to reflect my theology, which it probably does. So what does our life activities say about our theology? Well, as long as God doesn't try to control my schedule or my checkbook, then I'm for him. As long as I can treat people the way I choose to, instead as he instructed, then we are good. As long as I get to have my stuff, do the things I enjoy, judge who I choose, etc. then God gets my vote.
Self-revelation is tough. It is much easier to just poke holes in others theology than to examine my take on it and the application of it.
Whew, I think that's enough for today.
Godspeed, my friends.
Don
Friday, October 3, 2008
Another Thought
$700 Billion, with a "b." Stunning in its size, truly incomprehensible for most of us regular folks who really can't grasp the magnitude of a million with a "m." Our society has grown used to the "m" crowd, actors, athletes, tele-evangelists, dot-com entrepreneurs, and others, people who are annually awarded lottery winner status.
But lets look at this from a different perspective.
200 million workers in America, give or take. Now lets divide the $700 Billion by 200 million, does that really compute to $3,500,000 per wage earner? or is it $35,000,000 per wage earner? My little calculator doesn't have enough zeros. I've got an idea, why don't they just give me my share and see how well I reinvest it in the economy. I'll even pay taxes on the thing which will refund the government for operating expenses. We will dramatically lower the debt load on the average American worker, most of us will reinvest in the economy (I'll replace my 10 year old, 200,000 mile truck) and think of the boost for the non-profits.
Here is what I suspect, though. The money ain't there. This is all smoke and mirrors, which when investigated will be so much Washington yapping, that really just puts a little more money in their pockets and gives them the chance to have a little more say in our lives.
The nomad rabbi from Nazareth was right, the root of all evil is the love of money, or at least the love of possible money.
We are going to let the nincompoops who got us into this devise the plan to get us out? Good luck. This is certainly an interesting part of the journey.
Godspeed.
Don
But lets look at this from a different perspective.
200 million workers in America, give or take. Now lets divide the $700 Billion by 200 million, does that really compute to $3,500,000 per wage earner? or is it $35,000,000 per wage earner? My little calculator doesn't have enough zeros. I've got an idea, why don't they just give me my share and see how well I reinvest it in the economy. I'll even pay taxes on the thing which will refund the government for operating expenses. We will dramatically lower the debt load on the average American worker, most of us will reinvest in the economy (I'll replace my 10 year old, 200,000 mile truck) and think of the boost for the non-profits.
Here is what I suspect, though. The money ain't there. This is all smoke and mirrors, which when investigated will be so much Washington yapping, that really just puts a little more money in their pockets and gives them the chance to have a little more say in our lives.
The nomad rabbi from Nazareth was right, the root of all evil is the love of money, or at least the love of possible money.
We are going to let the nincompoops who got us into this devise the plan to get us out? Good luck. This is certainly an interesting part of the journey.
Godspeed.
Don
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