While reading another chapter from a Dallas Willard book, the phrase "astonished reverence" just jumped off the page at me. And like a tickle in the back of my throat, I can't get it out of my mind.
Now, mind you, this has been one of those weeks we all dread. Brutal travel schedule (late nights on the road) a major customer going through "re-org" and all the stress of trying to negotiate a deal that leaves all of us healthy, stress in the office, missing a "bad weather day" with my bride because I was on the road, this was one of those weeks to make you rethink this entire career deal.
And all the while, ruminating on the concept of astonished reverence. The obvious reference is "worship" but if you have a limited view of worship, the term "astonished reverence" does not get fully explained. Then it occurred to me that the moments of worship can happen anywhere and at any time. Sunrise from a deer blind, bundled close to a sleeping grandchild, watching a daughter dance her "first dance", watching a son catch a touchdown pass, embraced by a loving wife at the end of a long tough week, watching any of my kids hug their spouses. Astonished by the emotions of unconditional love, astonished by the sheer good luck of being in the right place at the right moment. Wide-eyed astonishment that this moment of worship has dropped into your life with no planning or implementation on your part. To be the recipient of this grandeur without any warning at all.
Which leads to the second word, reverence. To stand in the presence of this moment and realize you are the full recipient and totally unprepared and perhaps totally unworthy. There is no way to fully understand reverence without the quality of humility. To be stunned into total thankfulness with no rationalization at all.
And even as I write these words, they still don't explain fully what I am trying to say. The closest I can come is to reflect on the birth of my children and grandchildren. Words fail as you try to comprehend the enormity of the moment. There simply isn't anything to fill the space except..astonished reverence.
Words fail me, except the words mentioned Astonished Reverence. Indeed.
Godspeed
Don
Friday, January 30, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
Plane Down!
If you don't travel much, the news about the US Air flight going into the Hudson probably didn't make much of an impact. But if you travel as much as I do, your mind naturally wonders what you would do, how would you handle it. The stories of some passengers helping, others shoving to escape, still others panicked into immobility. The rightful praise of pilot and crew ( I always have to remind myself that the cabin crew is there for our safety, not waitresses at 30,000 ft.) These stories always make me wonder how I would react.
I have always been pretty good in emergencies, my daughter's health issues, thinking in the midst of car crashes, helping others who are in distress.
Reminds me of a story at a church I was at not long ago. We had a member who was prone to blackouts. He was a sizable guy and when it hit, would just collapse on the floor, eyes rolled up in his head, total collapse. He would literally just puddle down to the floor. One Sunday he looked a little pale, left the assembly and walked into the foyer. I followed to make sure he was okay, and just as I caught up to him, he went down like dropping a bag of sand off the end of the truck. I tried to catch him, but let me say, you don't "catch" a 300 lb. guy unless you are looking for hernia surgery, you slow him down a little. One of the elders had followed us out as well, we will call him Scott. Scott's eyes popped wide open, and as I knelt to check on the fallen member, Scott did one of the funniest things I have ever seen. Scott looked like he was tethered on both sides and as his brain tried to give instructions he would start one way, be brought up short like a watch dog on a leash, then jerk the other direction, only to be yanked short on that side as well. I looked at him and told him to go get Dr. so and so, who was in that (my head nodding in the direction Scott needed to go) direction. The instructions apparently untethered the poor guy and he headed out. I have chuckled about that ever since. But it brings me to the real point.
When I board I always fight the temptation to turn to the passenger next to me and say, "My name is Don, thought we might get to know each other a little, in case we die on this plane together." My bride thinks this is rude. However, it might open up some in-depth theological discussions. But I try to sit in the exit row seats (if not upgraded) It just makes me feel better to know that I will be thinking about getting the door open, not "Scott" trying to figure out which way to go. The one story from the US Air event that impressed me was the exit row passenger that spent his time looking at the emergency card, so when the plane hit, he was ready. Instead of praying (I'm for prayer, so ease up on the emails) he was getting ready, and knew what to do as soon as the impact was over. Just as an aside, a life of prayer is better than a panicked, last ditch effort at prayer in the final moments (I wonder if God's prayer email system handles these last minute attempts as spam?).
Anyway, I also make sure the cabin crew sees my Platinum Executive luggage tag, just in case they are profiling passengers.
The guy at church was okay. When he came to, he wanted to drive himself home, we, uh, insisted on driving him home. I have no idea if Scott recovered, but at least we got him out of the foyer so we could help the fallen. Hmmm, get the elders out of the way so we can help the fallen, interesting idea.
Anyway, I hope my flight this afternoon goes smoothly,
Godspeed to the rest of you.
Don
I have always been pretty good in emergencies, my daughter's health issues, thinking in the midst of car crashes, helping others who are in distress.
Reminds me of a story at a church I was at not long ago. We had a member who was prone to blackouts. He was a sizable guy and when it hit, would just collapse on the floor, eyes rolled up in his head, total collapse. He would literally just puddle down to the floor. One Sunday he looked a little pale, left the assembly and walked into the foyer. I followed to make sure he was okay, and just as I caught up to him, he went down like dropping a bag of sand off the end of the truck. I tried to catch him, but let me say, you don't "catch" a 300 lb. guy unless you are looking for hernia surgery, you slow him down a little. One of the elders had followed us out as well, we will call him Scott. Scott's eyes popped wide open, and as I knelt to check on the fallen member, Scott did one of the funniest things I have ever seen. Scott looked like he was tethered on both sides and as his brain tried to give instructions he would start one way, be brought up short like a watch dog on a leash, then jerk the other direction, only to be yanked short on that side as well. I looked at him and told him to go get Dr. so and so, who was in that (my head nodding in the direction Scott needed to go) direction. The instructions apparently untethered the poor guy and he headed out. I have chuckled about that ever since. But it brings me to the real point.
When I board I always fight the temptation to turn to the passenger next to me and say, "My name is Don, thought we might get to know each other a little, in case we die on this plane together." My bride thinks this is rude. However, it might open up some in-depth theological discussions. But I try to sit in the exit row seats (if not upgraded) It just makes me feel better to know that I will be thinking about getting the door open, not "Scott" trying to figure out which way to go. The one story from the US Air event that impressed me was the exit row passenger that spent his time looking at the emergency card, so when the plane hit, he was ready. Instead of praying (I'm for prayer, so ease up on the emails) he was getting ready, and knew what to do as soon as the impact was over. Just as an aside, a life of prayer is better than a panicked, last ditch effort at prayer in the final moments (I wonder if God's prayer email system handles these last minute attempts as spam?).
Anyway, I also make sure the cabin crew sees my Platinum Executive luggage tag, just in case they are profiling passengers.
The guy at church was okay. When he came to, he wanted to drive himself home, we, uh, insisted on driving him home. I have no idea if Scott recovered, but at least we got him out of the foyer so we could help the fallen. Hmmm, get the elders out of the way so we can help the fallen, interesting idea.
Anyway, I hope my flight this afternoon goes smoothly,
Godspeed to the rest of you.
Don
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Newbie
Well, Well, Well. We are going to have a new commander-in-chief. First time in 20 years he won't be named Clinton or Bush (close call on the last comment, but we snapped the dynasty)
Everyone in California is thrilled. I wish I had the licence on the "Obama" tee-shirts, and the number 44. Folks going through security at the airports, headed for Washington, like they were going to visit a new grand baby. Optimism is high, expectations are even higher.
This guy is the new Messiah. I guess we have all reached the mountaintop, we are all looking into the promised land. As the baptist preacher said decades ago, "the arc of morality is long, but it bends toward justice." Hmm.
It is my considered opinion, though, that EVENTS shape our world and not people, certainly not a single person. My concession on this point might be that the combination of events and people shift the world. It is the reaction of people to events that change the way we think.
About now, some of you are jumping on what you would point to as the obvious example of my argument being proven wrong. Am I right?
But consider this, what would the Gospel be if there were no Crucifixion event? You see, the event changed the course of history and time. It shifted the plan and purpose from a people, to a son, to a church. The event, perhaps planned before the beginning of time, changed the world like no other.
This new guy will be judged by the events on his watch. The changes aren't wrapped up in who he is, but in what happens to him, just like the previous 43. It is our job to carefully articulate discernment in the midst of the chaos sure to follow.
Should be an interesting part of our journey.
Godspeed.
Don
Everyone in California is thrilled. I wish I had the licence on the "Obama" tee-shirts, and the number 44. Folks going through security at the airports, headed for Washington, like they were going to visit a new grand baby. Optimism is high, expectations are even higher.
This guy is the new Messiah. I guess we have all reached the mountaintop, we are all looking into the promised land. As the baptist preacher said decades ago, "the arc of morality is long, but it bends toward justice." Hmm.
It is my considered opinion, though, that EVENTS shape our world and not people, certainly not a single person. My concession on this point might be that the combination of events and people shift the world. It is the reaction of people to events that change the way we think.
About now, some of you are jumping on what you would point to as the obvious example of my argument being proven wrong. Am I right?
But consider this, what would the Gospel be if there were no Crucifixion event? You see, the event changed the course of history and time. It shifted the plan and purpose from a people, to a son, to a church. The event, perhaps planned before the beginning of time, changed the world like no other.
This new guy will be judged by the events on his watch. The changes aren't wrapped up in who he is, but in what happens to him, just like the previous 43. It is our job to carefully articulate discernment in the midst of the chaos sure to follow.
Should be an interesting part of our journey.
Godspeed.
Don
Friday, January 16, 2009
Hope for Things Unseen
I hate rebukes, it doesn't help when they are deserved.
This past week I received a rebuke from someone I don't know, but on reflection I deserved it. The encouragement was to be "hopeful" and to spread the message of hope to those who need it, and can understand it. The rebuke was so gentle, perhaps not even meant as a rebuke, but it slammed home anyway.
So this caused me to wonder if I had lost hope, or had it been suppressed by bitterness or anger or simple apathy. I couldn't answer right away because to understand this needed aspect of our journey takes deep, personal reflection. Opening the box to our heart is like opening something left for a long time in the fridge, you don't really know what it is (or was) but you are pretty sure you aren't going to like it....no matter how good it was the first time around.
But I squenched up my nose and popped the lid off and found something interesting. Hope was still alive and well, but was coated with a fine layer of resentment. On further inspection, it was discovered that I had allowed this resentment into the container. When you harbor resentment, you allow others to have control over your life. In other words, they win. I hate that, and I hate that I allowed it to happen. And, truthfully, I'm not all that sure how to get rid of it.
So here is my plan..move on. Do the things that make me spiritually well, be aware of the cynicism that hovers like an odor over the container, throw out the bad stuff, cook up a new meal, serve it with a fine wine of companionship, sit back and bask in the glow of fulfillment.
Then hope will spring eternal, as it always has, and always will.
There is great satisfaction in cleaning out the fridge.
Godspeed
Don
This past week I received a rebuke from someone I don't know, but on reflection I deserved it. The encouragement was to be "hopeful" and to spread the message of hope to those who need it, and can understand it. The rebuke was so gentle, perhaps not even meant as a rebuke, but it slammed home anyway.
So this caused me to wonder if I had lost hope, or had it been suppressed by bitterness or anger or simple apathy. I couldn't answer right away because to understand this needed aspect of our journey takes deep, personal reflection. Opening the box to our heart is like opening something left for a long time in the fridge, you don't really know what it is (or was) but you are pretty sure you aren't going to like it....no matter how good it was the first time around.
But I squenched up my nose and popped the lid off and found something interesting. Hope was still alive and well, but was coated with a fine layer of resentment. On further inspection, it was discovered that I had allowed this resentment into the container. When you harbor resentment, you allow others to have control over your life. In other words, they win. I hate that, and I hate that I allowed it to happen. And, truthfully, I'm not all that sure how to get rid of it.
So here is my plan..move on. Do the things that make me spiritually well, be aware of the cynicism that hovers like an odor over the container, throw out the bad stuff, cook up a new meal, serve it with a fine wine of companionship, sit back and bask in the glow of fulfillment.
Then hope will spring eternal, as it always has, and always will.
There is great satisfaction in cleaning out the fridge.
Godspeed
Don
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Ignorance might be Bliss
I decided to put down a few thoughts as I sit in the DFW airport waiting for my flight. Arrived early, got my Starbucks, then read my daughter's blog. If there is anything more apt to produce a serious amount of angst in a parent than to read and understand one of your chick's heartache and frustration over a chronic illness, I'm not sure I want to know what it is.
20 years ago who would have guessed that I would know, at a deep and personal level the import of words like oral chemo, GIST, stromal tumors, percussion therapy, main-line, and now iron infusions, B-12 maintenance, Gleevac. These are words, and more importantly, life shifters that have moved and shaped all of us in my small world. To be honest, I don't want to know these words. I don't want to have to contemplate the significance of these words. I don't want to have hiding, barely below the surface of my awareness, the panic that the consequences of these words hold in my world.
But deeper than that, I don't want my daughter to have to know them. I want her world to be words of diapers, juice, Jedi, training wheels, knowing letters, potty training. Two vastly different vocabularies living side by side in my daughter's world, one mundane and shared by many, the other terrible and shared by few.
I will say this, it has made me resilient. There are not many fears left to me from the world. The world can fire me from my job, so what? I get another one. Someone at work or church is mad at me, so what? I might get sick, so what? When threatened in any way, why fear? I have seen true bravery in the face of my child. It has made me impervious to the whims of the world in an odd way.
It has also made me more sensitive to those who share this struggle. I know the terror of losing someone, I know the panic of helplessness, I know the stunning silence of prayer in a dark night.
Ignorance of these things would be nice, but then I would not be me. And those around me would not be essentially themselves. Understanding comes on the heels of heartache.
Godspeed,
Don
20 years ago who would have guessed that I would know, at a deep and personal level the import of words like oral chemo, GIST, stromal tumors, percussion therapy, main-line, and now iron infusions, B-12 maintenance, Gleevac. These are words, and more importantly, life shifters that have moved and shaped all of us in my small world. To be honest, I don't want to know these words. I don't want to have to contemplate the significance of these words. I don't want to have hiding, barely below the surface of my awareness, the panic that the consequences of these words hold in my world.
But deeper than that, I don't want my daughter to have to know them. I want her world to be words of diapers, juice, Jedi, training wheels, knowing letters, potty training. Two vastly different vocabularies living side by side in my daughter's world, one mundane and shared by many, the other terrible and shared by few.
I will say this, it has made me resilient. There are not many fears left to me from the world. The world can fire me from my job, so what? I get another one. Someone at work or church is mad at me, so what? I might get sick, so what? When threatened in any way, why fear? I have seen true bravery in the face of my child. It has made me impervious to the whims of the world in an odd way.
It has also made me more sensitive to those who share this struggle. I know the terror of losing someone, I know the panic of helplessness, I know the stunning silence of prayer in a dark night.
Ignorance of these things would be nice, but then I would not be me. And those around me would not be essentially themselves. Understanding comes on the heels of heartache.
Godspeed,
Don
Friday, January 9, 2009
Deadly Force
Sitting again in the Panera Bread (new bagel flavor, read the USA Today in order, even sat at a different table) enjoying my morning and at the next table sits a group of motorcycle cops (CHips.) They are enjoying their morning, sharing complaints, experiences, poking fun at absent coworkers, etc. etc. etc.
As I watched them assemble, they all carried their helmets in, and a small bag of some sort, and they all had the wide patent leather belt with flashlights, pistol clips, and guns. As I drank my coffee and ate my bagel, it occurred to me that this very select group of people carry on their person the ability to take another's life. They, unlike me, can at any moment exercise the power to employ "deadly force." I can't do that. Oh, I guess if I saw someone on a sidewalk and decided to aim my car at them I might get them (see Deer-slayer blog). But just sitting in a restaurant, drinking my coffee, I do not have the resources or the know-how to take another's life.
So here is my question. What is the chip, or restraint that keeps them from utilizing this power at their will? What is it that prevents them from simply seizing the power and exercising their own will? As they continued to visit, it became obvious that some didn't believe in God (why obey someone you can't even see?!? Actual question) They talked about comrades who were being unfaithful to wives and girlfriends, so the moral code did not encompass that portion of their restraint. I'm sure there are the usual misdeeds that we all fall into, the frustration with a convoluted and ineffective legal system, the cynicism about the good in people.
Does the Rule of Law hold that much sway? Doesn't it have to be deeper than that? How do you find people and train them to carry "deadly force" then not use it until there is no other option? What moral grid do you employ to ensure they don't unleash anarchy simply because they had a bad day, or their life seems out of control?
I will tell you this, nothing makes me more polite than a 9mm.
Godspeed.
Don
As I watched them assemble, they all carried their helmets in, and a small bag of some sort, and they all had the wide patent leather belt with flashlights, pistol clips, and guns. As I drank my coffee and ate my bagel, it occurred to me that this very select group of people carry on their person the ability to take another's life. They, unlike me, can at any moment exercise the power to employ "deadly force." I can't do that. Oh, I guess if I saw someone on a sidewalk and decided to aim my car at them I might get them (see Deer-slayer blog). But just sitting in a restaurant, drinking my coffee, I do not have the resources or the know-how to take another's life.
So here is my question. What is the chip, or restraint that keeps them from utilizing this power at their will? What is it that prevents them from simply seizing the power and exercising their own will? As they continued to visit, it became obvious that some didn't believe in God (why obey someone you can't even see?!? Actual question) They talked about comrades who were being unfaithful to wives and girlfriends, so the moral code did not encompass that portion of their restraint. I'm sure there are the usual misdeeds that we all fall into, the frustration with a convoluted and ineffective legal system, the cynicism about the good in people.
Does the Rule of Law hold that much sway? Doesn't it have to be deeper than that? How do you find people and train them to carry "deadly force" then not use it until there is no other option? What moral grid do you employ to ensure they don't unleash anarchy simply because they had a bad day, or their life seems out of control?
I will tell you this, nothing makes me more polite than a 9mm.
Godspeed.
Don
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Time and Again
Have you ever felt like your life was a more serious version of that movie "Groundhog Day" where Murray lives the same day over and over again? Regardless of which decisions you make, it just occurs over and over, and you feel powerless to change it?
The beginning of this year has that feel. I'm sitting in Panera Bread in the city of Angels, again. Ate a sesame seed bagel with a mug of coffee, again. Read the USA today (Sports, Business, Front page, Leisure, in that order) again. Getting ready to go to the office and hash out the same frustrations between sales and production, again. Sigh.
So I'm going to change things up. Yesterday I handed out one of the cards my bride made for me to someone I hardly know. The title slot says "mediator and cultural ethicist." We had a good laugh over the "cultural ethicist" designation. She asked me what it meant, and I asked her what she thought it meant, she seemed a little startled. She said I must be a "slash" guy; VP Sales/mediator/cultural ethicist. Sounds good to me.
I like these conversations because no one knows where they will go. My bride and I made up the designation as a gentle joke at my willingness to comment on the world around us with a moral take. Not everyone is as appreciative of my insight as you would think. Particularly those who seem to be bullying the people I admire. I keep thinking I will just mind my own business, but it just gets under my skin when bully's go unchallenged. Now, mind you, I've gotten my nose bloodied a few times, but it sure drives away the blahs.
So changes will need to be made. Shaking things up a bit might be fun.
I think tomorrow I will have an "everything" bagel, and read the USA Today in the opposite order.
So lets all change something and see what happens.
Godspeed on the new year.
Don
The beginning of this year has that feel. I'm sitting in Panera Bread in the city of Angels, again. Ate a sesame seed bagel with a mug of coffee, again. Read the USA today (Sports, Business, Front page, Leisure, in that order) again. Getting ready to go to the office and hash out the same frustrations between sales and production, again. Sigh.
So I'm going to change things up. Yesterday I handed out one of the cards my bride made for me to someone I hardly know. The title slot says "mediator and cultural ethicist." We had a good laugh over the "cultural ethicist" designation. She asked me what it meant, and I asked her what she thought it meant, she seemed a little startled. She said I must be a "slash" guy; VP Sales/mediator/cultural ethicist. Sounds good to me.
I like these conversations because no one knows where they will go. My bride and I made up the designation as a gentle joke at my willingness to comment on the world around us with a moral take. Not everyone is as appreciative of my insight as you would think. Particularly those who seem to be bullying the people I admire. I keep thinking I will just mind my own business, but it just gets under my skin when bully's go unchallenged. Now, mind you, I've gotten my nose bloodied a few times, but it sure drives away the blahs.
So changes will need to be made. Shaking things up a bit might be fun.
I think tomorrow I will have an "everything" bagel, and read the USA Today in the opposite order.
So lets all change something and see what happens.
Godspeed on the new year.
Don
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