I was chatting with a colleague the other day. We both fly a lot for business and we've had our share of mishaps on the airlines. Lost baggage, 1 hour trips that turned into 8 hour trips, screaming kids....you name it.
Did you ever notice our airline system is totally set up "one way"? The airlines ask us to prove who we are several times. And don't think of going by your middle name on the ticket. It's gotta be the whole name. And what about those people at the security line? Some of them still don't know English. I'm not sure they should even be here. We disrobe to go through security. God forbid you set off the metal detector. At that point your carry-on goes one way and you go the other for some "friendly frisking." Hopefully you and your luggage will re-unite. By the way I need to see your boarding pass.
They ask us questions about what is in our luggage. They rummage through our luggage at will. Did you ever see one of those cards in your bag when you arrived at your destination? It's supposed to make us feel more secure they rooted around in our bag somewhere in the bowels of the airport when you weren't looking. (Another reason Mom was right..always have clean underwear.) Somehow I just feel violated.
I know it's just a sign of our times. But why do we have to do all the trusting? I don't know these people checking me or my luggage. Much less the neanderthal downstairs putting his grubby hands all over my clothes checking for a rogue fingernail clipper, and a can of hairspray.
But if I'm going to fly..... this is my walk to work everyday!`We live by this system everyday day-in and day-out simply place all my earthly gathrings togetheer; and let a stange person runmmage through them.
Sometimes it's just plain easier to drive.
Friday, April 22, 2005
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Cat Scratch Fever
We have two cats. One is quite the lover existing to jump in your lap and spend quality time; the other bristles at the notion we are in charge and not him. He lets us live with him.
My seven-year-old daughter just can’t help herself. She is on a life-quest to make the disinterested cat her friend and playmate. Of course, he isn’t interested. In fact, when he hears her coming he panics and runs to his best hiding place possible.
Not too long ago while I was away on business, my daughter screamed out one of those earth-shattering screams. She came running to my wife, Faith, with her hand dripping in blood. As Faith cleaned the wound she noticed it was quite deep. When asked how the cut occured a brief explanation was given about how she had cut it on the corner of a piece of furniture. Hours later I returned home. She replayed the dramatic events of the day the way only a drama queen daughter can to her father. I was attentive and tried to console her that it would heal and leave no lasting scar.
Then I asked how the cut had become to be. Sheepishly she confessed the cat had bit her while she was trying to play with him. Realizing she had told me another story than her mother eight hours before…her conscience began to bother her. Time for damage control! She immediately confessed to the lie admitting she knew she wasn’t supposed to hold the cat hostage in her room.
The next morning after church Faith discovered the cut was looking very bad…Red, inflamed and quite painful. A very bad infection had set in. So off to the minor emergency “you’re really going to pay for this” center. A shot in the hip and an aggressive round of antibiotics was given. More pain, more drama, more tears. If she had only confessed the truth to her mother; Faith would have aggressively cleaned out the wound much more thoroughly. A little hydrogen peroxide would have probably made the difference. This was going to take much longer.
We do the same thing. I make mistakes all the time. We hide them from the Father thinking we can take care of it all ourselves. We don’t want to admit we knew we were doing wrong in the first place. Why? It’s not as if we’re getting away with it. That’s for sure. Pulling the wool over God’s eyes never works.
So what happens? We carry it around for days, weeks, months or years letting it fester into some sort of spiritual infection. The pain of carrying it around is harder and more painful than the wound itself. The fever has set in.
It’s so much easier to take it to the cross, admit we screwed up, and ask for forgiveness right away. Then the healing can begin. But not until we do so and let God’s healing salve remove all the infectious properties.
We were not concerned with our daughter making a mistake as much as not coming to us in truth so we could make sure her wound was properly cleansed. Forgiveness from the Father is always available and it’s not contingent on what we do. It just is.
By the way, my daughter survived but the cat is still nervous and very disinterested. Cat scratch fever has passed.
My seven-year-old daughter just can’t help herself. She is on a life-quest to make the disinterested cat her friend and playmate. Of course, he isn’t interested. In fact, when he hears her coming he panics and runs to his best hiding place possible.
Not too long ago while I was away on business, my daughter screamed out one of those earth-shattering screams. She came running to my wife, Faith, with her hand dripping in blood. As Faith cleaned the wound she noticed it was quite deep. When asked how the cut occured a brief explanation was given about how she had cut it on the corner of a piece of furniture. Hours later I returned home. She replayed the dramatic events of the day the way only a drama queen daughter can to her father. I was attentive and tried to console her that it would heal and leave no lasting scar.
Then I asked how the cut had become to be. Sheepishly she confessed the cat had bit her while she was trying to play with him. Realizing she had told me another story than her mother eight hours before…her conscience began to bother her. Time for damage control! She immediately confessed to the lie admitting she knew she wasn’t supposed to hold the cat hostage in her room.
The next morning after church Faith discovered the cut was looking very bad…Red, inflamed and quite painful. A very bad infection had set in. So off to the minor emergency “you’re really going to pay for this” center. A shot in the hip and an aggressive round of antibiotics was given. More pain, more drama, more tears. If she had only confessed the truth to her mother; Faith would have aggressively cleaned out the wound much more thoroughly. A little hydrogen peroxide would have probably made the difference. This was going to take much longer.
We do the same thing. I make mistakes all the time. We hide them from the Father thinking we can take care of it all ourselves. We don’t want to admit we knew we were doing wrong in the first place. Why? It’s not as if we’re getting away with it. That’s for sure. Pulling the wool over God’s eyes never works.
So what happens? We carry it around for days, weeks, months or years letting it fester into some sort of spiritual infection. The pain of carrying it around is harder and more painful than the wound itself. The fever has set in.
It’s so much easier to take it to the cross, admit we screwed up, and ask for forgiveness right away. Then the healing can begin. But not until we do so and let God’s healing salve remove all the infectious properties.
We were not concerned with our daughter making a mistake as much as not coming to us in truth so we could make sure her wound was properly cleansed. Forgiveness from the Father is always available and it’s not contingent on what we do. It just is.
By the way, my daughter survived but the cat is still nervous and very disinterested. Cat scratch fever has passed.
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
Mysteries Among Us
Recently I was discussing childhoods with a family friend. There was a group of us and we were discussing different things about where we grew up, our families, how goofy we looked (okay maybe how goofy I looked) etc... It was in the middle of this conversation I found out startling information about one of our group.
She was from a broken home. Not one that split amicably either. In fact it escalated to the point her mother kidnapped the children and lived on the run. They would dye their hair and change their names. The father would get close and then they were off to another state to live another life. Wow, I was stunned. I never expected to hear that coming from her. She was the last person I would have suspected to have lived such a life. But here she was in my kitchen re-telling her story.
For days I could not get her story out of my head. Not just the details of a life on-the-run but how I really didn't know her at all. Somehow I think we are all closer now. Sharing your life experiences can do that.
How well do you know those people you see everyday? Your friends? Your spouse? I bet there are a lot more stories that haven't been told than we'll ever know. And they're playing out right before our eyes...just behind a thin veil of secrecy. Those walls that we build mentally and emotionally for protection keep us from those who love us best knowing us completely.
And that's what we all really want isn't it? Acceptance...friendship...love. C'mon, tear down those walls and let somone know you better. You probably won't end up on the Jerry Springer Show!
Get to know those people God has put in your life... they might just be a mystery among us.
She was from a broken home. Not one that split amicably either. In fact it escalated to the point her mother kidnapped the children and lived on the run. They would dye their hair and change their names. The father would get close and then they were off to another state to live another life. Wow, I was stunned. I never expected to hear that coming from her. She was the last person I would have suspected to have lived such a life. But here she was in my kitchen re-telling her story.
For days I could not get her story out of my head. Not just the details of a life on-the-run but how I really didn't know her at all. Somehow I think we are all closer now. Sharing your life experiences can do that.
How well do you know those people you see everyday? Your friends? Your spouse? I bet there are a lot more stories that haven't been told than we'll ever know. And they're playing out right before our eyes...just behind a thin veil of secrecy. Those walls that we build mentally and emotionally for protection keep us from those who love us best knowing us completely.
And that's what we all really want isn't it? Acceptance...friendship...love. C'mon, tear down those walls and let somone know you better. You probably won't end up on the Jerry Springer Show!
Get to know those people God has put in your life... they might just be a mystery among us.
Friday, April 08, 2005
The Paper Chase
I don't get it.
In my high school there were no such things as calculators. Computers were the size of mobile homes. And vinyl was the only real form of music...an album. I was pretty forward thinking with the addition of new technology in my car: an 8-track. Very cool. Those days are gone.
I asked one of my kids the other day to figure out how many miles per gallon we got on our last tank of gasoline. We were on a short vacation and I wanted to know the mileage my SUV was getting. It was the "Dad" kind of thing to do. In fact, I remember my dad pulling out a piece of paper and figuring up how many miles per gallon we were getting in his new 1966 Chevy pickup. Did you get that? P.A.P.E.R. Unheard of nowadays...
Well, my brilliant child instantly whipped out a cell phone to access the calculator feature. I was stunned. "That's cheating" I said. "Figure it out on paper, this will be a good life-lesson for you". Groans ensued we had a nice little chat about it. He finally figured it out and I was satisfied. But it got me thinking...
8-track - cassette - CD - mp3 - Ipod - cell phone - camera phone, etc. I was part of them all. In fact, I was tech junkie. I love the stuff. We neeeed the stuff. But it's driving me crazy.
I had an organizer, I had a Palm Pilot. What do I use now? A notebook.
I have one of the latest camera phones. My complaint? It's not loud enough...I'd trade it for a phone I can hear in a restaurant.
I can afford to buy a new luxury car. I paid the one I had off instead.
I could buy a bigger house. All I want to do is pay this one off before I'm 65.
Email on a Blackberry? Nah, too fat to carry in my pocket.
and the list goes on...
Gee...I sound like my father. I remember when designer jeans first came out several decades ago. My dad commented: "If I'm going to pay that much for a pair of jeans, It's going to have MY name on them, not Calvin Klein's."
I laughed then. Now, I agree. Incredibly insightful.
Enjoy all the new things we have in life... but never lose sight of common sense, spending too much money on things you didn't know you needed, and paper.
Sometimes simpler is just plain better. No matter how cool it is.
Does anyone know where my tablet PC is? Forget it...I'll just use the original version.
In my high school there were no such things as calculators. Computers were the size of mobile homes. And vinyl was the only real form of music...an album. I was pretty forward thinking with the addition of new technology in my car: an 8-track. Very cool. Those days are gone.
I asked one of my kids the other day to figure out how many miles per gallon we got on our last tank of gasoline. We were on a short vacation and I wanted to know the mileage my SUV was getting. It was the "Dad" kind of thing to do. In fact, I remember my dad pulling out a piece of paper and figuring up how many miles per gallon we were getting in his new 1966 Chevy pickup. Did you get that? P.A.P.E.R. Unheard of nowadays...
Well, my brilliant child instantly whipped out a cell phone to access the calculator feature. I was stunned. "That's cheating" I said. "Figure it out on paper, this will be a good life-lesson for you". Groans ensued we had a nice little chat about it. He finally figured it out and I was satisfied. But it got me thinking...
8-track - cassette - CD - mp3 - Ipod - cell phone - camera phone, etc. I was part of them all. In fact, I was tech junkie. I love the stuff. We neeeed the stuff. But it's driving me crazy.
I had an organizer, I had a Palm Pilot. What do I use now? A notebook.
I have one of the latest camera phones. My complaint? It's not loud enough...I'd trade it for a phone I can hear in a restaurant.
I can afford to buy a new luxury car. I paid the one I had off instead.
I could buy a bigger house. All I want to do is pay this one off before I'm 65.
Email on a Blackberry? Nah, too fat to carry in my pocket.
and the list goes on...
Gee...I sound like my father. I remember when designer jeans first came out several decades ago. My dad commented: "If I'm going to pay that much for a pair of jeans, It's going to have MY name on them, not Calvin Klein's."
I laughed then. Now, I agree. Incredibly insightful.
Enjoy all the new things we have in life... but never lose sight of common sense, spending too much money on things you didn't know you needed, and paper.
Sometimes simpler is just plain better. No matter how cool it is.
Does anyone know where my tablet PC is? Forget it...I'll just use the original version.
Runaway Jury
Okay, I admit it.When I received a summons for jury duty I groaned. This was not working into my busy schedule. In fact, it could not have come at a worse time. Reluctantly I appeared downtown at the courthouse at the appointed time to try and not get picked.Out of several hundred people present I thought I had a great chance of getting out before noon and back to my own schedule. But I got called.Then about 35 of us left for the courtroom to be grilled by lawyers for the case to see who would be eliminated. This was my chance! Great ideas came to me as to what I could say to eliminate myself from the running. But...they were lies and I couldn't bring myself to do it. I still had a good chance to be passed over. I was juror number 22. Hey, they only needed 12!You know what happened..I was selected as juror #8 on the panel of 12. I was about to go ballistic when I realized the honor I had to be able to serve on a jury...after all that's the essence of America's judicial system. It's what we were all about.... I still didn't want to be there.Three days later we were done. Twelve citizens had appropriately passed a verdict on a case. I met some great people and left almost a little sad it was all over. It felt good to have been a part of our judicial system. And yes, I did feel pretty guilty I wanted out of it so badly.So when you're called the next time for jury duty I encourage you to buck up and do your civic duty. It beats the heck out of living in a country where there is no democracy run by a Saddam Hussein-type leader.Hey, I'm $6 a day richer too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)