Monday, September 1, 2008
Help! I’m Taking Care of a Six Year Old!
About a month ago I asked my daughter if it would be ok if I took Noah with me back to my mom’s for the weekend (about a 200 mile trip to her lake home in western Minnesota).
I am 53.
My grandson is 6.
“Sure,” she said, “He would like that.”
I picked him up at about 10:00 AM on Friday and promised to have him back at about 4:00 PM on Sunday. That’s about 54 hours; I figured I ought to be able to survive that.
Before I left my wife gave me some very explicit instructions. Like, “Make sure you don’t lose Noah!” And “If he’s down by the water make sure he has his lifejacket on!” And this, “Make sure you put plenty of sunscreen on him.” And this reminder, “Make sure you feed him!” Now like I’m gonna forget that. And finally this, “Remember, he’s a six year old!”
We made the trip there in about 5 hours. Noah brought along his portable DVD player. Wow, are those cool…it’s like having a Nanny riding along with you. As I was driving my S-10 Pickup, he pretty much just watched a couple of movies on the way there. When I glanced at him watching the video I began to wonder. I wondered how, when our kids were young, we ever made it across the Dakotas in the old 63 Plymo Limo Belvedere with no radio, no tape player, no seat belts, no air conditioning, no air bags and a steel dashboard.
Anyway, back to the trip.
When we got there Friday the weather was a little cool but I took him for a ride on my brother’s jet ski. I cranked the throttle wide open on a calm portion of the lake and we were suddenly thrust backward with about 4G’s of force. Noah hollered, “Wow! That’s why they call it a JET ski!”
A long time ago Charles Dickens wrote a novel titled “A Tale of Two Cities.” He began the novel by saying, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” That summed up Saturday.
About 11:00 we went to play miniature golf and then we went go-carting. That was the best of times.
Around 2:00 Noah began to get sick, he slept a couple of hours and then got really sick about 5:00. That was the worst of times.
About 7:00 he began feeling better and we went for a long jet ski ride. It was a gorgeous evening. That was the best of times.
After the jet ski ride he fished for a few minutes off the end of the dock. He was dressed in shorts, sandals, t-shirt, sweatshirt and a lifejacket. When he went to get the worms and bring them to me he fell off the dock and was soaked. That was the worst of times.
I dried him off, had him put his pajamas on and got him a bowl of ice-cream. That was the best of times.
When I came back into the bedroom I couldn’t figure out why there was a white flakey substance all over the bed. And in his hair. The ceiling slopes in that bedroom, and yep, you figured it out. He started jumping on the bed and must have smacked his head pretty hard against the ceiling to knock loose all that white ceiling texture. I asked him if it hurt. He said, “Yep Grampa, it did.” That was the worst of times.
He played some computer games on my laptop and then we went to bed. That was the best of times.
The next day we left my mom’s about 11:00 and made it back in plenty of time
I thought about the checklist my wife had given me:
#1...Don’t lose Noah! Mission accomplished.
#2...Make sure he has his lifejacket on! Mission accomplished. And good thing – when he fell off the dock he floated just like the styrofoam container the worms were in.
#3...Put plenty of sunscreen on him! Mission accomplished.
#4...Make sure you feed him! Mission accomplished. My mom’s cooking, especially her pancakes, did the trick.
#5...Remember he’s a six year old. I remembered.
I also remembered I’m 53.
Note to self: to prepare yourself for next year’s adventure, first…go through Navy Seals Training.
Dan Vander Ark Copyright 2008
All Rights Reserved
Oh Two Sensors, A Kitty-Litter Converter, and Other Mysteries About My Wife’s Car
My wife’s car isn’t quite a lemon, but it’s close. Whatever fruit comes just before lemon in the “how reliable is your car?” fruit rating system, that’s where our car is at (kumquat maybe?) In fact, it seems abnormal NOT to have the check engine light on. We have replaced the crank sensor, 3 coil packs, one head gasket, the wheels (not the tires, but the WHEELS), and a multitude of other million dollar parts. When the head gasket started going bad I tried to sell the car to one of my coworkers, but he didn’t bite. I told him it didn’t really run that bad – all you had to do was replace the number 3 sparkplug each morning and then you were good for the day! I even said I would throw in some spark plugs, but for whatever reason, he didn’t want to buy it.
So this past week when the check engine light came on just four days after having it “fixed” (and I use the term “fixed” in the loosest possible meaning of the word), I again had to contact the mechanic. His response? “Take two aspirin and call me in the morning.” Not really, he’s a very good mechanic, but he just can’t figure out why I should be having so much trouble with this make and model of car. “I have never heard of this happening before” is a common expression he uses whenever I tell him about the newest car problem.
But this time I decided to first try one other thing before I took it to the mechanic. I knew that the local auto parts store loaned out tools so I thought maybe they would loan out one of those mysterious Auto DaVinci Code readers (you know…one of those little hand-held “check engine light” gadgets). And perhaps they would also help me interpret the code. So I asked if they loaned them out for normal citizens to use. They didn’t but one of their employees would gladly hook it up and read the code out in the parking lot (and help decipher it).
And all this for free! I will have the “check engine light” code read for less than the cost of the car itself.
So out she came with the magical instrument to read the check engine light code. And I guess it’s not really a “Check Engine NOW” light.” When mine comes on it simply says this, “Service Engine Soon.” And I have to confess – I see it more as a suggestion light rather than a warning light. If it really was a warning light, wouldn’t it shout out in big bold red letters something like, “HEY! ARE YOU AN AMOEBA? GET TO THE MECHANIC NOW! Instead, it’s just sort of a warm and friendly sunset golden color light that softly whispers in a Minnesota nice tone, “I know you’re having a hard day, but maybe you should think about taking your car in to your mechanic whenever it fits into your schedule.” And another thing…how do you interpret “soon?” Is that “soon” as in “Your Engine is going to Explode in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 KABOOM!” soon? Or “soon” as in “The Minnesota Vikings are going to win the Super Bowl soon!” soon? (Meaning your car will have long since returned to iron ore before you have to worry about it).
She plugged it in, and under her instructions I turned the ignition to “ON.”
I thought I heard her say, “Oh my, Oh dear! Whoa…I’ve never seen that before!”
I quickly stepped out of the car to look. “What? Never seen what?”
It was probably just the glare of the sun but I thought I saw the screen say “EVERYTHING NEEDS TO BE REPLACED! With the picture of lemon next to it.
“Aha! Its saying your O2 Sensors are bad.”
“Oh, Two Sensors? I have two sensors for what?” I asked
“Not “Oh-Two” sensors,” she replied, “O2 sensors – oxygen sensors.”
Now I was starting to think, “What do I have oxygen sensors for? Like when I go through Beartooth Pass in Montana or Wyoming or wherever that mountain pass is located…it senses the lack of air and O2 masks will drop down from the head liner?”
She continued, “I think you have one in the engine compartment and one underneath by the kitty-litter converter.” Now I am like totally befuddled. My car converts kitty litter to energy? No wonder the Japanese have moved ahead of Ford and GM. But I later learned it’s not a kitty-litter converter, it’s a catalytic converter. Sometimes I don’t hear so good. Like all these decades I thought Julie Andrews in the movie "Mary Poppins" was singing, “Super calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.” I just recently learned IT’S NOT LIKE THAT AT ALL! I always wondered why she would be singing about a bitter and brittle old wiseman that had bad breath.
“You have one in the engine compartment and one under the car, and this first one is saying that your left bank is lean?”
Now I am somewhat overweight according to the governmental standards, but I NEVER thought it was causing my car to lean.
“And,” she continued, “Your right bank is also lean.”
Lean to the left, Lean to the right, stand up, sit down, my car ain’t right!”
She then asked if I wanted the SERVICE ENGINE SOON light cleared out so it would turn off.
“You can just clear it out without me having it fixed? I asked in an astonished tone.
“Yep,” she replied.
I wanted to hug her.
“Yes!!! By all means…Clear it out!”
Because I prefer denial over reality, I just put a piece of duct tape over the SERVICE ENGINE SOON message board area. I am guessing the light is on. And I guess I will service the engine soon…as soon as the Vikings win the Super Bowl.
Dan Vander Ark Copyright 2008
All Rights Reserved
Gutter Blaster
I made a trip to my local home improvement store the other day to try to improve my home. While I was there buying cool stuff I will never use, I saw something on sale that I thought might actually come in handy. And it was only $3.00. It was a “Gutter Blaster.”
Now I don’t know about you, but I’m kind of finicky the way my yard looks. If even a single blade of grass so much as looks like its going to get out of place I am there to trim it. Sometimes me-thinks the neighbors just roll there eyes over my finickiness. And I especially don’t want stuff growing in my gutters!
Anyway some of the gutters are really high off the ground so it’s hard to get at them. So when I saw the gutter blaster I thought to myself, “Someone else on the planet must be sick of trying to get to really high gutters to clean out all the junk in them.”
When I got home I hurriedly opened the box to get a first hand look at the “Blaster.” My heart sank a little as it was in about 3 pieces – I had to put it together. I stuck the aluminum part A with the down spout blaster nozzle into part C, only to realize I had forgotten part B so I stuck that on (who needs directions), and then hurriedly hooked it to the hose. (Oh, by the way, at another local home improvement store I was looking at hoses and wanted a really nice one and saw a couple that said, “Professional Garden Hose.” I came really close to asking the clerk if they had any “Amateur Garden Hoses”.)
With the blaster in hand I headed to the first gutter – the low lying ones on the garage to test it out.
I flipped the little lever thingy to turn the water on full throttle and, ummmm, (I am searching for words right here.) Well I guess all I can say is, “WOW!!!” Doouble WWOOWW!! My arm almost wound up in my neighbors yard!!! That thing had enough pressure to pulverize granite! If you aren’t careful it will almost peal the gutters OFF FROM THE HOUSE!
Against all of my manly instincts, I raced back to the house and read the directions. And they said this under the section called “Safety and Maintenance”: DON’T TURN THE WATER LINE ON TO FULL PRESSURE THE FIRST TIME YOU USE YOUR GUTTER BLASTER!” I am totally serious; I am not making that up. And it also said this (again under safety and maintenance): Do not point the nozzle toward any living creature!” I can see why. I wonder if the Army knows about this thing.
So I went back to my gutter blasting (making sure to use both arms while leaning into the gutter to offset the blast pressure) and got those gutters so clean you could almost eat off from them.
But here’s the real kicker. At the bottom of the directions (again I am not making this up) it says this: “Your gutter junk blaster and HANGING PLANTS WATER SPRINKLER!”
Hanging plants water sprinkler? I can just see it now. You take your gutter blaster out to your wife’s hanging plants on the deck and turn it on. With dirt and debris flying everywhere and green stuff whizzing by at the speed of sound like its being shot out of salad shooter, your wife asks (in the cool, calm and collected voice of a basic training drill sergeant), “WHAT ARE YOU DOING VANDER-ARK??? WHY ARE YOU DESTROYING MY PLANTS!!!!”????
And your answer?
“Oh hi honey, I’m just following the directions…”
Dan Vander Ark Copyright 2008
All Rights Reserved
Tear Bottles
Does God care about your problems?
There’s a very interesting verse in the middle of Psalm 56 that indicates that He does, and in a much closer and more passionate way than you and I may think. Psalm 56:8 says this, “Thou hast taken account of my wanderings; put my tears in Thy bottle; are they not in Thy book?”
This Psalm is a recounting by King David of a very stressful time in his life when he had been wrongly accused and found himself to be a fugitive in his own country (remember the TV series and the movie remake “The Fugitive” in which Dr. Richard Kimble was wrongly accused of murdering his wife and had to flee for his life?). David was innocent and was trying to stay one step ahead of the “Law” (King Saul). He was fleeing for his life and even sought shelter in remote caves.
Afterward, when David thought about what he had gone through, he wrote, “Thou hast taken account of my wanderings…” The New Living Translation puts it this way, “You keep track of all my sorrows.” And the version of the Bible called The Message puts it this way, “You've kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights.” You (God) are profoundly concerned about me as I am driven from one place to another. Adam Clarke paraphrases it this way, “I am hunted everywhere; but You number all my hiding-places, and see how often I am in danger of losing my life.”
Then David continues in this verse by making this remarkable statement, “Put my tears in Thy bottle, are they not in Thy book?” The New Living Translation says, “You have collected all my tears in Your bottle. You have recorded each one in Your book.” And The Message says this, “Each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book.”
What was David referring to and what did he mean when he said, “You put my tears in Your bottle?”
To best describe what this portion of verse 8 is saying let me quote from a commentary called Barnes Notes. Albert Barnes says this, “It is possible, and, indeed, it seems probable, that there is an allusion here to the custom of collecting tears shed in a time of calamity and sorrow, and preserving them in a small bottle or "lachrymatory" as a memorial of the grief. (A “lachrymatory” was a very small bottle, like a perfume bottle, sometimes made out of simple clay and sometimes made out of agate or other precious stone.) The Romans had a custom, that in a time of mourning (for instance, on a funeral occasion) a friend went to one in sorrow, and wiped away the tears from the eyes with a piece of cloth, and squeezed the tears into a small bottle of glass or earth, which was carefully preserved as a memorial of friendship and sorrow…these lachrymatories are still found in great numbers on opening ancient tombs. A sepulchre lately discovered in one of the gardens of our city had scores of them in it. They are made of thin glass, or more generally of simple pottery, often not even baked or glazed, with a slender body, a broad bottom, and a funnel-shaped top. They have nothing in them but dust at present.”
So to sum up this short passage, when David had time to reflect about that period in his life when he was literally one step ahead of death, he said essentially this, “God you care so deeply for me that You literally have taken account of every single one of my tears. And you not only notice them, but you also treasure them up Your divine Tear Bottle and record them in Your book!”
God notices, treasures, and records your tears!
There is a verse in Revelation that amplifies this astonishing love and care. The last part of Revelation 7:17 says this, “…God shall wipe away every tear from their eyes.”
Does God care about your problems? The answer is absolutely YES!
You may at times feel like you are being hounded and harassed by problem after problem. Or maybe your heart has been broken through the loss of a loved one. Or it may seem that there is no way out of your financial predicament. Or perhaps you are having difficulty in your marriage or other family relationships.
God cares for you!
There is a God that notes every single one of your tears. Pour out your heart before Him today, take all of your cares and concerns to Him and watch Him answer in remarkable ways.
Dan Vander Ark
Copyright 2008
All Rights Reserved
Things I Think Are Funny
Back in the last millennium a former coworker and I got into an argument about whether hot water or cold water made ice cubes faster. She had heard (and so did I but I didn’t tell her that) that hot water in ice cube trays turns into ice faster than cold water in ice cube trays. I think the article was in Reader’s Digest, so it had to be true. We made a bet. Out in the warehouse was a refrigerator with a small freezer on top. I filled my tray with cold water, Jane filled hers with steaming hot water and we put them in the freezer. I think we decided to give it 3 hours and then check on the trays. She worked in the office and I worked in the warehouse. After about 2 hours and 50 minutes I took her tray out, snuck it into the bathroom and filled it up with really hot water and put it back in the freezer. At the 3 hour mark we went together and checked the trays. I think mine actually started to ice over, but the water in hers was still hot! And steam was rolling off her tray. She sort of shrugged her shoulders and said something like, “Well I guess it doesn’t work.” Her faith in Reader’s Digest was shattered. I didn’t tell her what I had done and just said with a straight face, “Yep.” She went back into the office, but only moments later she yelled, “DAN!” Someone told her what I had done. I thought that was funny.
I think it would be funny to mow the lawn in the winter – maybe right after the first snowfall of about 6” of fluffy snow. Our house is on a busy residential street with a yard only 29 feet wide. Just crank up the mower and watch the snow fly! And then rake it when you’re done…that would be funny. Once we did see a guy after a snowstorm clearing the sidewalk with his snowblower while just wearing shorts. That was funny. Only in Duluth.
When we were fishing on the Bloodvein River in Canada my brothers and I thought it would be funny to put on bear suits and sit on the river bank in lawn chairs with fishing poles and wave at any boats that went by. We would have to be prepared to run like crazy though in case anybody wanted to shoot at us. And I think it would be funny to drive around town in a gorilla suit and wave at people. That would be funny.
My friend at work thought it would be funny to replace my hand lotion with Elmer’s Glue. I couldn’t figure out why my hands were so sticky when I went to use the hand lotion. Another coworker happened to walk by just as this was happening. She said the look on my face was priceless. She was the same coworker that usually parked crooked in the parking lot at work. So me and the Elmer’s Glue Coworker (henceforth known as “GlueMan”) went down to the print shop, asked them to cut some long strips of yellow paper for portable parking lines. We went out into the parking lot and just rolled out the parking lines right where she was crookedly parked. We gave them to her so she could just park whichever way she wanted wherever she wanted – all she had to do was just park and roll out the lines. We thought that was funny. Although I hesitated telling this as I have noticed how crooked I park.
My wife and I went to a rummage sale the other day. There was an old wooden kitchen chair that was priced at 25 cents. I asked if they would take 24 cents. I thought that was funny, and so did the rummage owner. I bought the chair for the full quarter.
I saw a young woman at the mall going up the up escalator (dah) while talking on her cell phone. We were going down the down escalator. I thought it would be funny if I had her cell number, called her and said, “Hey, I see you’re moving up in the world!”
I think it would be funny to have one of those big old Army walkie-talkies from WWII (you’ve seen them – they’re about as big as a horses leg), go walking down the sidewalk in our busy residential area, and talk on it just like a normal cell phone. That would be funny. Or hang an old rotary desk phone from your waist and use the handset just like the cell phone. That might be funny too.
Oh…and you know when your plane lands at the airport and then comes the moment when you can use your cell phone again? With 99% of the people calling home, calling their friends, calling the people waiting for them in the airport, or calling Mars, I think it would be funny to call someone, anyone, and say, “Oh hi kids how’s it going?......(and then really loud) WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE ELEPHANT GOT OUT AGAIN??? GO GET HIM AND PUT HIM BACK IN THE BASEMENT RIGHT NOW!” Then hang up, shake your head, and just mumble “Teenagers!” to the person next to you.
Somewhere in the 1960’s my dad thought it would be funny to, as a publicity stunt for radio station WJON, announce that an elderly lady would be learning how to water ski at Lake George (a really really REALLY small lake in the middle of St. Cloud, I think less than 700 ft by 700 ft). An excellent water skier, my dad dressed up as the elderly lady and “pretended” to learn how to water ski! We thought that was funny.
Back in about 1993, Gary (the maintenance guy) wanted to play a joke on Randy (the warehouse truck driver guy). We meticulously planned it out so that when Randy came to pick up supplies to go back from the clinic to the warehouse, that Gary would hide inside a rather large box on a flatbed cart. And with Randy rolling the cart out of the storage room and toward the dock, when Gary felt the cart hit the little bump where the tile ended and the carpeting began, that was his clue to leap out of the box and scare Randy. A whole bunch of people knew what we were planning and just “happened” to be sort of standing around when Randy showed up. After chatting for a few moments Randy took “THE CART”, and began to push it out the door. Inside-the-box-Gary could not have timed it better. He leaped up and scared Randy half to death – maybe even ¾’s to death. Randy flew backwards a good 10 feet, landed on a pile of laundry or supplies and grabbed his chest! When we realized he was NOT having a heart attack we laughed and laughed. We all thought that was funny.
About five years ago my former boss and GlueMan conspired against me. Just as I was beginning to teach a class on how to use the materials management software system, they did something that caused me to have what I believe to be an out of body experience. Just minutes before the class began, the boss and GlueMan phoned me to let me know that my job was getting advertised in the paper (they emailed me the ad) and that I would have to reapply for it! With my body in front of the class mumbling stuff about how to order syringes correctly, the lighter-than-helium-inner-part of me floated above the classroom trying to figure out how they could possibly do this to me! (While I was up there I also noticed how bald I was getting.) I was furious! After the class I floated back down and rejoined my 48 year old body. I immediately phoned GlueMan and told him to tell the boss we were going to have a meeting ASAP. He then informed me it was just a joke. My helium self was still sort of disconnected from my balding self and I just hung up the phone. Now however, we all really laugh about that. That was funny.
Just the other day I received a call from a nurse in one of the units at the hospital – she needed to order a special commode for a patient. After she gave me the basic information, I needed to verify the manufacturer’s number that she had given me so that I had all of my ducks in a row when I called the vendor (over the phone the person may be saying “that’s part number BMGT,” and you may be writing down “DNPE” so you have to read the part number back to them to verify). Nurse Diane gave me the part number of TFI-3225. It was a busy morning and a bunch of stuff was on my mind, so when I repeated it back to her I was looking at the first letter but my brain (which is usually attached to my eyes by way of the optic nerve) was already on the second letter. So I said, “So that’s “T” as in “Frank”….???” There was sort of a pause, and then I realized what I had just asked. It took everything for me to not laugh out loud and continue my professional, although disconnected with the alphabet, reality. I just kept on going like I hadn’t said anything stupid and verified the rest of the information. That was funny.
A while back someone in the building where I work discovered that her cheese cake had been stolen out of the fridge. She fired off an email to the entire building (more than a hundred people) about the impropriety of permanently borrowing other people’s food. You could tell she was angry because everything was in capital letters and the grammar and punctuation were all mangled. My email reply went something like this, “If you ever want to see your cheesecake again, please leave a dollar in an unmarked bag out by the picnic table…” I thought that was funny. And no, I didn’t take the cheesecake.
And finally, this. I overheard a coworker make this statement the other day, ““My family isn’t known for good looking toes.” I thought that statement was hilarious (okay, maybe you had to be there). So three of us began telling, “My toe story is more horrible than your toe story!” stories. When I got back to my cube I emailed the coworker whose family is not known for good looking toes and said, “Our conversation almost sounded like that scene in Jaws where the cranky fisherman guy Quint and Richard Dreyfuss Hooper start comparing scars.” I told her that sometime I may write an article titled, “My Family isn’t Known for Good Looking Toes and other Funny Things at Work.”
I guess this is it.
Dan Vander Ark
Copyright 2008
All Rights Reserved
I’m Not an Amateur-Crastinator, I’m a Pro-Crastinator
“What are you doing, Honey?” I asked my wife one evening.
“Making my lunch for tomorrow,” she replied.
“Making your lunch for tomorrow, why?” I asked. “Its 14 hours before you have to be to work…why not wait till 7:25 tomorrow morning, like me?”
My name is Dan -- and I am a procrastinator.
When I was in college I usually started my term papers the night before they were due and then stayed up all night to type them (usually by sitting in the bathtub with a board across the tub for the typewriter to sit on. Seriously, I’m not making that up…I didn’t want to keep my wife and daughters awake. And of course I had my clothes on). A friend named Lee had his done a couple weeks before they were due. How he did that I will never know.
I have discovered that I put off doing a lot of stuff:
Taxes
Packing for a trip
Filling the car up with gas
Going through the mail
Shoveling snow
Filling out reports
Christmas shopping
Some guys do their Christmas shopping for their wives at about 2:00 on Christmas Eve. I told a friend one time that I was different from all of them – I PLAN to do my shopping at 2:00 on Christmas Eve.
I put off going to the dentist, doing my exercises, raking the yard, even writing this article.
A while back I was reading through the Gospel of Mark and one word seemed to keep popping up. It was the word “immediately.” In the Greek it’s the adverb “euthus.” It’s used 53 times in the NT, but 39 of those are found in Mark! So that’s just 14 times for the remaining 26 books of the NT. And the word appears 11 times in chapter one alone.
Immediately, immediately, immediately. When I saw that, it spoke to my heart about the fact that not only was Jesus’ life filled with a sense of mission, but there was also a tremendous sense of urgency to that mission.
The dictionary defines procrastination this way:
1) To defer action, delay until an opportunity is lost
2) To put off till another day or time
3) To put off doing something, especially out of habitual carelessness or laziness
4) To postpone or delay needlessly
Habitual laziness? That can’t possibly be the reason why I defer, dally, dawdle, delay, and drag my feet! You mean at the root of me being Procrastinator Extraordinaire is laziness? That can’t possibly be true.
But there simply are some things though that you CANNOT put off.
Like:
Saying “I love you” to your wife each day. I bet some of the husbands in the Twin Towers on 9/11 wished they had said, “Honey I just want you to know I love you” before they left the house that ill-fated morning.
Hugging your kids (and your grandkids).
Calling your mom.
Calling your dad.
Giving your heart to Jesus. A teenage boy named Teddy mowed the church lawn where I used to be the pastor. He was about 16 and was such a nice kid. But late one Saturday I received a heart-rending phone call. Teddy was driving his car down highway B but when he went to cross the four lane highway, he never made it. Paul said in II Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the day of salvation.” You may think you have tomorrow, but you don’t.
“To delay until an opportunity is lost.” That should sober us up a little bit concerning the precious commodity of “time.” Your life can change forever in just a moment. Don’t delay, defer and drag your feet in spiritual things. Make every day count!
Dan Vander Ark
Copyright 2008
All rights reserved
ChickenOccoli is Alive!
A few days ago my wife Kay had to be gone for the evening -- she was going to help the kids mark rummage sale items. “You’re on your own for supper,” she shouted as she headed out the door for the front lines of the Great Rummage Sale Battle. Other than grilling, the only thing I can cook is French Toast. But I had some things I needed to get done on this Friday night so I just threw a couple of frozen chicken and broccoli things in the toaster oven and cranked it up to 30 minutes.
I got involved in doing some stuff and forgot about supper. When I realized my food was now getting cold I went up to the kitchen to get them. I figured I’d just pop them into the microwave and reheat the recooked precooked chicken&broccolithingys.
I grabbed the STEEL tray lined with TINFOIL that they were on and, without thinking, opened up the microwave oven (which is directly above the toaster oven) and threw them in. I punched in one minute on the timer, turned on the microwave, and started thinking about other stuff.
With my mind on another planet I could hear the microwave going bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz shzhzhhhzhzhzhhhhhhhhhhhs zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr zhzhzhzhzhzhzhzhzhzhzhzhzhzh. Or maybe it was zhzhzhzhzhzhzhzhzhzhzhzhzhzh bbbbbbbbbbbbb gzgzgzgzgzgzgzgzgzgz rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr whpwhpwhpwhpwhp. I can’t quite remember.
I looked up, and there, directly in front of my eyes, was an elongated spark or blue flame going across the entire front of the chicken patty tray.
WOW! It looked like a tiny aurora borealis right there in my kitchen! A brilliant northern Minnesota Northern Lights display in my microwave!
I was so wishing my brothers were there to see it.
And I wanted so much just to keep the microwave going. Just to see, in the name of science and the interaction of broccoli electrons with chicken electrons and all that’s good about America, what would happen. But my wife would be back from the front lines of the Great Rummage Sale Battle preparations and I didn’t want the microwave to be just a puddle of plastic and metal.
So I panicked and hit the cancel button.
I very, very s l o w l y opened the door.
I halfway expected the chicken&broccoli things to get up and walk. Sort of a microwave version of Young Chicken Frankenstein.
CHICKENOCCOLI IS ALIVE!!!
Nope…they were still dead…and they smelled like ozone…but tasted like chicken.
Dan Vander Ark
All Rights Reserved
Stressed Out About High Gas Prices?
I remember my dad saying, “I never thought I would see gas at $1.00 per gallon.” Of course that was many years ago. But now, wow! $2.00 per gallon…then $3.00 per gallon…now where I live its on the verge of $4.00 (and might just be there by the time this is out on the web). And the price of diesel has skyrocketed. I talked to a trucker friend of mine and asked him how he’s making it. He just said it’s really tough when it costs $1,000.00 to fill up. Unless you’ve won the lottery, for the average Joe out there you almost want to close your eyes when you pull up to the pump.
I obviously don’t have a magic cure for high gas prices. I haven’t figured out how to make that Mr. Fusion thing they had in “Back to the Future.” We tried cow magnets back in the 70’s, but that didn’t work. And I emailed my brother about a contraption out on the internet that is supposed to give you a big increase in gas mileage. He said our uncle Bruce tried that back in the 70’s also and it didn’t work.
Yes there are some things we can do to conserve, but if you have a fairly long commute or maybe you and your wife work separate shifts, or you can’t afford to buy a hybrid or higher mileage car right now, filling up at the pump can be pretty stressful. You sometimes feel like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, between filling up the tank or putting your money somewhere else very necessary. And at times you feel like there is no solution and no where to turn when you’re so squeezed financially.
Stress. If you were to ask 10 people to define “stress” you may get 10 different answers. Hans Selye first coined the phrase back in 1936 but wrestled all his life to find a satisfactory definition. Eventually he redefined it as “the rate of wear and tear on the body.” In 1983 Time magazine’s cover story called stress “The Epidemic of the Eighties”; it has been estimated that anywhere from 60 to 90 percent of all doctor visits can be attributable to stress.
There is an encyclopedia worth of information available to anyone about the definition, causes and cure for stress. This short article will focus on one little aspect of coping with stressful situations in general. One of the reasons I like reading the Bible is because there is so much practical information that helps us out in our every day world. The Bible isn’t meant just for seminaries or just for Sunday sermons, it’s meant to give help and wisdom to working people on working days in working places.
David (the Old Testament character David) had to deal with stress a multitude of times in his life. Whether it was fighting giants, hiding in caves, fleeing from enemies, facing political storms, or being hounded by family members who wanted to kill him, all of these events brought terrific times of stress to his life. The deepest feelings of David’s heart during these struggles have been recorded for us in the book of Psalms.
One such passage is in Psalm 18. Let me point out something interesting in verse 6 and verse 19. Verse six says, “In my distress (or stress) I called upon the LORD, and cried to my God for help; He heard my voice out of His temple, and my cry for help before Him came into His ears.” And verse 19 says, “He brought me forth also into a broad place; He rescued me, because He delighted in me.”
The word that’s used in verse 6 for distress is the Hebrew word “tsar.” It literally means this: a narrow or tight place.” It is used in Numbers 22:26 in an interesting way that gives us some insight into what stress is all about. “And the angel of the Lord went further, and stood in a narrow place (our word “tsar”) where there was NO WAY TO TURN TO THE RIGHT OR TO THE LEFT. That graphically displays what stress is all about – being in a narrow place (a tight spot) without being able to turn to the right or left. In other words – I am stuck between a rock and a hard place, I don’t have an avenue of escape, and I don’t see any way out of my predicament!
Strained relationships, raising children, financial problems, trying to find a job, high gas prices, illnesses, the loss of a loved one, the list goes on and on. All things that can bring terrific stress to our lives. And sometimes it seems like there is NO WAY OUT of our dilemma (which is a cause of depression).
But King David didn’t just say, “I’m Stressed!” and leave it there. He said, “In my stress…I called to the Lord, and cried to my God for help!” One of the reasons why David was so successful in his life was because he was always praying about his problems (and he had lots of them). God cares about you and the difficulties you are going through! Bring your problems, your concerns, your worries, your unbearable situations, and your stress to Him in prayer. He is genuinely concerned about the “stuff” you are going through!
This is the progression that’s recorded for us in Psalm 18: First, “I was in distress” – I couldn’t find a way out of my problems, I was stressed out. Secondly, “So I prayed about it” –I called to Him in prayer. Thirdly, “He listened to me” – He heard my prayer! (The second part of verse 6). Do you realize that the God of the Universe longs to listen to your prayer? And fourthly, “He gave me an answer.” David was stressed, he prayed, God heard, God gave him an answer!
And part of the answer is recorded for us in verse 19, “He brought me forth into a wide open field, He rescued me because He delighted in me.” Being “brought forth into a wide open field” in the Bible is the opposite of the “distress” (the “tsar”) -- the narrow place or choke point of verse 6.
Have you ever been in a large crowd where you were so constricted that you almost felt claustrophobic? And how did you feel once you were free from the crowd and had plenty of room and were able to relax and breathe freely again? This is exactly the scenario that is spelled out in verses 6 and 19. In verse 6 problems are pressing in upon David to the point where he has no where to turn – he is at a choke point and feels claustrophobic in the midst of his difficulties. But then God answers and brings him into a “broad place.” Spiritually speaking, he is taken from the crush of people in an overcrowded subway to the wide open spaces a Dakota prairie! He now can see multiple avenues of escape from his problems and can see a way out of his predicament.
Again, I obviously don’t have a magic bullet solution to the high price of gas and diesel. High gas prices are probably here to stay. And I am obviously not saying that if you begin to pray that your SUV is going to suddenly start getting 50 miles to the gallon. But this one thing I do know with certainty – God cares about the smallest details of your life! He is concerned about your stress, distress, and worry. Take your problems to Him in prayer. You will be amazed at what He can do in you, through you and for you!
Dan Vander Ark
All Rights Reserved
Dental Checkup
I received a really nice postcard in the mail the other day. It was from my dentist. And it was time for my 6 month checkup. Now I don’t know about you, but I usually go to my 6 month dental checkups about once a year.
The hygienist, Debbie, was very nice. She invited me to sit in the dental version of a La-Z-Boy, and then proceeded to tilt the chair back until I was sure I was going to slide off onto my head. I held on tight to the arm rests and wished for a seat belt.
After a quick glance at my records, the hygienist informed me that I should have my x-rays updated.
“OK,” I replied gleefully. I was then draped in 20 lbs of lead and a couple of little pieces of cardboard with film in them were placed as far back in my mouth as possible. I think even farther. The ray gun of death was pointed at my mouth and the pictures were taken.
Debbie then gazed down at my mouth through what looked like a pair of night vision goggles. After a preliminary check by her and an examination by the dentist, I was informed that I needed a crown. Not just a tiara, but a full blown gold crown. Apparently tooth #31 was rotting away.
Knowing that the price of gold is now at about $1,000,000.00 per fleck, I immediately wondered how much that was going to cost. When they informed me that my dental plan would probably cover at least 50% of the cost, I asked if I could just get the 50% portion done that the insurance would cover and call it even. There was a little bit of silence and then laughter when they figured out I was kidding. They don’t know me.
I was then informed that my teeth looked pretty good except that my gums were receding. Recession can be caused by brushing too hard, they told me. (And I always thought it was caused by us not maxing out our credit cards). Now I knew my hair had been receding for quite some time (all the way to the back of my head), but I didn’t know that your gums could recede. I asked my dental dream team, “Is there a connection between the receding hair and the receding gums?” They are both located in the head, so I figured there was. (This is a good spot for a little science lesson: You know that law of physics that says, “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction?” So if something is receding on my body, then shouldn’t something be advancing? Maybe that’s where the weight gain comes from. The gums and hair recede, the age and weight advances.)
The dentist said something like, “Maybe there is Rogaine for your gums!”
I mentioned I was going to do some research on the internet about this as soon as possible. And if I couldn’t find a cure then I think this might work: Take your wife’s colander (you know, that spaghetti strainer thingy), your daughter’s Ipod, and a 9 volt battery from your grandson’s remote control Humvee. Oh, and some duct tape and wire. Duct tape the Ipod to the colander on the right side, cut off the ear phone/buds and attach a couple of alligator clips to the end of the wires. Duct tape the 9 volt battery to the left side of the colander and attach a couple of wires to the battery and have a couple of alligator clips on those wires as well. Place the colander on your head – attach one Ipod wire and one 9 volt battery wire to the right side molars (one top and one bottom) and one Ipod wire and one 9volt battery wire to the left side molars (one top and one bottom). Oh yeah, make sure you put a dimmer switch somewhere along those battery wires or you’ll regret it. Start with a very low voltage setting (dimmer switch almost to “dim”) and some Barry Manilow music at low volume (the earphones are gone but don’t sweat it, your teeth will crank out the song). Try that for one hour before bed each night. If after 6 months your hair and gums are still receding then crank up the voltage and switch to some heavy metal music like Metallica.
After the hygienist was finished cleaning my teeth, she did the floss thing.
She then asked the dreaded question…..”How often do you floss?”
I was trapped. “Well, I am thinking how I should answer that question.” She laughed.
But the guilt was just overwhelming, so I finally blurted out, “Once a year! At my 6 month checkup! When I come to see you!“ Although I guess I have flossed a couple of times when I’ve had something like whale blubber stuck between my teeth. (Perhaps in the future if you want to get a job with the government, there will just be two questions at the job interview: Them: Have you ever been convicted of a felony? Applicant: Uh, No. Them: Do you floss? Applicant: Ummmmm, well, uh not really. Them: NEXT!)
Then she asked about the fluoride treatment. That’s the part I hate the most. Those two little trays smooshing on your teeth with the little suction instrument stuck between them. I think the CIA uses the “fluoride treatment” to try to get the truth out of people; and if that doesn’t work then they use water surfboarding or whatever that is.
She asked me what flavor I wanted. I wanted coffee flavored but they didn’t have that. There was banana, strawberry, chocolate, pine and I think cement flavored. I chose strawberry.
She put the trays in and I inserted the little suction thing. I noticed the suction thingy had a small knob on it to either increase or decrease the suctivity. I wanted so bad to crank it wide open, but was afraid my head might collapse. Or worse yet, create an orthodontic version of a black hole right there in the dentist office causing everything not fastened down to come toward my head at the speed of suction.
I was so relieved when that was done.
As I left she handed me a new toothbrush and a thing of floss.
“Oh thanks!” I said, “I will add this to my collection! And I will see you in a year at my next 6 month checkup!”
The hygienist, Debbie, was very nice. She invited me to sit in the dental version of a La-Z-Boy, and then proceeded to tilt the chair back until I was sure I was going to slide off onto my head. I held on tight to the arm rests and wished for a seat belt.
After a quick glance at my records, the hygienist informed me that I should have my x-rays updated.
“OK,” I replied gleefully. I was then draped in 20 lbs of lead and a couple of little pieces of cardboard with film in them were placed as far back in my mouth as possible. I think even farther. The ray gun of death was pointed at my mouth and the pictures were taken.
Debbie then gazed down at my mouth through what looked like a pair of night vision goggles. After a preliminary check by her and an examination by the dentist, I was informed that I needed a crown. Not just a tiara, but a full blown gold crown. Apparently tooth #31 was rotting away.
Knowing that the price of gold is now at about $1,000,000.00 per fleck, I immediately wondered how much that was going to cost. When they informed me that my dental plan would probably cover at least 50% of the cost, I asked if I could just get the 50% portion done that the insurance would cover and call it even. There was a little bit of silence and then laughter when they figured out I was kidding. They don’t know me.
I was then informed that my teeth looked pretty good except that my gums were receding. Recession can be caused by brushing too hard, they told me. (And I always thought it was caused by us not maxing out our credit cards). Now I knew my hair had been receding for quite some time (all the way to the back of my head), but I didn’t know that your gums could recede. I asked my dental dream team, “Is there a connection between the receding hair and the receding gums?” They are both located in the head, so I figured there was. (This is a good spot for a little science lesson: You know that law of physics that says, “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction?” So if something is receding on my body, then shouldn’t something be advancing? Maybe that’s where the weight gain comes from. The gums and hair recede, the age and weight advances.)
The dentist said something like, “Maybe there is Rogaine for your gums!”
I mentioned I was going to do some research on the internet about this as soon as possible. And if I couldn’t find a cure then I think this might work: Take your wife’s colander (you know, that spaghetti strainer thingy), your daughter’s Ipod, and a 9 volt battery from your grandson’s remote control Humvee. Oh, and some duct tape and wire. Duct tape the Ipod to the colander on the right side, cut off the ear phone/buds and attach a couple of alligator clips to the end of the wires. Duct tape the 9 volt battery to the left side of the colander and attach a couple of wires to the battery and have a couple of alligator clips on those wires as well. Place the colander on your head – attach one Ipod wire and one 9 volt battery wire to the right side molars (one top and one bottom) and one Ipod wire and one 9volt battery wire to the left side molars (one top and one bottom). Oh yeah, make sure you put a dimmer switch somewhere along those battery wires or you’ll regret it. Start with a very low voltage setting (dimmer switch almost to “dim”) and some Barry Manilow music at low volume (the earphones are gone but don’t sweat it, your teeth will crank out the song). Try that for one hour before bed each night. If after 6 months your hair and gums are still receding then crank up the voltage and switch to some heavy metal music like Metallica.
After the hygienist was finished cleaning my teeth, she did the floss thing.
She then asked the dreaded question…..”How often do you floss?”
I was trapped. “Well, I am thinking how I should answer that question.” She laughed.
But the guilt was just overwhelming, so I finally blurted out, “Once a year! At my 6 month checkup! When I come to see you!“ Although I guess I have flossed a couple of times when I’ve had something like whale blubber stuck between my teeth. (Perhaps in the future if you want to get a job with the government, there will just be two questions at the job interview: Them: Have you ever been convicted of a felony? Applicant: Uh, No. Them: Do you floss? Applicant: Ummmmm, well, uh not really. Them: NEXT!)
Then she asked about the fluoride treatment. That’s the part I hate the most. Those two little trays smooshing on your teeth with the little suction instrument stuck between them. I think the CIA uses the “fluoride treatment” to try to get the truth out of people; and if that doesn’t work then they use water surfboarding or whatever that is.
She asked me what flavor I wanted. I wanted coffee flavored but they didn’t have that. There was banana, strawberry, chocolate, pine and I think cement flavored. I chose strawberry.
She put the trays in and I inserted the little suction thing. I noticed the suction thingy had a small knob on it to either increase or decrease the suctivity. I wanted so bad to crank it wide open, but was afraid my head might collapse. Or worse yet, create an orthodontic version of a black hole right there in the dentist office causing everything not fastened down to come toward my head at the speed of suction.
I was so relieved when that was done.
As I left she handed me a new toothbrush and a thing of floss.
“Oh thanks!” I said, “I will add this to my collection! And I will see you in a year at my next 6 month checkup!”
Squeezing Razorblades
Two elderly ladies in the nursing home were seated next to each other in their wheelchairs. Suddenly they began to argue and fight and the aides had to break up their seasoned citizen altercation. When I asked Vicki what the fight was about, her answer was both comical and tragic. “They were in grade school together, she said, “and they were fighting about something that had happened on the playground during recess!”
Winkie Pratney tells the following story: In the 1960’s a teenage boy went up to an elderly man in a New York City park, pulled out a huge knife and stabbed the man more than 100 times. When the police pressed him to find out why he had so senselessly killed the old man that he had never seen before, the answer shocked the officers. “My mom kept comparing me to my brother and badgering me as to why I couldn’t be like him – an excellent athlete, smart, talented, good looking and famous. I knew I could never be like him or famous…so I thought of the worst thing I could do and I went out and did it. At least my mom will remember me now…” (1)
If you do a search on the internet, a few different items pop up as the number one health problem in America today. Substance abuse, heart disease, obesity, AIDS, lack of sleep, even poverty are included in the mix.
But there is one disease that perhaps cripples more people, ruins more lives, and troubles more families than any other. It begins almost imperceptibly and is sometimes hard to diagnose. Those left in its wake are found in every age group, every ethnic background and in every country. If you were to ask me what the number one health problem is I would have to say that this ranks at least in the top ten...bitterness. However you term it – a sour spirit, a sore in the soul, holding a grudge – it is something that can, in the least, rob an individual of joy, and at the worst, destroy lives. I am convinced that people suffer emotionally, physically, spiritually, and sometimes financially, because of a bitter, unforgiving spirit. It is conceivably THE number one robber of contentment in life.
When I was a pastor I enjoyed visiting with the older people in the congregation. Two elderly ladies (one in one congregation and one at another church) come to mind when I think about attitudes and the different choices that people can make. When you visited with M. you left drained and emotionally “down.” To put it simply, she was just a bitter old lady. But when you visited Helen, you left feeling like this, “When I grow old, I want to be like Helen!” At 99, even though her husband had passed away years ago and even though her eyesight and hearing were failing, she was simply a joyful person. “I am so blessed!” she would often say. Bitterness was not allowed to flourish in her life.
When we live a life poisoned with bitterness or a sour spirit, that unforgiving attitude is going to manifest itself some way. It cannot be otherwise. Whether it is the smallest slight (like someone forgetting an anniversary or a birthday or failing to say, “Hi!” when we see them at a store) or the most painful and egregious memory (a broken family relationship or a spouse killed by a drunk driver), if we don’t forgive, then that mindset will sooner or later find its way to the surface. Most people won’t do as the teenage boy did to that elderly man in the above story, but we find our own way to deal with sour situations and the bitter pools in our lives. Perhaps we walk on the other side of the street when we see “that person” coming. Or maybe we no longer include the person when we email a funny joke to our coworkers, or maybe it’s just a cutting comment that we make about a friend. It’s our own form of revenge.
An article on CBN.com says this, “When you are offended or disappointed by others and allow the hurt to germinate in your heart, bitterness and resentment will take root. Characterized by an unforgiving spirit and generally negative, critical attitudes, bitterness and resentment are sinful and self-defeating. They will color your conscious and unconscious thoughts and actions. Allowed to fester, they will destroy and kill…”
It’s interesting how bitterness can develop over time. Beginning with the smallest of offenses, if left unchecked, it can eventually result in the total dissolution of relationships. It may sound funny, but leaving the cap off the toothpaste or leaving your socks in the middle of floor and not picking them up can sometimes tragically develop into “irreconcilable differences.”
I think one of the reasons that Jesus was so emphatic about our responsibility to forgive is that He knew the end result of a life spent in this disease. Plus, believe it or not, He wants us to be happy! And so He said, “These things (i.e. have a forgiving spirit) I have spoken unto you that…your joy might be full.” (John 15:11).
In my own life I first became aware of how bitterness could creep into your spirit and rob you of joy when I was in the Army. I was a military policeman and was part of a unit that patrolled the NCO and the officer’s housing area. Unlike the other road patrol units in our company that had to ride in jeeps, we drove a Chevelle and received some special treatment from the Colonel in charge of the MP battalion. Sometimes the dispatcher or other units would say something or do something that ticked me off and made me angry. At the time I was reading a book by Merlin R. Carothers titled “Bringing Heaven into Hell.” He was talking about the necessity to forgive and a verse found in Colossians 3:13 penetrated my spirit like a bolt of lightning, “Forbearing one another and forgiving one another, whoever has a valid complaint against anyone, just as the Lord forgave you, so also should you!” It changed me almost instantaneously. To put it simply, if you want to be a happy person, FORGIVE! Totally and unconditionally! And don’t bury the hatchet but leave the handle exposed so that you can find it again. Toss the hatchet into the ocean of God’s love! Make a conscious choice to forgive and to treat the offending party as though they had never offended you. There have been other occasions in my life where I have again allowed bitterness to creep in, but God is faithful to reveal my heart’s true condition. There have been times when I have had to ask people to forgive me and there have also been a handful of times when I have had to have a “Joseph-and-his-brothers” type of meeting (“You did me wrong…” Genesis 50:20).
There is so much more that could be written about this subject. If you are interested in reading more I would point you to these websites as a resource (just do a search under the word “bitterness”): www.troubledwith.com; www.lastdaysministries.org; www.cbn.com.
The title, “Squeezing Razorblades,” comes from a story I heard by a guest speaker at the church I was attending a few years ago. I don’t remember many of the details of the story other than that it was (I think) a young woman who had suffered something terrible and very painful in her life and was having a very difficult time forgiving the “offender.” One night she had a dream and in her dream she had in her hand some razorblades and was squeezing them. It was obviously self-destructive agonizingly painful. In the dream the Lord spoke to her and said, “This is you and your bitterness and unforgiveness. Your choice not to forgive is only hurting yourself.” She forgave the wrong and found herself released from the prison of her bitterness.
One story that so marvelously illustrates overcoming bitterness and hatred and the tremendous power of God’s forgiveness is that of Corrie Ten Boom, a Dutch woman who was arrested and imprisoned during WWII for her family’s involvement in concealing Jews in their home during the Nazi occupation of Holland. Members of her family died as a result of what the Germans had done. But through the incredible compassion of God their horrific circumstances in Ravensbruck were turned into “their finest hour.” Corrie’s sister Betsie died in the concentration camp on December 16, 1944. Among her last words to her sister were these, “We must tell them that there is no pit so deep that He is not deeper still."
After the war (1947) Corrie was speaking at a church in Munich. When her message was done she found herself face to face with one of the guards from Ravensbruck. He had become a Christian and came to her asking her to forgive him for what he had done. In her testimony, Corrie tells about the struggle she had, at that moment, to forgive. It was the first time since her release that she found herself in contact with one of her captors. Her blood froze and coldness enveloped her heart. But she made the decision to forgive. Corrie’s story on www.tlogical.net/bioboom relates this:
"And so woodenly, mechanically, I thrust my hand into the one stretched out to me. And as I did, an incredible thing took place. The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm, sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole being, bringing tears to my eyes. "I forgive you, brother!" I cried. "With all my heart!" For a long moment we grasped each other's hands, the former guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God's love so intensely as I did then."
Has your life been robbed of joy? Is there a nagging “depression” in your life? Perhaps there is someone that you need to forgive for the wrong that they have done to you. You can become free from the prison of bitterness – this sore in the soul – by asking Jesus to forgive you for anything that you have done wrong and then asking Him to give you the desire and ability to unconditionally and totally forgive those who have wronged you.
(1) www.lastdaysministries.org/articles/hurtandbitterness.html
Winkie Pratney tells the following story: In the 1960’s a teenage boy went up to an elderly man in a New York City park, pulled out a huge knife and stabbed the man more than 100 times. When the police pressed him to find out why he had so senselessly killed the old man that he had never seen before, the answer shocked the officers. “My mom kept comparing me to my brother and badgering me as to why I couldn’t be like him – an excellent athlete, smart, talented, good looking and famous. I knew I could never be like him or famous…so I thought of the worst thing I could do and I went out and did it. At least my mom will remember me now…” (1)
If you do a search on the internet, a few different items pop up as the number one health problem in America today. Substance abuse, heart disease, obesity, AIDS, lack of sleep, even poverty are included in the mix.
But there is one disease that perhaps cripples more people, ruins more lives, and troubles more families than any other. It begins almost imperceptibly and is sometimes hard to diagnose. Those left in its wake are found in every age group, every ethnic background and in every country. If you were to ask me what the number one health problem is I would have to say that this ranks at least in the top ten...bitterness. However you term it – a sour spirit, a sore in the soul, holding a grudge – it is something that can, in the least, rob an individual of joy, and at the worst, destroy lives. I am convinced that people suffer emotionally, physically, spiritually, and sometimes financially, because of a bitter, unforgiving spirit. It is conceivably THE number one robber of contentment in life.
When I was a pastor I enjoyed visiting with the older people in the congregation. Two elderly ladies (one in one congregation and one at another church) come to mind when I think about attitudes and the different choices that people can make. When you visited with M. you left drained and emotionally “down.” To put it simply, she was just a bitter old lady. But when you visited Helen, you left feeling like this, “When I grow old, I want to be like Helen!” At 99, even though her husband had passed away years ago and even though her eyesight and hearing were failing, she was simply a joyful person. “I am so blessed!” she would often say. Bitterness was not allowed to flourish in her life.
When we live a life poisoned with bitterness or a sour spirit, that unforgiving attitude is going to manifest itself some way. It cannot be otherwise. Whether it is the smallest slight (like someone forgetting an anniversary or a birthday or failing to say, “Hi!” when we see them at a store) or the most painful and egregious memory (a broken family relationship or a spouse killed by a drunk driver), if we don’t forgive, then that mindset will sooner or later find its way to the surface. Most people won’t do as the teenage boy did to that elderly man in the above story, but we find our own way to deal with sour situations and the bitter pools in our lives. Perhaps we walk on the other side of the street when we see “that person” coming. Or maybe we no longer include the person when we email a funny joke to our coworkers, or maybe it’s just a cutting comment that we make about a friend. It’s our own form of revenge.
An article on CBN.com says this, “When you are offended or disappointed by others and allow the hurt to germinate in your heart, bitterness and resentment will take root. Characterized by an unforgiving spirit and generally negative, critical attitudes, bitterness and resentment are sinful and self-defeating. They will color your conscious and unconscious thoughts and actions. Allowed to fester, they will destroy and kill…”
It’s interesting how bitterness can develop over time. Beginning with the smallest of offenses, if left unchecked, it can eventually result in the total dissolution of relationships. It may sound funny, but leaving the cap off the toothpaste or leaving your socks in the middle of floor and not picking them up can sometimes tragically develop into “irreconcilable differences.”
I think one of the reasons that Jesus was so emphatic about our responsibility to forgive is that He knew the end result of a life spent in this disease. Plus, believe it or not, He wants us to be happy! And so He said, “These things (i.e. have a forgiving spirit) I have spoken unto you that…your joy might be full.” (John 15:11).
In my own life I first became aware of how bitterness could creep into your spirit and rob you of joy when I was in the Army. I was a military policeman and was part of a unit that patrolled the NCO and the officer’s housing area. Unlike the other road patrol units in our company that had to ride in jeeps, we drove a Chevelle and received some special treatment from the Colonel in charge of the MP battalion. Sometimes the dispatcher or other units would say something or do something that ticked me off and made me angry. At the time I was reading a book by Merlin R. Carothers titled “Bringing Heaven into Hell.” He was talking about the necessity to forgive and a verse found in Colossians 3:13 penetrated my spirit like a bolt of lightning, “Forbearing one another and forgiving one another, whoever has a valid complaint against anyone, just as the Lord forgave you, so also should you!” It changed me almost instantaneously. To put it simply, if you want to be a happy person, FORGIVE! Totally and unconditionally! And don’t bury the hatchet but leave the handle exposed so that you can find it again. Toss the hatchet into the ocean of God’s love! Make a conscious choice to forgive and to treat the offending party as though they had never offended you. There have been other occasions in my life where I have again allowed bitterness to creep in, but God is faithful to reveal my heart’s true condition. There have been times when I have had to ask people to forgive me and there have also been a handful of times when I have had to have a “Joseph-and-his-brothers” type of meeting (“You did me wrong…” Genesis 50:20).
There is so much more that could be written about this subject. If you are interested in reading more I would point you to these websites as a resource (just do a search under the word “bitterness”): www.troubledwith.com; www.lastdaysministries.org; www.cbn.com.
The title, “Squeezing Razorblades,” comes from a story I heard by a guest speaker at the church I was attending a few years ago. I don’t remember many of the details of the story other than that it was (I think) a young woman who had suffered something terrible and very painful in her life and was having a very difficult time forgiving the “offender.” One night she had a dream and in her dream she had in her hand some razorblades and was squeezing them. It was obviously self-destructive agonizingly painful. In the dream the Lord spoke to her and said, “This is you and your bitterness and unforgiveness. Your choice not to forgive is only hurting yourself.” She forgave the wrong and found herself released from the prison of her bitterness.
One story that so marvelously illustrates overcoming bitterness and hatred and the tremendous power of God’s forgiveness is that of Corrie Ten Boom, a Dutch woman who was arrested and imprisoned during WWII for her family’s involvement in concealing Jews in their home during the Nazi occupation of Holland. Members of her family died as a result of what the Germans had done. But through the incredible compassion of God their horrific circumstances in Ravensbruck were turned into “their finest hour.” Corrie’s sister Betsie died in the concentration camp on December 16, 1944. Among her last words to her sister were these, “We must tell them that there is no pit so deep that He is not deeper still."
After the war (1947) Corrie was speaking at a church in Munich. When her message was done she found herself face to face with one of the guards from Ravensbruck. He had become a Christian and came to her asking her to forgive him for what he had done. In her testimony, Corrie tells about the struggle she had, at that moment, to forgive. It was the first time since her release that she found herself in contact with one of her captors. Her blood froze and coldness enveloped her heart. But she made the decision to forgive. Corrie’s story on www.tlogical.net/bioboom relates this:
"And so woodenly, mechanically, I thrust my hand into the one stretched out to me. And as I did, an incredible thing took place. The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm, sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole being, bringing tears to my eyes. "I forgive you, brother!" I cried. "With all my heart!" For a long moment we grasped each other's hands, the former guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God's love so intensely as I did then."
Has your life been robbed of joy? Is there a nagging “depression” in your life? Perhaps there is someone that you need to forgive for the wrong that they have done to you. You can become free from the prison of bitterness – this sore in the soul – by asking Jesus to forgive you for anything that you have done wrong and then asking Him to give you the desire and ability to unconditionally and totally forgive those who have wronged you.
(1) www.lastdaysministries.org/articles/hurtandbitterness.html
When Fast Food is Not Fast Enough
I usually stop at one of those fast food places on my weigh, excuse me, I mean on my way to work. And I always get the same thing – one sausageeggbiscuit with lots of stuff that’s one molecule away from eating plastic. The voice comes out of the little speaker: “Thank you for stopping at the Breakfast-Biscuit-Barn, how may I help you?” I ask for the usual. And the answer is always the same: “That will be $2.13 at the first window. Please pull ahead.” I usually say “Thanks” and follow orders (trying to beat the person in the other lane – more on that in a moment). One time I thought I would throw a little wrinkle into the morning fast food breakfast routine. When the person in the speaker said, “That will be $2.13 at the first window,” I asked, “How much at the second window?” The Speaker of the Breakfast said a little louder and a little firmer, “THAT WILL BE $2.13 AT THE FIRST WINDOW.” One time at Hardees I asked if they took McDonald’s coupons – they didn’t think it was funny.
At the Breakfast-Biscuit-Barn (the BBB) I never go inside – I always use the drive-through, and the drive-through has two lanes. Most of the time, if you are there first, then you get to pull ahead first, get to pay first, and get your food first. And people are polite – if it’s a tie and you both give your order at the exact same moment and you both slam the gas pedal to the floor at the same instant, one driver generally waits for the other. It’s that Minnesota Nice thing. But there have been a couple of times when I have pulled into one of the lanes and there is no one else in the other lane and I wait and wait for the little speaker person to say something. A couple of times I have backed up and come in again to see if I can fool the Speaker of the Breakfast, and that has worked. But sometimes, while you are waiting very patiently, SOMEONE ELSE PULLS IN WAY AFTER YOU DID AND THE SPEAKER PERSON TALKS TO THEM FIRST! That’s where Minnesota Nice ends. “Oh yooooohoooo,” I call out in a stern but friendly voice, “I WAS HERE FIRST!” The other person pulls ahead to pay their money and get their food and I only have 78 seconds left to get to work. I have thought about calling 911 when this has happened.
“This is 911, please state your emergency!”
“Someone at the Breakfast-Biscuit-Barn drive-through who came in after me got to go first! Can you send a SWAT team?”
Click
But then the next day, the very day after you had your morning ruined, you pull in after some little old lady who can barely see over the dashboard, go into the open lane, and BINGO! The Speaker of the Breakfast talks to you first! You slam down the gas pedal, beat her to the window and YOU ARE THERE FIRST! You’re gonna have a really good day!
I am so pathetic.
One time I lost a bet with a Packer fan and had to wear Packer earrings taped to my ears all day. When I went through the drive-through, the Giver-of-the-Coffee just stared. I thought that was funny.
And I have tried to time it so that I don’t even have to stop after they take my order and money. One time when the coast was clear I have actually rolled through without having to stop! I did ask the Hander-Over-of the-Food person one time just to throw it in. However, that doesn’t work with coffee.
I have thought very seriously about how they could speed things up and I think I have it figured out. You could buy a phone (or it would free if you committed to 365 sausageeggbiscuits in the next year – however if you opt out before the contract is up, there would be an additional charge of $2,000.00). It would be shaped like a cheeseburger and have a French Fry for an antenna and you would flip the bun-cover to open it. The phone would have a GPS chip and one of the menu options would be a menu. Touch the screen for what you want and on the giant plasma satellite tracking screen at the Breakfast-Biscuit-Barn they would get your order and follow your vehicle. Once you pull out of the garage it would trigger a siren and light. The crew chief would holler out, “Vander Ark has left the garage! Get a sausageeggbiscuit ready! Load the PVC Breakfast Biscuit Shooter. (You know how you can build a potato gun out of PVC pipe? That’s what I think they should use. Just fire the sausageeggbiscuit into the pickup through the open window. And for the napkins – maybe they would have to wrap them around a little piece of lead or something. We put a man on the moon – they should be able to fire napkins 6 feet through an open vehicle window.)
They would follow a little GPS blip across a map of West Duluth. Beep……...….beep……….beep…... beep…...beep…beep..beepbeepbeepbeep! He’s pulling across Grand Avenue…PREPARE TO FIRE! And besides the regular drive-through, there would be the Race-Through – a superfast express lane for not just fast food, but for Really-Fast food. Your vehicle would have a huge barcode on the side to debit your BBB account automatically – you would get scanned, the worker would prepare the biscuit gun and kawam! Blap! You have made it through in a mere 9 seconds!
Of course your breakfastbiscuit is splattered against the passenger window. But hey! It’s still edible and you aren’t gonna be late for work. Just make sure to duck when they fire the napkins.
Copyright 2008 All rights reserved
The Day I had to Wear the Packer Earrings
(Just a note of introduction...I work in the purchasing office of a large medical facility and there are about 20 of us in cubicleville and this is just a snapshot of what took place in Purchasing Land this past football season (2007). I live in Duluth, MN and my coworker lives in Superior, WI -- two sister cities that sit next to each other at the tip of Lake Superior. But they are divided by a friendly (if not fierce) football rivalry between the MN Vikings and the Green Bay Packers.) Dan :>)
"A joyful heart does good like medicine" Proverbs 17:22)
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I had had enough. My coworker came over to my cube to show me her Packer Shirt and Packer Bracelet and Packer Earrings. It was Friday – two days before the “Showdown” part two. The 7-1 Green Bay Packers versus the 3-5 Minnesota Vikings. She lives in Superior, I live in Duluth. She has green blood, I have purple blood. She is from the Darth Vader side, I am from the Luke Skywalker side. Her team has had one quarterback since the last Millennium, my team has had 67. Her team has won 3 Super Bowls, my team has...well just skip that part. She has a Packer football hanging in her cube. I have a stuffed 12” tall Viking guy and a pair of hand knitted Viking socks (who knows why). Oh, and a foam rubber Viking Brick sits on the top of my monitor. And she was feeling pretty good about her team, and I was feeling, well, like, ummmmm, well, forget it. When she was done parading her Packer stuff in front of my face, I disengaged my brain and quickly composed an email and sent it out to the entire office:
Go Vikings!
Down with the Packers!
And if the Packers win I will wear Nancy’s earrings for like say an hour from like 6:30-7:30.
And if the Vikings win she has to carry around my Viking doll for the whole day: well it’s not really a Viking doll because I don’t play with dolls, its more like a Viking Action Figure; but come to think of it it’s not really an action figure – it’s more like a “3-downs-and-punt” non-action figure.
She fired an email back and copied everyone: “If I have to carry around the Viking non-action figure ALL day you have to wear the earrings ALL day. Bet is on! P.S. Dan... What is that stuff falling from the dolls nose anyway?”
I fired back and copied everyone (my brain still being disengaged): “Ok – deal – And that’s not stuff falling from out of his nose – his moustache is just in the wrong place – I think.
Now stop the truck for just a moment. Did you ever have one those moments when you wanted just to hop into your HG Wells Time Machine and reverse time for like say the last five minutes and UNDO SOMETHING REALLY STUPID THAT YOU’VE JUST DONE?
I just stared at my computer monitor for the next several hours. “What have I done?” I began to bang my head the desk. The office grew pretty silent – not a single person responded to this exchange. I was hoping they were thinking, “Wow, Dan is really brave!” But they weren’t. They were thinking, “Wow, Dan’s really not that smart, is he?!”
A couple of the female type coworkers, purposely talking loud enough to make sure I heard, began to wonder out loud, “Gee, I wonder if Dan will make sure his clothes coordinate with the earrings?” Now, exactly what does that mean, “Coordinate what you wear?” I have a hard enough time making sure my socks match so I do the Garanimals thing. And the only thing I really care about “coordinating” is to make sure the color of the duct tape patched console in my rusty old truck doesn’t clash with the color of the seat covers.
When I got home Friday I asked my wife if she knew where my rivet gun was.
“Why?” she asked.
“I have to pierce my ears,” was my response.
“Ok, what did you do at work today?” she asked. Come to think of it, she asks that question quite often. And sometimes it’s followed by, “You’re not gonna get fired are you?”
I informed her, “I challenged a Cheesehead to a duel! Sort of. And I am just preparing for the inevitable.”
“The game hasn’t even been played yet!” was her response. She hasn’t watched the Mighty Purple and Gold much lately.
I hadn’t had a pierced ear since my wannabe hippie days when I did it with a potato and a needle. And I made sure the potato was sterilized.
Its not that I don’t like the Packers. It’s that, well, I DON’T LIKE THE PACKERS. And with my coworker, the feeling is mutual. She would rather have a cavity filled without Novocain than cheer for the Vikings. And don’t tell anyone, especially my Viking fan friends, but I actually like Brett Favre. I’ll just be really really really glad when he retires. Sometimes I wake up at night in a cold sweat from having the same bad dream. In my recurring nightmare it’s the year 2017, it’s a Sunday night game between the Packers and Vikings, and Brett Favre is still playing! The voice of Al Michaels: Well John, can you believe it? This will be Brett Favre’s 6,785 consecutive start. And he has thrown more touchdown passes than Dan Marino, John Elway, Payton Manning and Tom Brady combined! The voice of John Madden: Yeah, it’s amazing, and he just signed a contract to play ten more years!
Well, my team lost. The Vikings actually looked pretty good for awhile…but then the game started. It was painful to watch. 34-0 painful. I thought about calling my coworker and telling her I wouldn’t be in because my home was leveled by a meteor, but she would demand pictures and I didn’t have time to photoshop anything. Monday was the longest day of my life. I kept my word – I wore the earrings – they were taped to my ears. I now know what Superman feels like around Kryptonite.
Note to self: Next year, ICKSNAY ON THE EWELRYJAY! Just tell her that if her team wins you’ll buy her a really fancy lunch…like at McDonald’s…off the dollar menu…at the drive-through…in the truck with the duct-tape color coordinated interior.
Copyright 2008 All rights reserved
The Backside of the Tapestry
In big, cheerful font, the email to my family simply read, “OUR DAUGHTER IS HAVING TWINS!” But about two months later I found myself officiating at the small funeral service for George and Gwendolyn – the twins who would do their growing up in heaven. On the Saturday night before Mother’s day we received a call from our son-in-law that he had to take our daughter to the hospital. On Sunday morning little George passed away and on Wednesday little Gwendolyn went to heaven. Even though both were very premature, other babies their size had survived. The following Monday the funeral service was held. I had asked our daughter to have another pastor conduct the service, but she wanted me to do it and so I consented. Just several months prior to this memorial service I had had the privilege and joy of officiating at their wedding – now I was officiating at the funeral for their two children.
In preparing for the funeral service I began to think about a true story that I had read. The story related how in one day a father of 10 lost all of his children in a tragic car accident. And on the same day, and under some very peculiar circumstances, every one of his multi-million dollar businesses failed. All of them! So in one day he and his wife were left childless and penniless. And it was hard to reconcile the type of life he lived with what had happened so suddenly to his family. He was widely respected as a great family man and also as an honest and fair businessman. Besides serving on the city council, he also taught Sunday School at their local church. He was a man of great integrity – what he was in public he was in private. What he was in church he was in the car on the way to church. He cared for the less fortunate in his community and if an employee of one of his companies needed financial help, he made sure the money was there.
And even though his heart was broken, on the afternoon that they were to meet with the funeral director to pick out the caskets, he first stopped at the church to meet with the pastor and to spend some time worshipping God. The pastor put in a CD by the group “Casting Crowns.” As the music of “I Will Praise You in The Storm” filled the air, the brokenhearted man raised his hands in worship. Tears filled his eyes when he heard these words, “…and though my heart is torn, I will praise You in this storm!” After about an hour they left the church and made the agonizing trip to the funeral home.
But their ordeal didn’t end there. Shortly after the funeral with he and his wife still reeling from what had happened to them, the husband’s health began to fail. And after a long series of tests, doctors were at a total loss as to what was wrong. Within a couple of months he was almost unrecognizable. He was swollen, disfigured, and every inch of his blackened skin was covered with pus filled sores. His nights were spent tossing and turning, unable to sleep because of the constant itching and the fever that racked his body. His condition epitomized “misery.” Through an email, three of his friends heard of the horrific disease he was battling and made arrangements to meet together to visit him. When they came to see him in the hospital, his illness had ravaged his body so much that they had to double check to make sure the name on the doctor’s chart was that of their friend.
He went through seasons of very deep depression and unbearable grief. Even though he had had a healthy relationship with God and many of his prayers were answered in amazing and miraculous ways, it seemed that for some reason God had now turned a deaf ear. But through the agony of all that had happened to him, the story went on to say, the husband and father’s faith remained steadfast. He spent tortuous hours wondering “Why?”, but he never came to the point of saying, “If this is the way God is going to treat me, I am finished with serving Him!”
Sometimes life is hard and sometimes it doesn’t appear to make sense. “Why is this happening to me?!?” seems to be often on the mind.
In the fall of 2001 my wife and I had to deal with some difficult life-stuff that left both of us emotionally drained, and in the summer of 2002 my dad passed away very unexpectedly (even though he was taken to the doctor twice the week before he died and the doctors could not find anything wrong with him). During this same period of time, I was battling with some major health issues and in 2003 and 2004 I spent a total of 6 weeks in the hospital. My wife didn’t inform me until I got home from the first surgery how bad the surgeon said my condition was and how close I had come to having a permanent address in heaven. Concurrent with these events there were the stresses that accompany working full-time plus pastoring a church plus going through a building program.
And then there was Mother’s Day weekend of 2004. The phone rang in the middle of the church service – it was an emergency call from my wife. Baby George was dying and I needed to get to the hospital as fast as I could. I asked the worship leader and a guest speaker to take the rest of the service and asked the congregation to pray. George died that Sunday and Gwendolyn a couple of days later.
In the first part of this article I mentioned that as I was preparing for the funeral service for the twins I had read the true story of the man who had lost his ten children and his businesses in one day. And after that, his health.
Most of you have probably read or heard about this story also. Except for me bringing it into the current cultural setting, it’s a story found in the Bible. It’s the story of Job. In one afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Job lost everything, and most tragically their children (chapters 1-2). Most of the rest of the book of Job is a record of the fierce and passionate dialogue that took place between Job and his friends as they tried to figure out, “Why has this happened?”
It is one of the greatest pieces of literature ever written. And a remarkable part of the story comes early in the story at the end of chapter one. Chapter one ends by saying, “Through all of this Job did not sin, nor did he blame God.” I think that is an amazing statement and two things jump out to me from that verse.
First, think about the word “through.” Living life sometimes means we have to go “through.” Psalm 23:3 says, “Yeah, though I walk “through” the valley of the shadow of death (the valley of deep darkness or trial).” I don’t know about you, but I want to go AROUND, but God calls us to go THROUGH. We want to bypass the financial struggles, the physical illness struggles, the marital problems, the struggles with our children, the struggles we have with friends and coworkers. But God calls us to go through. “Through all of this, Job…”
Secondly, and perhaps most importantly, he didn’t blame God. “Through all of this Job…did not blame God.” Take a moment and try to place yourself in the second pew of the church seated immediately behind Mr. and Mrs. Job. Directly in front of them – ten coffins lined up across the church. The ten coffins of their children. Exactly 7 days ago the entire Job clan had gathered at the oldest son’s home for a birthday party. The sounds of joy and laughter and fun filled the air. Now – heartache and unspeakable grief filled the hearts of Job and his wife. But when the organist began to play the hymn “Great Is Thy Faithfulness,” through a flood of tears Job rose to his feet and raised his hands in praise to God. Facing a funeral he worshipped! How many people today, at the first sign of trouble, shake an angry fist at God? “God, why have You done this to me?” is too often the bitter response. It should instead be, “God, I don’t understand and the pain is greater than I can bear, but in the midst of this storm I am determined to praise You and love You! I WILL praise You in this storm!” (Remember, when things are dark, it’s not wrong to cry out, “Why?!?!” Jesus did it on Calvary).
The struggles that my wife and I and our family have gone through are by no means unique – most of you have faced your own times of intense trial and darkness and questions of “Why?” And for some of you, your storms have been far more severe. In talking with friends and relatives I sometimes feel that we have just passed through a spring shower and they have faced the full force of an F5 tornado.
I remember wondering “Why?” when our church secretary and young mother of five lost her battle with cancer. Why hadn’t God healed her? I can still see the picture of her husband and five children standing alongside the coffin before it was lowered into the earth. I wondered “Why?” when the teenage boy who mowed the church lawn was tragically killed in a car accident. Why did the wife of a friend of ours develop Alzheimer’s disease at a young age?
I titled this article, “The Backside of the Tapestry.” Have you ever looked at the reverse side of this decorative and colorful type of material? A tapestry is a heavy cloth woven with rich and colorful threads into stunning scenes or designs – sometimes they are hung on walls for decoration and sometimes they are used to cover furniture. On the front you can see the beautiful colors and patterns and scenes – all woven together in perfect order and harmony. But on the back all you see are the colors and patterns that don’t seem to go together or make a whole lot of sense. Sometimes the loosely hanging threads seem so out of place, and it definitely doesn’t look like something you would want to hang on your wall or put on your furniture. It has no beauty and just seems to be a disorganized piece of no-purpose cloth.
Job (and Mrs. Job) only saw the backside of the tapestry. They didn’t understand. Life didn’t make sense. In chapters one and two we are immediately able to see behind the scenes and are given a glimpse of the heavenly battle between Satan and God. But it’s the part of the story that Job never got to witness. And so we see, at least in part, the reason for Job’s troubles. But Job isn’t privy to such information. To him – one day he is just sailing along fine serving God with his whole heart listening to the laughter of children. And a month later? While a fever racks his frail body, the awful memory of those ten coffins continually fills his waking hours. Through many dark and depressing nights of anguish he couldn’t see how any possible good could come out of what had happened. BUT GOD WAS WEAVING HIS LIFE TOGETHER INTO A BEAUTIFUL DESIGN! When the end of the book came, Job finally got to see the front of the tapestry…and it was far more wonderful and beautiful than he could have ever have imagined! Read chapter 42. The Divine Weaver had taken all of the pain and sadness and confusion and anguish and tears and disappointment of the preceding months and turned it ALL into something beautiful.
At the funeral for George and Gwen I held up a small piece of tapestry. I showed the backside first. The color scheme and patterns didn’t seem to make sense or fit together and it was hard to detect a pattern or scene. But when I turned it over you could see the beautiful mountain scene, the flowing river, the meadow and the two deer standing in the meadow – one buck and one doe. Little George and little Gwendolyn.
Perhaps right now your life doesn’t seem to make a whole lot of sense. Maybe there is some tremendous pain that you are going through right now. Unbearable grief surrounded by days of darkness. Paul wrote in Romans 8:28 that “All things work together for good to them that love God.” He doesn’t say that all things are good – but that GOD CAN WEAVE ALL THINGS (the good and the bad) into something good. If there is one thing I could leave you with it is this: despite the pain you may be going through right now, GOD CARES DEEPLY FOR YOU!!! And He can take all of the confusion and all of the pain and all of the senselessness and weave it together into something far more beautiful and more amazing than you could ever possibly dream! Cry out to Him today…He is much closer than you think!
Copyright 2008 All rights reserved
Having Coffee With Friends at the Tofte Dump
My boss’s boss’s grandfather passed away and the department secretary passed the obituary around for us to read. Two things stuck with me after I read it. First – it was longer than the normal obituary and so I immediately assumed he must have lived a “full” life. Apparently he did. The obit listed the extensive record of his activities and accomplishments and military service. The second thing, and the item that really stood out to me, was this phrase tucked between the list of accomplishments and his surviving family members: “He loved….having coffee with friends at the Tofte dump.” I may be reading too much into that phrase (I never knew or met the man) but to me it speaks volumes about a life lived full. Tofte is a little town in Northeastern Minnesota along the shores of Lake Superior. Population of 246 (or so). At the mining company where he was employed he worked his way up from foreman to results engineer and then to plant supervisor. Later (after retirement) he came back as a consultant. He was a board member of an area utility company and also a member of the local hospital board.
He did lots of “stuff.” And yet when it came time to write a few paragraphs of his life to put in the local paper, family members thought it appropriate to include the few words, “He loved having coffee with friends at the Tofte dump.” Weren’t there other accomplishments/activities/contacts/life-stuff that would be more appropriate or more impressive to readers? What was the biggest fish he ever caught? Did he ever get a hole in one? What kind of a plane did he fly? During those nine years he served in the Navy during WWII (and the Korean conflict) was he involved in any of the major battles we read about? No details about any of that. And yet….”he loved spending time with friends at the Tofte dump.”
I think that’s so cool. To me it says a lot about the important things of life. Living the “dash” (you know, that little itty bitty horizontal line between a date of birth and date of death that is chiseled into millions of headstones in thousands of cemeteries). Here was a man who sounded pretty accomplished and yet he apparently never lost touch with the people he grew up with and grew to love spending time with.
Perhaps somewhere on some highway or gravel road you’ve stopped by a small family-owned café for breakfast or lunch – and when you opened the door just about every eye turned to see who the hungry strangers were. I remember vividly as a kid stopping at one such café in Wheaton, Minnesota along highway 75 on our way to our grandparent’s house. A bunch of “old-timers” would be sitting in one booth or around one table telling jokes, maybe talking about the crops, perhaps bragging about the fish they caught or the buck they shot, passing along the town news-gossip and just having a great time.
But this scenario is a little different – they met at the town dump! Not as idyllic of a scene as a Terry Redlin old-time rural America painting, but a rural America scene nonetheless (just as the superstore-ization of our cities has wiped out most of the small mom and pop grocery stores, so the “town dump” has given way to the more sterile term “sanitary landfill”). Did they meet at the little shack that stood at the entrance to most dumps? Did they ever say, “I can’t believe Charlie is throwing that out!”? Did they bring home the “one-man’s-junk-is-another-man’s-treasure” treasure? (It seemed sometimes that my dad brought back more from the dump than he originally hauled there. You can’t do that nowadays – everything is promptly crushed by some sort of mechanized T-Rex – thus we have lost a great “dump-tradition”). Whatever they did or didn’t do, I am guessing he and they had a wonderful time.
“He loved…having coffee with friends at the Tofte dump.” There is a phrase in verse 3 of the 14th chapter of the Gospel of Mark that stands out to me, “…and being in Bethany in the home of Simon the leper…” Only two days before Good Friday, Jesus (the King of kings, the Lord of lords, the Creator of the universe) was in a town about the size of Tofte and in a home – not of the mayor or some prominent family or bigwig – but of Simon the leper! Wow! Didn’t he have more on His mind? Weren’t there some other more important preparations to be taken care of? This is either Tuesday night or Wednesday of Passion Week and only about 48 hours away from His sacrificial and excruciating death on Calvary – shouldn’t He be confronting some Pharisee someplace? But the Bible says that “He was having coffee with friends at the town dump.” (The Vander Ark paraphrased version). To me that speaks volumes about the love and concern that the Son of Man had for the “Mr. and Mrs. Life-is-tough” family. He genuinely and sincerely loved being with people! In fact, He loved them enough to go to the cross for them (the John 3:16 thing).
“He loved…having coffee with friends at the Tofte dump.” When your obituary is written will they simply list your job titles, places of employment, educational degrees, and surviving family members? Or will they include a much more important snippet of how your life was lived…your very own version of “He loved…having coffee with friends at the Tofte dump?”
Dan Vander Ark
The Magic Sock Drawer
“Hey honey, come here and look at this!” “I’m coming, I’m coming,” my wife replied, “What’s going on?” I pointed to the bottom drawer of the dresser in our little bedroom. “Look! IT’S FULL AGAIN! I CANNOT BELIEVE IT! This has to be some sort of miracle! This drawer hasn’t been empty for over 12,000 days! I sat on the edge of the bed and just stared at the drawer. My wife just rolled her eyes.
“12,000 days,” I kept repeating. “Always full, never without socks.”
I followed her as she lugged a huge laundry basket down the stairs, “You don’t suppose there’s a sock angel do you? Maybe we should contact the church headquarters and see if they want to investigate and possibly turn it into a shrine.”
“I think they should investigate you,” she said.
“But this is almost bigger than Moses and the Manna,” I argued. “There…Bamanna Bread for 40 years…from heaven; here…black socks, brown socks, white socks for 33 years…from wwwwwhhhhoooooo kkknnnnnooooooowwwwwssss wwwhhhhhheerrrrreee? I bet you it has something to do with that big hole in the hozone layer!”
“Honey, it’s not the hozone layer….its the ozone layer. You think your socks are falling down from the ionosphere by aliens?”
Well,” I replied, “you know how when you put five pair of socks in the dryer and only 4.5 pair come out?”
Yeah, what about it?
Well, I think when the dryer spins it opens up some sort of vortex or Sockgate in the back of the dryer -- that stray sock then hits the hozone and somehow my magic sock drawer gets filled up!
“I think you’re spending too much time in the bozone layer,” was all she said.
I snuck up on the dresser and tried peeking in the drawer – kind of like opening up the fridge door fast enough to see if you can look in before the light comes on. It was always full. I began pondering some other strange occurrences around the house: like the fact that the sugar jar was always full, and and and come to think of it -- the coffee canister….that never gets empty either. Hmmmmmmmm?
I shared this fact with some of my guy friends (well I didn’t share it with them, we sort of grunted about it while watching the Vikings get beat). They have sometimes seen it happen in their homes but not to the extent that it happens at our home.
“Crop circles,” one of them said, “somehow it’s connected to crop circles.”
Another one said, “Set a trap. Cover the floor with flour or Jell-O or hook a pail of water to the ceiling and connect it so when the drawer is opened……wawhoooooooooooshhh.
I took part of their advice. I rigged up one of those motion sensor cameras with a flash like the deer hunters use.
It didn’t take long. I was sitting on the couch one night doing several reps of remote control curls when suddenly I saw a brilliant flash at the top of stairs followed by a crash, bang, boom, crash and then a blood curdling scream (or was it a blood curdling scream followed by a boom, crash, bang?). I raced to the top of the stairs and shot into the bedroom. My wife was sprawled out on the floor – she was covered with Jell-O and flour. I stepped right over her and the laundry basket as I rushed to look into the magic sock drawer – it was partially open! “Honey, did you see it? What was it? Did you SEE ANYTHING AT ALL???”
The last thing I remembered seeing that night was a laundry basket full of socks coming toward me at the speed of light.***
(***Disclaimer: Most of what is stated above is sort of not really true and just a little bit stretched, except for this one thing: the sock drawer is ALWAYS full and I am deeply in love with the sock angel and appreciate her more than she knows [Proverbs 31:10-31]).
Monday, March 10, 2008
When Faucets Attack
It first happened last September during my granddaughter’s second birthday party at my daughter and son-in-law’s home. We were in the process of getting ready to eat before the birthday presents were opened. The little squeeze bottle of mustard sort of “burped” and so there was some old-mustard icky stuff on the little red nozzle thing. I went to the sink and washed it off. But then I had to take the sprayer and wash the mustard out of the sink.
Then it happened.
I went to put the sprayer back and that was apparently its cue to not work. When I released the sprayer nozzle thingy it stuck and sprayed me all over the front of my sweatshirt.
The kids sort of snickered. “Hehehehehe…look at Grampa….hehehehehehe….Grampa, how did you get all wet?…hehehehehehehe.
I think my son-in-laws were responsible some how but I am having a hard time proving it.
But that wasn’t the first time it happened
It also quote-unquote “happened” (like it was an accident) at a church event in January a couple of years ago. It was a Saturday seminar with one of our important church officials. His name was Larry. We will call him Larry. Larry The Important Church Official. Larry TICO for short.
About 15 people were gathered and it was just a few minutes before I was to introduce Larry TICO. The faucet in the kitchen was leaking. It was one of those industrial type of kitchen sinks with the water supply for the faucet coming directly out of the wall (as in “pointing toward the person standing in front of the sink”).
I am a man. I am sort of handy. So I am sort of a handyman. Sort of.
I, as super-pastor-sort-of-handyman, wanted to impress the ladies in the kitchen so I attempted to fix or stop the leak.
Shouldn’t be much of a problem. I am Dutch – my ancestors were good at stopping leaks. Remember the little Dutch boy who stuck his finger in the dike to save Holland? Kept his finger in the hole all night long to prevent his homeland from becoming a lake. I wasn’t planning on taking that long.
I pushed on the faucet to see if that would help.
It didn’t.
And that’s when it happened.
Ffffssshhhhoooosoooososshhhhh!!!
Directly at me!
The one side of the faucet became unhooked from the water supply and the water was spraying horizontally out of the wall.
I, super-pastor-sort-of-handyman, held my hand up in front of the pressurized stream to try to stop it.
Who did I think I was, Moses?
I was getting wet – and fast.
Immediately someone (or I super-pastor-sort-of-handyman – that part is a little bit of a blur) went under the sink and shut off the supply.
I was really wet.
It was 5 minutes before I had to introduce Larry TICO
When I went to talk to him he said, (and I quote), “WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!”
Water-logged-super-pastor-sort-of-handyman, “Faucet…attack…me…wet.”
I introduced Larry TICO and eventually dried off.
I made some sort of joke about wanting to get baptized.
Somehow, I think my son-in-laws were involved in this also, but again, I am having a hard time proving it.
CSI Hawthorne is working on the case.
Copyright 2008 All rights reserved
Latin Phrases
A couple of weeks ago one of my coworkers emailed us a Friday quiz. The subject line said simply, “Friday quiz…Latin phrases,” and the email went on to ask, “Latin phrases people pretend to understand....how many do you know???”
Below were the phrases:
Caveat Emptor (KAV-ee-OT emp-TOR)
Persona Non Grata (puhr-SOH-nah non-GRAH-tah)
Habeas Corpus (HAY-bee-as KOR-pus)
Cogito Ergo Sum (CO-gee-toe ER-go SOME
E Pluribus Unum (EE PLUR-uh-buhs OOH-nuhm)
Quid Pro Quo (kwid proh KWOH)
Ad Hominem (ad HAH-mi-nem)
Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam (ad-MA-yor-em DAY-ee GLOR-ee-um)
Sui Generis (SOO-ee JEN-er-is)
Well, I couldn’t pass up trying to interpret them so this is what I came up with:
Caveat Emptor - A tourist attraction in SW Kentucky, "Come and see the Cave At Emptor!"
Persona Non Grata -- One of those stupid high school math problems, "If a chicken and a half can lay an egg and a half in a day and a half, how many Non Grade A eggs does Person A have?
Habeas Corpus -- A little town 12 miles southwest of Corpus Christi.
Cogito Ergo Sum -- What a Roman boss would holler at an employee..."Cogito! Do some work!"
E Pluribus Unum -- What E.P.'s family asks him when he comes in from 40 degrees below zero, "E Pluribus, you numb?"
Quid Pro Quo – Not sure…it’s either a shortened form of a cheerleader cheer for the defunct pro football team from Iowa (the Crows), “I am not quidding, look at that Pro Crow!" Or what the really, really young fans of the rock group “Kid Pro Crow” holler at one of their concerts, “Quid Pro Quo! Quid Pro Quo!”
Ad Hominem -- A request for more hominy when someone doesn't like their grits.
Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam - An ad for margarine that's really shiny.
Sui Generis -- Filing frivolous generic lawsuits.
Her reply? “Forget the real answers...yours are way better!!!!!!!!”
But there is one Latin phrase that can only be interpreted one way – and it is without doubt the most important ever penned, “Sic enim dilexit Deus mundum ut Filium suum unigenitum daret ut omnis qui credit in eum non pereat sed habeat vitam aeternam.” The interpretation? It’s a verse found in the third chapter of the Gospel of John, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” (3:16). God loves you so much He sent His Son to die for you on Calvary! Give your heart to Him today without reservation and without hesitation.
Below were the phrases:
Caveat Emptor (KAV-ee-OT emp-TOR)
Persona Non Grata (puhr-SOH-nah non-GRAH-tah)
Habeas Corpus (HAY-bee-as KOR-pus)
Cogito Ergo Sum (CO-gee-toe ER-go SOME
E Pluribus Unum (EE PLUR-uh-buhs OOH-nuhm)
Quid Pro Quo (kwid proh KWOH)
Ad Hominem (ad HAH-mi-nem)
Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam (ad-MA-yor-em DAY-ee GLOR-ee-um)
Sui Generis (SOO-ee JEN-er-is)
Well, I couldn’t pass up trying to interpret them so this is what I came up with:
Caveat Emptor - A tourist attraction in SW Kentucky, "Come and see the Cave At Emptor!"
Persona Non Grata -- One of those stupid high school math problems, "If a chicken and a half can lay an egg and a half in a day and a half, how many Non Grade A eggs does Person A have?
Habeas Corpus -- A little town 12 miles southwest of Corpus Christi.
Cogito Ergo Sum -- What a Roman boss would holler at an employee..."Cogito! Do some work!"
E Pluribus Unum -- What E.P.'s family asks him when he comes in from 40 degrees below zero, "E Pluribus, you numb?"
Quid Pro Quo – Not sure…it’s either a shortened form of a cheerleader cheer for the defunct pro football team from Iowa (the Crows), “I am not quidding, look at that Pro Crow!" Or what the really, really young fans of the rock group “Kid Pro Crow” holler at one of their concerts, “Quid Pro Quo! Quid Pro Quo!”
Ad Hominem -- A request for more hominy when someone doesn't like their grits.
Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam - An ad for margarine that's really shiny.
Sui Generis -- Filing frivolous generic lawsuits.
Her reply? “Forget the real answers...yours are way better!!!!!!!!”
But there is one Latin phrase that can only be interpreted one way – and it is without doubt the most important ever penned, “Sic enim dilexit Deus mundum ut Filium suum unigenitum daret ut omnis qui credit in eum non pereat sed habeat vitam aeternam.” The interpretation? It’s a verse found in the third chapter of the Gospel of John, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” (3:16). God loves you so much He sent His Son to die for you on Calvary! Give your heart to Him today without reservation and without hesitation.
The Steps To The Reception
The wedding for our youngest daughter Courtney was approaching fast. The reception was going to be held at the Solway Town Hall and the stage was going to be where the head table was placed. In order to make it easier for the bridal party to get up to the stage and down to the main floor I told our daughter that I would build some portable wooden steps. I procrastinated (as I normally do on things) and Courtney sent an email inquiring as to the “state of the steps.” The following is the actual email exchange that took place between us.
**********************************************************
Sent: Wednesday, August 13, 2003 1:47 PM
From: Courtney
To: Dad
Subject: Steps
Hi Dad ~ Did Mom ask you about the steps for the reception?
**********************************************************
Sent: Wednesday, August 13, 2003 2:19 PM
From: Dad
To: Courtney
Subject: RE: Steps
Yep - I told her:
Step One - you gotta fall in love with someone really nice and someone who loves your son....yeah, someone like Gus!
Step Two - you gotta decide to get married and hang around with the person in step one your whole life - even when you or they are crabby or you find a couple dings or dents in their knight-in-shining armor armor.
Step Three - you set a date to get married and ask you father, who just happens to be a preacher, to marry you two.
Step Four - You walk down the aisle with your father and he cries and his wife cries and everyone is just crying, crying, crying all over the place because they're so happy - even the little dude (Courtney’s son) is crying...
Step Five - You say, I DO!
Step Six - You walk back down the aisle as Mr. and Mrs. Gus, get in the F150 Ford Limo and go to the Town Hall.
Step Seven - you eat and smile and dance and talk to friends and family.
Step Eight - somewhere along the way make sure you invite Jesus to be a part of your family - He can make things go a whole lot better and has had a lot of experience in human problems and predicaments. He brings joy where a lot of times there is just sadness and He can make something beautiful out of what was all broken.
And those are the steps to the reception!
Dad :-)
Or were you talking about the wooden steps up to the stage?
**********************************************************
Sent: Wednesday, August 13, 2003 2:53 PM
From: Courtney
To: Dad
Subject: Re: Steps
Oh Daddy, I love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Just in case you didn't already know that!) Yes, I did mean the wooden steps for the stage!! :-)
My Truck's Emergency Brake is a Hunk of Oak
My wife and I began our married life in 1973 with a 1960 Ford Falcon as our mode of transportation. It was painted canary yellow and had one of those do-it-yourself black spray-on vinyl tops. The gas pedal was held on with a coat hanger wire, there was a hole in the floor board, and if you hit a bump too hard the driver’s side window fell off the track and disappeared down inside the door. So you always carried a pair of pliers in the glove compartment in case the window suddenly decided to open on its own – you simply grabbed the top edge of the window and yanked it back up. In Fargo, North Dakota it’s important to have your windows rolled up when it’s a minus 30 degrees. For any trip the checklist was:
Gas…yep.
Four tires…yep.
Pair of pliers…yep.
Ok we’re good to go.
Shortly after our wedding my wife drove the car to the automotive insurance place to get it insured. At a stop light the window went kerthunk. If I remember correctly it may have been snowing that day. A nice guy offered assistance. When my wife told him where she was going, he simply said, “You’re gonna insure that?”
We have been married for 33 years and now have three vehicles – one is a 2000 Nissan Sentra (driven all the time by my wife), one is a 1998 Chevy S-10 (only driven every other Sunday when the weather is nice – which isn’t too often in Duluth, MN), and the one I drive most of the time -- a 1995 Nissan pickup. A couple of days ago we went to the hospital to visit one of the church members. I was going to park on 4th Avenue East (called Cardiac Hill) but my wife advised against it (Duluth is a northern Minnesota version of San Francisco with all of its hills and steep streets). I agreed and we went to park where it was level. The emergency brake cable had broken a couple of years ago and so I haul around a piece of 4x4 oak about a foot long that serves as the “brake.” I have had to park on some pretty hairy streets and so I turn the steering wheel either all the way to the right or all the way to the left depending on the existence of a curb, get out, lock it up (who knows why), and then throw out the hunk of wood. (Just to sort of change the subject for a second…there is a restaurant out in the country about 20 miles from where we live called the Covered Wagon. When you park you pull up next to a hitching post [you know – where you tied up the horses in the old Western movies]. I have told my wife that someday I am going to tie a rope to the bumper of the car the next time we are headed to the Covered Wagon. When we get there I will get out and "tie up the car." I think it would be hilarious – she just shook her head.) As we drove home from the hospital, my wife said, “What’s that little yellow light on the dashboard next to that little red light?” I simply replied, “Oh that’s the check engine light – its nothing. It’s been coming on for three years now. And the yellow lights are not really warning lights, they’re more like suggestion lights.”
We’ve only ever had one new car (a 1985 Plymouth Horizon) and that got attacked by a deer only five months after we had it. Hit it dead center. Blam! So much for the new car. So we pretty much just buy used vehicles (and I’m not too good at dealing with car salesman. Me to the salesman: “You said your daughter doesn’t have any shoes??? Well here, how about I pay you a thousand dollars more than what the sticker price is?”)
Anyway, “stuff” rusts, rots, breaks, fades, gets stolen, loses its attraction, gets eaten by dogs, gets attacked by deer, blows up, melts, fizzles, loses it faddiness (is that a word?), etc, etc. The 1960 Ford Falcon probably met its demise several decades ago (I sold it to my sister when she needed a car – I can’t remember if I threw in the pliers). My in-immaculate-shape-only-a-few-thousand-miles-for-being-a-1998 Chevy S-10 will one day not be so immaculate. A friend gave me an old IBM ThinkPad laptop for free – it probably cost around $2,000.00 new -- my four year old grandson plays with it when he comes over. Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount, “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth where moth and rust corrupt and where thieves break through and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasure in heaven.” (Matthew 6:19-20). He also said in another place, “What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul.” (Mark 8:36).
I am not saying here that we shouldn’t take good care of our stuff. If you use your vehicle for a “dirty job” then you have a reason for it not being so clean, but having a filthy car isn’t a sign of being laid back, it’s a sign of laziness. But compared to the big picture of eternity, the scratch on the new car ain’t so important, the stain on the new couch isn't such a big deal, the antique that was broken won’t matter much in heaven. There is more important “stuff” to life. Souls are eternal and Hell is forever. Paul said in II Corinthians, “While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.” (II Cor. 4:18).
Would that God would “stamp eternity upon our eyeballs.” Seventy, eighty, ninety, even one hundred years of life is just a little blip along the scale of eternity. Make your decisions with that in mind…and above all give your life unreservedly to Jesus Christ! Don’t hesitate to ask Him to forgive your sins, to come into your heart and to become your personal Lord and Savior.
Dan Vander Ark
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