For starters, I bring up the fact that I am a huge proponent of moderation. Time and time again and in all aspects of life I see the truth and necessity of balance and moderation; finding the happy medium between two (or more) extremes. It is often an essential part of just surviving the everyday toils of that astounding experience called life. However, moderation, as splendid as it is, cannot become our be-all-end-all. A person who is perfectly moderate in every single thing is not only likely to be a very boring individual, but is also, for better or worse, nonexistent. The very characteristics that make us human often cause us to tend toward certain extremes. No one is so moderate that nothing about them favors any one thing over any other thing. Such a person would be completely indistinguishable except in their indistinguishablility, but I digress on that matter. Not only is complete moderation nigh unattainable, but it is also not all that desirable. Can we really say that all extremes are bad and should therefore be avoided? Is it wrong to be extremely kind, humble, honest, loyal, etc? Indeed, there are many cases where it is preferable to be extreme. We must also consider by what basis we determine something to be moderate or “balanced.” There isn’t always a clear standard to determine whether or not something is perfectly moderate. So moderation can, in many ways, become mere opinion and opinions are not usually the best things to build your entire framework of living upon, they tend to shift and change, thus being, on the whole, not entirely stable life-framework building material.

When I think about the person of Jesus Christ, the word moderate does not immediately come to mind, in fact it doesn’t even enter the picture. He was, undoubtedly a man of extremes. The things He said and the ways He lived were not what I would call mediocre, mild, halfway, careful, tame, or low-key. Raising the dead, walking on water, accusing the religious authority to their face, forcibly driving out moneychangers from the temple, praying so hard blood came out of his skin; these things are a bit on what I would call the extreme side. That’s not to say He wasn’t a man of peace, patience, and prayer, after all He was sleeping in the middle of a life-threatening storm and He put up with a lot of foolishness from His disciples, but even in those things His methods were far different from the norm. Of course, Jesus had a specific role that no one else would or could fulfill, but if His life was characterized by such a large number of extremes, ought not our own lives follow a similar pattern. After all, it’s hard to imagine righteous living being anything but extreme, though perhaps not in the ways we might first expect.

All that to say moderation is good, but only when taken in moderation. (egads! that is a brain-bender, try not to think about it too hard)

“Moderation in temper is always a virtue; but moderation in principle is always a vice”

Thomas Paine

There’s a thought that sometimes comes to mind when I’m in a “woe is me” sort of mood, usually when I’m feeling sorry for myself and engaging in unnecessary mopeyness. The thought is this: When I’m gone will anyone even notice? Of all the things I do there’s nothing so important in my life that I can’t be easily replaced. People will be able to go on fine without me. Sure they might be sad, but they’ll go on.

Of course thoughts like that are usually extreme and not very rational, eventually they’re discarded and forgotten for a time. This time however, I had to give pause to that thought. Hold on just one second, I thought, how is that thought in any way beneficial or scriptural?

First off, it’s incredibly self-centered, it isn’t right wanting to matter so much that people are incapacitated by your absence. Instead, I think we should be helping people so much that, rather than having to depend on us completely to get by, they will be able to continue on after we have been long gone, due in part to the aid we have offered. Also, the thought just isn’t realistic. Even if the most important human in the world died suddenly, those relying on him/her would still find a way to move on. It’s human nature, we’re built to be to adapt and continue functioning in spite of loss. Otherwise, we’d lose one significant person in our lives and be doomed. Life must go on. The sun continues to rise each day and the wind keeps sweeping its way across the globe with or without you (sorry Bono). The world doesn’t revolve around us and we shouldn’t want it to.

Obviously, there are special circumstances, but I think we can get in a dangerous place when we rely on a person or certain people so much that, were they to leave, we’d find ourselves crippled, stuck in an ongoing stasis from which we cannot escape. Our dependence should be in God. People come and go, like trains in a station. Why put all our stock in something that isn’t going to be around forever when instead we can invest in the eternal. Not that we shouldn’t invest in people or that we shouldn’t be deeply grieved when the presence of someone close to us is either significantly or completely removed from our lives. It’s hard to watch someone go whom we care about. Yet I think there is a beauty in letting go and an art in being able to move on, knowing that while people will be sad at your departure, there will be a great blessing rather than devastation in your absence .

So, if you ever find yourself having such thoughts, cast them out, for they’re founded on lies and misconceptions and are alltogether unhelpful in the evergoing battle we wage in our minds.

So, I had another writing assignment. I don’t think anyone else really finished theirs, but I figured I’d post mine up anyhow rather than letting the time spent writing it go to waste. It’s no literary masterpiece, but hopefully you can glean something useful from it

This was this prompt:

In our spiritual lives where does God end and we begin or vice versa? Feel free to explore the subject in any way you see fit. There is one catch… It needs to be written as if your audience were an 8 year old child. This could be an essay, narrative, drama, or whatever.

And now for the story:

Many years ago a teacher packed up his few belongings and journeyed from a distant land to dwell in the small village of Karikayo. Over time, this teacher became well respected and there were few villagers who did not hold him in high esteem. As word of his knowledge began to spread, even the residents of nearby villages would come to seek the aged man’s advice. He became known as Taldir the Wise and the people of Karikayo set up guards around him for his protection. They even offered to schedule his appointments for him, since he had began to attract daily crowds of visitors seeking council. This last offer he kindly refused. He had also requested that the guards be removed, since they were unnecessary. But, out of their love for him, the villagers refused to leave their sage defenseless. So he allowed the guards, provided they did not interfere with his work.

One day a brash young man attempted to make a rush past the guards towards Taldir, who had that day chosen to seat himself by the village well. The guards, undeterred, caught the man, but before they could drag him away, Taldir ordered that he be released. “I shall refuse no one who earnestly comes before me, be they young or old, wise or foolish. How shall those who do not know ever learn unless they sit in the presence of those who do know,” Taldir stated. The guards obediently let him go and the man, slowly this time but still with a boldness to his stride, approached Taldir until he was standing directly in front of the teacher, who remained calmly seated cross-legged. “Please, sit. It is more difficult to learn while standing and few things but air pass through proud ears.” With a little assistance from a guard, the young man was seated.
Again, Taldir spoke, “Now tell me what matter is of such urgency that you find it necessary to  come before me in this manner, taunting these faithful guards and throwing away caution as if it was no longer fashionable?”

A hush fell over nearby observers as the young man began to speak, “I have a question that only a wise man can answer and, hearing from many that you are wise, I traveled a great distance to meet with you. Tell me this: if God is all-powerful, as many claim that he is, then why does he require us to do anything for Him?  Surely the things he asks us to do, he can do just as well, if not better on his own. And if God is better on his own then aren’t we, being creatures made in his image, also better left to the works of our own hands, so that each deals with their own affairs as is fitting?”

Some gasped or made scolding noises at the sheer brashness of the question while others, considering it to be a fair question, looked expectantly towards the teacher. Taldir smiled warmly and brought his hands together, folding his fingers across one another. He drew in a deep breath and all who were nearby leaned in closer to hear his reply.

“There lived a small girl who, one day, decided that she wanted to grow a garden. Having seen her mom gardening before, the girl guessed that she knew enough to try it out on her own. So the girl dug a hole in the ground, dropped a small pebble in the hole, buried it and then poured water over it. Then she stood nearby to see what would grow up from the ground. To her disappointment nothing happened, even after waiting for what felt like a very long time. She began to cry and her mother, who had been watching from a distance, came to comfort her. ‘Just give it a little time’ she told her daughter, and then she picked her up and took the little girl inside. When the child had fallen asleep, the mother went back outside and dug up the hole. She then planted a seed where the pebble had been buried. The next day, the girl was very excited to discover a small leaf poking up from her little patch of dirt. She ran to tell her mom the good news and they both celebrated together. The mom then began to teach her daughter the proper methods to growing a garden. When that first plant became a flowering bush, the child plucked a few flowers from it and gave them to her mother. ‘I made this for you,’ the girl told her. Although it was just a small clump of partly wilted flowers, to the mom it might as well have been an extraordinary bouquet. She was so proud of her little girl that she swung her in the air and then covered her with hugs and kisses.”

When Taldir finished his story, many of the children and parents who had been listening smiled and clapped for him. But the young man just sat there, arms crossed, looking unimpressed. “You have not answered my question.” He said, disapproval in is voice, “Besides, once the daughter grew up, she would know how to manage a garden on her own, she wouldn’t need her mother’s help anymore.” Taldir sighed, “Perhaps. I think you should hear to this next story. Try to pay more attention this time.”
“Fine,” the young man said, “if it must be a story. But I expect this one to answer my questions. As you might have noticed, I am no longer a child and since I am an adult, stories are of little interest to me.”
“Grown up you may be, but it requires more than age and size to become an adult. Even the most mature scholar knows that there is much to be learned from the heart of a child. And what a sad day it will be when we no longer find wonder in the telling of a story. But enough, I see you grow impatient.” Taldir cleared his throat and made himself comfortable by resting his back against the stone well he had been sitting beside.

“There once was a lamb who decided to leave his pasture and go out exploring on his own. Early one evening, when he was sure no one was looking, the lamb crawled under a hole in the fence and ran off on his own. Soon he came to a river that was much too wide and deep for him to cross. The river was not a very large one, but the lamb was too small and weak to pass through it on his own. By that time it had become very dark and he was tired, so he decided to drink from the river and then get some sleep until the morning when he could hopefully find a narrow place in the river to cross over. Since it was the first time he’d ever been on his own, fear and excitement kept him awake for a little while, but eventually he was able to close his eyes and rest.
He awoke with surprise the next morning to see a fallen tree laying across the river. I’m glad I waited until daylight, I must have missed this in the dark, the lamb thought. Fortunately for the lamb, the little tree was just big enough for him to walk across it to the other side of the river. Later that day, the lamb was having a wonderful time by himself exploring the countryside when he stumbled into a glade where two wolves were laying down. They quickly noticed him and began slowly moving towards the frightened lamb with their backs crouched low to the ground, snarling hungrily with each step. The lamb was so terrified that he couldn’t move. He was sure he’d be eaten alive once the wolves reached him. Just as the wolves were getting close, they suddenly looked up and froze. Then they turned around and ran off. What luck, I must look tougher than I realized, the lamb thought to himself.
But that night he wasn’t feeling so tough. Instead, he was feeling alone, afraid, thirsty, and very cold. As he shivered in the dark, wondering if he would be able to sleep at all that night, he felt something warm around his body. This is very strange, I must be growing out my wool coat very quickly, the lamb reasoned. The warmth comforted him and he was finally able to sleep. However, when he awoke he began feeling very lost and he realized how much he missed his flock and their shepherd. I never should have left them, this was a big mistake, he thought. Then he sat on the damp ground, bleating and feeling very sorry for himself when out from behind a tree stepped his shepherd. The shepherd picked up the lamb spoke to it in his rich, comforting voice, “Do not be afraid my little lamb, I have been with you all along. I was the one who made that log bridge for you, I scared away the wolves who were going to attack you, and I covered you with my cloak when you were cold last night. And now I will take you home.” True to his word, the shepherd carried the lamb safely home and the little lamb was happy once again.”

A look of disappointment crossed the young man’s face, “I come to you in search of great wisdom and all you give me is children’s stories,” he said with disdain in in voice. Taldir shook his head, “if you cannot understand that which is clear to a child, how will the weightier things be of any use to you.?” the aged teacher asked. The young man stood up and brushed himself off, “I am leaving now, it is obvious to me that you will not be of any help, for you have neither answered my questions nor revealed anything that would pass as wisdom.” And with that he turned and left.
As the onlookers turned to watch the young man exit, Taldir spoke, “This man did not come to listen and learn, but to impress others and assure himself of his own intelligence. Yet, there is still hope for him. As a youth, I was also very proud and arrogant. It took some very difficult lessons before I learned to be otherwise. As he ages, it may be that sense will come to him and reason will teach him to consider again the stories that he has heard and the wisdom hidden in them.” Taldir sighed and considered for a moment the days of his youth. Then he straightened up stretched his old neck this way and that, and said, “Now, both young and old and all who would care to listen, gather around for I have many more stories to tell and many lessons to teach and in them you will find wisdom, if only you will allow your ears to hear and your minds to accept it.” And so they did.

I know, I know. It’s been such a long time since I’ve posted here (more than a month if you’re keeping track) it is a wonder that you haven’t given up on me completely and stopped checking in to see if I’d ever write anything again. Well sheesh people, give me a break! Work has been crazy (we just finished a major project that took three times longer to complete than was initially estimated), the weekends have been full (not that laser tag, movies, and barbeques are anything to complain about), and in general I just have a lot going on (you know how it goes). But hey, I’m back, so there’s something to put a smile on yo face.

Lately there has been a lot of talk about how we (namely Americans) have too much. An overabundance, an excess, a superfluous amount. And I’d have to agree, it’s true. I spend more money than I need to, eat more than I need to, and have much more than I need to (if only I’d write half as much as I need to). In fact, when I checked out this site: Global Rich List I found out I’m in the top 0.82% of the richest people in the world. Kinda mind boggling when you think about it. But I’ve already spoken upon such things before and I’m sure I’ll talk about them again. Instead, I want to look at the positive side of the issue.

It isn’t always wrong to want more, as long as you’re wanting more of the right thing. I’ve written previously on the importance of seeking contentment in all things, but I think it is also wise to be guarded against falling into complacency. The hunger for more has both good and bad sides. There is an art to being satisfied with what you have and yet not being being content to stop seeking more. It seems humans have an inherent desire for more, sometime with disastrous results and sometimes with great benefit. However, if given the right motives, the right drive, the right source of power and influence, it is amazing the great things we can accomplish. In fact, Ephesians 3:20,21 states:

“Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.”

I remember hearing the saying (or something close to it) that “If you want to be what you’ve never been you have to do the things you’ve never done.” Growth rarely happens by doing the same thing over and over. It’s when we push ourselves, when we strive for more, when we become more committed to the things that matter do we really allow that change to happen inside us. One way toward this goal is learning how to cultivate the things which are beneficial in our lives and to ditch the thing that aren’t. We also must obtain the wisdom to determining which is which. I don’t think we should ever stop wanting more, after all, we’ve been given a craving that can’t be satisfied on this planet. But this desire must be for the right reasons. Is it for our glory, our personal gain, or for God’s? That’s what we should consider in our ever expanding quest for more.

I hope to have the wisdom to know when to say, “I don’t need this anymore” or, “it is enough” and when to decide that something is worth pursuing for the rest of my life.

Oh yeah, happy Memorial Day. Be thankful for our soldiers. The things they’ve done are pretty remarkable and I really can’t fathom where we’d be without their sacrifices.

If you’ve known me for very long you will know that I’m a big (in appreciation and fascination, not in body weight) fan of board games. There’s a lot I could say about why they’re so great, but I’ll save it for another time. I did want to point out one thing in particular that I’ve noticed. In many games the rules include a tiebreaker, in other words some other factor by which to determine the winner of a game when two or more people are tied based on the common victory requirements. Some games even have a few tiebreakers in case the first one still doesn’t determine a winner. Eventually though, one reaches a limit to the things that can be used to break ties and, however unlikely in some games, there comes a point were players may, as one rule book puts it, “rejoice in their shared victory.” Some games don’t even have tiebreakers and commonly end in a situation where, “players can all delight in their wealth-there are several winners!”

Now I don’t know about you, but this is usually looked down upon as a flaw in a game. Few people enjoy the “there are no losers” scenario, unless of course it is a cooperative game in which everyone either wins or looses against the game system itself. In fact, games without a definite winner often seem pointless and childish. The truth of the matter is, we don’t like sharing the victory, we want to be the king of the hill, standing far above those we’ve defeated, shining in the brilliant glow of our triumphal efforts, all other noise drowned out by the cacophony of our sheer awesomeness, you get the idea.

Thankfully, God is not that way. Sure, Christ has been risen up and exalted far above all else for His mighty works. However, even though He rightfully deserves all the glory, He chooses to share it with us, though we have done practically nothing worthy of earning it. Even though we can hardly stand even the thought of letting someone else get the credit for our work, He wants us to share His victory with us. It’s like being in a big parade held in His honor and He asks us to come stand right next to Him on the main float. It’s pretty amazing when you think about it and so different from what we’re used to. That’s God for ya, always mixing it up on us.

This is one of my all-time favorite verses:

2 Corinthians 2:14 (ESV)

But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere.

My friend David decided he wanted to get a few people together for some collaborative writing and I was more than happy to jump aboard. As of now, it’s only myself, him, and one other guy (Matt), but hopefully more people will be joining. The prompt for this first one was “Dear every Christian I’ve ever known in my entire life.” You can read the other entrees (along with mine) on David’s blog here. I’m also re-posting it here. It’s partly just to add more content to my own blog, (so call me cheap and selfish) and also to make it easier to find when looking for mine specifically. ‘Nuff said, here it is:

A while back I subsribed to The Classic Tales Podcast, which, as you might have guessed, provides audio readings of classic stories. It’s a solid production and definitely worth looking into if you like that sort of thing. Since I listen to quite a few different podcasts, I didn’t get around to giving the classic tales a try until recently. I listened to the Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and Rikki-Tikki-Tavi amongst other stories. I enjoyed Rikki-Tikki a good deal more than Dr Jekyll. True, it is a children’s story, and maybe that says a lot about the kind of person I am.

Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde reminded me of why the classics are the classics and why people don’t really write that way anymore. Don’t get me wrong, it was extremely well written. However, due to the popularity of this story and its many retellings, I already had a pretty good idea of what it was about.  It’s not that the idea of a man with a split personality who finally succumbs to and is overtaken by his darker side isn’t an appealing one. In fact, I tend to like darker themes, but the entire time I was just waiting and waiting for it finally to reach the “surprising” conclusion as the story goes on and on and the characters remain in the dark, never suspecting the truth until it is far too late. It drug on unnecessarily and failed to maintain my interest. That’s not to say it was a failure (obviously it’s success proves otherwise) but it just didn’t do it for me. Perhaps I’ve heard too many similar stories (one that undoubtedly took some concepts from this one) or perhaps it was just too much like real life to seem all that fantastic, but all in all I was unimpressed and glad to be done with it. No surprisingly, Edward Hyde is nothing like the character that appears in The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.

Rikki Tikki, on the other hand, was just an all around fun story to listen to. Unlike Dr Jekyll, there was much more emphasis on the characters rather than the theme or concept of the story. Perhaps that’s why it wasn’t a problem that I also knew this story beforehand, having seen a cartoon version some time ago. I loved the adventure of it and the bold daring demeaner of Rikki Tikki himself. The story moved along at a good pace, never settling for dull moments. Something about wildlife, and the conflicts that arise in nature really sparks my interest. In one sense you have animals who are naturally friends or enemies opperating by instinct to survive and in another sense it is a simple tale of good vs evil. I also enjoyed the interaction between human and animal throughout the story. Sure, you won’t find anything terribly deep and moving in it, but not every story has to be profound and mysterious to be good. There are undoubtedly some strong spiritual applications in both stories (probably more in Dr Jekyll) but that doesn’t necessarily make a story more enjoyable. So that’s two thumbs (or claws) up for the speedy and clever mongoose.

It is said that the eyes are the windows to the soul (though I’m having a difficult time finding out who originally said it). If that be the case, then one of the windows to my soul is blurry and reddish. It appears I have pink eye or something like it. I woke up with it this morning and it hasn’t gotten better.  Naturally, I’ve drawn some spiritual application from the experience: much like my efforts in dealing with sin, I tried to clean it up as best I could and eventually convince myself that it really isn’t that bad. But when another person sees it they can immediately identify that something is not right. And I hear it is highly contagious. I tried wearing sunglasses, thus covering it up, hiding it from the casual observer. But even if no one can see it, the problem is still there. Looks like I’ll need to find the remedy from an outside source. I sure hope these drops help…

In other happier news, I had lunch with one of my favorite tachers from college. He’s a great guy and I hadn’t seen him since my graduation. I really enjoyed the time spent talking about what was going on in our lives with someone I respect so highly. It’s people like him who give me some hope for the American education system.