Hurry, hurry, hurry!

Yeah, I know. With only a week to go before Christmas 2011, that was probably a slightly mean thing to say, right? But hey, I’m bad that way.

Still, I’m wondering if more than a few of you are gettin’ a mite, um, “wound up” as we wind up these last few days before Christmas.

I mean, when you’re getting’ ready for the holidays, there’s no shortage of, well, stuff to do, right? (Especially if you have kids and/or a big family.) Things like desperately searching high and low for those last-minute presents, cookin’ the turkeys, hams, and pies (particularly the pies!); decoratin’ the house, the tree and the dog; all that house cleaning… yeah, I’m sure the list could go on for quite a while.

Hey, I’ll be the first to admit it can be downright easy to sorta forget the reason why all this hustle and bustle exists in the first place, y’know? No, it’s not because of an artificial advertising push by manufacturers of the latest electronic gizmos, or a conspiracy to sell more greeting cards, or even (if you’re a kid) just an excuse to skip school for a few weeks. Nope (sound of buzzer) it’s none of the above.

The thing is, when you get right down to it the facts are pretty plain, my friends; there is only ONE reason there’s a Christmas at all, and it’s this: Jesus really IS the reason for this season. In the midst of all the things you may or may not have to do, it pays to remember that one simple detail. Just sayin’.

So…

I’d like to contribute my two cents’ worth of help to y’all for the rest of this week. Oh, it’s not much; just a little something to sorta calm the waters, so to speak. It comes in the form of a truly beautiful Christmas song called “Still, Still, Still”.

Now, unlike most Christmas songs that celebrate the birth of Jesus, this particular song is actually about the night before He is born. It brings to mind the comparative silence of the world just before the grand announcement made by the angels when Jesus actually was born.

Take a moment, if you will, to stop (please don’t try this when you’re, y’know, driving!) and imagine a quiet, peaceful winter night outside of ancient Jerusalem. The hills are mostly silent while practically everyone in the world, save the shepherds, are asleep. In the heavens, a single star becomes brighter, and brighter, and even brighter still. Then hear the words (for the full effect, scroll up and click on the video play button, then scroll back down and read these words as they’re sung):

Still, still, still,
One can hear the falling snow.
For all is hushed,
The world is sleeping,
Holy Star its vigil keeping.
Still, still, still,
One can hear the falling snow.

Sleep, sleep, sleep,
‘Tis the eve of our Savior’s birth.
The night is peaceful all around you,
Close your eyes,
Let sleep surround you.
Sleep, sleep, sleep,
‘Tis the eve of our Savior’s birth.

Dream, dream, dream,
Of the joyous day to come.
While guardian angels without number,
Watch you as you sweetly slumber.
Dream, dream, dream,
Of the joyous day to come.

Wonderful, isn’t it? Hearing that song, I can actually sense a feeling of peace, stillness, and rest overtaking me. That, my friends, is my prayer and wish for you this week.

Prepare yourself, world; Jesus is coming!

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Video: Still, Still, Still, by Mannheim Steamroller

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Ever feel like you’ve missed the road to prosperity? Yeah, sometimes it feels that way to me, too. In fact, once I had the chance to make the turn – but passed it by. (Cue rimshot: ba-da-bing!

(In case you’re wondering, the road to Prosperity is in South Carolina, off Interstate 26, not too far from Columbia. Just sayin’.)

Yeah, I know. Sadly, these days quite a few folks are lookin’ for that opportunity to come knocking on our doors. And I’m not talking about having the next winning lottery ticket come floating in the window, either – although it makes for a nice daydream… No, they’re actually looking for the chance to, y’know do something.

See, I know what it’s like to have things swept out from under you; things like a job, a bank account, and perhaps even a direction in life. More times than I’d like to admit. But hey, who ever said life is supposed to be fair? It happens. The most important thing, though, is what happens after that. You know what I mean, right? It’s what comes next that really defines who you are.

So, just for the fun of it, let’s take a quickie test. Let’s say that life has suddenly taken a turn for the worse and the giant bluebird of happiness has just, ahem, pooped on your parade, if you know what I mean.

Would you:

a)   throw a tantrum
b)   blame “the system”
c)   demand somebody, y’know, do something
d)  try again, or try something else.

Now, chances are, if you are taking the time to read this, I would be willing to bet your answer is very likely d) try again, or try something else. Well… I’m afraid you’d only be part right. The real answer is e) all of the above. (Yes, it was a trick question. Please don’t sue me. I have nothing.)

In fact, every time I’ve experienced a sudden change in fortunes (meanin’ a downward change, of course – it’s not likely many folks would be too upset about an upward change in fortune), I’ve had to work my way through pretty much all of those reactions. (Surely you remember the stages of grief?) Hey, it’s the way we’re made, after all.

But the problem isn’t the struggle we experience while shuffling through those times. Nope, that’s not the point at all. After all, if you’re, y’know, alive, then it’s pretty much a given that life will occasionally hand you lemons. No, the thing that separates us from the herd is what we do choose to do with those lemons. And if you don’t make it all the way from a) through d) and on to e) – well, you missed it.

I gotta admit; it’s very, very tempting to sorta “hole up” at any one of those early stages. After all, wallowing in self-pity does bring its own strange kind of satisfaction. The only problem is, it gets you absolutely nowhere. You can’t actually solve anything while you’re there. I know; I’ve tried.

Nope, the only thing that really works is to get out there and try again. Or, if you’ve tried whatever it is you’ve been trying enough, then go for something different. (You remember the definition of insanity, don’t you?) Trust me; it’s the only thing that really works.

So, will you finally make it to Prosperity – or at least, on the road to Prosperity? Alas, that’s not for me to say. But I will say this: you’ll never make it if you don’t try for it.

I’m just sayin’.

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Since this is the first post of a brand new year, it’s only fitting to first reflect a bit on things just passed before we take a look towards the future, don’cha think? Tradition, you know.

So let’s start with a little, um, thing that happened just last week.

Lights! Action!

If you’re like many of us, you’ve recently celebrated the birth of Christ on December 25th. (I know it may come as a shocker to some, but He really IS the reason for the season, y’know. Just sayin’.) AND, at least here in the “Western” world, today marks the first day of a brand new year. (Yeah, I know the Asian world won’t celebrate New Year’s for a few more weeks. “Close enough”, I say.)

Anyhoo, I don’t know about you, but during the Christmas season some of the things Mrs. MZM and I look forward to the most are the Christmas music, the special Christmas events, and especially the Christmas Pageants, particularly at our local churches, large and small. I’m tellin’ ya; we’ve seen (and been a part of) some that are as good as or better than anything you’d find on Broadway. (Well, at least off-Broadway quality, anyway.)

In fact, we went to one of those “big production” pageants just before Christmas at a large church near us. It was quite a show, I’ll tell ya! The highlight was, during one musical number commemorating the arrival of the Wise Men (or, as I prefer to call ‘em, the “Wise Guys”), the three of them rode in on genuine, real live camels and an elephant! Yup – an elephant strolled right across the stage. Wow. (The engineer in me couldn’t help but wonder if they’d performed a weight distribution calculation on that wooden floor. No worries, though; nothing collapsed. But I digress.)

The elephant, of course, was the most impressive part of the entire pageant. He strolled majestically to the center of the stage like the king of all land creatures that he was, and then paused for his rider to disembark. As soon as that was accomplished, he performed for us a little, raising his trunk and one leg towards the audience as if to say, “hey lookit me!” I suppose it’s the elephant equivalent of a curtsey. The audience was very appreciative; it earned him a round of applause for a great job. Way to go, Bubba!

Gravity – “It’s the Law!”

Well, that’s when it happened.

After our friend the elephant little gave his little performance, his handler gave him his cue and he headed off towards the exit at stage right. Unfortunately, as he turned around it became obvious for all to see that his leg and trunk weren’t the, er, only things he’d raised, if you get my meanin’. Yep, that’s right – he had his tail raised too. And if you’ve ever been around animals of any kind, you know what that means, right? Yessir – when that tail goes up – something, er, else generally comes down. It’s like, gravity. And yep, that’s exactly what happened!

There came a collective “uh-oh” from the audience as, at right about the same moment we all realized just exactly what was about to happen. That poor elephant! Instead of applause for a job well done, this particular job instead earned a clearly audible gasp (and more than a few horrified screams) and a resounding “eww-yuk!” from everyone. I’m tellin’ ya; for once Mrs. MZM and I were thrilled – absolutely thrilled – to be at the back of the auditorium!

Y’know, it’s a cryin’ shame, too. All the work and time those folks put into that production – the writing, the music, the rehearsals, the costumes – it was a gargantuan effort, to be sure. But the sad fact is (at least for those of us who attended this one particular performance), ten years from now when we recall this pageant, this is what we’ll remember!

Probably Not What You Expected

So along about now you may be asking, “Uh, what the heck has that previous – and somewhat disgusting – story have to do with the New Year?” Well, that’s a doggone good question!

Here’s the thing.

Over the years I’ve jokingly said many times the phrase I plan to have emblazoned on my tombstone when I kick the ol’ bucket is, “Y’know, things didn’t quite work out like I’d planned!” (Actually, I’m only half-joking.)

Still, it never ceases to amaze me how differently things always seem to work out from what I, in my mind at least, think should be the “ideal”. You know what I mean, right? It’s been my experience that, no matter how well I’ve mapped out my future, there’s always something – or someone – that comes along and throws a monkey wrench in the works; stuff I simply can’t plan for.

Let’s see… I know there’s a technical term for it… wait, wait… it’s coming clearer… Ah yes! I think it’s called, uh, life.

Plan Accordingly

All I’m sayin’ is, hey, it’s a brand new year! It’s really all right to make your plans. After all, plans are good. Plans are necessary. Plans help keep things on track. In fact, it’s sorta like that image up there at the top of this post I titled “The Uncertain Future”. It’s a somewhat blurry photo of a corridor stretching out ahead. You can make out the walls, the floor, the line of light fixtures above, leading off into a possibly bright future. But at the same time – it ain’t all that clear, either.

Yeah, it’s sorta like that.

Hey, just remember this one thing: if you really want to be able to face the future in style, then Bubba, in all your planning, don’t forget to make allowances for life.

Yep; that’s the way to face the future, my friends. Be flexible when it comes to the unexpected. It’s the only way you’ll be able to roll with it and keep on keepin’ on, y’know? Just like that pageant. Did the unfortunate “elephant incident” stop the show? Not on your life! Folks just kept a careful eye on where they were steppin’ – and then kept right on walkin’.

Hey, I’ve known folks who seemed to know (or at least claimed to know) exactly where they were goin’ and what they’d be doin’ in the years ahead… and I gotta tell ya; folks like that irritate me to no end. Oh, it’s nothing personal, mind you. It’s just that after fifty-mumblemumble years, I’ve come to the sobering conclusion that there is absolutely nothing carved in stone about the future.

And there’s the lesson for the day year.

Happy New Year and a tip o’ the hat to ya!

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Wow, I bet that got your attention, didn’t it?

The Mrs. and I were checkin’ out a junk store antique shop a few weeks ago, and I happened to run across a pile of old magazines. Idly flipping through them, I was rather taken aback by the title of the main article on this cover of Look Magazine, dated February 2, 1960:

“SHOULD A GIRL BE FIRST IN SPACE?”

Well, I guess back then you could never accuse magazine editors of bein’, y’know, subtle. Surely, I thought to myself, these guys have learned something over the years.

Don’t Call Me Shirley!

A quick Wikipedia search (altogether now: what did we ever do before the internet came along?) revealed that lady on the cover is none other than Betty Skelton, one of the most amazing women of the day ever.

I had to chuckle a bit at that word, ‘girl’, though. I rather imagine if you called her that today, you’d better keep an eye over your shoulder because she’d likely climb into one of the 10 corvettes she used to set speed records with and lay a few track marks across your face. Just sayin’.

Although the whole article is definitely worth a read (it won’t take long, I promise), the opening summary quite succinctly says a lot: “Betty Skelton Frankman Erde (Note: link to Wikipedia article) (born June 28, 1926) is a retired land speed record car driver and acrobatic airplane pilot who set 17 aviation and automobile records, was known as “the First Lady of Firsts”, and helped create opportunities for women in aviation, auto racing, astronautics and advertising.”

Now there’s a summary for ya! In other words, she gave new meaning to the term “Fast Lady”! And, although she underwent the exact same training the Mercury astronauts went through (it was done at the request of Look Magazine specifically for this issue), she was never actually an astronaut. Which, if you think about it, is a sad commentary on the Way Things Were at the time.

On the other hand, it does bring up the subject of… barriers.

Barriers: Some Real and Some… Not So Much

Unfortunately, there were barriers to women back then that even one as talented and accomplished as Betty couldn’t break down. On the other hand (where did I get all these hands?), were I a bettin’ man, I’d bet you, oh, about a bazillion donuts she was a factor in the eventual acceptance of women in the Astronaut Corps (and a lot of other places, too).

Nevertheless, the wiki article did get me to thinkin’ (sound of grinding gears)…

When I was a kid, there were a lot of things I couldn’t do. You remember what it was like, don’cha? For instance (just to name three) I couldn’t drive a car (I was too young), I couldn’t understand physics (I hadn’t accumulated enough scientific knowledgeable) and, once I got a car, I couldn’t get a date (sadly, I had little or no social skills luck whatever with the fairer half of the population *sigh*).

See, some barriers are truly, well, for lack of a better term, real. Age, for example. In that case, there’s nothing you can do about that kind of barrier except wait for it to fall in its own good time. Hey, I had to grow up eventually, right? (Well, there were a few major boners I pulled when I was young that probably had my parents wonderin’ about that one. But I digress.)

On the other hand, many other kinds of barriers (such as that lack of knowledge I mentioned above) are more a product of how I thought of myself. Once again, though, how to overcome such a barrier was obvious: I needed to work harder and learn more! In other words, it was up to me.

Where’s That Barrier Now?

Over the course of my life many other barriers have fallen, too. For instance, I used to think I couldn’t write. Well, as I’ve discovered over the last few years, obviously that’s not a problem anymore. Although it didn’t happen overnight, with much time, effort, and the sweat of my brow, I now claim to be a writer because, well, I write, right?

But here’s the thing. If I were, for instance, to still insist I couldn’t write… Well, what would have happened is that particular barrier, which may have once been real, if you get my meanin’, is now simply imagined. See the difference? The fact that the barrier once actually existed always made a great excuse. Hey, I could always claim forces outside my control, y’know? (sound of millions of us shouting, “It’s not my fault!”) But now that it’s gone, well, why would I want to leave it hangin’, if you know what I mean?

The good news, though, is lots of other use-to-be-barriers are gone, too. The question, though, is, have I been paying attention? That leads me to another question: I wonder what other barriers aren’t there anymore?  Which of course leads up that all important final follow-up question: What barriers used to hold me back but now are gone and I now longer have excuse?

I wonder… what barriers used to hold you back – but aren’t there any more?

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Of Boats and Anchors… and Hope

One of the great things about the Easter season, particularly in the Christian world, is that it delivers a wonderful promise of hope. Hey, it’s the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, after his death on the cross over 2,000 years ago.

Jesus had just claimed victory over one of those things we all face sooner or later: death. Now that’s something worth celebrating, wouldn’t ya think?

But as I contemplated that blessed event this past week, I found my thoughts unexpectedly snagged on that little four-letter word, ‘hope’. I began to wonder: is my definition of ‘hope’ the same as yours?

Call me crazy, but I think it’s a very important question – critical, almost. After all, one of the main problems with any given communication is the words used may not necessarily mean the same to the speaker as to the hearer (or in this case, the writer to the reader).

So, let’s think about the word ‘hope’ for few minutes, and I’ll start with this simple question: What does the word ‘hope’ mean to you?

Common Definitions

I’ll tell ya; we’ve certainly heard it tossed around quite a bit these last few years, haven’t we? As a matter of fact, it became the mainstay of a certain politician’s political campaign as far back as three years ago. (Ironically enough though, these days it’s become the rallying cry of the opposition as well – but I digress.)

Just for fun, I checked several online dictionaries and came up with a few definitions (italics added by yours truly for emphasis):

• a specific instance of feeling hopeful; “it revived their hope of winning the pennant”
• the general feeling that some desire will be fulfilled; “in spite of his troubles he never gave up hope”
• promise: grounds for feeling hopeful about the future; “there is little or no promise that he will recover”
• expect and wish; “I trust you will behave better from now on”; “I hope she understands that she cannot expect a raise”
• be optimistic; be full of hope; have hopes; “I am still hoping that all will turn out well”

One of the things you’ll notice from all of these definitions (and there were many, many more, all of them pretty much in a similar vein) is the uncertainty in all of them. I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about it or not, but most of the time when folks use the word these days, hope is actually nothing more than a wish – albeit possibly a very powerful one.

Now I don’t mind tellin’ ya; I have a real problem with that. Why? Well, it has to do with this particular passage from the Bible – Hebrews, chapter 6 to be exact. Here’s a portion of two verses, 18 and 19:

“…we who have taken refuge would have strong encouragement to take hold of the hope set before us. This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast…” (NASB) (emphasis mine)

(Note from the Proprietor: this section is part of a much longer discourse the writer of Hebrews gives regarding the promises of God; nevertheless, they illustrate the point I want to make.)

If you’ll think about it for a bit, you’ll notice that word ‘hope’, as used by the writer (most folks think it was the Apostle Paul, but we don’t know for sure), is described as “an anchor of the soul”, right? Now, I don’t know about you, but that certainly leads me to think that ‘hope’ is certainly a lot more than just a fervently-held wish, wouldn’t ya say?

In fact, when I think of the word hope, I’m always reminded of… this boat. Is that weird? (Don’t answer that!)

Allow me to explain.

A Quick Boating Lesson

Some years ago, during a moment of insanity (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it), Mrs. MZM and I bought a sailboat. Oh, she was a beaut, I’ll tell ya! She was a cute little 25-footer, complete with a trailer so we could take it to different lakes near where we lived at the time. (At least, that was the plan.)

Anyway, in order to learn proper seamanship Mrs. MZM and I decided to enroll in a local boating course (something I highly recommend for all boaters – if not for your own sake, then for the rest of us out there on the water with you).

We learned, among other things, the fundamentals of navigation (admittedly not too difficult when you’re on a small lake), and how to tie about a hundred different knots. (Do you know how to make a “bowline on a bight”? Hey, we do! Well, we did – I’m afraid it’s been a while). Finally, we learned about proper anchoring techniques.

OK, for that last one, although there’s all kinds of anchor types for different conditions, there’s an easy rule of thumb: generally speaking, you need an anchor rope that’s seven times longer than the depth of the water. Now, at first blush, that may sound like a lotta rope (small boats use rope; chains are reserved for the big boys) but trust me, it’s not.

See, it’s like this: once your anchor is firmly planted on the bottom of a lake, river or bathtub, that length of rope gives your anchorage a certain resiliency. That’s because as it stretches out to its full length, the line sags a bit between the boat and the ground. This lets the rope act exactly like a shock absorber, preventing the anchor from being pulled out every time your boat goes up and down on the waves.

Now here’s the important part: if the anchor rope is too long, your boat becomes unstable; if it’s too short it will probably pull the anchor from the bottom and cast you loose in a storm. Definitely not a good thing!

Anyway, when I think of ‘hope’, I always recall that lesson. See, proper anchoring technique boils down to this: to do its job properly, the rope needs to connect to the anchor in a way that provides enough flexibility to handle the stormy waves.

So how does that apply to ‘hope’, you ask? Hey, I’m glad you asked!

Four Key Elements

Recall with me those Bible verses I mentioned earlier, particularly the phrases I emphasized in bold: “take hold of that hope” and “an anchor of the soul”. Now let’s consider for a few minutes. Notice, if you will, four things: the phrase “take hold of”, and the words hope, anchor and soul. Also note the relationship between these four elements.

Now imagine if you will (warning: metaphor alert!), your soul is a boat, floating out there on the waters of life. Sometimes it’s smooth waters and clear sailing; sometimes it can get pretty stormy, right?

Now, when you’re caught out there on the water when things start to get a little rough, experts will tell you that if at all possible, the safest thing to do is throw out the anchor and ride it out. Tryin’ to get back to the dock in rough weather can lead to disastrous consequences. (I happen to know this firsthand, as a matter of fact – but that’s another story.)

However, if you don’t use the right length of rope to connect to (to “take hold of”) the anchor, well, you could just be wastin’ your time! As I said before: too short and it won’t grip the bottom; too long, and you still get tossed all over the place – and may even capsize!

I love the fact that hope is described as an anchor for the soul. It’s a  wonderful explanation of how the word ‘hope’ is actually much more than just a wish. In reality, ‘hope’ is something you can count on with complete assurance. What’s more; in order to be truly effective, we have to take hold of that hope, just as the rope connects the boat to the anchor.

What Does It All Mean?

So what does all that mean, anyway?

Well, take the followers of Jesus, for instance, specifically the Apostles (all except Judas, who at this point was “out of the picture”, if you get my meanin’) on the night of his arrest by the Romans. All during Jesus’ ministry on Earth, these guys walked with Him, listened to the stories and parables He spoke, and witnessed the miracles He performed. All told, they spent three years of their lives with Him.

Now, after all that time you’d think the hope they placed in Jesus would be pretty sure, wouldn’t you? So what happened? On that fateful night, instead of sticking around, they ran for their lives!

See, the problem wasn’t that the object of their hope that was flawed. After all, Jesus, the perfect Son of God, was (and still is, for that matter) the best of all possible anchors. No, the problem was they had failed to take hold of that hope. It was their connection to their anchor that was faulty.

Now, take a look at how the Apostles acted after Jesus’ resurrection. The Bible and history tell us every single one of them became men of such unshakable and formidable Faith that persecution, torture, and even death couldn’t sway them from their new life’s purpose: to tell the world what happened.

For them, their hope had indeed become “an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast”.

Hope, the Anchor of the Soul

Anyway, that’s why I have a problem with the way most folks use that word ‘hope’. As you can see, it’s not just a desire, a feeling, or a fervently-held wish. Nope; ‘hope’ is something solid and dependable; something you can count on.

That’s why the celebration of Easter offers so much hope – because Jesus is One you can truly count on!

Hey, a big ol’ tip o’ the hat to y’all, and have a great Easter, y’hear?

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The Promise and the Gift

There’s something really special about the promise of a gift, isn’t there?  Especially when it’s something you’ve really been looking forward to. You know what I mean, right? The comforting assurance, the delicious anticipation… and then finally getting that (fill in the blank here) you’ve been waiting for.

But… what if that “getting” part is delayed a bit? There’s nothing so agonizing, is there, as that wait for something you know you’re going to get – but haven’t yet.

All I Wanted For Christmas

Back when I was a little kid there was a certain Christmas gift (a race-car set) I’d had my eye on. You remember what that’s like, right? Starting somewhere around, oh, mid-July, I casually mentioned it to my parents to make sure they knew exactly what I wanted. At least, er, 294 times a week.

Plus, practically once a week (OK, twice… or maybe three or four times) I made sure Mom or Dad found the toy catalog lying around the house, “accidentally” fallen open to the exact page detailing the object of my desire (and conveniently circled, of course). I’m tellin’ ya, when it came to covering all the bases, I left no stone unturned! I even arranged for a friend to mention, in their presence, how they were sure they were getting’ something similar.

I’m tellin’ ya; I was devious smart, I was!

A Promise Was a Promise

Finally, the impromptu marketing campaign bore fruit: my Mom, after enduring probably the umpteenth millionth carefully-arranged “hint”, finally broke down and said two words I’d been waiting to hear: “We’ll see.” I was ecstatic!

Now, you may be thinkin’ to yourself, but that didn’t sound all that reassuring, am I right? But when it came to official pronouncements from my parents, I knew from experience that “We’ll see” was code for “You got it!” My spirits lifted to stratospheric heights.

For the rest of the year, I made sure nothing happened to mess up my chances. I scrupulously performed all my chores (that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it), ate all my vegetables (well, everything except the broccoli; no force on earth could make me do that), and made sure our cat and dog were clean, brushed, well-fed and had shiny teeth and fresh, minty breath. I’m tellin’ ya; I was the picture of a truly deserving fellow! And besides – a promise was a promise, right?

Was It Something I Did – or Didn’t Do?

The fateful Day crept closer and closer with all the swiftness of a runaway snail (you know how it always seems to take forever when you’re a kid), and once the Christmas tree was up I kept an eye out for one particular box. The days slipped by, but alas, it didn’t show.

Doubt crept in. Where was it? I wondered. Had my parents NOT bought it for me? Were they sold out? Or horror of horrors, had there been a strike at the plant and they no longer made ‘em? (It’s amazing what an overactive imagination can come up with, isn’t it?)

Christmas Eve arrived, and still – no box. I was crushed. And, although I did my best to hide it, that night as we opened our brightly-wrapped gifts, I have to admit to a sense of disappointment as my race-car set wasn’t there. I mean after all, they promised!

I know, I know; I should have been grateful for the gifts I did get. And don’t get me wrong; I was! After all, I had parents who loved me, actual gifts to call my own – I mean, by anyone’s measure I was truly rich! But still… as a kid, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was something I’d done, or forgotten to do. I remember thinking, Maybe I hadn’t been good enough.

One Last Gift

Later, after all the gifts had been opened, I put on my best face and thanked everyone for the gifts I did get. I had just given my parents a hug and was heading for bed when my Dad suddenly sat up and pointed over to a corner of the room, an innocent expression on his face. “Hey, what’s that over there?”

I turned and looked and, to my astonishment, there was a box in the corner that hadn’t been there before! (I know now my Dad sneaked it in while I wasn’t looking, but at the time, it was as if it had appeared by magic.) My little eyes got about as big as saucers as I disbelievingly stumbled over and picked it up. Sure enough; it was just what I’d wanted – the race-car set! To say my little heart was thrilled is a complete understatement.

In moments I forgot all those nagging self-doubts as I gleefully hugged my Mom and Dad, thanking them profusely for the one thing I’d wanted – and in the process, finding out that the shape of the world was, indeed, right.

The Best Gift of All

You know, when I read the Christmas story in the Bible (it’s in the book of Luke, chapters 1 and 2 if you’d like to read it for yourself), I often wonder if that’s just a tiny little bit how the Jews must have felt. I mean, over the course of thousands of years, they clung to a promise: the promise of a Savior, the Messiah. The promise had been given by God himself, sometimes directly, and sometimes through His prophets. And after all, a promise from God, well, that’s something you can pretty much take to the bank, right?

But as year after year passed by, they found themselves ending every year with a sigh and the same sad thought: Is Messiah here yet? No? Well, maybe next year…

The thing is, it’s so easy to forget one tiny little detail: in God’s eyes, timing is everything. The prophets, even as they joyfully proclaimed God’s promise to His people, understood that certain events had to fall into place first. But still, what seemed like a long delay caused even the most faithful of God’s chosen to wonder if, maybe, just maybe – they hadn’t been faithful enough.

And then one day a simple priest named Zacharias was given a remarkable message while serving in the Temple – his aged wife was having a son! And not just any son – but the forerunner of the Messiah! Not long afterwards, the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and joyfully announced she would give birth to that very Messiah! At long last, the promise was being fulfilled: the promise and the Gift of God – the Messiah – was actually here!

Do you think his doubts, his fears and his worries about God’s promises quickly vanished -quickly replaced by complete and utter joy? I’d have to say… yes!

The Promise and the Gift

That all happened nearly 2,000 years ago, and the world has never been the same, y’know?

There’s still more promises waitin’, aren’t there? Especially my favorite one: His promise to return. Oh, I know; year after year passes, and I find myself saying, like the Jews did every year, “Maybe next year…” But I’m reminded of how Zacharias must have felt. His great hope, long delayed – well, it was discouraging, sure. But his hope wasn’t founded on just any promise – it was the promise of God Himself.

So next time you think about God’s promises, and how they may seem, at least to you, a bit delayed – try to imagine the joy that’s coming when His promise is finally fulfilled. I’ll tell ya; it’s gonna to be one spectacular party!

Have a wonderful and blessed Christmas, y’all!

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OK, I know you were expecting to see an announcement about this month’s What I Learned From…” groupwrite project here today. Actually, I did too. I mean, ever since starting these things back in May of ’07 (practically prehistoric times on the Internet!) we’ve had a new one every month like clockwork.

But… well, sometimes stuff just happens, y’know?

As a matter of fact, this week I’m preparing to go away for awhile. And not just away – far away. (And don’t let me hear the sound of cheering here! Just sayin’.)

Yep, as a matter of fact I’ll be completely out of touch. Well, at least out of Internet range, anyway. But don’t worry, I’m not on the lam or anything. I haven’t been abducted by government agents (not yet anyway) or aliens. And yes, I’ll be back soon. Try not to let your disappointment enthusiasm show too much.

Where am I going, you ask? Well, as you can see from this handy image I created, it’s to a small municipality called Pedra Branca, located in northeast Brazil. (The town name means, “white rock” in Portuguese.) As a matter of fact, it’s so far out-of-the-way, Wikipedia has virtually nothing on it. It’s located somewhere near these coordinates: 7º04’03.06″S and 40º30’00.49″W. Pop that in your magic teleportation machine and drop by for a visit, won’t you? Bring some ice.

Actually, I’ll be part of a team of 17 wonderful folks who are there to build a church for a small congregation. Which is kinda ironic, considering my, er, “carpentry skills”. (I put that in quote marks for a reason, if you get my meanin’. But don’t tell anyone, ‘K?) Nevertheless, it’s going to be a lot of fun working with ‘em.

What’s more, we’re going to build an entire church in just 6 days! (How hard could it be? After all, God created an entire cosmos in six days. We’re just constructing the one building.)

We’re leaving this Friday, November 6 (that’s in 2009, in case you read this post in the future – or the past, for that matter), and we’ll be back on Sunday, November 15 (although I probably won’t be, y’know, awake, until a few days later. Not to worry; I expect to take lots of photos and will no doubt have plenty of stories about the experience in the days to come. Lots of things to tell about and lessons learned, I’m sure.

Y’all play nice while I’m gone, ‘K?

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Wandering around Discovery Green Park in downtown Houston one morning a few weeks ago, I was not surprised to find every single park bench had a dedication of some kind. You know what I mean, right? Along the lines of, “In memory of…”, or something similar.

Hey, it’s a time-honored way of remembering those who’ve come before us, and perhaps may no longer be with us. I often wonder what stories are contained within those few brief words.

However, as I was about to leave the park, I ran across this one, in which a slightly different sentiment is expressed: MAKE EVERY MOMENT COUNT.

I’m tellin’ ya; have no idea who the Reckling family is (all 46 of ‘em; yeesh, can you imagine the run on the bathroom in the mornings?), but I’ll tell ya; I am now a big fan!

Yessir, now that’s a sentiment that gets the ol’ ticker turnin’ over, ain’t it? I gotta say, as a kick-start to the day, it was a heckuva great one!

So allow me to pass it on to y’all today – along with a big ol’ tip o’ the hat!

MAKE EVERY MOMENT COUNT

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[Warning: Slight political rant here today.]

Light.

It’s one of those things we can’t do without, y’know? Over the centuries of human existence, light has become culturally synonymous with enlightenment, clarity, and all things positive.

Darkness, on the other hand, is equated with fear, obfuscation, and secrets.

Maybe that’s because light is so useful in revealing that which is not clearly seen. For instance…

Early Morning in Downtown Houston

I was downtown Houston a few weeks ago for a seminar. It was on the 4^th floor in a rather nice hotel next to the Convention Center (that unusual-looking building you see in this photo).

Since the traffic situation was a big fat unknown to me, I decided to go fairly early. (I live in Tomball, a small town on the outskirts of NW Houston – a drive of about 40 miles.) As usual, leaving earlier meant ‘way less traffic, so that was good. On the other hand, I got there so early it was still about an hour and a half before the seminar started.

To kill some time I spent an hour or so watching the sun rise and shooting a few photos in Discovery Green Park, a small park right across the street from the hotel. (You’ll no doubt hear more about the Park in future posts, but if you’re interested, you can check out some of the photos I took here.)

Anyway, just before the seminar started, I was helping myself to something from the breakfast buffet (don’t worry; it was healthy stuff – promise!) when I happened to glance out the window. Or to be more painfully accurate, I glanced at the window.

Yuck!

I mean to tell ya; it was disgusting! It looked like… well, forget the descriptive; you can see for yourself. The morning sunlight had dramatically illuminated the dirt on this window to the point where it was almost all I could see!

Needless to say, if you folks from the hotel staff are listening, I think you might want to invest in a bottle of Windex and a big ol’ bucket of elbow grease. (There’s even a convenient ledge upon which to stand – just, um,  don’t step back to admire your work! Just sayin’.)

The Power of Light

Yep; no doubt about it, light can be a pretty powerful tool when it comes to revealing stuff.

You can use light to find something lost. The other day, Mrs. MZM dropped a tiny little pill on the rug in our bathroom. Now, you’d think something like that would be pretty easy to find, right? I mean, the rug ain’t that big! But no, because of its color, it simply blended into the rug. So I turned on a flashlight and held it down low, parallel to the floor. Sure enough, the shadow of the pill gave it away! Voila!

Have you ever tried to convince someone to do something – but it was based on, perhaps, shaky logic? No need to raise your hand, my friends; we’ve all done it, haven’t we? I mean, from childhood (it wasn’t me, Mom!) it’s been a long succession of attempts to convince folks I knew what I was talkin’ about.

And what about (sound of terrified scream) politics? How many times has one politician after another made a statement – or ten – that simply didn’t hold up under the application of a little light on the subject? I mean, what’s with that, anyway? And what’s even sillier – they actually get upset when you do it, too! As if they were tryin’ to, y’know, put something over on us…

I mean, take the fracas over Health Care that’s goin’ on here in the U.S. (please!) You’ve got folks on both sides talkin’ as loud as they can, tryin’ to convince you they’re right and the other guy is wrong. Hey, I say we drag out the light and let’s take a look at it!

Does it do this, or that, or even that other thing? With just a little examination, we can find out for ourselves just what it says. Why be afraid of reading it, y’know? And why do they object to us reading it, I wonder?

All I’m sayin’ is, light can be a most powerful tool when it comes to discovering something fundamental – like the truth. And when folks start objecting to its use, well Bubba, don’cha find yourself wonderin’ just what exactly they’ve got to hide?

I’m just sayin’.

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… that is the question, isn’t it?

In fact, it may even be the question of the ages, wouldn’t you say? What, exactly, do you want to be? (In my opinion, it doesn’t matter if you’re grown up or not – or even planning to – hey, it’s a pertinent question for whoever you are, right now.)

As many of you may know, a few weeks ago I joined the several millions of Americans (literally) who have lost their jobs due to the condition of the economy. (I can’t begin to estimate how many have lost theirs worldwide.) In fact, this year alone I lost my job twice! Shucks. Alas. Dang.

I’m tellin’ ya; it’s takin’ a near-superhuman effort not to turn that into a political comment. But not today. (sound of big sighs of relief) But rather than just rant about that, it did bring up an interesting question. Now I’m sorta thinkin’ to myself, What, indeed, do I really want to be, anyway?

Oh, don’t get me wrong; as to my profession, well, I’m certainly a well-qualified Project Engineer. (That’s someone who manages either one or more “small” projects, or bite-sized chunks of much larger projects. Note: “small”, in this case, can be more-or-less defined as “less than $15-20 million” in total installed cost. And it’s usually more like $5 million or less.)

But is that what I want to do with my life? Well… when it comes to my professional life – the answer is yes! After all, I love the work, and I truly enjoy the things I do when managing a project. So, yes; I do want to be a Project Engineer – and perhaps one day, a Project Manager (which is the next step up).

But I’m thinkin’ along a slightly different wrinkle here. After all, a fellah’s gotta make a livin’, y’know, and I do love to do what I’m good at, y’know, doin’, if you get my meanin’. But that’s just a job, after all. It’s not who I am.

No, the real question is, who do I want to be. Can you hear the distinction? I’m not even sure I can adequately define it, for that matter. Hey, at least I know what I mean. And I think you do, too, right?

See, besides bein’ a darned good Project Engineer, I’m a whole herd of other things, too. For instance (and in no particular order): I’m a husband, a writer, an author, a Bible teacher (the Mrs. And I teach Newlyweds at our church – loads of fun, I’ll tell ya!), a Christian, a friend, a fine fellow (or an insane person, depending on who you ask) – I mean there’s literally no limit to the things I can be at any given moment.

So why the seemingly ambiguous question, you ask? Well, maybe it needs to be stated in a different way.

I guess the question is really, what do I want to be that will produce something that will outlast me? Or that affects other people in a positive way? (And that’s positive as defined by me, of course.) In other words, what difference do I want to make in that totality of existence we call life, the universe, and everything?

Do YOU know what I mean? Maybe we should throw that one against the wall and see what sticks.

So, how would YOU answer the question: “What do I want to be?”

As always, feel free to respond in the comment box. Or, if you need more room and it fits your blog, write it there. (Just link here so we can all enjoy – and learn – from your responses.) Don’t worry; I’ll leave the light on for ya.

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Photos

… or not 2B, by Robert Hruzek

find out who you are 3042×2154, by Joanna Young

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Howdy, y’all!

Hey, I’m not going to apologize for not writin’ so much lately. I mean, you’re not supposed to do that, right? After all, your friends don’t mind when you’re occupied with, y’know, the other stuff that sometimes just has to be done.

Still… I miss you guys! So lemme just leave you with a quick thought for the day:

The road to victory

looks a lot like

the road to defeat.

It’s just a mite longer.

I’ll be back real soon now, y’hear?

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[Note from the Proprietor: Today's post is (as you can plainly tell by the title) a guest post submitted by my friend Luke Gedeon, who blogs at Luke Gedeon. Although this week we're focusing on Mountaintop Experiences, this one is a mite time-sensitive (and marginally related to the topic anyway) so I'm posting it today.]

Thank you Robert for this guest post opportunity.

The theme of this month is What I Learned from the Mountaintop, and I will post on that soon. For today, I have something closer to a valley, but don’t worry. It has a happy ending.

Have you ever needed help really bad, and had nothing to give in return? No money. No girl scout cookies. Nothing!

Well… I did offer one person a bag of M&M’s. The gift was accepted but the results were well… a little less than I had hoped for.

I recently entered Caring for China, the non-profit I work for, in a group-writing project. Not the ordinary, just for fun project, either. The company sponsoring the project, Zemanta, is giving away several thousand dollars to the cause(s) that can get the most bloggers to participate. (Click here for more info.) It is still open until Saturday the 6th, if you are willing to help.

So of course I jumped at the opportunity! I sent out a mass email to friends and family, I posted about it on my blog and twitter, and even set up a twitter account for Caring for China and followed anybody who said anything about China in hopes that they would help.

Then I went back to work on two huge projects, and let the mini-mass-media do its work.

Silence.

So I tried again, this time individually contacting a few of the people I thought most likely to help.

That worked!

At least half of the people I contacted directly followed through. I am still hoping a few more will soon.

This guest-post opportunity also came about through direct communication.

So my big lesson for the month, what I learned from begging, is that personal contact is still essential, and that blog posts and tweets without the “at” sign do not count as personal contact. You still have to use people’s names and address them individually.

So how about you? Have you ever experienced the thrill of begging? Did you learn anything in the process?

[This blog post is part of Zemanta's Blogging For a Cause campaign to raise awareness and funds for worthy causes that bloggers care about.]

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[Further note from the proprietor: As mentioned above, this post is also part of this month's What I Learned From... groupwrite project. If you'd like to join us (and you're more than welcome!), just click on that cute little link and read all about it. You have until Sunday at midnight, June 7 to enter!]

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[Warning: Lengthy post - not because I got long-winded - that sorta goes without sayin', if you get my meanin' - but because of a long image lower down in the post. Just sayin'.]

You ever get the feeling you’re bein’ watched? It’s sorta like that creepy-crawly feelin’ between the shoulder blades when nobody’s around. Like bugs crawlin’ around back there. Ick.

How about when you know you’re bein’ watched, like when you get up in front of a room filled with people?

OK, how about this one: What if you suddenly realized a whole herd o’ folks were watching your every move? Does it make you think twice about what you were about to say? Or not? Kinda makes you think, doesn’t it? Oh, sure; some folks thrive on that sortof thing. But not me – and I daresay, not most of us, either.

That thought struck me the other day (sound of dull thud), bringing back a particular memory…

It Started Out Innocently Enough

A few years back, during a regrettably long period of unemployment, I was invited to sign up for a two-week-long jobs program run by the Texas Department of Labor. (Not that I expect great things from anything the Government does, mind you; it just seemed like I wasn’t getting anywhere with the usual job-hunting methods and figured any help would be a good thing. Besides, it was free! I like free.)

Right at the beginning, folks who sat at the same table were grouped into teams. Well, it was no big deal anyway since we didn’t know each other to begin with. Interestingly enough, though, the six of us at our table somehow seemed to “mesh” almost right away, and before too long were cracking jokes and trading insights with each other like the best of friends. I guess shared trials really did help us there; we were all in the same leaky boat and lookin’ for a bucket, y’know?

Well, things went fine for the first week. At the start of the second week, though, our instructor announced that over the next couple of days we’d all be conducting mock interviews in front of a video camera, and the class would then offer (hopefully) helpful critiques.

Now at first, I must admit to feelin’ a tad nervous about that. I mean, I’d never been videotaped before (except by accident at a wedding, or something), much less done it in front of millions. (Well, maybe about 30 – but it seemed like millions!) After a few minutes discussing it with my friends at the table, I managed to put my fears back down into that little box where I usually keep ‘em.

After all, I said to myself, how bad could it be? (He said, blithely.) I mean, you sit down, answer a few questions honestly and forthrightly, maintain eye contact, smile, don’t pick yer nose – heck, I could practically do that in my sleep!

V-Day

Finally, the day came. Each interview lasted about 5 minutes; then for about 15 minutes we played the tape while different folks pointed out, um, “helpful observations”. Actually, they really were helpful. Really. It can just be a bit overwhelming when everyone is trying to, y’know, help you.

One by one, each of us did the deed. By a quirk of fate, our table was one of the last ones, so we had plenty of time to observe how the whole thing was going. In part, it helped allay some fears. Folks were actually contributing helpful advice. Of course, in part it simply caused a slow buildup of, y’know, other fears…

Again, I thought to myself, I can do this, no problem.

Finally, my turn came. I’m tellin’ ya; you’da been proud of me! On the outside I was as calm as a mountain lake. But on the inside… ah, but on inside I was just a giant bowl of shiverin’, quiverin’ jello. Nevertheless, I stood up, calmly moseyed up to the front and took a seat – then proceeded to make a total hash of the entire interview! (sound of heart dropping through my shoes)

Yep; it’s true. In fact, by the time it was over, you could hear this unbelieving hush fall across the entire room. Embarrassment seemed to reign supreme, especially on the instructor’s part as she struggled to come up with something – anything – positive to say about my abysmal performance.

I felt like a piece of greasy food left on a plate that was about to be put in the dishwasher. Or like that target they use to test the effectiveness of the blast power of a Cruise Missile. It was awful. It was humiliating. It was – well, lemme put it this way. If I’da known the deep, dark secret to becoming invisible, well, I woulda done it right then, no hesitation – publicity be hanged.

The Eyes Have It

What happened, you ask?

Well, it’s like this. I was fine until I suddenly realized how many eyes were focused right on yours truly. Eyes belonging to folks I didn’t know. I mean, I was fine when swapping lies stories, conversing and laughing with folks at my own table – you know, the ones I was comfortable with. But bein’ out there in front of all the rest of the room was quite a different story.

Wow, was that ever a fun excruciating experience! Hey, it’s tough enough discovering things about yourself you didn’t know – and aren’t necessarily proud of. But it’s a frog of an entirely different hop when it happens right there in front of God and everyone, if you get my meanin’.

As it turned out, though, I did learn a few things that actually helped me out later on. Perhaps the main one was this: never to forget your audience – and the fact that no matter what you do, you have one! In fact, as I pointed out up there at the beginning of this post, that very thought came up the other day…

Ooh, Shiney! A New Toy: Twitter Mosaic

The other day I ran across this little web-based thingie called Twitter Mosaic.

What does it do? Hey, glad you asked! When you enter your Twitter username, it makes a nice composite of your choice of either followers or friends. (Note: Still haven’t figured out how to make it show all my enemies yet. Might be a handy thing to keep around… But I digress.)

Anyhoo, I have about 675 Twitter followers (give or take, depending on time of day, current season, and that particular day’s hat size). After deleting avatars that are obviously businesses, and turning it into an image (actually 6 separate images since it was so long) this is what the mosaic looks like (and I have no idea why they end up in the order they appear here):

Wow! Now that’s really sumpin’, y’all! Not only does it create a really cool image, but that’s quite a lotta folks, y’know? And to think I hardly have any followers compared to some.

Just think – all those folks are… uh… hmmm… well… Eek! They’re watchin’ everything I say! (suddenly jumps up and runs screaming from the keyboard)

Is it Gettin’ Hot in Here, or is it Just Me?

Now, why do I suddenly feel so very self-concious? I mean, it’s not like there’s any difference in now versus, say, 10 minutes ago, right? Not really. But the very idea that so many folks (potentially at least) are able to read my words (and slice and dice ‘em  too, should they feel so inclined)… well, it’s kinda sobering, for want of a better term.

I mean, like most folks, there’s a much smaller group I regularly communicate with, via blogs, comments, tweets, etc. They’re like those folks at my table – we laugh at each other’s jokes (and groan at the boners), edify each other, encourage each other to no end. But all those others – it’s like bein’ suddenly transported back to that chair in front of the video camera.

Uh, wow.

Oh, I’m sure a lot of those followers are simply there for numbers; hey, it’s a fact of life. Honestly, I don’t begrudge them that. The truth is, you get out of it what you put into it, y’know? But still, the idea that so many people can see every word I write does kinda make it a little more real, y’know? And, just for a brief moment, I had a flashback of that horrible feeling I had back in that workshop. But only for a moment.

I’ll tell ya; it should be a wake-up call for all of us, though. After all, the things we say out loud here on the Internet really are out there for all to see. And, like it or not, your words have power. Power to build, or power to destroy; power to obfuscate, or power to enlighten – hey, it’s up to you.

As that great American Philosopher Obi-wan Kenobi once said, “Choose wisely…”

Let’s Bring it Home

Now, lest you think I done forgot to bring this baby home (and thereby lettin’ you off the hook), let’s make this real and personal, shall we?

The fact is, whether you have a lot of followers or just a few, there are folks out there who actually read, think about, and yes, Virginia, sometimes even respond to your words. Now, knowing that to be true, does that:

1. Scare you to death, giving you a bad case of the heebie-jeebies every time you sit at the keyboard
2. Excite you beyond words and you just can’t keep it in any more but have to get what’s on your mind OUT THERE
3. Make you yawn because you don’t really think about it much, and hey, what I have to say doesn’t really matter all that much

OK, I made the choices extreme on purpose. Nevertheless (would a word like that fit the definition of “mashup”? uh, never mind) which continuum do you lean toward, and how does it affect what you do (and perhaps more importantly, say) on the web?

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Photo: Watched 2, by 35mm fanboy

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Howdy, y’all! Although I’m in Chicago this weekend for THE event of the year – SOBCon09 – I still wanted to leave you with some worthwhile Thought for the Day.

Mrs. MZM and I were out the other day, enjoyin’ the beautiful Spring-like weather, and we strolled into a store where I happened to see this book:

Now, I’ll admit I didn’t open it and thus have no idea what it’s about. But sometimes just readin’ the title is enough, don’cha think? Hey, as far as I’m concerned – message received!

Thanks for droppin’ by, and don’t worry ’bout a thing, y’all; I’ll be back here in the saddle on Monday!

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Also, don’t forget (sorry; I almost forgot!) – our next What I Learned From… groupwrite project kicks off NEXT MONDAY! (sound of crowd cheering) Click on that little link for details, then drop by on Monday for the kickoff!

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Photo: Be the Difference, by Robert Hruzek

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Today, Christians throughout the world celebrate the fact that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, rose from the dead. It’s a day marked with celebration and joy as we consider His sacrifice in our place.

A sobering thought, that One so perfect, pure and holy would willingly lay down His own life as a substitution for us – just because He loved us. Kinda hard to find fault with that level of love, don’cha think? Yet some folks do. Go figure.

As for me, I’m just glad He did!

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Painting: He is Risen, by Jesus Martinez Gordo

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