February 2011
Why Is Snow
23 02 11 18:16 Filed in: Reflections | My Life
I started wondering why as I watched this afternoon’s mini-blizzard through the window. Snow in is the category of things that I accept without understanding why it exists. It shares that growing category with a lot of other things like moss, mosquitos, and lutefisk.
I grew up in Southern California where I never needed to wonder why is snow. I knew why. It existed for the pure pleasure of kids who, if they could convince an adult to drive an hour or two to find the stuff, could play in it long enough to get uncomfortably cold and damp, and then return home to shorts and t-shirt weather. I have always enjoyed my snow at a convenient distance, so I can choose it - or not. Now I live in the hilly Northwest where snow, though admittedly pretty, is inconvenient. And because it is inconvenient, I wonder why.
It is, of course, a self-centered question, and it is embarrassingly true that I mostly ask why of things that are inconvenient. I didn’t ask why the sun was shining yesterday or why my neighbor’s now-frozen camellias were so pretty. It’s the inconvenient stuff I wonder about. Could it be that there is more at stake than what pleases me? Young Elihu reminded Job that God says to the snow, “Fall on the earth.” And God seems to agree that the storehouses of the snow are under His control. Could it be that God actually likes the stuff in spite of the fact that it apparently didn’t exist before the fall?? Hmmm, I wonder.... Why is snow?
I grew up in Southern California where I never needed to wonder why is snow. I knew why. It existed for the pure pleasure of kids who, if they could convince an adult to drive an hour or two to find the stuff, could play in it long enough to get uncomfortably cold and damp, and then return home to shorts and t-shirt weather. I have always enjoyed my snow at a convenient distance, so I can choose it - or not. Now I live in the hilly Northwest where snow, though admittedly pretty, is inconvenient. And because it is inconvenient, I wonder why.
It is, of course, a self-centered question, and it is embarrassingly true that I mostly ask why of things that are inconvenient. I didn’t ask why the sun was shining yesterday or why my neighbor’s now-frozen camellias were so pretty. It’s the inconvenient stuff I wonder about. Could it be that there is more at stake than what pleases me? Young Elihu reminded Job that God says to the snow, “Fall on the earth.” And God seems to agree that the storehouses of the snow are under His control. Could it be that God actually likes the stuff in spite of the fact that it apparently didn’t exist before the fall?? Hmmm, I wonder.... Why is snow?
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Happy Millard Fillmore Day
20 02 11 18:26 Filed in: Reflections | My Life
In the dark ages of my childhood, February was a wonderful month. The 12th was Lincoln’s birthday and a school holiday, appropriately accompanied by assorted celebrations of Lincoln’s achievements. The 22nd was Washington’s birthday, another school holiday with observances focused on our first president. In between there was Valentine’s Day, which in my hormonally-challenged classrooms was usually good for a no-work day. And all of that was crammed into the shortest month of the year. How could a guy not love February?
Somehow that all changed. During President Nixon’s administration, Washington’s birthday was moved to the third Monday of the month, a date that can never coincide with his real birthday, and Lincoln’s soon dropped off the calendar - at least the school-free part of it did. And we started calling Washington’s now non-birthday date Presidents’ Day. Maybe we should have called it Nixon Day.
President’s Day is such a confusing holiday. (It is not clear, by the way, just where that apostrophe belongs - or if it belongs at all.) Who, exactly, are we celebrating? The current occupant of the office is number 44, and most Americans would be hard pressed to name the other 43. Or 42, since Grover Cleveland gets counted twice. The celebration these days is rarely focused on any president, and the holiday is valued only as a three-day weekend. Unless, of course, you are a student (or teacher) in a school that piggybacks on the holiday to create a week-long break that has not been shortened by snow days.
Maybe it’s time to start celebrating presidents again. If we start now, we can celebrate a different president every year for the next half-century or so. I’m starting this year with number thirteen, a man who inherited the office when his predecessor died, and whose major accomplishment seems to have been implementing the Compromise of 1850 under which California was admitted to the union - which may or may not have been a good thing, depending on your point of view.
So to all my friends, I wish you a very happy Millard Fillmore Day.
Somehow that all changed. During President Nixon’s administration, Washington’s birthday was moved to the third Monday of the month, a date that can never coincide with his real birthday, and Lincoln’s soon dropped off the calendar - at least the school-free part of it did. And we started calling Washington’s now non-birthday date Presidents’ Day. Maybe we should have called it Nixon Day.
President’s Day is such a confusing holiday. (It is not clear, by the way, just where that apostrophe belongs - or if it belongs at all.) Who, exactly, are we celebrating? The current occupant of the office is number 44, and most Americans would be hard pressed to name the other 43. Or 42, since Grover Cleveland gets counted twice. The celebration these days is rarely focused on any president, and the holiday is valued only as a three-day weekend. Unless, of course, you are a student (or teacher) in a school that piggybacks on the holiday to create a week-long break that has not been shortened by snow days.
So to all my friends, I wish you a very happy Millard Fillmore Day.
God and the Superbowl
06 02 11 19:18 Filed in: Reflections
God probably doesn’t care that the Packers won the Superbowl (or as someone I know has called it, the Super-who-cares-bowl). Lots of people care, particularly in Wisconsin and Pennsylvania, but I don’t think it’s real high on God’s list of things to get excited about. However, I think there is something about the big game in which God does take delight.
It was a short phrase uttered to a reporter by a Green Bay player in the wake of the game that reminded me of that: To God be the glory he said. Is it really possible? Can God be glorified by an overhyped football game played by overpaid players who think that dowsing their coach in Gatorade is a good thing to do? Strangely enough, it turns out that the answer to that question is yes.
A teaching colleague of mine a few years ago liked to remind us that every act was an act of worship. He is right. When we who love God use what God has given us to do whatever it is we do with excellence, God is pleased. (Remember last month’s “Whatever and the Web” blog?) I don’t think God would be particularly impressed if I suited up and tried to score a touchdown; my athletic ability is such that it would not be done with excellence, and my goal would more likely be survival rather than the glory of God. But when I use well the gifts He has given and offer the result to Him, He is delighted.
To God be the glory is not just a convenient phrase. It is a way of life. What a staggering privilege is ours to delight the heart of God - and He doesn’t care what uniform we’re wearing.
It was a short phrase uttered to a reporter by a Green Bay player in the wake of the game that reminded me of that: To God be the glory he said. Is it really possible? Can God be glorified by an overhyped football game played by overpaid players who think that dowsing their coach in Gatorade is a good thing to do? Strangely enough, it turns out that the answer to that question is yes.
A teaching colleague of mine a few years ago liked to remind us that every act was an act of worship. He is right. When we who love God use what God has given us to do whatever it is we do with excellence, God is pleased. (Remember last month’s “Whatever and the Web” blog?) I don’t think God would be particularly impressed if I suited up and tried to score a touchdown; my athletic ability is such that it would not be done with excellence, and my goal would more likely be survival rather than the glory of God. But when I use well the gifts He has given and offer the result to Him, He is delighted.
To God be the glory is not just a convenient phrase. It is a way of life. What a staggering privilege is ours to delight the heart of God - and He doesn’t care what uniform we’re wearing.
Abnormally Normal
01 02 11 19:13 Filed in: My Life
Yesterday I went in for my more-or-less-annual physical exam and barnacle check. Having been married to a nurse, I have learned to value these regular check-ups. Though discovering disease is more the exception than the rule with physicals, I haven’t forgotten that it was an annual physical that first uncovered Joan’s lymphoma. So I headed in to do my part to help support the local health care industry, even though I don’t think it needs my help. I survived the exam (including a bit of brain-freezing liquid nitrogen to the barnacles), enjoyed visiting with my friend and physician, and, pending lab results, was officially declared healthy.
I know the drill with lab results. If they are all okay, I get a copy in the mail, and that will be enough. If they reveal that something in my life needs tweaking, then I get a phone call from the nurse before they mail the results. Today the phone rang and the voice on the other end was not the nurse but my doctor. Instantly he had my undivided attention. How bad could it be? “I have your lab results,” he said. So bad he didn’t leave it to the nurse?! “Everything is perfectly normal; your numbers are great; I’m proud of you.” I exhaled and my more-or-less healthy heart started beating again. “Actually it’s the most normal piece of paper I’ve seen in long time,” he said.
I guess that makes me abnormally normal. Whatever that is, it feels good. And I was blessed by a doctor who probably sees enough bad news that he enjoyed passing on the good news. Though I’m mildly concerned about the kind of comments this statement might generate, I’m thankful to be abnormal in the best possible way.
I know the drill with lab results. If they are all okay, I get a copy in the mail, and that will be enough. If they reveal that something in my life needs tweaking, then I get a phone call from the nurse before they mail the results. Today the phone rang and the voice on the other end was not the nurse but my doctor. Instantly he had my undivided attention. How bad could it be? “I have your lab results,” he said. So bad he didn’t leave it to the nurse?! “Everything is perfectly normal; your numbers are great; I’m proud of you.” I exhaled and my more-or-less healthy heart started beating again. “Actually it’s the most normal piece of paper I’ve seen in long time,” he said.
I guess that makes me abnormally normal. Whatever that is, it feels good. And I was blessed by a doctor who probably sees enough bad news that he enjoyed passing on the good news. Though I’m mildly concerned about the kind of comments this statement might generate, I’m thankful to be abnormal in the best possible way.