Escaping Aggravation

What do you find aggravating?

For many, the myth of Sisyphus captures the essence of frustration. Sentenced to roll an immense boulder to the crest of a hill, he looked on helplessly as the task was reset over and over again.

Within Scripture, the imagery of frustration, frequently portrayed by the Old Testament prophets, involves fields and vineyards that will be laboriously watered with one’s sweat, only to see the fruit harvested by conquering enemies.

The book of Ecclesiastes opens with eleven verses of 360-degree madness: Circles upon circle upon circles:

  • Generations passing.
  • Sun rising and setting.
  • Winds blowing.
  • Seas filling and emptying.
  • Desires motivating and remaining.
  • Ingenuity creating and re-creating.

Solomon, the king of wisdom, makes an observation (1:14) that is equal parts of sour reflection and sober recognition: We are all belted to a merry-go-round. And minus some serious center of orientation, vanity spins on the horse beside us.

Said another way, we are all within inches of living very frustrated lives, existing in ways that feel akin to “chasing the wind”.  This is a path all-too-easily found.

This is why Ecclesiastes often seems so depressing, because here we have Solomon, gifted more wisdom and wealth, power and pleasure than perhaps any other man or woman in history, and HE (of all people) speaks fluently of the vanity of life.

But the careful reader of Ecclesiastes must not miss verses like Ecclesiastes 2:26:

“For to the one who pleases Him, God has given wisdom and knowledge and joy, but to the sinner, he has given the business of gathering and collecting, only to give to one who pleases God.”

The statement is not that life must be frustrating.  The statement is that life will be frustrating, to the extent that our goals and motivations are self-centered.  To the one bent on pleasing God, a path radically different from “vanity” opens itself wide.  It is a path where genuinely impacting learning takes place and where profound joy is tasted.

And it is a path readied for those eager to cast down self-imaged idols, in exchange for an existence centered around living out our parts as people bearing the Divine image.

And that is the opposite of vanity in every way.

Be Bold

There are moves that are yours to make, challenges that are yours to confront, and crosses that are your to carry.

Today.

Odds are that you already know what to do or say.  Now it’s pull-the-trigger time.

Be bold, my friends.

You were created for such as these.

Mitch Hedberg

Searching for some videos today, I came across this one, from one of the most original comedians I’ve ever enjoyed.

I think the Bigfoot bit is my favourite part.  Yours?

Butter on Bread

In our home, “Lord of the Rings” is the standard by which every other film or story is measured.  Within the earliest portions of that tale is a conversation between Gandalf the wizard and Bilbo Baggins, the hobbit.  Bilbo has a secret plan:

“I’m old, Gandalf. I know I don’t look it, but I’m beginning to feel it in my heart. I feel… thin. Sort of stretched, like… butter scraped over too much bread. I need a holiday. A very long holiday. And I don’t expect I shall return. In fact I mean not to.”

Butter spread thin over bread: There’s an easy image to grasp.

Unlike Bilbo, I’m not sure I really need a vacation, and I don’t feel old, and I’m not sure if I look it, and I don’t intend to leave.

But I do feel like butter spread too thin.

Current days are wonderful ones: I work a job in which I find significance and satisfaction much of the time, I love a wife who is better than I deserve, I cherish three little ones that are true treasures to me, and I enjoy a circle of friends who add much to my life.  I am healthy, wealthy (by every reasonable standard), and wise (in the sense that my mind DOES work)!

That said, life is full and fast right now.  Every day ends with a dozen things I should have done but didn’t.  One of those is blogging.  That bugs me because I love stringing ideas together and pressing them into words.  I enjoy drafting posts; I love editing them.

And I cannot get to either lately!

Despite my desires to grow the site (I’m working on completely new design–another task that has been temporarily pushed to the margins), time is simply not available at present.

So in an effort toward some inner quiet, I am striking this item from my daily list for a couple weeks.  Perhaps stating this here publicly will allow me to be less disappointed with myself each time I fail to make it happen in a day that provides next to no flexibility.  I know this is a season: Short nights, long days, three little ones under four, a string of wedding weekends and family visits.  Eventually, my early hours will again be dedicated to blogging and not to tackling work that won’t fit into the normal office hours.

But that is not now… not quite anyway.

My activity on Twitter will continue to be steady (the time commitment isn’t nearly the same), and I will strive to keep the Saturday Six-Pack rolling over the next two weeks as an outlet to share worthwhile items I find online.  And as soon as even a sliver of light peeks through, then I will begin tackling the list of ideas I have for original posts aimed at fueling you along the journey toward deeper life and clearer perspectives.

If you wish to subscribe to my Twitter feed (for a steady stream of article links and thoughtful quotes) or this site (to be aware of when full activity resumes here), head over the right side of this screen.  I look forward to interacting with you.

Grace and peace, my friends.  Live today in the assurance that God will always give us sufficient butter for our bread!

Miraculously Natural

With three daughters under the age of four, I have read “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” more times than the average man. For the uninformed, this is the tale of caterpillar who breaks free from his egg with a serious hunger. After five days of colourfully-sketched fruit, he goes on a dietary tear, eating his way through desserts and delicacies, meats and treats. A stomachache lands him back at a green leaf feast. By this time, our tiny protagonist has become a pudgy worm on the verge of cocooning. The finale of the book begins on the second-last page:

Then he nibbled a hole in the cocoon, pushed his way out, and… (final page turn here)

He was a beautiful butterfly!

 

[The story can be viewed HERE, if you wish.]

A colourful story of how worms become butterflies, this children’s book has yet to educate me on what really happens.  How does a slinking and slimy caterpillar become a soaring and stunning butterfly?  What magical tailor lives in that cocoon to design, craft, and attach those wings to that thing?

It is no error that we use the word metamorphosis to describe this process:

A change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one, by natural or supernatural means.

No exaggeration is necessary to tie the term “miracle” to such a definition, yet the reminder quickly follows: “This is natural.”

Miraculously natural.

A paradoxical phrase. Continue reading