from the heart

My New Running Partner

Some time ago, lacking the motivation to run regularly, I took my wife’s suggestion to enlist a new running partner (since she wasn't going to go with me). Instead of the usual marathon-type running buddies (those guys don’t like to stop as much as I do) I enlisted an entirely different partner.  My buddy is not a “he” – my running buddy is a “she.” A girl named Jess.

She is a beautiful, young, Australian who is in fantastic shape.  She is constantly smiling and has some really beautiful brown eyes. She can run all day – and keeps me quite motivated to run. As a matter of fact, I'm running more because SHE wants to than because I do.  Oh, did I mention that she is a dog? Jess is my Australian Shepherd pup.

There is just one problem. Jess is easily distracted. I am constantly pulling her back to my pace and keeping her headed in the same direction I am running in. My arms are actually more weary than my legs after I run.  She’s prone to chasing dogs, cats, ducks, squirrels, other runners, and even birds flying 40 feet above us. She stops to stick her nose in who-knows-what – and is just a general pest as a running partner.

I’m getting a physical AND emotional workout with her every time we run. In fact, I think I’ve spent more time getting untangled from the leash than I actually spend moving along my route these first few weeks with her. It is exhausting, but then I guess that is why we run anyway.

I find that life is a lot like that, too. We have to learn to reign in every distraction, every random bird flying overhead and every squirrel that darts out in front of us. We must fight to stay focused on the goal, and on keeping pace while getting there. I may have to put the choke collar on finances, entertainment, desire and a host of other stuff out there that just won’t leave me alone.

But if I want to progress, I must learn to run with distractions at my side. I’m afraid they will always be a fact of life.

Jess and I – we’ll be OK. In fact, it is getting better every day. She is learning to run with one eye on the road and another eye on me. And I am learning to run with the distractions – but never veer from the goal.

Do Dogs Go to Heaven?

"Will there be dogs in heaven?" Believe it or not, this was one of the toughest questions I was asked the other day in an all-staff meeting as I discussed the message I was studying for, "A New Heaven and New Earth." 

Actually, upon extensive research, I found that respected commentators are split on the subject.  Some say, "no."  Dogs don't have souls, they say.  Some say, "yes." There were animals in Eden - and the tree in Eden will resurface in heaven. They have a point.

But my answer THAT day was, "Well, if there are dogs in heaven, I know one that won't be there - MINE." Actually, I've had to rethink that a bit.  At this point, you're probably thinking, "If he has that much time to do that kind of thinking, he's not busy enough."  (Well, you're reading it.)

But seriously, I was reminded that even though my dog is rebellious, selfish, disobedient, a moocher, and had the audacity to actually do #2 on my BED one day when no one was around - yes, she did do that - she still is no more disqualified for heaven than I am. 

In FACT, upon further reflection, I realized my own stubbornness and all that stuff is worse than the dogs - that I have a head start on being intelligent, reasonable and capable of knowing better than to offend my Maker and Master.  And yet I am still disobedient.  Not as bad as I once was, but still...

I don't know if dogs are in heaven but I know I'm getting there one way - and one way only.  The merciful, incredibly compassionate grace of God. 

We're all in the same boat.

No Earthly Good

The real reason I haven't posted lately is this: 

I've been so heavenly minded that I am of no earthly good.  Now, that is not entirely true, but it does have an element of truth.  Bottom line, I was asked to preach a message on "The New Heaven and New Earth" at a conference for pastors, so that meant I had to really dive in to "heavenly things" and it left me no time to write in this earthly blog.

So...what about heaven?  I found that few preach on it, few study it and few of us really know what we're looking forward to.  God has something very, very special planned!  Revelation 21 and 22 are amazing in the details of heaven.  I'll summarize the first five verses of Revelation 21, but you really have to read it.

God tells us what we will EXPERIENCE - and specifically we'll watch the old earth and heaven pass away with fire and noise and every other awesome sensory comprehension and then we'll watch as God creates a brand new earth and heaven - far more glorious than the first.  Imagine the most beautiful place on earth.  Now magnify the beauty by a million times.  Add to that the fact that it will never spoil.  That's a start.  You get the point.

God tells us what we will EXPLORE.  Verse 2 speaks of the New Jerusalem - the place where our mansion is being built - yep, individual mansions for the redeemed.  I estimate (and others, as well) that your mansion will be huge.  The holy city, after all, is 1500 miles wide, deep and tall.  It can house 20 billion people and give them enough space to have 75 acres each - in all directions!  Out of 100 billion estimated population of earth in the past, present and future, if we guess that 20% come to know Christ (yes, that is optimistic) these are the numbers.  What's more, as John explored, you will also explore the BRILLIANCE, the BIGNESS, the BEAUTY and the BLESSING of heaven.  Get ready.

But the best part of heaven in the ability to ENJOY - His Presence that is.  I can't wait to see Jesus.  This is really what heaven is all about and He will be AMONG us (three times this is mentioned in one verse).  Every pain, heartbreak and disappointment will be reversed by the healing balm of Jesus' presence. 

Lotsa stuff....but truly, to be heavenly minded seems to be very good for earthly perspective.  My view of heaven is flavoring how I feel about earth - I'm not clinging quite so tightly - I'm not expecting quite so much here - because I realize the greatest things are ahead. 

The best is yet to come.

ANOTHER Right Door Story

OK, this is not about me.  When I told my wife about the "door" incident, she related another story to me.  (If my wife says it happened, it happened.)

A woman was coming out of the mall where we live here, and as she got to the car, noticed four teenage boys sitting in the car with doors open and trunk open.  Being the wife of a police officer and a registered gun owner, she moved in on the perps and told them in no uncertain terms, "Get out of my car NOW.  I've got a gun and I'm not afraid to use it!"

The "perps" fled the scene, and when she calmed down she tried to put her keys into the ignition. They......would.....not.....fit.  Because it was....not....her.....car.

Wanting to do the right thing - after she found her car two rows over - she went to the mall police office and told them the story.  The officer said, "Yes, ma'am.  Do you see those four boys over there on that bench?  They just came in and reported a car-jacking."  You must be the one!

Be.....sure.....you......have......the......right......door.

The Right Door

Be....sure....you....get....the....right.....door.

Maybe this has happened to you before, but it's a first for me.  Today I was coming out of a store, thinking about something important and not really looking where I was going.  I clicked my door opener and opened the car door.  I noticed something weird in the door compartment.  A phone book.  A phone book I didn't put there.  I was wondering about that as I climbed into the vehicle - and then I was shocked to realize that it was not my car!

But I wasn't half as shocked as the strange woman sitting in the passenger seat waiting for HER husband to get in the car!  I can't describe the look on her face. I didn't wait around long to chat.

As I got out of the car, I looked again.  Same make, same model, same style, same color and even same trim.  Amazingly the same window sticker (a school mascot).  BUT...wrong car.

Be....sure....you....get.....the.....right.....door.

Jesus is the only door that is right.

Texting a Prayer to God

Sometimes prayer is a kneel-on-the-floor and spend time with God kind of thing.  Sometimes prayer is a little briefer - and very, very desperate. 

Nehemiah prayed this kind of prayer in Nehemiah 2:4.  "So I prayed to the God of Heaven."  It was brief, desperate, and came in between the king's question and Nehemiah's answer.

Some people have called this "arrow" prayer, as in shooting off an arrow toward God that says, "Help!"  Some have called it "faxing" a prayer - and now, "texting" a prayer to God. 

I remember praying a prayer like that when I was skiing years ago.  I'd decided to jump off an incline and go airborne.  What I didn't know, however, was that the slope I was to land on was closed off by a large rope - stretching across the place where I was supposed to land.  Five feet high and fifty feet across, this rope became my downfall.  I went into the air, THEN saw the rope and tried to clear it - but failed.  It was as the rope became entangled in my feet/skis and I was pulled back to earth that I prayed one of these prayers. 

As I remember it went something like, "Oh, Lord - splat."  He answered me, but not in an audible voice, you know.  It was kind of like, "Don't you ever do that again." 

C.S. Spurgeon actually has an entire message on this subject of desperation praying, preached 135 years ago.  The title of the message is "Ejaculatory Prayer."  I promise I'm not making this up.

Whatever you call it, it is the same principle.  When we think things are going well, God is there.  But when the chips are down and we're out of our minds with desperation and fear - HE'S STILL THERE. 

Call on Him.

Celebrity Look-a-Likes

I had a friend - a grizzly guy who was 6'8" and decidedly non-celebrity looking.   Every where we went together, however, he introduced himself by saying, "Hi, I'm Brad Pitt."  I got the biggest kick out of watching people respond to that line.

I guess every man wants to look like Brad Pitt to some degree.  Especially if your wife has ever told you that you look like Ward Cleaver, which my wife actually said to me one day.  She was talking about my hair - and within the hour I was in some hair styling shop asking for any cut that would "make me look like anyone in the world except Ward Cleaver."  That's why my hair sticks up these days.  Ward's hair never did that.

I read last week that the New York newspaper had hired a woman who happens to look like Jessica Simpson to come to the Dallas-New York game and sit on the 50 yard line in a pink Romo jersey.  I investigated and discovered that, yes, there is a Jessica Simpson look-a-like named Lynsey Nordstrom and yes, she did go to the game.  Her fee?  $500 an hour for the first hour and $250 an hour after that.  Great work if you look the part.  And she pretty much does.

I guess Brad Pitt doesn't need a look-alike because they've never called me.  The good news is that neither have Ward's people. 

And have you seen the "Celebrity Look-a-Like" reality TV show?  Is that real?  Do people really pay huge sums of money to have surgery - to do these major make-overs - just to look like someone they are not?  Maybe they want the same kind of job Lynsey has. 

Or maybe their meaning in life has to do with looking like someone they are not.

Perhaps I shouldn't be too hard on them.  After all, I'm trying to look like someone else myself.  It takes a whole lot more than a big make-over and does require significant spiritual surgery.  You see, I'm supposed to look something like Jesus (so are you, you know) - but I'm pretty sure it'll take my entire life. 

Yet, somehow, that is filled with meaning. 

Why Bradford Trees Stink

You need to know this.  Bradford Pear trees are a picture of sinful flesh.  They are.

When we lived in Tennessee, we loved looking at our five huge Bradford Pear trees, but hated working with them - and learned a great deal about them.  The wise purchaser who bought that home from me REQUIRED me to cut them down (and pay for it!) before he bought the home.  Smart fella.

My first experience with Bradford Pear trees was seeing them along the streets of Atlanta, Georgia years ago.  When I asked a resident if the pears off those trees tasted good, they laughed at me.  "They don't bear fruit," they said, as though I was the village idiot.  My question was, "Why call them pear trees if there are no pears?"  I may not be the sharpest guy on the block, but I thought it was a good question.

So when we moved to Texas, my wife told me she'd found a house she wanted to buy.  My first question was not about price or location or taxes.  It was, "It doesn't have any Bradford Pear trees does it?"  You see, I'd spend much of my adult life pruning, repairing, raking the leaves of and generally detesting the trees we'd had in Tennessee.  "Only one," she said, "and it's cute."  Won't be for long, I thought.

Well, here we are on New Year's Day and I've just spent five hours pruning the thing. Much of it came crashing down over our driveway a few months ago.  Four pickup loads later, I got it out of there. What was left was rubbing the top of our house.  That's not cute - that's a damaged roof! 

Now, I'm not really complaining because I had fun pruning that tree.  I have this very manly weed-eater that has a chain saw attachment (told you it was manly) and when I give it the gas I feel like I'm on a Harley, but with teeth. And I cut that Bradford Pear down to size.  You see, without pruning, the Bradford Pear is as troublesome as an undisciplined child.  It just won't do anything right - and it gets more complicated with age.

So, according to my good "buddy" Steve McCary, the Bradford Pear tree is like sinful flesh of a not-so-serious Christian.  Note:

    1.  It looks beautiful when in full leaf, but never bears any fruit - never.
    2.  In the Spring, it stinks when the leaves come out - the stench of it's glory is nauseating.
    3.  If it is not pruned, the branches grow into a complex system, rubbing against one another.
    4.  Left alone, the branches become heavy enough to split from the trunk.
    5.  The upper branches can only bear their own weight.  No ice, snow, or wind with rain. 

There are times when those who say they are Christians are eerily similar to this fruitless pear tree.  Jesus said something about trees like that.  Concerning a fig tree that was supposed to bear fruit, Jesus said, "...if it bears fruit next year, fine; but if not, cut it down."  Luke 13:9

Don't be a Christian in name only.  And don't buy a house with a bunch of Bradford Pears. 

So now you know.

Competing Voices

I joined the GPS crowd at Christmas this year.  I bought my wife a portable Global Positioning System so she could find her way around without needing me looking up her destinations on Google all the time.  So trying it out today seemed to be a great idea.  My father and I, along with the GPS in HIS car, took some relatives to the airport.  We thought it'd be fun to compare how the two portable GPS units worked. And it was...for a few minutes.

These GPS units give audible instructions to the driver.  "Turn right at the next intersection."  "Take the next left in 1.2 miles."  Usually, that is pretty helpful stuff.  At one particular intersection, however, we nearly had a fight.

With my father driving, we heard one GPS telling us to turn right, another telling us to continue straight, and then my father's "passenger seat driver" (that'd be me) telling him the REAL way to go.  At one point, the confusion was so great I had to shout.  I actually outshouted two GPS systems.

My poor dad. With so many competing voices, he really didn't know who to listen to.  Finally, he listened to the one that was the loudest - me.  Good thing I knew where I was going.

Unfortunately, the loudest voice is not always the best one. We face that a lot in life.  So many voices giving us directions, but there is really only one that counts - God's voice.

I wonder if we know HIS voice well enough to pick it out of a crowd.  It is the one thing that most affects our ability to arrive at the right destination. 

An Uninvited Guest

My wife, Kim, bless her heart, has a thing for cats.  I remember when we were first married, she asked me if we could have a cat.  My first response was, "What for?"  I really had no idea why anyone would want one.  Unless, you know, you have a dog who likes to chase them. 

Well, I love her and she loves cats, so I...like cats.  (Notice I struggle with the "love" word here)  We've been married now for 29 years so I have come to like some of the cats we've had, and even have a little affection for others.  (I actually cried once - as a grown man - when "Muffin" got run over going after the chickens across the street.  You don't have to tell anyone else about that.) 

Anyway, cats seem to know Kim is a cat-lover and they just show up sometimes.  Last week, an big, male orange cat started showing up.  He became a regular outside the garage, so we called him Thomas.  A few days later, he found the cat door in my garage, and showed up inside the house.  Took him about 30 seconds to find the cat food - and we did nothing.  He was kind of cute - kind of spunky.  I like that in a cat.

Three days later, I wake up at five in the morning and the orange cat is in my BED.  Not sure how he got there, but I ran him off and out of the house.  Then, his spunk took on a new level.  Kim found him on our dining room table. 

If you're a cat, you might be able to come in my house and eat.  You can even get away with a jump on my bed and survive, but you cannot ever sit on my table, where we place our food.  That's a bad, bad thing.  As Kim reached out to remove him, this cute, spunky, well-treated guest bit the living daylights out of her hand.  The bite actually drew blood.    To make a short story even shorter, Thomas made his grand exit out the cat door the HARD way.  You might say I slam-dunked him through that cat door.    He must have found another place to live, because I haven't seen him around.

You know, I can find an illustration anywhere, so here it is.  It is funny how sin works in the same way that cat does.  It appears harmless at first, even appealing in a way.  It returns affection, it seems to cause little disruption.  But just like Thomas the cat began to be more aggressive and bold, sin begins to take bigger bites out of our lives.  One day, it bites us - really hard.  It hurts us and we have to deal with it aggressively.  We wonder how it came to that - and what we'll do next time. 

I find it interesting that no one in the house, Kim or the kids, wants that cat around anymore.  They all would have fought me tooth and nail to keep it around before...but now that it has shown its ugly side, it is not welcome. 

Believe me when I tell you that sin always has an ugly side.  Don't let it in.