Ever watch sports? If I hear one more announcer talk about a player’s “physicality” I’ll go crazy. Yes, I know it’s in the dictionary, but it hasn’t been used since the 1700s or so. If they’re going to use it,  throw a few “thees” and “thous” in there with it. I saw a woman on a commercial talking about how much she enjoyed living in a certain neighborhood because it had good “walkability”. Hello? “It’s a nice place to take a walk” too difficult for you? And don’t get me started on “man cave”. “Yeah, me and the boys are going to hang out in my man cave all weekend. Just need some nachos, bratwursts, and beverages.” And Febreze.

I ran across this sign last Saturday. I won’t say where I saw it, but I will tell you that they don’t have a lobby and their hobby section is pretty big. See anything that’s a little odd about it? No? Here’s a hint: if your furniture is always marked 30% off your everyday low prices, wouldn’t that make it your new everyday low price? Do you do these things just to torment me?

Oh but wait, there’s more. I saw this sign this morning. Notice anything a little bit off about it? Uh-huh. Like most people, I can’t stand it when  unique presentations are identical. Kind of ruins the, oh, I don’t know, uniqueness of it?

Maybe I’m just getting grouchy in my middle-ageishness. I know it happens to everyone. It’s our commonalities that make us unique. Or something like that.

Photo Credit: seangraham via Compfight cc

For the first anniversary, you’re supposed to give paper. Unfortunately we seem to have followed this tradition throughout our entire marriage. Paper money changes hands frequently, which is convenient since the second anniversary is cotton. If you weren’t aware, money is primarily cotton and linen, and linen is for the fourth anniversary. So three of the four first years, you’re handing out cash. What’s the missing gift? Why, leather of course. The same thing my wallet is made of. Coincidence? I think not.

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Look on down the list and you see things like crystal, silver, rubies, and diamonds. Most exciting of all though is the 80^th anniversary. Know what you get if you make it that long? Oak. Why oak? I don’t have any idea, but I do have a theory. It’s the circle of life, my friends. Oak trees are cut down and chopped up into little pieces to make, wait for it, paper. That’s right. Paper. The same thing you handed out 79 years ago.

Rather than give in to these archaic traditions forced on us by “The Man”, we’ve come up with a few of our own. Our tenth year was the ear plug anniversary, always useful, day or night. And as a bonus, they double as nose plugs, you know, just in case. Twentieth? Luggage (one suitcase). She went on vacation first. Thirtieth (and continuing)? Fiber. Which conveniently ties back in with paper.

But that’s the cool thing about love. It evolves and grows, if you let it. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t times when we grate on each other’s nerves. Sure we do. But we never stop loving each other. I’ve always heard that for a marriage to succeed, both parties have to work at it. That may be true, but when love’s involved, the work is not hard. What begins as puppy love grows to a “until death do we part” love.

But God’s love isn’t like that. His love for us doesn’t evolve. It’s constant. The Bible says He knew us before we were born. He loved us as much then as He does now. As we grow and (hopefully) mature as a Christian, we get better at pleasing God. We become more like Jesus. But His love is steady. That’s hard for us to comprehend. The first time I met my wife I thought she was cute (and had good taste in guys). But I didn’t love her. As we began to date and learn more about each other, our love grew. But when the Father created us, His love was already at maximum. It is eternal. Nothing we can do will ever change that.

Thank God.

Lose weight? Did that. It found me again though.

Exercise more? Did that. Moved my chair farther from the refrigerator.

Get out of debt? Didn’t do that. I went over my personal fiscal cliff years ago.

Spend more time with friends and family? Did that. Stopped at their request.

Learn something new? Did that. Two words: cake pops. (See “Lose weight”)

Be more organized? Did that. Put together a spreadsheet to monitor cake pop inventory.

Nope, this year I’m putting together some new resolutions. Ones that will truly help me grow as a husband, father, and wanna-be writer.

Stay up later at night. (Note to readers: I am not healthy, wealthy, or wise. Doesn’t work.)

Improve my woodworking skills. Oh, and still have ten fingers when 2014 gets here.

Start Christmas preparations earlier so I’m not so worn out around the holidays. Done. Cooked the turkey yesterday.

Avoid clichés by thinking outside the box.

Experiment more. Don’t be afraid to try new things. Like raspberry cake pops.

Finish my novel. (Note to self: block Pinterest on wife’s computer)

Quit obsessing over my yard. Just as soon as I win Yard of the Month again.

Open a nationwide chain of drive-thru all-you-can-eat pancake buffets. Still need to figure out the logistics of that one.

Just like any resolutions you’re going to make, mine are subject to change without prior written notice. Why? Because it’s not that easy to keep them. Habits and routines are hard to change. What seems like a good idea now can become a tiresome chore next week. Even the sincerest of efforts can result in failure to keep our resolutions. But it could be worse.

You’ll notice that I didn’t list anything like “be a better person” as a resolution. I can’t change who I am. No matter how hard I try, I fall short. But that’s okay. Because even though I can’t change myself, I know someone who can, if I’ll let Him. All I have to do is turn “me” over to Him. Strange how there’s so much freedom in surrendering.

But here’s the critical part: I can’t just make the resolution on New Year’s Day. I have to make it every day of the year. I have to decide that I want Him to change me. And when I let Him down, and I will, I have to remember that He’s still there, waiting to pick me up and get back to work. It’s a big job, but He’s resolved to do it.

Thank God.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! 2 Corinthians 5:17

When we moved into this house four years ago, it was clean. I put in some shelves, hung some hooks on the wall, and everything had its assigned position. It was so roomy I could skip and do cartwheels in there. (Which I suppose is why the neighbors asked me to keep the door closed.)

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But not today. Tools are tossed everywhere. Garden supplies are mixed in with bird seed. (Hint to birdwatchers: a dash of Miracle-Gro will make sparrows the size of turkeys – though not as tasty.) It’s so bad, I had to build some stilts so I could make it over to the refrigerator to grab the Cokes. My temporary solution was going to be to move the fridge back to the front porch, but my wife nixed that. She said there wasn’t enough room next to the sofa.

Finally, I’d had enough. I decided that everything was coming out of the garage and I was going to organize it once and for all. Now, I’m pretty handy when it comes to things like… well, like… okay, so I’m not pretty handy. But I do know how to use the Google. I typed in a description of my garage, and it displayed all of the upcoming show times for Hoarders.

Not to be dissuaded, I found some simple do-it-yourself plans for hanging pegboard and building a workbench. That created a bit of a dilemma for me. I need the workbench to build a frame for the pegboard, but I need the pegboard organizer so I can find my tools to build my workbench. I explained to my wife that there was only one logical solution to my quandary: I would have to buy all new tools.

Thinking this through, I realized that I would need to double the size of my pegboard organizer, since I would have twice as many tools. That would mean doubling the size of my workbench as well. I measured everything, and figured out that if I took out the wall between our bedroom and the garage, and shifted our bed so that the headboard was in the hall, I could just make everything fit. I think my wife liked the idea because she asked where I kept the sledgehammer. Guess she wants to knock the first hole in the wall.

I headed off to the nearest home improvement store, shopping list in hand. Tools? Check. Lumber? Check. Screws? Check. King-size Twix calling my name at the cashier? Double check.

I got everything home, got it unloaded, and formed a picture of what I was going to do. Take everything out of the garage, get everything off the walls, sweep it out, and get to work. I figured it would take most of the day just to do that and get the pegboard up. Since I didn’t want to be disturbed once I started, I took the dog for a walk. I did the laundry. I fixed lunch. I got the music blaring. I was ready.

As I reached for the first handful of stuff to drag out of there, a thought occurred to me. It was something along the lines of “I don’t know what just happened but my back has never hurt this bad before.” I might have left a few words out.

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I made my way back inside and collapsed onto the bed. That was two days ago. My garage is still a mess, even though I’ve got everything I need to fix it up. As I rest here in my bed, knees propped up, muscle relaxers doing their best, I can picture how I want my garage to look. But I can’t do it, at least not yet. I want my garage to be clean, but I’m not ready.

And sometimes my life is the same way. I want it to be neat and clean all the time, but that doesn’t happen. Things and circumstances can get in the way. Unexpected bills, lengthy illness, a bad back, or any of a thousand other things. But worst of all is sin.

I want to feel clean, and I want to feel the happiness that comes with it, but there’s sin in the way. Everything I need to clean it up is ready. The Bible, prayer, the Holy Spirit are all there. But cleanliness is not automatic. Christ died, forgiveness for believers is ready.

But I have to do one thing: I have to tell God what I’ve done, and I have to ask Him for forgiveness. Sure, He all ready knows. But He wants to hear it from me. And when I tell Him, it’s instantaneous. The sin is swept out, and I am made clean. Bad back and all.

Thank God.

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.  1 John 1:9

We analyzed trends, dug into databases, and did a quick Google search. We’d have pulled out the Urim and Thummim, but we lost them in our last move. (A bit of OT humor there… go to Matthew and turn left.) Everything pointed in the same direction. It’s clear what I must do.

Our target audience.
Photo courtesy of the Kheel Center.

I have to start my own boy band.

Granted, I’m over 50 years old and can’t sing or dance. The closest I get is when I straighten up after tying my shoes. “Oh oh oh. Baby, get the Advil.” But with a bit of creativity, I think I can pull this off.

Most of these groups have four or five kids. They seem to have millions of fans, but apparently don’t make enough money to afford a haircut. The young girls who flock to their concerts don’t seem to mind though. And there’s the problem. Young girls don’t have much money. Solution? Change the target audience.

My boy band is going after the middle-aged women. We’re not going to do any of that synchronized prancing-around-the-stage foolishness (although if my back goes out it may appear that I’m breakdancing).  None of those silly “Girl, yeah, girl, mmmm, girl, yeah, wash, rinse, repeat” lyrics either.

Nope. We know what our audience wants. We’ll write songs that are impossible to resist.

“Girl, it’s your hand I’m holdin’, and your laundry I’m foldin’.”

“Baby, you look thinner. I’m gonna cook you dinner.”

“Let’s go shopping. I’ll carry the bags.” (That one still needs a little work.)

You get the idea though. Money is practically guaranteed to flow into my bank account faster than you can say “Is that the guy from ‘N Sync?” It’s no secret. Just give the people what they want. An escape, albeit a temporary one, from the problems and drudgery of their everyday lives. A way to just stop for a little while and take a break from reality.

Sort of like Martha. She’s got a big Guest coming over, and is busy cooking and cleaning. Preparations have to be made. But when He gets there, she doesn’t stop. She’s busy doing this and that, making sure everything is just right.

Stop. Listen.
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Mary, her sister, isn’t helping, so Martha keeps giving her “the look”. You know the one. “Get over here and help me. NOW!” But Mary doesn’t come help. She sits on the floor, listening to their Guest.

Finally, Martha can’t stand it any more. She stamps her foot, sticks out her lower lip, and says, “Jesus, make her get over here and help me!”

Martha missed it. The cooking, the cleaning, that’s not what Jesus wanted.

Stop. Listen.

The everyday drudgery. Going to work. Mowing the yard. Doing the laundry. Repeat.

Stop. Listen.

You see, Jesus wants to redefine reality for believers. He wants His followers to have an eternal view, not a worldly one. By putting the focus on Him, our day-to-day lives become different. Changed. Our everyday existence takes on new meaning when we understand that there’s a purpose to it. Paul couldn’t have made it any clearer when he tells us that “…whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.”

Is God interested in our cooking and cleaning? Our job? Of course He is. But sometimes, when we’re especially overwhelmed, He points to Mary, sitting at the feet of Jesus. He simply wants to remind us of the Truth.

Stop. Listen. Thank God.