Food and Faith

I never liked Sloppy Joe day at school.  The sloppiness of joe would cause the bread that it was splattered upon to become too soggy to pick up and eat.  Actually eating one was like putting a whole lot of nasty in my mouth and feeling obligated to finish the job by swallowing without really chewing.  Like vomitting in reverse.

Chili day was always perplexing to me.  Nowhere else but in a school cafeteria would chili be served with half of a peanut butter sandwich.  Why a peanut butter sandwich and why only half?  “Here, kid–eat this bowl of barely recognizable swill.  And to go with it, here’s something that makes no sense that you actually might be able to stomach, but you only get half.”

Friday’s were much better.  I approached going to the cafeteria on Fridays with gleeful abandon knowing that I would get to eat something that I half-way enjoyed–a hamburger.  Alright, it was more relief that I didn’t have to try to eat anything gross than gleeful abandon and it was really some type of hamburger that did not contain anything closely related to real meat.  But that didn’t matter.  It was still something that half-way excited me, which is more emotion than I can muster for most foods now.

I still have my favorites.  Chicken-n-dumplings would be good for every meal followed by an overwhelming bowl of Rocky Road ice cream.  I fully expect this to be the menu every day in Heaven.  My wife’s aunt believes that she’s going to have a mansion built for her right beside a chocolate river when she reaches her eternal reward.  My mother-in-law expects to be greeted by all of her dead animals (except for Dolly) when she makes it inside the gate.  It is a widely held belief among certain family members that Dolly, a cocker spaniel with a wicked temper, busted Hell wide open when she assumed room temperature.  Compararatively speaking, my chicken-n-dumpling/rocky road theory doesn’t sound too crazy, does it?

Even though I like those two foods, I don’t really get wild-eyed in my excitement for either.  There is one thing, though, that truly brings out the culinary beast that is lurking deep inside of me.  One thing that causes me to transform from a mild-mannered, nerdish kind of a guy into a hybrid of Paula Deen and the Incredible Hulk.  “HULK EAT, YA’LL!”

And that one thing is….

Seeing the “Hot Now” sign lit up at a Kristy Kreme Doughnut location.  Just wring those words has caused drool to begin forming at both sides of my mouth.  Pavlov’s dogs had a bell, I have the “Hot Now” sign.  I have no problem admitting this and you shouldn’t either.  I know that gluttony is a sin, but you have to eat at least more than four at one time for this to qualify, right?  Maybe not, but that’s what I’ll go with for now.

Kristy and I were drawn to the Krispy Kreme on Broadway by that sign a few weeks ago.  But instead of sinking our teeth into delightly fresh doghnuts, we experienced stunning disappointment. 

Inexplicably, I allowed my lovely wife talk me in to taking her and the kids to a livestock auction in Halls.  If you have never been to an auction of this nature, do yourself a favor and keep it that way.  It was crowded, loud, smelly, and a little fascinating.  Fascination can only overcome so much. 

After the auction was cut short and everyone in attendance was asked leave by people whom I assume were the owners, we did the sensible thing and left.  One of them threatened to turn the electricity off if we all weren’t gone in 15 minutes.  I was amazed at the number of people that didn’t leave.  If there is anything rednecks love more than Skoal and Dale Earnhardt, it’s a good riot.

We drove to a restaurant on Broadway to eat a late supper and that is when we saw the “Hot Now” sign on at the the Krispy Kreme across the street.  I looked at Kristy and she looked at me, our eyebrows went up at the same time, and I knew that we were in agreement about our next stop.  The sign became unlit before we finished our meal, but that did not matter.  We were going.

On our way there, Kristy said that we should get a dozen for us and a dozen for her sister who volunteers on Saturday nights with a local Rescue Squad.  I told her that her idea was fine with me.  She could have suggested that we buy a dozen for us and buy another dozen to mail to Kim Jong-il; as long as I got to have some, it really didn’t matter to me.

I pulled into their parking lot and headed to the drive-thru with my mind enraptured with the thought of feasting on doughuts.  I made it to the speaker and rolled down my window, but before I could place my order the voice on the other end delivered mind-blowing information.

They were out of glazed donuts!

I stared in silent disbelief at the speaker for a few eternal seconds.  Then I looked at Kristy, totally at a loss for what to do.  It was unfathomable and I was incredulous.  I told the bearer of bad news that we would be leaving and drove off, mouth agape. 

How could Krispy Kreme be out of the one thing that they are known for?  When I go to Taco Bell, I expect them to have tacos.  When I go to a bookstore, I expect to them to have books? When I go to a flea-market, I expect them to have a lot of crap that I don’t need.  And when I go to Krispy Kreme, I expect them to have glazed donuts.

Later that night, I began thinking about our trip to Krispy Kreme and the disappointment that ensued.  I came to the conclusion that Krispy Kreme not having glazed donuts is not as bad as Christians not having faith, love, power, courage, and all of the other attributes that should be present.

If you were to read the book of Acts without ever having the experience of being around believers are attending any church services, what would you expect believers and churches to be like?  You would probably expect Christians to be dynamic, full of power, and teeming with excitement.  You would probably expect church services to be a demonstration of the Holy Spirit’s presence.

You probably would not expect to find what you would  probably find; Christians more concerned with style than substance who exhibit little enthusiasm and no power and church services that are dull and lifeless.

There are plenty of theories on how things got this way.  From Christians neglecting the Holy Spirit, to us not praying with fervency for what matters most, to the consumer mindset that has infiltrated so many churches, to a lack of holiness among the Body of Christ, to a whole list of items that could depress us to the point of breaking down.

More important than how this happened is what we need to do about it. 

We need to confess to God our sins.  We need to plead for Him to fill us with the Holy Spirit.  We need to walk by faith and not be sight.  We need to be more concerned with following Christ than we are with our own comfort.  We need need more people interested in serving than in being served. 

We need to be shaken.

I once heard someone say that the Body of Christ is walking with a limp; I’m afraid that we are not walking at all.

Krispy Kreme not having what they are know for was disappointing.  Christians and churches not having what we should be known for is a shame. 

More than that, it is sin.

I pray for forgiveness and for a new awakening among the people of God.  I pray for God to make Himself heard through the noise and chaos that has invaded our lives.  I pray that we are made uncomfortable with how things are so that we will seek diligently for how things ought to be.

And I pray that it happens soon.

Ramblings of Praise, Part 5

How long must this struggle continue?  How long must I wait for the culmination of the victory?

Though I am a new creation, still the urge to depart from Your truth is present; the desire to lean on my own understanding persists.

Day after day I am reminded of Your greatness; night after night all that I see declares that You are exalted above the nations.

Groans rise up from my soul; despairing groans as one who longs for an unatainable goal.

The holiness of my God is piercing; the righteousness of the Holy One removes my ability to hide.

The war in my members grows in intensity; becoming greater than those who surround me comprehend. 

Staggered by the blows that I deal to myself, I do not dare surrender. 

Wearied by the constant combat; weakened from fending off unseen foes; weeping inwardly for the end to be near.

Surely You have heard my plea, O God!  Surely You care for my life!

Why must there be a delay?  Why must I keep going?

You love me, yet offer no answers; You have known the end from the beginning, but refuse to let me see.

The command to trust the One who I can not see through trials that seem to have no end is placed before me. 

Pleading for strength, I continue on; praying for persistence, I brace for the fight.

Help me trust You, O God, so that my life may bring You glory as the war inside of me continues to rage.

Let me remain near to You so that I may gain wisdom at Your feet.

Keep me in Your path all of my days so that all may see that Your grace is enough for even the weakest of them all.

I Am Not a Pansy

As I child, I didn’t know many men who looked like Mr. McGowan.  He was the gym teacher at Sunnyview Elementary School and it seemed like he was almost seven feet tall.  Of course, he was much shorter than that.  The illusion of remarkable height was probably made possible by his short, gym-teacher shorts (the ones with the big waist band and way too many pockets), his knee high tube socks with 3 horizontal stripes at the top, and his extra-long torso covered with a skin-tight shirt.  I half expected his shirt to explode open from the strain every time he demonstrated how to do a back-bend.

I remember him lining all of the kids in my class up in rows to begin our state-mandated time of exercise.  He would demand silence and march back and forth like he was a general preparing his wide-eyed pre-pubescent soldiers to storm and seize control of the rest of the school.  I’m not sure how far we would have gotten, but I know we could have taken control of the library before the cross-eyed librarian knew what hit her.  The cafeteria would have been our Waterloo.

As he peered at us, I often felt like I was being watched by a bird of prey.  His nose was elongated and beak-like; sort of like the tip of it was afraid of the rest of his face and was trying to get as far away as possible.  His eyes were also eagle-ish and I am sure that there is no life on other planets; if there were Mr. McGowan would have seen them from here and alerted the proper authorities. 

Now, I am sure that Mr. McGowan enjoyed his job and took seriously the responsibility he had of helping us live better, healthier, and longer.  He was successful at holding our attention and, for the most part, making the class fun.  I really did like him.  However, there were times when I felt like choking him with his own whistle-string.

In my opinion, there are better ways to motivate a child than by calling him a pansy.  Mr. McGowan disagreed.

At the time, I didn’t know that a pansy was a flower.  All I knew was that it was what Mr. McGowan called students when they couldn’t do all of their push-ups or sit-ups or when they couldn’t run as long as the others.  And it sounded far worse than calling someone a sissy.

Most of the time, it really did not bother me.  I knew what he was trying to do and I respected him for pushing us to do the best that we could do.  It did bother me, though, in those times when I did do the best that I could do and he called me a pansy anyway.  Being a kid with a low self-esteem to begin with didn’t help.

Since that time, I have been called things far worse than pansy.  I know that you have, too.  In fact, what people have said and done to you may be far worse than anything anyone has ever said or done to me.  We live in a world filled with evil and we can’t always be protected from it. 

But we can control our reaction to it by not allowing the words and deeds of others to define who we are.

We are not something just because we are labeled a certain way or treated a certain way.  You are not trash, stupid, dumb, ugly, retarded, a whore, useless, arrogant, ridiculous, hateful, mean, fat, brainless, meaningless, slow, gross, hideous, repugnant, scum, filthy, or anything else just because someone calls you that or treats you that way.

You are a creation of Almighty God.  You are one for whom Jesus died.  You have a reason to exist. 

And if you have accepted the gift of salvation, you have the Holy Spirt dwelling within you.

It’s amazing what people believe about themselves.  It’s astonishing that we allow other people to have so much control over our emotions.  It’s sad that so many suffer without knowing the truth.

I am not a pansy. 

You are not worthless.

We have a great God who designed us as we are and loves us completely.

When I was a child and feeling down, I would wait until my mother sat down and work my way onto her lap.  I knew if I made it there that I would be comforted, loved, and encouraged.

It is the same with God.  As we come to Him, we can know that He will never turn us away and in His arms we will always find perfect comfort, unending love, and divine encouragement. 

Maybe you need to stop whatever you are doing and rest in His lap for a few moments.  There is nothing quite like it.

Ramblings of Praise, Part 4

As I rose this morning and peered out at the world, I knew again of Your greatness.

Fog, dew, creatures all bathed in the light of the early morning sang praises in my soul to Your great name.

With the morning came busyness and distractions,

Yet You created in me a heart meant to praise; so I gave glory to You in the midst of chaos.

Your attributes, Your character, Your complete otherness astounds me;

The miracle of Your love for those so unworthy takes my mind into captivity.

Compared to Your grandeur, O God, I am less than a worm, more putrid than a maggot, below the level of uselessness.

But You have chosen to lift me up;

You have chosen to redeem;

You have chosen to sanctify.

Having no speck of goodness in my flesh, You chose to gift me with the righteousness of Your Son.

It is in Christ alone that I am able to stand before You;

It is in trusting the sacrifice that He gave.

Though I was once counted among the heathen, I am now counted as Your child. 

Though I was once doomed for destruction, I am now walking in the Spirit.

Though I was born in iniquity, I have been born again to live in Your presence.

O my God, may the splendor that I see in Your creation be apparent in my life;

May Your brightness that is displayed in the heavens be reflected in my countenance;

May I ever be found bringing glory to Your name.

Though the years pass and my body grows weary, may I be found praising God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit,

Forever.

Amen.