Today is a warm day in Chicagoland. Really this whole week has been!
My boys decided today was the day to break out the good ole lemonade stand. My 10-year-old Hunter was the ring leader of some neighbor kids and he got the supplies, change, and of course, comfy chairs for these captains of industry to sit in fine style.
Occasionally throughout the day, I would get a market report from him on how the traffic was going, how much of a fortune they had created and whether Inc. 500 had called to do a cover on them. Well, okay, that last one was just a fleeting daydream...sorry.
Finally the time came to go outside and have them clean up and prepare for other mountains to climb tonight as a family. Namely, getting three boys to want to clean up and look nice for church. Ugghh.
Once outside, Hunter began describing their strategy. It included a stationary location for the "store" and two wandering kids with signs trying to lure the passing traffic over. This was very impressive. He even called it their "advertising"!
But the best for me was their overall strategy to hit this seniors' community of duplexes down the street. They understood the heart-pull of grandmas and grandpas seeing little ones selling lemonade.
Is that cool? I was so proud of him and the company. I even mentioned helping them build a more visible "booth" for them and potentially a mobile cart to get those grandparents down the road. You recognize this of course...it is the heart speaking through the mouth and bypassing the brain!
I can now see that the enjoyment I had in watching them sell their lemonade and act so sophisticated, just changed into a vision of me, tools, parts and lots of frustrating moments confirming my ineptitude mechanically.
Oh well...what a ride it is to parent children...I think I'll just savor the moment for now...
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John Tuttle...now there was a true American. He gave his pay for the orphans of Korea, was a real patriot and ended up dying in a fall from a helicopter, and was awarded a medal (posthumously).
What a guy!!
Of course, well, he actually never existed. It was a great MASH episode, which must mean I am as old as the hills.
Isn't it easy to admire an exterior or a myth of someone? We have a culture that admires all the wrong things. It holds up the thin, gaunt and extreme. It heralds the heavily-in-debt, but nicely dressed and big-housed. (is that a word?) It celebrates the toothy white grin and the $50k car that is shiny, fast and trendy.
As I mentioned before, I live in a vanila ghetto chock full of the rich, beautiful and fabulous. Growing up very poor, this place has become my 'Nineva" if you get my metaphor.
(Stepping down from my pompous soap box)
I was ready to write a scathing opinion piece about all the people that I passed on the way home tonight in my commute. I was going to say that I am easily annoyed at those less holy than I. BECAUSE, you know, I ...I can tell that in the five seconds in whcih I or they pass in our cars.
THEN...I re-read my earlier post. Oops! Any idea about my "predjudice" or whom I wish not to serve.
Quite a lesson for the big dummy.
Why don't we all gather around and sing "Jesus Loves Me", holding hands and smiling loudly. Ahh...that may make it feel better.
Thanks for listening. I feel better.
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My pastor says we live in the "vanilla ghetto". It is bordered by areas of heavy urban population and a very large migrant worker population.
In my last post I mentioned being at the DMV and noticing all the spanish speakers. I think my first thought was, "Wow! Is this America or did I take a wrong turn into Latin America?" Then I really kicked myself and decided not to continue that line of thinking.
Ever since I was a pre-teen when my best friend in whole world was Jose Lara, I have a heart for latinos. I like their food, their family orientation, their music, their "ethos".
I see us walk by them in stores, get angry because they don't speak our language, and generally just look down on them. I'd love to say these are not God's people acting this way, but we all know better. I think it is easier to evangelize or help another color or people group when we get on a plane and find them in their native environment. Perhaps it is safer for us to minister to them there and then go back to our surroundings and put it away until next time.
Don't be fooled with my hyperbole...I am as guilty or more so than the rest. My particular form of separatism may seem holier in my eyes than everyone else's issues. You know the bible talks about our obsession with the splinter in another's eye while we have a plank in ours.
I'm not sure how to overcome my "blessed assurance" and get into living out my feelings for these folks that seem to tug at my heart. Prayer can illuminate paths or change my inertia. I'll work on that.
Buenos Noches!
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Inaugural voyages are either joyous or terrifying depending on your point of view.
Let's hope for the best and suggest that we all put on the orange vests and ensure you know the quickest way to the lifeboats.
OK...let me try my hand at this blog nonsense.
I was sitting in the DMV, or Department of Motor Vehicle, for the uninitated. I was with my son and we were registering a new car for license plates. Well, not new as it is 14 years old.
It was an interesting experience... as that type of trip always is.
It is late and I won't get to my full point until next time. Let me put a bit in this entry. The office was full of Mexican Americans that were desperately trying to understand the English of the signs, people on staff and the numerous government forms. In that type of situation, I felt my ministry heart stirring and the overall need for someone "anglo" to help this large group of immigrants settle into this world and receive the love of Christ.
I hope to write more about this desire in the future. For now, let's remember where the lifeboats are and how to tie these flotation devices in case this ship sinks.
Ahoy!