Jealous Jaws

     There’s an old fable about a contented dog that paused at the crest of a bridge to adjust a bone in his mouth. He breathed in with a deep sense of satisfaction. Life was good in that moment, but something caught its attention just before he continued. Peering over the edge he saw in the water another dog with a bone looking very happy. In that instant a thought occurred to him: the other dog's bone was probably better. If he could

seize it he would have two bones and twice the joy. The bone he was salivating over just a minute ago became as uninteresting as last year’s pop songs.
    Our friend, the dog, was not particularly thoughtful. The idea that the dog in the water might like to keep his bone never entered his mind. The same is true of all thoroughly selfish people. So, he ran around on the bridge whining with bone in mouth and obsession in mind. He didn’t want to leave his lesser possession on the bridge for fear another dog might slurp it up. Finally, he convinced himself that he could attack the water dog and deprive him of his bone without first going to bury his own. By now he had worked himself up into a slobbering mess with a wild look in his eyes. Without another thought he hurled himself over the rail and hit the water with fangs barred...boneless.
     The water was colder than he anticipated and confusion took over. Where was the water dog? Why had he not been able to grasp both bones with his jealous jaws? He thrashed about thinking the dog had taken a plunge at the last second, but no matter how much he swam around he could not find his quarry. Disappointment turned to horror as the reality of his situation became clear. Horror turned to embarrassment, followed by regret and shame. Why had he been so stupid? How did he let his jealousy get the better of him? He was undone by canine covetousness.
     A simple search reveals dozens of Bible verses on jealousy and envy. Take James 3:16 for example: “For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice.” As with most sins, the one who suffers most  is us. We the jealous become we the boneless in a soaking splash of irony.
     A thought occurred to me the other day as I considered how much time people are spending at home these days. With time on our hands we are more able to obsess over a neighbor’s good fortune to have a lawn tractor. There is finally time to switch out the winter clothes and think about how much happier we’d be dressed like so and so. Some of us know all the gossip about celebrities and pine for a fraction of their glamour. Our jealous jaws snap at this and that, always a little poorer and hungrier.

Godliness with contentment is great gain.   — 1Timothy 6:6

Who Holds the Pen?

     I’ve often dreamed of writing a book and having it published. There are several reasons why that hasn’t happened yet. One of them is a lack of inspiration. I can’t imagine writing something more than a few short paragraphs that could tear someone away from streaming an episode of their favorite show. Being a recognized author has to be one of the hardest things someone could aspire to be.
     I remember some of the first books I learned to read. One of them was about a man named Tim. He had a tin can for a head and he could run. Very creative. The words on the pages were as big as Flintstone vitamins. The first book I can remember being proud of “reading“ was The Little Red Caboose. It was one of the “Little Golden Books.” I had my mom read it to me so many times that I memorized the words. I would recite it to impress adults before I had a clue how to interpret the funny symbols on the pages.
     As we grow in our reading ability we graduate to chapter books. My kids liked a series called, The Magic Treehouse. I grew up on The Hardy Boys. They have good chapters that always give us readers something to tease us into the next one. Chapters open and chapters close. We complete one and enter another. In that sense, chapters are good metaphors for waypoints in life. Our lives are like chapter books marked by big events. One of the biggest is graduating from high school.
     I graduated in a royal blue gown with that funny hat and a gold tassel. I couldn’t remember which way to turn the tassel so I may not have “officially” graduated. I left out any reference to that on my college admission applications, just in case. Looking back, I can remember sensing that a chapter in my life was closing. I didn’t want it to happen. I wanted to stay in high school, but some chapters close whether we want them to or not.
     As the pages of our life’s story fill up we have to come to grips with the fact that there are things we can and can’t control. The high school years come and go whether we like it or not. Tucking little children into bed doesn’t last forever. When we move to a new house a chapter closes. When our last son or daughter moves out a chapter closes and we become “Empty Nesters.” We finish each chapter hoping the next one is as good as the last.
     Occasionally, I think about who has the pen as my story unfolds. Sometimes I feel like it’s me. Other times I feel it’s not. It hasn’t escaped my notice that one of the names for Jesus in the Bible is “The Author of Life” (Acts 3:15). Have you ever stopped to think about what that means? Authors are the ones with the pens. There is a sense in which we could all say that we are, at best, co-authors in our own lives.
     I have become convinced that each life story is written with a single pen. There are times when there is a struggle for control. We can get very angry and stubborn when we don’t have the pen. The Christian life, however, is about learning to yield the pen to the one who knows us better than we know ourselves. Surrender is the only way to arrive at a satisfying conclusion to our life’s story.
     Who has the pen in your life right now? Is it you, or is it Jesus? Is there anything keeping you from handing over your pen to the Author of Life?

On Eating Frogs

     I've been told that frog legs taste like chicken. I don't buy it--frogs don't look like chickens so I can't convince myself they taste like them either.

     I once saw a blue heron swallow a swollen slimy frog in one oversized gulp. I believe it was still alive as it slid down the bird's slender throat. Another time my brother and I hunted the most enormous frogs you ever saw at a camp lake in Pennsylvania. There are some pictures of us somewhere holding our prey with their hind legs extended down to our kneecaps. I think that the "frogs give you warts" idea is a myth. If it were true we would have had more warts than a cackling old witch.
     Frogs can make for a good metaphor. I learned this while reading a book on managing time and priorities by Mark DeVries. In the book, he says we all have a frog to eat each day. He assumes that the reader will find this idea revolting. A whole frog? That's gross. So he grabs onto it and explains that the frog represents that one thing you have to do each day that you really need to do but really don't want to do. It's that thing that really will change your life but it's hard, nasty, boring, or some other word that leads us to shrink back in disgust. He goes on to say that frogs come in different sizes, but the important thing is that we eat them. Why? Because tomorrow has its own frog and you don't want to find yourself with two on your plate.
     We learn from the Bible that frogs can tend to multiply. That's true of tasks and unaddressed items on our "to-do" lists as well. See, we don't get to choose whether there is a frog on our plate each day. We can't tell the waiter we'd like the pork chop instead. Those marble-like eyes inevitably stare up at us whether we like it or not.
     When students look at homework, the assignment that's most annoying is probably the frog. When we think about chores around the house, the one we've been dreading is probably the frog. Making dinner might be the frog, or folding the Mount Everest of laundry. Whatever is most important and either most difficult or most unenjoyable on our lists each day is the frog.
     If I don't eat today's frog because I just can't bring myself to do it or was just plain lazy I will end up with two frogs tomorrow...and three the next day. Before long we're in as bad a shape as the Egyptians when Moses was around. Speaking of Moses, it was he who prayed this to the LORD: "Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom" (Ps. 90:12) I wonder if he was thinking about doing the most important things as he listened to the croaking of frogs in the distance.
     I don't like the reality that the things that will impact my life the most--the things that really matter--tend to be the things I leave till last on my list for the day. My inner procrastinator will allow me to check off the easy, fluffy, and simple tasks without much of a fight. Frogs on the other hand?...Let the battle begin!
     I have discovered that eating frogs is best done before lunch. The longer I wait the more impact it has on my day. If I eat it early I can spend the rest of the day free from the dread of eating frogs and work on more enjoyable things. If we procrastinate, it tends to dominate our thinking and weigh us down with negative emotions.
     Proverbs 21:5 says, "The plans of the diligent lead surely to abundance." Diligence means doing work in a careful, persistent, and timely fashion. Sounds like Solomon was thinking of frog eaters. Please pass the salt and pepper. 
   

What Pets Can Teach Us During the Coronavirus

About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them.

                               --Acts 16:25

     We have two cats, but I’m not a cat person. Ever since the day we discovered that I’m allergic to them I’ve looked at them as the enemy of my health. Do you like cats? I’m willing to admit that some cats are okay.

Ginny

     Last night we put both cats outside. The weather was warm, so we didn't think it would do them any harm. Ginny took the opportunity to explore, hunt, and exercise. She loves to catch things and bring them to the back door or stash them in her collection under the deck. The latest unfortunate creature she added was a short snake. It was slightly less cute than the large-eared gray and white mouse she brought us a couple of nights ago. We are waiting for that terrible day when she proudly presents us with the gift of a dead baby bird from the nest in the maple tree. So, it's reasonably safe to say that Ginny likes being outside. I'm not good enough at reading felines to say she prefers it to being inside. She seems just as content curling up on Sam's dog bed or pretending she's a rabbit--hopping around and chasing a toy mouse in the house. Basically, she seems content wherever she happens to be at the time. If Heidi ever had that noble characteristic, it is long gone.
     Heidi has been with us for seven years--a gift from friends who already had two cats. For reasonable people, two cats are enough and they were quite reasonable. Now, reasonable is not a word I would use to describe our older cat. Neither is 'content' for that matter. While Ginny was making the most of her outside opportunity last night Heidi wasted the whole night as far as I can tell.

Heidi

     I've been up a lot during the nights this past month with back, leg and foot problems (that's a whole story in itself). When the pain keeps me awake I get up and hobble past the back door to the kitchen. Last night was particularly sleepless so I was up even more than usual so I can say I'm pretty certain what Heidi did all night long. She sat looking through the glass into the house wishing desperately to come back inside. As the darkness gave way to first light her patience wore thin and she started meowing. She continued without interruption until she was let in more than two hours later.
     It occurred to me that people can be like either of our two cats. Some take life as it comes and make the best of whatever situation in which they find themselves. Others can't enjoy their current situation because all they can think about is wanting to be somewhere else doing something else. They "meow" in different ways but the message is still the same.
     When we look at the Bible characters we see that there are some who aren't to blame for their situation, like Job or Paul and Silas in prison. Job cried out in sorrow and pain for God to answer him. It seems unfair to call that 'meowing.' He suffered a great deal.  So did Paul and Silas in Acts 16. They were beaten with rods and thrown in prison. Instead of 'meowing' they began singing and proved that they could rise above their unwelcome circumstance. Their response to difficulty was so extraordinary it astonished the jailer who begged them to tell him how to find that same ability. Others, like kings Ahab and Solomon spent all their energy meowing through the glass trying to find contentment by getting what they didn't already have.
     As we live through the Coronavirus social distancing rules some of us will react like Ginny and some like Heidi. We may not get to choose our circumstances, but nothing can take away our ability to choose how we react to them. In every difficulty, there is an opportunity for those who are determined enough to find it.