So, what can you do when you realize there's an accident about to happen and you can do nothing to avoid being part of it? Well, you're best bet it to try to limit the damage.
Occasionally when I'm in a store and it's time to pay up, I'll just say to the sales person, "Do you accept cash?" You should see the look! I get this bewildered kind of look, and they're like, "Well, of course we accept cash." Well, it may be the first cash they've gotten in several transactions though. It's probably a given that they see more "plastic" money than "paper" money these days.
It took me a while to get up the courage to clean our garage. It might have taken you time to do it too, if you had seen what shape it was in! I mean, there was the general accumulated "mess" that hadn't been touched for awhile. And then there was the mess left from youth ministry stored there. On top of that, different members of our family and staff had been going, and borrowing and returning, and borrowing and returning, and oh my goodness! The mess was there.
This has got to be one of the great engineering feats in the world - packing the trunk of our car for a family trip. Oh, boy, those were the days. Maybe you can relate to that. We had a family of five; quite a challenge to get all of that luggage in one trunk. So, I would stuff every corner, trying the suitcases every which way, and then I'd see if there was something the kids could sit on during the trip. And if all else failed, I called my wife and she could figure it out. Finally, you get it all in, but just barely of course.
I think I've lost the same five pounds 200 times. That's enough to make about six of me! Actually, I used to weigh 55 pounds more a number of years ago, and I lost it. But that's no great accomplishment. As anybody will tell you who has that same battle, the challenge is to keep it off. So I set 160 pounds as my ceiling, and kind of 155 is an anchor weight. And as my weight creeps up there, which it often does, I yell down to the engine room, "Reverse all engines! It's time to go to work!" Frankly, it's just too hard to fight 20 or 25 pounds. It's much smarter, I've learned, to fight the problem when it's a baby than when it's full grown.
When you're a little kid, they're pretty rough on you if you tell on somebody else. Remember? Oh, maybe that happened to you. Oh, the names they call you when you do that are not particularly complimentary: tattle-tale, traitor; depending on your generation - rat fink. Those are the nice names. It gets worse than that. Kids almost get to feeling that telling about something wrong is worse than doing something wrong. That's not true.
Our local high school team won the state championship in football one year, and the coach gave at least one reason in the newspaper. He said, "We have mastered the two-minute offense. In other words, you have to know how to do the "hurry up" offense and get a lot done in a short time in order to be a championship team, like when there's only two minutes left in the first half or the end of the game.
When my wife and I were raising our three children, communication during the early morning shift at our house was, shall we say, non-verbal. There I was, getting ready for my day. The kids were getting ready for school, and my wife was doing her role of maid, chef, valet, chauffeur.
There are those moments when I make life much harder than it has to be, and in fact sometimes I wonder if I'm slipping. There was a time not too long ago when I looked frantically for my house keys. And, of course, I mobilized the whole family and said, "I've got to get out of here! I'm running late! Everybody go on a search mission; we've got to find my keys." I found them in the door right where I'd left them.
Okay, question for the day. What's the different between a melting pot and a stew? Oh, yeah, there is a difference! You see, a melting pot is where all the ingredients blend together and pretty soon you can't tell what is what. In other words, the ingredients lose their separate identity.
When you hear about the weather on the East Coast, you almost always hear about a place called Cape Hatteras. It's a barrier reef off the coast of North Carolina; it's been called the Graveyard of the Atlantic. And it's probably the storm center of the East Coast. In fact, when you look at the map or hear the weatherman in the morning he'll say, "There's a blizzard off of Cape Hatteras. There's a hurricane off of Cape Hatteras. There's a major storm system off of Cape Hatteras."
It all started when my Dad helped some people lift a piano. There were not enough men to lift it, but they all thought they could handle it. And the next thing I knew, my Dad ended up in the hospital for a hernia operation, all because of lifting that big piano. He never should have tried to lift that much. You know what? I'm talking to somebody now who is sweating, and straining to lift...oh, not a piano! But it might be something you were never meant to lift.
You know, a hand shake just isn't what it used to be. It used to be all that you needed to guarantee an agreement between two people. There aren't very many deals done today on just a hand shake. If someone says they'll do something, out come the papers, the contract, the warranties, the fine print, the lawyers, the notary public. I've learned from following my wife around antique stores, where we've mostly just looked, that the less there are of certain objects the more valuable that one is. That's true of people too. In a world where words are cheap, you can be one of a rare and priceless breed.
Our oldest son was only two years old when our neighbor's daughter, Kim, broke her leg. Now, on the scale of world disasters, Kim's leg wouldn't even move the needle. But it was a very big disaster to our two-year-old son. We got the news, and when we did we stopped, and as a family we prayed for Kim. We were done, but my son wasn't. All day that day he kept coming up to Mom while she was at the sink or the stove, cleaning the bedroom, or whatever. And he tugged on her pant leg, and she would say, "Yes?" And he would say, "Pray for Kim."
As married people, it's been sometimes amusing to watch the little "soap operas" of teenage romances that have gone on in our family. And, you know, we would watch knowingly, as young couples would go through the same struggles we did trying to figure out the opposite sex and what is love all about? Every once in a while, those young romances become a mirror, and some of us veterans learn something about how our older romances should be.
Where I grew up in the North, they call it the Civil War; where my wife grew up in the South, they call it the War Between the States. No matter what you call it, you'd have to admit that one of the war's greatest heroes was General Thomas Jackson.
Arnold Schwarzenegger - now, that's not exactly a stage name. But, boy, he became a star! And in case you haven't been around for a while, you know Arnold Schwarzenegger became one of Hollywood's hottest properties and then the Governor of California; the body builder who became a movie star. In fact, I'm often mistaken for him on the street. Uh-huh. He's made the cover of magazines, and apparently when he's in a movie it has guaranteed a big draw at the gate.
Someone said the best cure for the population explosion would be if men had to have every other baby. That would slow it down considerably! I'll tell you, there's something that women know about that process, though, that leads to life. A woman, particularly in her first pregnancy, is introduced to a long, sometimes very difficult life process. She knows she wants the baby; there's no question about the results, but it's the process she has some questions about sometimes: nausea, discomfort, her body's doing things it never did before. And the months sometimes feel like years. And last but not least, there are the labor pains. That day alone can seem like one of the longest in her life. But then...then the baby comes.
They're the guys who wear dark glasses, talk to their wrist, and wear that trademark stone face. Yep! They're the almost legendary Secret Service agents who guard the life of the President of the United States.
My friend, Steve, was recently named a finalist for one of America's most prestigious scholarships. It's for graduate students, and it's loaded with benefits. You notice I always hang around smart people, hoping that something will rub off on me. Well, anyway, some applicants were cut on the basis of their application. So they narrowed down the group and then they invited the survivors to a party where the number would be cut to a handful who would be interviewed.