thoughts

I've been thinking about...thinking. If others could experience your thoughts as they occur, what would the experience be like? Would your thoughts be a stream of type, like the headlines that crawl across the bottom of the TV screen on, say, CNN or Fox News? Would they be a soundtrack, like a book-on-tape? Or would they be, like mine, videos with a narrator, like You Tube? I guess most people think visually, but it would be interesting to see. Do your thoughts occur single file, like the CNN crawler or a series of You Tube videos, or are they, like mine, a swirling kaleidoscope of imagery and soundtracks firing simultaneously and overlapping, competing for focus and prominence and attention? (Maybe I should delete that in case it's not normal and my imaginary audience will suspect I'm...unwound). Assuming your thoughts are visual in nature, what do you do with things unseen? Do you "see" the voices on radio, and then struggle to correct the image filed in your brain if you meet the voice? Did you, like me, initially think when the Lord of the Rings movies came out, "that's not what Bilbo or Frodo looks like!" (They did, however, get Gandalf right.) After adjusting to the Harry Potter, Hermione, Ron, and Hogwarts of the movies, my mental picture when reading later Potters had updated to their on screen version. And, how do you"see" God? Do you, when praying or meditating or seeking His presence hold onto a childhood image? Do you borrow images from The Shack or other literature? My dear friend, a pastor, and my spiritual parole officer recently used the imagery of "crawling onto Papa's lap" to lead into a congregational time of prayer.
Last evening, I stood at an intersection of paths-one Christ honoring, the other a dead-end, spiritually oblivious. I failed the test. I took the path of turning a cold shoulder, a deaf ear on one of Jesus' sheep that sought my help. That very day, my morning reading was about modeling Christ's love and gentleness, and felt moved to do so. Eight hours later, presented with an opportunity, I lapsed right back into heartlessness, ignoring a man in need. I realized it, but after the opportunity had passed. It bothered me all night. There has been a recent string of such failures. I showed absolutely no compassion to an elderly neighbor, who, deteriorating with Alzheimer's, had the nerve to inconvenience me by wandering into our home unannounced. What a lesson I learned when my wife, Lori, put her arms around him, saying Oh, Honey, and gently, lovingly, helped him home. I felt like the village buffoon. Again, only a few weeks later, an auto mechanic dropped the ball getting my son's car ready for him. There was an important deadline, with plenty of time to get it done, but it was not. Dissatisfaction was a proper response. But I unloaded with both barrels-loudly, profanely, directed at people not really responsible-and in front of my son. A teachable moment indeed. I taught him I'm an idiot. Once again, I felt terrible 24 hours later, and in fact, apologized to the garageman with whom I am still friends. Then last evening, while I was on the phone and feeling annoyed by business stuff, a man came into my business seeking work. He specifically ask if I might need him to clean snow off of cars. I blew him off-"No, Sorry," and right back to the phone. Minutes later I began thinking what courage it would take, what neediness would prompt a middle-aged man to seek such menial work. Maybe all he wanted was enough to buy a bottle of Thunderbird, but Jesus would have engaged him and found out, not just hope he'd leave.
Tuesday mornings I usually meet in Hanover with a couple of brothers (including the aforementioned parole officer) with whom I've shared these recent failures. It's about a 40 minute drive, so the trip there is an opportunity to seek God's blessing on the conversation to come, meditate on and pray about many areas of my life. Today, as I approached my Father to
"discuss" my newest failure the image of God, the picture, in my thoughts was a new one. Ronald Reagan. Picture Ronald Reagan during the famous debate with Jimmy Carter, when in response to some Carter point, Reagan got that twinkle in his eyes, tilted his head just a little like everyone's gentle, sympathetic Grampa, pursed his lips in that "you know better" way, and said, "There you go again...". In four words he made Jimmy Carter look like a sheepish little boy wearing his Dad's suit, playing President. That's exactly the "look" I got from God in my mind. An already knowing, gently rebuking, slow shake of the head, but an encouraging, still loving, Grampa like twinkle in his eyes. On the return trip, as well, bolstered and encouraged by my friend, I ask my Father to, again, bring me another opportunity to be his hands and feet and to help me recognize it. When I got back to my work, there were 3 phone messages. One was from the fellow I dismissed so coldly last evening, in case I changed my mind! I called him back; he's coming in tomorrow to help clean snow. Now Ronald Reagan is smiling at me with a big toothy grin, and that loving sparkle in his eyes.
jls