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Dan Francis

After over three decades of managing and motivating people in the local church as a pastor, I now spend my waking hours heralding the call for living in redemptive, reconciled relationships. I simply call them “stay in the room” relationships.

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Public and Private Legacies

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I can write about no other subject.  I tried.  I tried to wait for more information.  I tried to wait for more understanding.  I even tried to wait for the decision to come from the board of Penn State University who are meeting as I write.  I suspect everyone reading this knows the details of this horrible turn of events.

Joe Paterno, the head football coach of the Penn State Nittanny Lions for 46 years, is now linked to a horrible scandal involving his former defensive coordinator, Jerry Sandusky.  Almost a decade ago, a graduate assistant in the football program witnessed Mr. Sandusky sexually abusing a young boy and reported it to Coach Paterno.  He referred the allegation to the athletic director and university vice president, but neither took action.

While the obvious tragedy being choreographed in the press is that of the famous coach, the greater tragedy clearly relates to 8 boys who were allegedly abused by Paterno’s assistant over a 15-year period.  Amid a 23-page Grand Jury report that is not for the squeamish, a path of childhood destruction is detailed.  Two details struck me. 

First, there was a “very credible” witness to one of the actual abuses and second, there is testimony that children not only stayed at the perpetrator’s home, but even went to church with him.  My mind sadly sank to a verse I often read when dedicating a child:  Jesus said, “Let the children alone, and do not hinder them from coming to Me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”

I, then, thought of another football story.  A story of childhood frolic and cartoon characters eerily birthed almost exactly 59 years ago.  You know it well.  Lucy holds a football for Charlie Brown in a Peanuts comic and just when he raises his foot to kick it, she pulls it away and he screams, “Don’t ever do that again!”

A theme in the Charlie Brown saga throughout the years has consistently been trust and security.  This is not surprising given the cartoon’s target audience.  One such story has Charlie and Peppermint Patty leaning against a tree on a beautiful spring day and the conversation goes like this. 

Peppermint Patty says: “Chuck, what do you think security is?”
Charlie Brown says: “Security?  Security is sleeping in the back seat of the car when you’re a little kid and you’ve been somewhere with your mom and dad… and it’s night time.  You’re riding in the car and you can sleep in the back seat and you don’t have to worry about anything.  Your mom and dad are in the front seat and they’re doing all the worrying. They take care of everything.”

Peppermint Patty smiles and says, “that’s real neat!”

But then Charlie Brown begins to get this serious look on his face and he raises his index finger and says:  “But, it doesn’t last.  It doesn’t last. Suddenly, you’re grown up and it can never be that way again.  Suddenly, it’s over and you don’t get to sleep in the back seat of the car anymore. Never!”

Peppermint Patty gets a sad and frightened look on her face and she says “Never?”

Charlie Brown nods and says, “Never!”
Then stricken with the tough realities and the difficulties of life, Peppermint Patty says: “Hold my hand, Chuck!  Hold my hand!”

My heart is heavy today for children whose lifted hand is taken by an abuser.  My head is heavy today for adults who use position and authority and promises to forever steal the innocence of childhood.  And just now (as I switched the television back on), my spirit is lifted to know even though a highly revered football coach chose not to do the right thing and resign, the board of his university chose to do the right thing and fire him. 

Jim Denison is right when he says, “Our legacy is forged by what we do in private, not just in public.”  

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Adoption–the Chance to Change the World

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The world is grieving the death of perhaps the greatest creative genius of our time, Steve Jobs, the CEO of Apple computers.  His list of accomplishments is mind-boggling:

•    He made computers accessible to non-technical people.
•    He reinvented the music industry with the iPod and iTunes.
•    He revitalized animation with Pixar.
•    He reinvented the personal communications industry with iPhone.
•    He changing the way we consume media with iPad.
•    He changed the way software and hardware is sold.
•    He forever altered the language of computer interfaces.
•    He built Apple into the second-most valuable company in the world.

What many of us do not know is his parents, Clara and Paul Jobs, adopted Steve as a baby.  Adoptee and follower of Christ, Ryan Scott Bomberger, reminds us of the powerful act of adoption:  “No matter the perceived world success of an adoptee, adoption is a loving act that transforms, not only the life of the child, but the entire family.  And sometimes the world.”

The divine parallel is inescapable … there is no Christianity without adoption!  The Apostle John knew this when talking about people receiving Christ, he says Christ “gave them the power to become children of God.”
 
Paul, too, uses the image of adoption repeatedly in his letters to the churches.  To the Ephesians he writes: “[God] chose us in Christ … He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ …” (1:4-5).  He tells the Romans that adoption leads believers to being “heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ” (Romans 8:17).

In Paul’s day, being adopted included a release for the adoptee from any obligations attached while in the birth family.  For example, any debts owed by the adoptee were canceled upon entrance into the adoptive family.  The adoptive father became, in every significant sense, the real father. 

In spiritual words, the cancellation of sin’s penalty (as the angel told Joseph, Jesus “will save his people from their sins”) and becoming a real child of God, in line to receive a full portion of the Father’s kingdom.

Fortunately, adoption into God’s family is not based on our being perfect children.  Sad to say, but most children’s services agencies have plenty of kids available, but some are older, some are nonwhite, some have special needs, and there is no competition for them.  Some of them will remain with children’s services until they are adults.  In God’s family, however, there are no un-adoptables. “To all who received him … he gave the power to become children of God.”

Loving parents adopted Steve Jobs and he became a creative genius who changed the world, as we know it.  Our heavenly Father wants to adopt us so we can become “children of God” and yes, change our world, as we know it. 

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The Treat Is to Be Free From the Trick

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My waitress makes a simple and oft-spoken comment this time of the year:  “Can you believe how much Halloween costumes cost nowadays?”  In that statement, I am reminded of the masks we wear and how much it costs us to wear them.

Most observers of Halloween see it as the Devil’s night; however, it is actually a holiday with rich religious origins.  The “Hallow” in Halloween comes from the same root as “Hallowed be Thy Name.”  Halloween is the day before the traditional Christian celebration known as All Saints’ Day.  It was intended to be a “hallow(ed) e’en.”

Our tradition of ghosts and trick‑or‑treating comes from Celtic beliefs.  The Celts believed the souls of the departed roamed the earth one night in the fall. Since it was a time of harvest, the people would huddle together in front of fires, eating, and telling stories, so Halloween evolved into a celebration of witches and ghouls and fiends far removed from All Saints’ Day.

My recent scripture reading in the Gospels has unearthed Jesus’ encounter with those experienced in costumes and masks.  We know them as the Pharisees and Jesus’ indictment was as scarey as any Halloween night monster.  In a world of “tricks and treats,” they would definitely land on the “tricks” side of life.  Jesus instructs us not to do as they do, for they do not practice what they preach.  They tie up heavy, cumbersome loads and put them on other people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them (Matthew 23:1-12).

In an interview in the magazine The Door, famed psychiatrist M. Scott Peck tells about the first time he went to hear the Swiss physician Paul Tournier, one of the most influential Christians in the world.  Following Tournier’s lecture there was a time of dialogue where a man asked, “Dr. Tournier, what do you think about all the hypocrites in the churches of America?”

Stumbling over the English words, Tournier apologized and said he did not understand the word “hypocrite.”  Several people offered definitions. “Phony, pretending to be something that they’re not, unauthentic, false.” Suddenly the doctor’s eyes lit up. “Ah, hypocrites, now I understand … C’est moi! C’est moi. I am the hypocrite.”

Ouch!  Just when I was hitting my preaching stride about the masks of the Pharisees, a famed and educated man took off his mask and invited me to do the same.  It was then that I realized “again for the first time” just how much it costs me to wear my mask.  It betrays the truth, it confuses my friends, and most of all, it disappoints God. 

To answer my waitress, “yes, I can believe how much it costs to wear a mask nowadays.”  It cost me more than I can pay and pays me nothing in return.  So, this “Hallow’s Eve,” would you join me in declaring your “treat to be free from the trick” of wearing yet another mask?

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Piling On and the Art of Discernment

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 Unless you have been out of the country or simply hate the idea of listening to sports, the story of the week is easily the trade of Carson Palmer, the quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals, to the Oakland Raiders. I am an admitted “sports nut,” but I usually keep my deep and discerning discussions of athletics to my sports buddies.  When was the last time you heard a sports story that needed discernment? 

For the uninitiated, this story has all the intrigue of a John Grisham novel.  A wealthy, unpopular owner of a pro football team who leads by virtue of being born, has yet another disastrous year.   His team loses twice as many games as they win and he rewards his reasonably priced coach with a contract extension. 

Then his “company line,” once All-Pro quarterback, the only straight man in the ongoing circus of a team filled with media darlings and lawbreakers, says in private, “trade me or I will retire.”  Translated, this means, I have given you the best 8 years of my body’s life (remember the nasty ACL and MCL tears in the 2006 playoff game and my ripped elbow in 2008) and I am now willing to walk away from $46 million dollars rather than continue working for an owner who has the dubious distinction of being the slowest owner in NFL history to 100 wins and the fastest to 200 losses. 

The owner sets his jaw and with the conviction of an Old Testament prophet says in public, “Carson signed a contract, he made a commitment.  He gave us his word and his commitment.  We expected him to perform here.  If he is going to walk away from his commitment, we aren’t going to reward him for doing it.”  He reiterated that declaration just last week and then suddenly on Tuesday, Carson is traded. 

So what happened?  I am glad you asked, because this is where the “discernment and piling on” occurs.  Immediately, sports talk radio is filled with callers who “discern” what a great deal the owner made in trading Carson and “pile on” Carson as the over-the-hill quarterback they were glad to send to the West coast.  

Discernment is the ability to detect, to recognize and to perceive what is going on around you.  It is insight beyond the obvious and outside the realm of facts.  Discerning people have more that knowledge.  They have understanding and perspective.  Discerning people move beyond their wants to their needs.  Discerning people make the right choices amid the tough circumstances.

Spiritually speaking, discernment enters into the realm of wisdom.  Solomon prayed for such wisdom:  “So give Thy servant an understanding heart to judge Thy people to discern between good and evil … (I Kings 3:9.”  Paul said, “And this I pray, that your love may abound still more and more in real knowledge and all discernment (Philippians 1:9).”

So, what can we discern from the story of the rich owner and the wayward quarterback?  Notice the quarterback spoke to his boss in private and never strayed from that mode of communication.  The owner spoke in public and belittled the quarterback’s lack of commitment to his signed contract. 

  • Discerning people understand the quarterback’s request to be traded could cost him $46 million, but the owner’s decision not to trade him could save the owner those same millions. 
  • Discerning people understand the owner could talk about the quarterback honoring his commitment, yet this same owner had cut hundreds of players before their contracts were fulfilled and gave them nothing.
  • Discerning people understand the owner in public said one thing and did another but the quarterback in private said one thing and did exactly that one thing.
  • Discerning people understand the owner told the city of Cincinnati if they would build him a new stadium, he would put a competitive team on the field, and he didn’t. 
  • Discerning people also understand this story is not simply about sports, but about life and words and actions and choices.

It is a story of how easy it is to “pile on” when someone is down.  It is a story about the power of private words spoken and lived.  It is a story about public words spoken and ignored when the price tag goes up.  Yes, it is a story about us all.

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Deep Thoughts While Multi-Basking on the Beach

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You may remember several months ago, I mentioned “needing” to respond to a book entitled Jesus Interrupted.  I was asked some questions about it and wanted to be able to respond fairly and honestly.  While this article will not be my complete response (that will be several pages long), I would like to offer you an important observation about my journey with this book as I re-read it again this week.

The author is Bart D. Ehrman, a New Testament scholar who teaches at North Carolina University.  Any discussion of Ehrman’s Jesus Interrupted, must begin with his stated purpose.  While he admits, “the Bible is the most significant book in the history of our civilization,” his goal is to “let the cat out of the bag” regarding what biblical scholars have been saying for years.  What he “unashamedly” does is rework, simplify and sensationalize scholarly conclusions that mainline theological schools have been discussing for years. 

This sounds harmless until he parallels this information with his personal faith journey from evangelical Christian to “happy agnostic.”  The book is a frightening indictment of Christianity for those not trained in the historical critical method of biblical interpretation.  For those who have only read the Bible “devotionally” and not “critically,” this sounds like a whole lot of craziness, but it is very real and he regularly spreads his conclusions about the inaccuracy of the Bible and his belief that Jesus was anything, but divine.

I will be glad to share my longer response to this book, but for now, at the core of my analysis of this book is the relieved realization that I studied the same material he studied, yet came away with my faith strengthened and solidified.  While we traveled similar pathways of evangelical fervor and the higher forms of biblical criticism, we ended in drastically different places.  Ehrman’s faith was destroyed by the contradictions and inconsistencies of the Bible and biblical history.  My faith was deepened by the mystery of the Bible’s “humanity” and strengthened by the personal experience of God at work in history.

The longer I live, the more I am convinced that people of faith who seriously study their Bible will either seek to be indoctrinated or educated and the difference looks something like this:
•    Indoctrination offers knowledge with boundaries and conclusions.  Education insists on knowledge with information and openness. 
•    The first seeks to memorize and confirm.  The second demands exposure and understanding. 
•    The first is the entrance into a room with perfectly arranged furniture.  The second is the invitation into a large house with many rooms awaiting discovery. 
•    The first is a settling into a familiar place of safety and serenity.  The second is an unsettling, but satisfying journey through mystery and hope.

So, this is what preachers do while “multi-basking” on the beach!

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Beach Time, Rats and Other Meanderings

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I am having some beach time, which always means some book time.  As you would expect, I came with a prioritized stack.  First was a book I have read on at least two other beach trips, but I have been a slow learner on this one.  It is a book entitled, The Power of Full Engagement, by Jim Loehr and Tony Schwarz.  Not only did I re-read it, I also read a follow-up work by one of the authors, The Power of Story.  Both of the books are based on the premise that managing energy, not time is the key to high performance and personal renewal.   

The “aha” moment in today’s reading came when I read “yet again” about the ineffectiveness of “multi-tasking.”  We time management types have a difficult time believing we cannot do two or three things at a time without a significant loss of effectiveness.  But the writer is clear and cutting in his analysis:

“The difference in depth between full engagement and multi-tasking is not incremental.  It’s binary.  Either you’re fully engaged or you are not.”

“Multi-tasking is the enemy of extraordinariness.”

“I believe that energy management is the answer to most individual health problems, which for most people requires a change in their story about physical energy.  With that change will come an understanding that physical energy is actually one of the four dimensions of human energy, and that if the physical dimension fails, the other three fail, too; if the physical dimension fails, the other three fail, too; if the physical dimension flourishes, so can the other three.”

If this wasn’t enough, a recent New York Times article says that technological multi-tasking hinders the learning process hard-wired into our memories.  Scientists working at the University of California, San Francisco discovered that rats whose brains were constantly stimulated did not create a persistent memory of their experiences.  Theorizing that rats and people have neurological commonalities, they suggest that the same thing happens to humans.

Even my favorite devotional writer, Jim Denison, gets in the mix when he references a University of Michigan study, which found that people learned much better after walking in nature rather than walking in a city.  It seems that you and I need downtime to let our brains solidify their experiences and turn them into permanent long-term memories.  He concludes, “reading this essay while watching the news, listening to music and climbing on a Stairmaster may seem like an escape from the rat race, but rats would apparently disagree.”

So, my wife will be delighted to know that I am making a declaration against multi-tasking, unless … it involves multi-tasking my love for her!  Can you tell I already miss her?  See you next week.

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Pavement Parties and Payment Options

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My mind is on pavement and payment.  First, let me speak to pavement.  The pavement of greater Cincinnati is being shaken, shifted, squashed and secured.  This has been the “summer of the detour.”  Roads and ramps have been rocked and widened, disrupted and reconstructed.  You get the picture because you have been a part of the slow, grueling, snarled traffic as “our world” has been paved.

While waiting “patiently” in one of the pavement parties, I realized the world is paved and according to Harvard economist, Edward Glaeser, this is a good thing.  His point is undeniable:  most of the places people prefer to live are paved. 

Today, more than half of the world’s population lives in urban areas, and there’s a steady stream of people moving from the countryside to the city. In fact, 5 million people in the developing world make the move every month. My son, Nicholas is one of those as he travels to Boston this week.
So why is this “pavement” good news? 

In his new book Triumph of the City, Glaeser calls cities “our species’ greatest invention.”  When people live near each other, they become more inventive — good thinkers inspire each other.  People tend to be more productive and specialized.  The success of large cities is the result of finding new sources of prosperity when the old ones disappear.  It is a simple, but safe bet … if a city is not flexible, it will die.

Back in the first century, the greatest paving projects in the world were performed by the engineering geniuses of the Roman Empire, and all roads led to Rome, the Big Apple of its day. So when the apostle Paul wrote his letter to the Romans, he was reaching out to Christians of a thoroughly paved metropolitan area.

Sensing that urban life could make people more inventive and productive, Paul wrote a letter of inspiring theology and ethical application. He offered guidelines that could help Romans collaborate, innovate and practice enough flexibility to make their city work.

“Owe no one anything,” Paul says in Romans 13:8.  This is where “payment” floats into my mind.  Paul knows this statement will grab the attention of the Romans, residents of a political and financial center. Money was constantly changing hands in Rome, and its people understood all about credits and debits as they collaborated with one another.

But Paul takes this collaboration in a surprising direction — he says, “Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law” (v. 8).  Paul says that just as the legal tender of money can cover “all debts, public and private” (take a look at the words on your dollar bills), the compassionate offer of love can cover “the fulfilling of the law” (v. 10).

My offer is this.  The next time you are sitting “patiently” on the pavement waiting on yet another detour, look around and smile at your collaborators in honor of how their presence in your life inspires you to flexibility and productivity.  And while you are contemplating if or when you might let the person on your left in your lane of traffic, who ignored the flashing light to “merge” 12 miles ago, remember and redeem Paul’s admonition to “owe no one anything, except to love.”  I can promise you two things:  it will not be easy, but it will ease you!

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I Wouldn’t Have It Any Other Way

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imgres   It is “school time” again and a recent conversation with my son, Nicholas, reminded me AGAIN of just how independent he has become.  Telling me about his upcoming move to Boston, I reflected on the passage of time and pulled from my writings, something I wrote 11 years ago this week when I took him to Samford University in Birmingham, Alabama.  I hope you enjoy it.

What do you say to your first-born when you realize that from this moment on he will no longer be living with you?  He will come and visit and even have extended stays, but in all reality, he will never again live with you.

While fighting back tears and hugging him with a lingering sigh at the airport, I decided I wouldn’t have it any other way.  He has not only graduated from high school, he has graduated from needing his mother and me on a day-to-day basis.  Only a sickness born of pathetic, selfish love would have it any other way.  His time had come and grieve as I will, Nicholas David, our first-born, is now a man, maturing and moving into the future without need of our daily attention and direction.

But before I left him, I did have a few of those “I need you Dad” moments.  Besides the obvious, like needing me to pay for his tuition, room and food supply for the next 4 months, I lifted and lugged his collection of college freshman paraphernalia up to the 3rd floor of Mamie Mell Smith Hall, a rather odd name for a male dormitory.  Finally delivered, we began our onslaught on the obvious.

Not unlike when he was 8 and we moved into his new room at 620 Hill Road, he took care of putting up his toys and I pushed and prodded the more practical items.  He wired his window to the world, a newly purchased Dell computer, while I made his bed.  Standing among the mostly empty boxes, I asked a question I had asked at least a million times.  I said, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”  He pointed to a tall, skinny box in the corner, yet unopened.  I must admit I had seen it but carefully ignored it.

Written on the side of the box, were the words that strike fear into every mechanically dysfunctional male since the beginning of time—“Assembly Required.”  It was a small, but ominous looking multi-purpose bookshelf.  I took a deep breath and knelt down beside it, not sure whether to pray or to pretend.  I decided to do both.  I prayed for yet another chance to be the all-knowing, all-powerful Daddy of his early years and I pretended to be the ever-confident, ever-mechanical Fix-It man of my forgotten years.

So, I began my rarely traveled journey to the land of “required assembly.”  Not having made this journey with regularity and even less success, I started with a very non-male-like thing.  I read the instructions.  What did I have to lose?  He wasn’t watching!

Looking back on this moment, I am convinced these instructions were written for every mechanically dysfunctional father trying to make one final installment on the indispensability of parents, in general, and fathers, in particular.
I needed no tools and even less coordination.  “Assembly Required” completed, I stood by the bookshelf and announced to Nicholas my accomplishment.  He smiled his approval and I swaggered with fatherly pride moving it to the corner it would occupy for the upcoming semester.  It was a glorious moment for this mechanically dysfunctional father!

Looking out the airplane window on the way home, I smiled remembering the satisfaction this father got out of being with his son while working on and satisfying a worthy goal together.  And then I felt the smile of God.  A smile born out of his desire to be with me, work with me and realize a worthy goal together.

My hope for you today is a simple one.  Do a practical thing that helps another person and then bask in the smile of God.  We really can (do a simple task that helps another person) and God really does (smile on our efforts)!  Thanks be to God.

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History Was Hollering This Week

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The hollering of history was deafening this week.  Being a child of the 60s, this week could not pass without a salute to the significance of  “Three Days of Peace and Music.”  The year was 1969; the location was a patch of farmland in White Lake, a hamlet in the upstate New York town of Bethel and 50 miles from a place called “Woodstock.”

The event started as a simple music festival to raise funds for a recording studio and rock-and-roll retreat near the town of Woodstock, New York.  Despite the relative inexperience of the promoters, they were able to sign a roster of top acts including Jefferson Airplane, the Who, the Grateful Dead, Sly and the Family Stone, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Santana, Joe Cocker, Joan Baez, Arlo Guthrie and Crosby, Stills and Nash.  No wonder history was hollering!!!

The cast of musical characters an irrational rarity, the size of the event ballooned from an expected 50,000 to 500,000.  Most remembered, however, was not the talent or the size, but the result.  The result of this under-organized, over-populated Rock and Roll extravaganza was a nonviolent, mostly free (the overwhelming crowds simply swarmed the gates), 1960s youth counterculture at its best.  With the Vietnam War simmering in the background, the Woodstock rockers simply wanted the world to “give peace a chance.”

Another “holler” came from a different part of New York when I heard “Lady Liberty” is closing.  Actually, it is only the interior of the Statue of Liberty, which will be shut down on October 29 for a year of renovations.  Contractors will spend $27.25 million to update stairwells, add new fire suppression systems and elevators, and rehabilitate restrooms.  

To reflect on her magnificence, Lady Liberty stands 305 feet, 1 inch tall.  Her skin consists of 62,000 pounds of copper, the thickness of 2 pennies.  Originally erected in Paris, she was then disassembled into 350 pieces, put in 214 crates and shipped to America where her awaiting pedestal was the world’s largest solid mass of concrete at the time.  

Broken chains at Liberty’s right foot suggest she is ready to step over them, leaving enslavement for freedom.  For soldiers sailing to war through New York Harbor, she is among their last sight upon leaving home and one of their first upon returning.  Jim Denison rightly recognizes “the interior renovation of our country’s most famous symbol of freedom is a metaphor for our times … if our interior is not strong, our exterior will soon decay and crumble.”  

The history of these two events holler with the hope for “peace.”  The first, a protest of war unearthed in a musical plea for peace, the second, a monument of freedom and democracy built on the aspirations of a country.  The first reminds us that peace is more than the absence of war.  The second reminds us that real honest-to-God, life-sustaining peace is always an “inside-out” proposition.  

They both remind me that holy history hollers with the fact that peace comes from God.  He blesses His people with it (Psalm 29:11) as we live the life He designed for us:  “If only you had paid attention to my commands, your peace would have been like a river, your righteousness like the waves of the sea.”  The best part of this peace is that nothing can remove it from us. Isaiah 54:10 states “though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed.”

I am child of the 60s and I admire Woodstock’s call to “give peace a chance.”  I am a citizen of this great nation and revel in the words written inside Lady Liberty: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”  But heaven hollers with the news that I am first and foremost a child of God, birthed in His freedom and bathed in His peace.  Now that is a holler worth hearing!

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Meditations from the Mountains

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Last week Neva and I experienced a rarity.  We went to the mountains.  It is not that I don’t like to look at the mountains.  It is not that I don’t like to drive through the mountains.  But to stay in the mountains, or better yet, stay on the side of a mountain.  Well, that is another story and that is our story last week.
   
It was a surprise I gave Neva for our anniversary.  As I have mentioned many times, my idea of “camping” is a stay at a Holiday Inn.  Neva, not so much, she would prefer a tent.  Or, at least, that is what my “Outdoor Darling” claims; however, the only tent I have seen her in is with her second graders in the back yard of our home while doing a camping unit. 

In this case, I figured a cabin would be a fair compromise.  I did my Internet search and found a cabin not far from Gatlinburg, but as I later discovered, it was 30 minutes from the exit off the expressway, most of it a vertical incline.  She was thrilled with the choice and I was “King of the mountain,” especially when I discovered the cabin was equipped with Direct TV.  With hand resting on the Bible, I can tell you I did NOT know it was equipped with that window to the world of my struggling, bumbling Cincinnati Reds.  But it was.

It was not the two losses and one win the Reds had against the Pirates I remember.  It was the trip down the mountain to the river, by foot!  We hiked to the river and we did not get lost.  We followed the map given when we checked in and began “living the life” of a hiker.  As we sat in the cool river water at the bottom of the mountain, basking in the glow of lessons learned, I began to organize my “meditations from the mountains.”

I learned you should not hold hands on a mountain trail.  The path isn’t wide enough and your arms must be free to balance your downhill, uneven steps.

I learned you lean into the mountain as you go up and only slightly back as you go down.  The hike is always about staying on your feet and keeping your head up.

I learned rocks in the river are slippery and rocks beside the river are hard.  Holding hands and making sure one of the bodies’ behind those hands is braced and steady, is an absolute necessity.

The common theme of my meditations from the mountains surrounds the need for balance.  Life is in fact a “balancing act.”   We balance our doing with our being.  We balance our work with our play.  We balance our exertion with rest.  We thrive when are in balance and we deteriorate when are not.

So, how is your balance?  Need someone to hold your hand until you get steady?  Need to go apart before you come apart?  Need to lean into the heartbeat of God before you lose yours?  To quote a famous shoe company, “Just Do It!”  Or in this case, you may need to “just undo it!”