But the Thorns!

August 28, 2017August 28, 2017 ~ Paul Phillips ~ 2 Comments

What a beautiful tree! It’s absolutely the perfect place to put a treehouse!

A few of us were spending the morning helping our friends move. It wasn’t that big a deal—loading a U-Haul truck with furniture and boxes, along with a pickup truck or three—since we were only going a mile away.

Still, we welcomed a minute to stand in the cool shade of the stately tree and savor a long drink of cold water. It had been a morning filled with laughter and joviality as we labored together, but hard work in the sunshine seems to be a recipe for sweat and thirst. We stood under the branches of the flourishing tree and were refreshed—by the water and the shade.

Looking up, I noticed the configuration of the sturdy branches where they joined the massive trunk. The branches all came out of the trunk at something close to a right angle before sweeping upward, where they spread out to the leafy extremity of the tree’s crown.

Ah! At sixty years old, I would be stretching credulity to claim the title of tree climber, but in a past life, I would have been up that tree in a minute.

Perfection! What a magnificent tree!

The children quite obviously shared my opinion; one of the taller boys was already giving the younger ones a leg up onto the lower limbs. Within moments, the branches were teeming with youngsters above our heads.

What a delight! What I wouldn’t give to have such a tree in my yard for my grandchildren to experience. Why, if it were in my yard, I might give it a shot myself—when the neighbors weren’t around to see my foolishness, of course.

And, the possibilities for a tree house! Although, it seems such dreams may actually be governed by building codes and city ordinances in this bureaucratic age in which we live.

Still. A tree house!

What a perfect tree!

The teenaged young man who had lifted up the younger kids was still standing nearby as I expressed my admiration. Even though he is just moving into the house, he had done his homework regarding the majestic tree.

Yes. This tree is a sweetgum. So are those next door.

He tossed the words out carelessly, as if they weren’t nearly the sternest denunciation he could make of the ancient giant. Perhaps—in fairness—to him they weren’t.

What a shame. How unfortunate that some uneducated homeowner had planted such an unsuitable specimen right in the middle of his front yard.

I looked around in the leafy ends of the branches. Sure enough, hanging down, I spotted them. Those spiny seed pods! Horrible things!

I wouldn’t have that tree in my front yard! Not for anything!

You’re laughing at me, aren’t you? Go ahead. Laugh all you want. I hate cleaning up those spiny things. They drop off the tree in the fall and the yard will be full of them.

Did you know, the sweetgum tree is often and vociferously named by homeowners as one of the worst trees to have in your yard? It’s all because of those spiny seed pods, gumballs, some folks call them, which might even be dangerous. They roll underneath your shoe and make you twist your ankle. They hurt your head if you happen to be under the tree when one falls. And, don’t even think about going barefoot in the yard where one of those horrible trees is growing.

You’re still laughing. You should be.

Moments before, I declared the tree perfect. That’s right. Perfect.

As in, every good gift and every perfect gift is a gift from above, coming down to us from God, the Father of Lights. (James 1:17)

And now? If it were gift-wrapped and planted in my front yard, I’d turn up my nose at the horrible thing.

Silly, isn’t it? The tree is magnificent, with spreading limbs and foliage providing wonderful shade, growing straight up to heavens, fifty or sixty feet above my head. Yet, here I stand, repenting of my admiration for it because of a little seed pod an inch and a half in diameter.

I think they call this incongruous. It certainly demonstrates a lack of perspective on my part.

It seems to be a common trait for humanity. My mind jumps to examples of our fickle approval or disapproval of other people and situations. Yours will too, given a moment or two of introspection.

Perhaps, there is even one which hits very close to home, maybe even painfully so. I know I have too many of my own.

And, even though I’m glad for the company in my foolishness, I’m disappointed in myself—and us. I’m even more than a little embarrassed.

How is it we stand face to face with amazing blessings which we recognize clearly but, having noticed the tiniest of flaws, can see nothing else?

And soon, the imperfection becomes an annoyance. As the annoyance grows, our sense of being blessed diminishes.

Before long, we have exchanged our blessings for curses, our joys for anger, our gifts for punishments.

It’s impossible to be grateful when one is critical of the gift they’ve been given.

It's impossible to be grateful when one is critical of the gift. Click To Tweet

He gives good gifts. They are gifts which bring joy. They are gifts which build character. Sometimes, both at the same time.

Our old friend, Job, understood it when He answered his wife, who wanted him to curse God for the disasters which had destroyed the life he once had known.

Does it seem right to accept good from God and not the hardships also? That’s foolishness! (Job 2:10)

I understand. A spiny seed pod on a beautiful tree is not the same as having your entire family wiped out and losing all your wealth. Still, the principle applies.

God is for us.

He intends good. For us.

He does good. For us.

If He is for us, what do the inconveniences matter?

If He is for us, we can abide the testing, the hard spots.

The apostle, for whom I am named, said he considered these passing hardships as not worth comparing to the glorious expectation of what will one day be ours. (Romans 8:18)

I’m with him. At least, I want to be.

One day—on that day—all of the things we complained and griped about here will seem as a hazy fog blown away by the morning breezes. Gone in an instant, leaving no proof that they ever existed.

He gives good gifts. Good.

And, we are forever grateful.

I’d still keep the rake handy for the spiny seed pods, though.

I beg your pardon. I never promised you a rose garden.
Along with the sunshine, there’s got to be a little rain sometime.
(from Rose Garden ~ Joe South ~ © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC ~ All rights reserved.)

But Job replied, “You talk like a foolish woman. Should we accept only good things from the hand of God and never anything bad?” So in all this, Job said nothing wrong.
(Job 2:10 ~ NLT ~ Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. All rights reserved.)

Mirror Image

July 11, 2017July 11, 2017 ~ Paul Phillips ~ 1 Comment

Some things just mess with my brain. I’m not the only one.

Selfies.

I know. It’s a foolish name, but it is what we call them. We want to see pictures, so friends snap photos of themselves, often while looking in a mirror.

One begins to wish there weren’t so many mirrors in bathrooms. I can’t help it. It’s my first reaction when I see the photographs.

The second is more enigmatic to me. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there is always something that bothers me about the selfies taken in the mirror.

Things aren’t quite as they should be. Men’s shirt pockets are on the right-hand side. Belts are threaded through the loops the wrong direction. Oh! And most folks are holding their phones in their left hand, but I know most folks are right-handed.

It’s all backward. Mirror images are oriented in a flipped position. Sure, the person still looks like him/herself, but the little niggling details irritate me.

But, truth be told, I didn’t invite you to sit down and read about my pet peeves. There are more important issues to deal with here.

But, I do want to talk about mirror images.

Certain tasks—essential ones—have to be accomplished using mirror images. I know it seems strange, but it is a fact.

Just the other day, my patient brother-in-law spent some time explaining it to me—one of those tasks. I hope he’s not disappointed by what I have to say here.

The Lovely Lady has completed the painting job she began a few weeks ago. The new ceiling in the living/dining room area has several coats of bright white paint. The walls are covered in a beautiful contrasting color. But, right up in the corner where the two come together at a ninety degree (or a close approximation of it) angle, we need to tack up a crown molding.

I say we. I mean I. I need to tack up a crown molding.

It’s very simple, Paul. You take the measurements and then cut the trim pieces. Upside down. You have to put them in the saw upside down to get the cut and the angle right.

On inside corners, the long end is the bottom, so it’s the top end when you put it in the saw. It’s really easy. You’ll have no problem. Just flip it upside down. Oh. And, don’t forget to angle your saw in the opposite direction.

I haven’t cut a single piece. I may not cut a single piece.

A couple of days ago, while I was looking for excuses not to start that particular job, I conveniently remembered a plumbing job I needed to do under the kitchen sink.

Ah. Here is something I can do. What can be hard about screwing a shut-off valve onto the end of a threaded pipe?

Remember. Righty-tighty—lefty-loosey. It’s so simple!

There would be more to it on this day.

When I worked on the plumbing originally, we had no plans for a dishwasher, so I needed two shut-offs—one hot and one cold. This job would require adding another hot water shut-off for the newly arrived dishwasher. No sweat. Add a tee and attach two shut-offs.

I had turned the water off at the meter out near the street and had reconfigured the tee and valves. Now all that was left was to check for leaks. It was a perfect job for the Lovely Lady. Our son had stopped by to check on our progress, but he wasn’t dressed for under-the-sink. His part would be to keep an open line with me on his cell phone—just in case.

Just put your head under here, Dear. Watch those two valves and the pipe near the new tee and see if they leak. If you see any drips, have him (pointing to our son) tell me immediately. Oh. Make sure you look to see where it’s leaking before I turn the water back off.

Contingency plans in place and cell phone in hand, I went out to turn on the water supply. It didn’t take long.

Dad! There’s a lot of water coming out!

I stayed calm.

Make sure she knows where it’s coming from. I have to know where it needs to be tightened.

There was no hesitation on his part.

No. It’s a lot, Dad! Really. A lot. She knows where it’s coming from!

I turned the water supply back off.

The Lovely Lady was soaked. Really wet. And, not all that happy.

I had left one of the shut-off valves completely open. Turned on all the way. In the contained space of the cabinet, the stream ricocheted off the wall it was aimed at and splattered everything under there. She was under there.

How could such a thing happen? I followed the righty-tighty, lefty-loosey rule. I did.

I had, from my place near the new tee just installed, reached along to the end of the pipe, nearly a foot on and turned the shut-off to the right to close it.

How could that not have been clos. . .Oh! I was reaching from the underside of the valve! To the right from underneath the valve would have been left if I had been in the correct position looking from the top side.

I had turned the valve open all the way myself. She was soaked and I was to blame.

Mirror image.

Later, that problem rectified, and a few other minor drips eliminated, I finished up by plumbing the drains on the new sink, too. It was time to test it all out.

I turned on the cold water tap. Voila! Water rushed out and down the drain. There was not a single drip!

But, as I reached over to turn off the tap, I realized something odd was going on. The water—the cold water—was hot. Really hot.

Backward. I had them backward.

No, not the feeds to the sink. I had actually extended the cold water line to go to the dishwasher. It only needs a hot water line. It won’t work with cold water at all.

When I had planned the day’s project, I had access to the back of the bathroom wall, so carefully I selected the line I was to extend from there. Everyone knows the hot water is on the left of the faucet. I picked the one on the left and added the tee and additional shut-off valve to that one.

Mirror image.

It wasn’t a great day. I might as well have been tacking up crown molding.

Perspective.

The apostle, my namesake, knew about mirror images. He said life now is just like trying to see with a bad mirror. Now, he says, we see dimly through the mirror, the details jumbled and sometimes confusing.

Boy, do I get that! I turn one way when I should turn another. I flip the switch on the right when I needed the one on the left.

I wonder if I’m the only one?

Oh but, the day is coming! Twenty-twenty vision! We’ll see everything exactly as it is. We’ll see our Savior and know His perfect plan.

One day.

No more will we live life through the looking glass. No more hot when we wanted cold. No more confusion, no more wondering.

On the day we get up and take that short journey around to the other side, the side on which He’s waiting for us, it will come sharply into focus.

He sees it all clearly, right now. He’ll show us the way if we’re willing to listen.

He sees it all clearly, right now. He'll show us the way. Right now. Click To Tweet

Too often, I think I know all the facts. Too often, I take situations into my own hands.

But, I’m learning the things I want aren’t always what He has planned. I’m even realizing the things I’ve come to think of as His blessings are sometimes simply chains that keep me from what He really wants for me.

I don’t do that well with mirror images.

It’s time to surrender the job to the Master Craftsman.

I’m ready. Perhaps, the Lovely Lady will appreciate the change, too. It might be drier for her on the other side.

It’s His mirror.

I want to see through His eyes.

Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.
(1 Corinthians 13:12 ~ NLT ~ Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. All rights reserved.)

I’ve looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It’s life’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know life at all.
(Both Sides Now ~ Joni Mitchell ~ Canadian singer/songwriter ~ © 1967 Gandalf Publishing Co ~ All rights reserved)

I’m Not Talking About It

August 4, 2016August 4, 2016 ~ Paul Phillips ~ Leave a comment

Personally, I would rather do almost anything than talk about it. Come to think about it, it’s clear no one actually wants to discuss it anyway.

Oh, that doesn’t mean no one has anything to say about it. Just the opposite is true. Almost everyone has an opinion. Many are ready to tell me what that opinion is.

But, if we’re going to talk about it anyway, shouldn’t that mean we could listen to each other? Just a little? A discussion involves give and take—statement and argument—with all involved parties listening and contributing.

We seem to have forgotten that.

Perhaps, as I do, you believe that everything you have always known to be true was written from the foundation of the earth. After all, it was taught you by people you love—people you trust.

We are, each of us, the product of our environment. Our life experiences to this point have shaped our thought processes. Our education plays a part; our upbringing does, as well.

Many who read my words have a worldview shaped by God’s Word and a relationship with a Savior God. Therefore, much of what we believe and teach comes directly from the pages of the Bible. The words do, anyway.

I wonder though, how often we mess up the application.

We study. We read. We buy books to explain what we’ve studied and read.

And then, we take a passage like this one and misuse it:

Stop and think! Do the innocent die?
When have the upright been destroyed?
My experience shows that those who plant trouble
and cultivate evil will harvest the same. *

I’ve seen the ideas in print and heard them voiced. Something similar has come from my lips. They weren’t direct quotes from this scripture, but the meaning was very close to it.

Do you know who actually said the words?

They came from one of Job’s accusers—a friend, if you will—as he sat and comforted Job with half-truths. The words were true from his perspective, but were not even close to the truth from Job’s.

And God’s.

It strikes me that those words could even have been spoken by someone as they watched Jesus die on the cross. There is little doubt people nearby would have nodded their heads in agreement.

If I had been alive, I might have been one of them.

No. Would have.

I would have been one of them.

The boy came in with his grandmother a couple of weeks ago, toting a wooden box with steel strings stretched across it. He had a smile pasted on his young face, as if in anticipation of the realization of a dream.

We did our best to help the dream along. The Lovely Lady aided the young man in selecting some instructional materials, while I promised to have the little melody harp in tune when next he and his grandma came to see us.

The music for this little instrument is not written in notation form. It is simply a printed diagram which lies under the strings of the harp indicating, by location and progression, the strings to be plucked. The marks are just little dots which are positioned directly underneath the string to be sounded at any given time.

I noticed something odd about the set-up as the Lovely Lady played the tune to Three Blind Mice, on the day we received the music the boy had selected.

If you are the person making the music, standing over the harp and looking down at it from the front, the diagram makes perfect sense. The notes, if they are in tune, sound clearly and accurately. Music flows from the little rudimentary instrument, with no question as to the melody.

Yet, from the top of the tiny harp, the dots line up with the strings not at all. The lines leading from one dot to the next are upside down and backwards, confusing the pattern.

There is no way the person on the other side of the harp could use the printed music to follow the tune. The result would be a halting and mistake-ridden rendition, unrecognizable as the song written by the composer.

Sometimes, we have to move to where a fellow traveler is to be able to see his or her perspective on the journey.

Neither the ministry nor the method of another pilgrim is mine to call into question, simply because my ministry and methods differ.

Perhaps, it is time for us to talk about it—whatever it is.

Perhaps, as we talk, we need to move to a different vantage point to be able to see the view our brothers and sisters see every day.

Perhaps, instead of listening to our own voices filling the air with what we think we know, we could listen to the voice of our God.

He has seen the journey from the other vantage point.

He even walked it Himself.

This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same testings we do, yet he did not sin. So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.
(Hebrews 4:15-16 ~ NLT)

“Child,” said the Lion, “I am telling you your story, not hers. No one is told any story but their own.”
(from The Horse and His Boy ~ C.S. Lewis ~ British novelist ~ 1898-1963)

*Job 4:7-8 ~ NLT

He's Taken Leave

Random wanderings with Paul Phillips

perspective

But the Thorns!

Mirror Image

I’m Not Talking About It