Posts Tagged ‘life’

Cutting Corners

Thursday, December 12th, 2013

Yesterday  I followed a distinguished looking, middle age gentleman from the parking lot of the Y into the lobby. Three feet before the sidewalk made a 90 degree turn toward the entrance, the man cut the corner by stepping through the grass and then back onto the sidewalk to continue his journey. His short cut saved him a couple of steps and contributed to a path that was already worn in the grass. Apparently having very little on my mind at the time, I wondered why he had done that. Since he was carrying a gym bag I assumed he was going to the Y to work out. Why save a few steps if he had the energy to do cardio?

Why does the rest of humanity sometimes cut corners also? You do it too don’t you? That is how paths get started and not only in the grass, but also in our lives. Thinking back on some of the corner cutting I’ve done, I can’t recall it ever resulting in anything positive. But I sure remember times that corner cutting came back to bit me in the rear end. Any way you slice it, cutting corners is nothing but slacking off. It is giving less than 100%.

“Let everyone be sure that he is doing his very best, for then he will have the personal satisfaction of work well done…” (Galatians 6:4 LB). Geepers! I just had a horrible thought! What if Jesus had been a corner cutter?


Three Fish Stories

Friday, June 7th, 2013

1…This 1,323-pound shark was caught off California’s Huntington Beach this week after a battle which took more than two-and-a-half hours.

2…Several years back my son and I, along with a friend caught a 54 pound catfish on a trotline in the Buffalo River near Hurricane Mills, Tennessee.

3…A while back a luxury sports car pulled in front of me causing me to have to swerve. Like so many of us, the guy was on a cell phone. I doubt if he ever saw me. His license plate read “Big Fish.” I had to laugh. Many of us might think that we are big fish or wish we were, but not quite narcissistic enough to put “Big Fish” on our license plate.

I expect that if we are honest, in our heart of hearts, most all of us at times have longed to be a big fish.  God instilled in humans the need for acceptance and for significance. The truth is, who really wants to be a minnow?  Yet, most of us don’t actually wear the Big Fish sign.  We are more subtle.

When I was in my twenties, single, living in Atlanta and on the hunt, I bought a cubic zirconium pinky ring. It looked great. Just like the real deal but actually it was nothing more than a Big Fish sign.  After a few days of incessantly admiring my new, sparkling pinky, it occurred to me that there was a distinct disconnect between my “diamond ring” and my lemon yellow Pinto.  I elected to take the ring back and keep the Pinto.  But I assure you that I’ve had other big fish moments since. What I have come to understand, albeit late in life, is that once I accepted myself, I no longer had a desire to wear Big Fish signs.

Something to think about

Looking Up

Thursday, May 23rd, 2013

It is 6:30 am; I’m stretched out on a park bench along the Harpeth Greenway listening to a symphony of song birds. I’m looking up at patches of deep blue sky filtering through the towering oaks. Below I can hear the sound of the river. Apparently there is nobody else around. Until this particular moment of solitude, I don’t recall previously thinking about trees as in the context of “trees for trees sake”. But as I look up through the soaring green canopy, in this moment of time, perhaps I’m seeing them for what they really are —- majestic creations of an almighty God – testaments of his power, love and provision for mankind.

Peering upward it just occurred to me that these trees will keep on reaching up to the sun despite the Moore Tornado, the IRS scandal, or what happens to me. Should I die today on the bench or live to be a hundred, those trees will continue to testify of the love of our Creator. That is a humbling thought! I’ve never exactly thought of trees in that context before. For some reason I don’t feel quiet as important as I did driving over here. I do, however, feel a bit closer to God.