Piper and Warren on Doctrine

I found this quite fascinating. I always understood these two giants of the faith to be much further apart doctrinally than they actually are. I was amazed at their similarity. And I was amazed at their mutual humility as men of God who are looked upon by so many as sources of vision, leadership and wisdom. It's a long interview but I just popped in the headphones and listened while I hammered out some administrative stuff at work. You can find this video, as originally posted, on desiringgod.org.

Dear Friday

 Dear Friday

Friday, Friday, what it is about you? 

What is it that makes you such a better day

 Than all those other bitter days?

Especially Monday

That decrepit thieving day   

There’s something enchanting about your dastardly week-ending ways

You bring one chapter of my life to an end

And breathe new life into the next

Dear Friday

What is it about your endearing knack for hiding from me

For longer than any other day of the week? 

They all fly by except you, dear Friday

They all have a faster approach than you, dear Friday

4, 11, 18, 25

They're too far apart on my schedule

What is it about your column on my calendar that always awakens a count-down within me?

I await you’re arrival

You come

Then you go

But today you’re here, Dear Friday

Finally

And still it’s only the AM part of you

The cruelest part of you

Because your leisure time treasure trove that I plunder each week

Is yet out of reach for me

But oh, the PM part of you!

The part that exacts your ruthless wrath on my alarm clock while I snore with glee!

The part that gives entry to your kindhearted cohort

Saturday and his friend Sunday

Without you, there’d be no them

That wonderful weekend tandem

Dear Friday

So, I’ll try to enjoy you while you’re here

‘Cause those other days

The weaker week days

They creep up on me

Pushing you aside so carelessly

But they’re just jealous

Because they know that when I’m with them

I’m thinking of you

And counting the days until you’ll be back

Same time next week

Dear Friday

Early Signs of Greatness

My brother sent me an email yesterday. He found two poems I wrote way back when I was 16 or 17 years old. To be a fair judge of my early poetic endeavors, you need to know that these were not written as serious poems. We were trying to be funny. Trying.

You’ll soon see that I use the term “poems” very loosely. These are poems in the same way that a Ford is a “car”. They’re on the low end of the range. But I digress. Here they are for your reading enjoyment:

Pubescent Poem #1

I stand
In the shadow of the apology
For promises
Broken by the time that never passed
Tick Tock
Goes the Thought
Of my time has come
I guess the answer lies within
Within
Within
Within the moon beam
Cast by the sun
I'm hot
I need a drink
I thirst for the past
And hunger for the future
But I have no past
Is there a future?
Or is it just a great chasm
Cast into the stream
Of unconscious blunder
As we pillage the
Time given to no one
I ponder
I rest
Revived I stand
For I must fall
And fall I will
When the rain comes like a plane
With no pilot
Crashing, burning
In a fiery mass of flaming flesh
I hear the screams of the silent breath
Gone
Gone
Only to return
When life
Removes its veil


Pubescent Poem #2

I walk out the window
The wind smiles at me
I feel tired
I must be free
Free from this bond
This bond of hands
At the gates of the world
I glance back
What have I become?
Where must I go?
I sleep
Deeper
Deeper
Deeper
I dream of the
Smiling wind formentioned
Suddenly, I wake
In the haze of
My missing humanity
How small have I become?
I ponder the birth
Of the thoughts
I have heard of
The new day brings
Memories of those to come
Worry free I follow
The path of life
In a constant struggle
To master
The task
Of living the life set before me
The future time on my watch
Has passed

What are you thankful for?

In approximately 54 hours I'll be sitting down with kith and kin to eat way more than I should in a gluttonous celebration of our nation's heritage. This will be my 33^rd Thanksgiving and I have to admit that I rarely stop and think about what this holiday really means. I am too easily distracted by the sound of the Dallas Cowboys losing on TV and the captivating smell of a cooking turkey and a bowl of warm gravy. So this year, I want to reflect on the true idea for the Thanksgiving holiday, as originally intended by our forefathers. I want to stop, reflect and declare my gratitude for the many blessings I have, most of which I simply don't deserve.

I'm thankful for the right to live, work and worship freely, without the threat of harm to me or my family. And, I'm thankful for the generations of Americans who have sacrificed their lives to protect those freedoms. I'm thankful for the daily touch of God in my life and His endless love for me. I'm thankful for the beautiful bride of my youth who stubbornly yet gracefully stays by my side, in spite of me. I'm thankful for the five healthy children we've created together and the household in which we're raising them. I'm thankful for the roof over our head, the food on our table and the clothes on our back. Finally, I'm thankful for the chance to bore you with my ideological ramblings!!

Lastly, to combat what our culture has callously reduced to "Turkey Day", I've pasted a few germane quotes below. These are from various, credible sources and they draw attention to the original intended purpose of Thanksgiving.

"We fearing the Lord should take notice under so many intimations of his returning mercy, we should be found an Insensible people, as not standing before Him with Thanksgiving… " --Thanksgiving Day Proclamation by William Bradford, governor of Plymouth County, June 1676

"Now therefore I do recommend and assign Thursday the 26^th day of November next to be devoted by the People of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being, who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be. That we may then all unite in rendering unto him our sincere and humble thanks, for his kind care and protection of the People of this country…." --Proclamation of Thanksgiving Day, President George Washington, October 3, 1789

"No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and voice by the whole American People." --Proclamation of Thanksgiving Day, President Abraham Lincoln, 1863

"For food that stays our hunger, For rest that brings us ease, For homes where memories linger, We give our thanks for these." --Traditional English Prayer

"Enter His gates with thanksgiving, and His courts with praise! Give thanks to Him; bless his name! For the Lord is good; His steadfast love endures forever, and His faithfulness to all generations." --Psalm 100:4-5

I'm a model

Never to be what I tell you to be
You will become what I am
My own two shoes are too big to fill
Because you will
Drive like I drive, Talk like I talk
Watch what I watch, Give like I give
Never to be what I tell you to be
You will become what I am
The next generation of me
My offspring audience
The listeners, The learners
My children and their children
Chidingly reminding me
The good, The bad
The loathsome, The glad

What’s shaping you is bigger than me
Never to be what I tell you to be
You will become what I am
You will
Win like I win, Lose like I lose
Love, Obey and Pray like I do
Whether I do or don’t do
What I say you should do
You will become what I am
When you marry the one of your youth
And I show up in your mirror
I hope you’ll recall that
I’ve not tried to hide
The fact that I’ve failed
I’ve lost, and I’ve lied
Pieces of me have died
But I am trying with all my heart
To honor and prepare the you who will
One day become what I am

Purple: It's the new Red!

Public Schools. Unbelievable! A member of my family is doing her student teaching in one of the local public school districts. Last night, she told my wife about some of the daunting disparities she’s noticed between the schools she grew up in and the school district where she currently works. Did anyone else know that teachers cannot use red ink when correcting student’s coursework? Apparently, red ink is too damaging to the emotional well-being of the students. Teachers are now instructed to make all corrections in purple ink. Purple is not as mean-spirited as red.

Pardon me, but as I recall, the only red ink on my homework was on the items I completed incorrectly. If students are upset by the sight of red ink on their assignments, they don’t lack self esteem. They lack self control. They don’t need a different color to identify their errors. They need to put down the XBox controller and put their brain to work. For me, an abundance of red ink provided motivation to push myself to do a better job on my homework; to try harder next time. It helped me learn to be self-disciplined. I learned to say no to what I wanted to do, and yes to what I should do. “Going the basketball game with my friends sounds like fun but I need to stay home and study for the exam I have tomorrow.” Thank God nobody thought I was too fragile to face the real (red) consequences of my own behavior.

Why are we protecting our children from the feelings associated with mistakes and failure? Isn’t this part of life in the real world? Aren’t we robbing them of the invaluable learning opportunities inherent in these kinds of challenging circumstances? Who among us can’t point to specific moments in which our character was wrought in the midst of our own knuckle-headed handiwork? What is it about the words “you are wrong” that are so injurious to a child’s psyche? What happens when a generation of sissies who’ve been cotton-gloved through their formative years, is confronted with a world that is unyielding, unforgiving and immovable? Life is governed by principles that are true, regardless of whether or not we acknowledge them as such. When a generation of self-entitled, emotionally crippled people engage with those principles, we will witness – on a much grander scale – the very results these nonsensical rules have been designed to prevent.

Riding Away

Time is a callous thing, little one
Only moments ago you were new
Radiant
Wrapped in fresh soft safety
Today, I see that same baby girl
A bigger baby girl
Riding her pink two-wheeled delight in front of my house
So sure of yourself
Just like the other kids, now
The older kids
Pride on your face and wind in your hair
Tears in my eyes
I’m teaching you to steer, pedal
And stop
But I’m learning from you too
Unbeknownst to you
You’re teaching me how to let go of you
Time is a callous thing, little one
“Daddy Watch!” you sing with joy
“Not too fast, baby” I reply
But I’m not talking about the bike
Or your little legs as they propel you up the hill
Away from me
I’m talking about the lesson you’re teaching
The letting go of you
You see, at once I see you now
I see you back then
And I see the day when you’ll ride away for the last time
Time is a callous thing, little one
“Daddy Watch!”
I’ll be watching
I’ll be ready to help up you if you fall down
I’ll be clapping and cheering as you go
Pride on my face and tears in my eyes
Not too fast, baby
‘Cause nobody catches a daddy when his girl rides away
Time is a callous thing, little one