Wednesday, April 29, 2009

The Tempering of a Man

During Deer season, the woods are a magical place for a ten year old. The quiet, peaceful world under the canopy of sleeping trees explodes with sensory input during the hunt. The untrained pedestrian misses so much as, they hurry through, thinking only of the destination. There are so many different sounds to sort. The rain gently pattering upon the dried brown leaves that refuse to depart the safety of the trees they have grown to become a part of, sets the foundation for the symphony of natural music that is the woods in the autumn. The sounds of leaves as the wind rips them from their tenacious grip make it difficult to distinguish between the soft footfall of our intended prey, and the leaves own soggy landing on the wooded floor.

More intoxicating than the sounds though are the smells. The sweet aroma of decaying flora mixing with the biting slightly acrid smell of the cold, create within me a repository of memories to be drawn upon for years to come. I believe the smell that affected me the most that morning was the smell of a distant fire burning in a fireplace. The aroma of the hardwood smoke as it wafted through the labyrinth of branches and twigs, telling to the trees the fate it’s cousin had come to. This smell brings to mind memories of the warmth that fireplace provided when we returned, empty-handed to the cottage like country store to renew our strength and resolve for the afternoon.

Jackson’s store holds many memories and lessons for me, though I was there only twice. The bustle of the women folk as the men came in cold and wet from our quest to provide fresh meat for the table, illustrated an age-old axiom of co-operation. The hunt was not just for sport to these people of the Ozark hills. The hunt put needed food in the freezer they would draw from for months to come. This was not just a man’s recreation, but also a family activity in which each party played a part. To some extent, my father and I were interlopers in this world, though we were welcomed as if we were family. We certainly could use the meat, and as dad, and his dad before him had been taught, we would not kill anything we did not intend to eat. Sustenance however, was not the primary goal for this pair of city dudes who depended upon the local Safeway and Kroger store for our food. Instead, dad and I were reliving the heritage passed down through many generations of Burnette men; through hardship, we were to provide.

I spend much time thinking of the things that made me the man I am today. Much of that time is spent on the strength gained from activities like hunting, and sports and the life lessons gained from them. They are an important part of making a man who he is. However, a far more important ingredient is necessary. Strength alone creates a brute. Strength mixed with great fear creates a tyrant. Strength without the tender influence of love is empty and without purpose. Strength tempered by love, optimism, and sensitivity produces a man.

My mother holds the key to who I am today. It was her love for us that caused her to look beyond her own hardships and see the adventure in all that we went though. Mom never dwelled on our failures and shortcomings, but instead extolled any piece of success. She has the innate ability to weave into the fabric of any failure the cloth of hope and success.

Some might look at the childhood we had and gasp at the hardships we faced. There was never much money around; many do not put a monetary value on what a pastor provides. We did without many of the luxuries other families had. Mom refused to let us dwell on that. In fact, I did not realize how poor we were until I was much older, and by then it did not seem that important. Mom more than made up for any temporal riches we did not posses. She could turn a breakfast picnic in the park into something far greater than a trip to Disneyland. Mom never sees the content of the glass, only the potential volume it will hold and then she pours herself into it until our lives would, and to this day still overflows.

The rites of passage were an important part of my childhood. They taught me how to become a man. I am forever grateful to dad for taking the time to build that strength in me. It is to my mom however that I owe the greatest debt of gratitude. She has tempered my strength with tenderness and optimism even during times when she herself had little to be optimistic about. I hope everyone has someone like my mom in their life, and like her is what I strive to be.

This is for you momma,

Enjoy your java

Jimmy

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Rites of Passage

It was a wet, cold late autumn day in the mountains of North central Arkansas. I anxiously watched out the car window as my father and I traveled from the confines of the city into the unusual back hills life of the mountains. My imagination began to weave scenes of what the day would be like; the great adventure that lay ahead.

I had hardly slept the night before. As I lay in bed, the mind of this ten year old was filled with excitement. This was to be the first of my ‘rites of passage’, my first deer hunt. Today I would take my first step toward manhood and I worried how I would respond. There were the usual scare tactics used that seem to be uniquely male. Dad and the older boys talking about ‘blooding’, or the tradition of drinking a cup of the warm blood from your first deer, the tales from my grandfather of how the Indians always ate the heart of their prey in honor of its life. I was frightened that I would get sick when we cleaned the deer and embarrass my father and myself. The fear of becoming a man combined with the anticipation of the same is a difficult thing to handle.

The tales of blooding were of course not true, but used as something a young man must learn to overcome, the fear of what might be.

Fear is debilitating. Fear binds us and causes us to avoid difficult situations and decisions. Fear retards our social and emotional growth, and makes deep relationship impossible. The fear of not being good enough or not achieving stature in the eyes of the older men in our lives can destroy a developing male ego. Because of this fear, so many men in our society become adolescent adults. We need a Dad, or Granddad or other male figure that we respect to tell us we have what it takes to join the club, and become a man of strength and honor.

Strength and honor are the two most important things in a man’s life. These components are required to become a good husband and a good father. This is what makes a man, a man. To have the respect of a good woman is far more important to a real man than all the gold, or all the sensory pleasure he might garner. The respect of his children comes in a very close second, for there is no greater joy than to hear the words from one’s son, ‘I want to be just like you when I grow up daddy’, or to hear his daughter say, ‘I hope my husband will be like you’. A man who cannot establish these levels of honor and respect can never truly feel like a man.

By the way, we never even saw a deer that day…such is life.

Enjoy the Java

Jim

Friday, April 24, 2009

Season of Change

Ah, spring has arrived in the Midwest. The strangle hold winter has had has finally been weakened and we can now expect to experience beautiful warm days from now until next autumn. I certainly hope this to be true; however, I have lived here long enough to realize that the end of April is still a tad early to make this declaration. We might still have those unexpected cold blustery days rise once again and remind us of the salient fact that we cannot control nature. However, those days are rare, and perhaps they will not come at all. I can say with no fear of being proved wrong, there will be far more nice days than those that are not. I also am confident that the bone chilling, arctic blasts of January have retreated and the summer season I love so well has begun to establish a foothold.

I am amazed at how easily one can draw comparisons between the seasons of nature and life. Those experiences of life that thrust us into times of grief and agony; the winters of our existence, seem so intense that they chill our spirit to its very core. The times we spend traversing our lifeway through the drifts of grief are arduous journeys that drain away our energy and leave in its place the emptiness of exhaustion. So many times we feel, just as I do in mid February, ‘this winter will never end’. Nevertheless, end, it does.

Grief, like winter has fuzzy borders. The line that divides these times in our lives is blurred and the times of respite from our sorrow are at first like those ‘January thaw’ days of winter. They seem to tease us with the remembrance of how it was, those days of warmth, the good days, only to be replaced by the days, which once again thrust us back into the realization that this season has not ended. However, as time progresses, the ‘sunny’ days come more frequently and combine into weeks of ‘good’ days. Soon those weeks become a season, and eventually the grief and pain are but an unpleasant memory tucked away in the fabric of our memory. The memory of winter is always a part of us, but the biting cold that once drove us to shelter no longer has a hold on us and we remember it in an atmosphere of warmth and safety.

Today, as you read this, you may be in the throes of a winter season. If so have hope, spring is coming. Look for those that God has placed on your lifeway to help warm you and provide companionship along the way. Perhaps it is spring in your world, the cruel north winds no longer blow, but the inconvenient times of grief still remind you of its presence. Take heart, the good days are outnumbering the bad, and soon you will bask in the glory of the Son, which has always been there tempering the cold.

If you are enjoying summer, remember those who are not. Allow yourself to be used to help them once again feel the warmth.

Be observant of those on your lifeway and reach out, and do not forget; the seasons change.

Enjoy the Java

Jim

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Transformations Along the Lifeway

I am a summer kind of guy. I love the heat of the sun, the length of the days and the sounds, sights and smells that make summer what it is. Conversely, I am not overly enthusiastic about winter. If we could do three seasons instead of four, I would be a very happy man.

Watching the Midwestern landscape transform from shades of brown to the colors of spring, remind me of a song from the ‘70’s; ‘Kodachrome They give us those nice bright colors They give us the greens of summers Makes you think all the world's a sunny day, Oh yeah’

I love to watch as the dullness of winter yields to the new life of spring; as the hay fields, which seem to transform overnight into the rich green of newfound vitality, interrupt the fields of light brown corn stubble. A spirit of hope arises within me as I see the trees adorn themselves with the tender buds that will soon burst forth into full foliage.

I enjoy autumn also. Being partial to impressionist art, I love the manner in which God expresses His creativity in the multitude of colors autumn brings. However, give me a summer day where I can feel the heat of the sun on my face, hear the song of the cicada in my ears, and the freedom from the confining walls of the house, and I am happy.

There are many parallels to life here. We experience these seasons of life many time from birth to death. There are those times of great joy and pleasure, and there are times of great sorrow and at times despair. Our lives are composed of many cycles which are generally dictated by circumstances, circumstances that can begin either the transformation from a time of joy to a time of sorrow, or a time of pain and despair into the promise of hope; Transformation.

The transformative times in our lives can cause much confusion. On one hand, there is great adventure in seeing things change without knowing what they will become, and on the other, there is the impatience with the dead cold winter and the longing for anything that frees us from its grip. Some hopes and dreams seem unattainable, permanently out of our reach, and we therefore grasp for the closest facsimile of that dream in hopes that it will suffice. All too often, this leads to yet another time of winter. The desire to see change many times overrides the natural order of seasonal movement. We need to hold fast to the dreams and promises God has given, and allow Him to bring transformation in His time.

At other times, we become so mired in the snowdrifts of life, that as these drifts melt we become entrapped in the mud that is left behind. We must extricate ourselves from this grip and once again continue the journey.

There are three keys to a joyful journey on our lifeway. First, we must have a relationship with the one who loves us beyond measure, Jesus Christ. Second, we must move forward and look to the next horizon. Third, we must choose well the memories and events of the past we allow to color our attitude toward the journey.

The underlying joy we have as believers should allow us to weather the storms, and return us once again to a place of happiness and fulfillment. Joy is the foundation of enduring happiness, and the joy of serving a loving heavenly Father is the only true joy in life. It becomes the motivation needed for the journey.

Today, as you look out the window and see the transformation of nature take place; remember the transformative times of your life. Do not allow the sepia tone landscape of winter to detour your journey of joy, but instead look to the lush vibrant colors of summer to re focus your point of view and move you forward on your lifeway.

Enjoy the Java

Jim

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Diamonds in the Dust

“I am not what I was…but I am what I have become.” This phrase came into the scrambled jumble of synapses I call a brain yesterday morning. I had read earlier in the morning a post by a friend of mine concerning a Bible study where the discussion topic was ‘Diamonds in the Dust’.

I realize that my mind works a bit differently than most. I tend to approach things from the side, thus giving me a rather unusual and at times incomprehensible view of things. As I read the words of the post, I immediately thought of a school field trip I took in the 5th grade to the only working diamond mine in the United States. This mine is located close to Murfreesboro Arkansas. Here the public can come and sort through the dust, rocks, and dirt to hunt for diamonds and you get to keep anything you find! Obviously all I found was an opportunity to get out of the classroom.

I have long heard the phrase, ‘diamond in the rough’ used, but never ‘diamond in the dust’. I wonder at that. Before the former can be transformed from its natural state, to the lustrous beauty of fine jewelry, it must be rescued from the dust.

This is an interesting concept. It is also very applicable to our lives. It is from the dust of despair that God rescues us. We are covered in the dirt of our bad choices, and the bad choices of others. The potential for beauty and value lies within each of us, but is unrealized as long as our domicile is the dusty refuse of a cataclysmic event. You see, it is the eruption of a volcano that brings the diamond to the surface. However, surfacing is only the beginning. The diamond must be found.

Even after one finds a diamond, its beauty and value is not realized until the stone has been carefully cut and polished by a skilled artisan who does not concern themselves with its current state of existence, but what the diamond can become. They are able to see the potential that lies under the dusty coating.

We are all found in the dust; brought there by the heat and pressure of a sinful world. We many times surface to the attention of others only through the violent explosions of life. It is sad, that many times it requires such a destructive act for us to be noticed. I, as everyone else, stand guilty of this negligence; the failure to dig deep into life and find these treasures before they must be expelled from their resting places in such a manner.

However, I am thankful for the artisans who recognized the chunk of stone in the dust, and helped shape and form my life into what I have become. I am certainly not perfect, but I am happy with who I am. I also realize that many people had a part in making that happen. Their time and talent have transformed me from a useless chunk of dirty crystal, into something of albeit questionable beauty, but hopefully useful utility. I am certain this process is not finished.
It is my prayer to become an artisan. One who can see the chunks of crystal and identify the purpose that my Lord has for them. I pray that I might be able to skillfully help them realize the true nature within themselves that make them the wondrous creation God intended.

“God help me see in others what you have created them to be, and thank you for transforming me from what I was into what I have become.”
Enjoy The Java

Jim

Baseball and Friendship

The quiet of early morning gently envelopes me like the shell of a chrysalis protecting me while I prepare to emerge for another day. Enshrouded in blankets, warm and comfortable, my mind begins to drift again to the happenings of yesterday and the plans of today; another day on my lifeway.

I detest the cold; especially the damp cold of a Midwestern springtime. It is a cold that seems to delve to the core of my being, chilling until I can think of nothing but getting warm. My body and soul aches for the warmth of the Dixie springtime’s of my youth.

Ah, the memories of boyhood in the south… the sound of baseballs being hit and the slap of the glove as they were caught; the smell, and the feel of a well-worn mitt. My mind wanders; I can almost taste the dusty grit as the wind blows across the infield and I long to once again hear those words that would transform my world from one of studies and the tedious boredom of school, into one of challenge and dreams…’PLAY BALL!!’

Baseball was my escape from the harsh realities of city life. The wailing of sirens and sounds of the traffic were replaced by the sights, sounds and excitement of a game I learned to love as a child. On the field, I could be transformed into my favorite players, taking on the glory of their success while forgetting the menial cares of my young life. Baseball was, and is today, a means of escape for me. It consumes my consciousness as each play unfolds and I consider each option and analyze the strategy and tactics being employed. Yes, above all games, I love the game of baseball.

The alarm clock is beginning to sound, just as the recess bell would ring years ago. The sound calls me back from my temporary respite from reality. It is time to once again deal with the reality of life. It is time to forge ahead on the lifeway and find new challenges to overcome, new opportunities to explore and new relationships to establish as I nourish those I already have. These are what make the journey worthwhile, relationships. A relationship with a loving God and the relationships that He allows me to develop with others on this great journey of life. These things make the hard times bearable, and add pleasure to the times of joy.

Relationship requires investment, although not in the sense of investing for return. Love is the currency of relational investment. This currency should be invested with no expectation of return, for love that is given under the condition of an expected profit is not love at all, only selfishness. This is a hard concept for our society to grasp.

In order to do this one must always be evaluating one’s motives. Why would someone invest into another’s life and expect nothing in return? While I cannot answer for others, I can answer for myself.

In the course of my life, I have encountered those who approached relationship in this manner. They invested deeply into my life, and asked nothing in return. I, as many would be, was at first, suspicious of them. The question would burn within me, ‘What is their ulterior motive? When will the bill come due?’ There was none, and it never did. They invested because they cared. Some call it sacrifice, others duty, I call it love. When love, or agape, becomes one’s lifestyle, this behavior becomes the natural outflow.

I deeply cherish the relationships in my life. Each is as its own treasure. The Bible tells us to love God with everything within in us, and that loving our neighbor in the same way is just as important.

We need to discard the selfish, self-serving attitudes of our egocentric society and truly love those whose lifeways we share. We also need to cherish the love we receive; life is so much fuller and richer because of the love of good friends.

Enjoy the Java
Jim

Monday, April 20, 2009

Lifeway Obstacles

The day is warm. The birds are singing their songs in the trees as the wind gently rustles the leaves. I feel a comfortable kinship with the forest. The sweet smell of fallen leaves, and the occasional brush of a spider web against my face. These sensations transport me to a place of refuge and joy. It is here that I can be alone with myself and alone with God.

I have traversed many a forest pathway in my life. When the stress of everyday living reaches a critical point, I have always resorted to this refuge, no matter where I have lived. Much have I learned from the forest. There is a life lesson in every stroll across the forest floor.

At times during these journeys, I have come to places where a tree has fallen across the pathway. Most of the time, these fallen trees are small and easily navigated around. There have been times however, that the obstacle was large and difficult to overcome. I could see the pathway continue its meandering course beyond the fallen barricade, but getting to it was a problem. It is here that one must decide if continuing the journey upon the path that one is on is worthy of the effort to overcome the obstacle.

The same principle holds true in our journey along our lifeways. Many obstacles will block our path. Many times situations dictate that we must make a decision; whether to overcome the obstacle and continue along our chosen route, or to change the course and blaze a new trail.

Choices; it is the choices we are obliged to make throughout life that order the direction of our lives. While the list of options is seldom a difficult thing to develop, deciding upon the best is always an exercise in presumption. Not having the ability to know what the future holds, we must weigh the known quantities and choose the best course. The best course is seldom the easy course, making the decision even more difficult. Choose we must though, for not choosing is surrender, and surrender should not be an option. To sit at the base of the obstacle, fretting over the fact that it is there, delays our progress on our lifeway. To delay or cancel our journey is unthinkable, for no matter the size of the obstacle, the energy expended to overcome is small price to pay for the joy that always lies ahead.

One must begin to look at the possibilities presented by each obstacle. Possibilities for personal growth, the satisfaction of overcoming adversity, and the character that is built with every victory. These are but some of the possibilities, but the greatest possibilities include the people that God puts at our side to help remove the obstacle and allow us continue our journey. His faithfulness is the sunshine that warms our life and lights our path when faced with the biggest opportunities for success.

Every obstacle we face presents an opportunity for success or defeat. The defeat comes only as a result of our surrender. The choice is ours, surrender and miss the joy God has in store for us, or fight until the victory is won. What will you choose?

Today, choose well.
Enjoy the Java
Jim

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

The Course of the Pathway

Pathways are roads that provide an easy and directed route from one place to another. I have traveled many pathways in my life. Some were trails blazed through unpopulated mountainsides leading to a particularly good trout stream or hunting spot, others were the streets of the many different towns and cities I have lived in. Of the two, I prefer the first.

I find the concept of the ‘pathways of our lives’, to be most fascinating. I refer to these as our ‘lifeways’, as they are the trails that are blazed into our history, telling the story of where we have been physically, spiritually and socially. I also know that in my own life I have many times thought I had my future lifeway planned in the same manner I would plan a vacation trip.

There are many congruencies between pathways and lifeways. Both have a start and a finish, both must circumvent immovable objects to achieve their intended goal, and both are dynamic, or can change. It is the dynamic nature of a path that makes it either frightening, or a source of adventure, depending upon one’s outlook on life. How we travel the path, not the path itself proves the mettle of our character. It is upon these lifeways that the future history is written, for others and us.

There are many sources for the altering of a path. Nature sometimes does this violently, as the floodwaters or quaking earth changes the terrain. Other times the gentle but persistent wind transforms it. The resulting detour can sometimes be unnerving for the traveler when first they navigate it. New sights, and landmarks, which are not recognized, can cause stress and confusion, resulting in an unplanned change in direction.

Such is true with lifeways. Lifeways change not by nature, but by choices. At times, we make these choices. At other times, it will be the choices of others that alter our course. Sometimes the change is miniscule, sometimes massive. Sometimes the change is thrust upon us violently and against our will, and sometimes it takes place over an extended period, gently moving us. Either way, any deviation will affect our lives forever.

I believe it to be the course changes that bring us the greatest things in life, the greatest joy, and at times the greatest pain. My choices have skewed my course just enough to cause it to intersect with the lifeway of others. Sometimes at such a narrow angle as to cause us to travel a united pathway for great distances, others have merged for a lifetime, and yet others are more of an intersection, a short traversing of like paths that quickly diverge into different directions. No matter the duration, the impact upon our lives can be tremendous.

It is of great importance to remember our choices not only alter our lifeway, but the lifeway of every other person who shares in relationship with us. There are no ‘little’ choices in life. Some choices will alter lifeways for generations to come. We must remember to choose well. There are no ‘do-overs’ in life. We deal with what we get and what we get is not by chance. I rest in the knowledge that no matter what deviation of lifeway I face, no matter the opportunity or the pain, there is one who watches our lifeways and directs the degree of deviation to work things for our good, if we will let Him.

Enjoy the Java

Jim

Pathways

How sweet are the memories of childhood. As children, growing up in North Little Rock, my sister and I spent countless hours playing at Burns park. Burns park is a huge city park nestled between the plush rolling foothills of the Ouachita mountains, the noisey busy streets of the city and the Arkansas River. It is known for it's many nature trails which are cut into the dense pine and oak forest. It was a great respite from the streets of the city.

We would play for hours on end in one particular section of the park. This was a section that had a mixture of very old, very tall pine trees, and some stands that had recently been planted. The trails in this pine forest were padded with pine needles that had fallen from their hosts, making them particularly quiet to walk on. This made the games of hide and seek, cowboys and Indians, and whatever else our fertile imaginations could conger, even more enjoyable. Many of these pathways would cross themselves, always lending an element of surprise to our games.

Pathways are important if one wishes to traverse the forest. They allow us to avoid the underbrush, and provide a more direct route than could be achieved by walking around the trees. Yes, pathways are important, not only through the forest, but in life.

The pathways of our life are very interesting. They are like the paths we followed as children. I always found the most pleasure in walking a pathway for the first time. It was the adventure of not knowing what might lay around the next curve, or where the path would eventually end up that made it so much fun. Forty years later, as an adult, I find the same childlike sense of adventure when I explore a new trail. I find this to be true in life also. Each day the path we travel is new, uncharted territory. Along it's way we find many new and exciting things, we meet new people and develop new relationships. At times the path becomes difficult or our progress is impeded by obstacles, but it is the adventure of the journey that makes life worth living. Knowing that the eventual end of this pathway is a home which is greater than we can imagine, adds to the anticipation of each days journey.

I will be blogging about pathways for the next several blogs, and the different aspects of the 'pathway' concept in our lives. I hope you find this a pleasant journey.

Enjoy the java
Jim