Just wanted to let those of you who may be interested know that I have moved my blog devoted specifically to writing over to Blogger. I think this will make it easier for me to keep it current, and easier for any of you to view and comment in it. It is www.charityonwords.blogspot.com. Blogger doesn't have an easy way to import entries from other blogs, so I did it the old-fashioned way by cutting and pasting and manually inserting the date of original publication. Hope you all find things to appreciate about this second blog.
Also, I wanted to let you know that I have added a page to my website devoted to the Advent Season, which begins this Sunday, Dec. 3. I will be posting daily meditations, as well as links to daily Bible readings and The Book of Common Prayer. You can find this new page by clicking on the Advent link on my website at www.charitysingleton.com. I do hope you all will visit regularly -- maybe even add the page to your favorites over the holidays. Also, I'd love to hear any of your own Advent traditions. There's a link on the page to send any comments. They won't be posted, but I'd love to integrate them into the writing. As much as possible, I will actually be writing the meditations during Advent.
Thanks to everyone who is joining me for the journey.
November 30, 2006
November 29, 2006
Thankful
Today, I woke up without a headache and was grateful. The reason NOT having a headache seemed like such a gift was because yesterday I DID have a headache, almost the entire day, and I felt miserable. Later this afternoon, when I got home from work, my house was clean and cheerfully decorated with all my Christmas regalia; I felt a surge of joy as I plugged in the twinkle lights on the tree and watched it come to life. This scene was even more of a blessing to me today, because over the past few days, with a downcast spirit and the nagging headache, I lived amid an archapelago of Rubbermaid tubs, tissue paper, and fake evergreen needles, struggling to get everything hung and strung.
Having an enlarged perspective really makes a difference, helping me not take so much for granted.
But headaches and downcast spirits are not just about changing my perspective; they help change me. Every difficult day the Lord helps me endure gives me strength for the next difficult day. And as He develops me into someone who looks a little bit like Jesus, then, maybe I can actually be thankful for the headache, not just for the lack of one.
But I also am learning that being thankful for the headache doesn't mean changing how I feel about headaches. I think it means living in the moment, experiencing the frustration and discouragement of having a mortal body, and offering them to the Lord as a sacrifice. This isn't a quick fix or an easy answer; owning our pain is hard. But offering them to the Lord gives Him more space to walk with us through it.
I am thankful that yesterday is behind, and today is at hand. But both are preparing me for tomorrow.
Having an enlarged perspective really makes a difference, helping me not take so much for granted.
But headaches and downcast spirits are not just about changing my perspective; they help change me. Every difficult day the Lord helps me endure gives me strength for the next difficult day. And as He develops me into someone who looks a little bit like Jesus, then, maybe I can actually be thankful for the headache, not just for the lack of one.
But I also am learning that being thankful for the headache doesn't mean changing how I feel about headaches. I think it means living in the moment, experiencing the frustration and discouragement of having a mortal body, and offering them to the Lord as a sacrifice. This isn't a quick fix or an easy answer; owning our pain is hard. But offering them to the Lord gives Him more space to walk with us through it.
I am thankful that yesterday is behind, and today is at hand. But both are preparing me for tomorrow.
November 27, 2006
The Way of Ignorance
Since I've been blogging, it has become my habit to think about my life in terms of short essays suitable for comment. Keeping my thoughts "bloggable" has become a kind of filter through which I have inadvertently subjected my thought life. A censor, if you will. While this often does help me give shape to the randomness that is my brain, it also keeps me thinking narrowly. And when I have problems, I find myself considering only solutions that will sound good in a blog.
It's not blogging alone that has given me the illusion that I can solve every problem, climb every mountain, ford every stream, however. I've often believed that if can control my thoughts (what I know, how I know it), I can control my life.
This is why I haven't been blogging lately. The issues swirling around my life aren't ones with easy answers. And the path I seem to be taking to resolve these issues doesn't necessarily feel right. Neither does the alternative.
In the complexity, I've been giving myself some freedom to think a little more broadly, to remember the mystery and unknowableness of life, to feel the weight of my mental and creative limitations. I've also spent some time thinking beyond the "known unknowables" to the "unknown unknowables," to quote the outgoing secretary of defense. And the confusion and instability has frightened me. Thinking this way feels risky, doesn't fit neatly into a blog, and had left me feeling at times as if getting out of bed is even too hard.
But I'm starting to grow comfortable with my ignorance again, because the unknown unknowables are unknown only to those of us walking around with skin on. However off track my uncertainty takes me, it's still only my uncertainty. God is standing sure.
I believe I've found myself walking along what Wendell Berry calls the "way of ignorance." He says, "Because ignorance is thus a part of our creaturely definition, we need an appropriate way: a way of ignorance, which is the way of neighborly love, kindness, caution, care, appropriate scale, thrift, good work, right livelihood." In a word, the way of ignorance is humility.
Berry's way reminds me of the ascent to the temple which the Israelites memorialized in the Psalms of Ascent (120-134). Approaching the wild, mysterious Yahweh brought an appropriate humility to the journey. I especially love Psalm 131, which Eugene Peterson says "prunes away our unruly ambition . . . what we might call getting too big for our britches."
According to Peterson, in this Psalm, David is saying, "I will not try to run my own life or the lives of others, that is God's business; I will not pretend to invent the meaning of the universe; I will accept what God has shown its meaning to be; I will not strut about demanding that I be treated as the center of my family or my neighborhood or my work, but seek to discover where I fit and do what I am good at. The soul, clamoring for attention and arrogantly parading its importance, is calmed and quieted so that it can be itself, truly."
When I define myself this way (by all I don't know in comparison to all God does know) I am knocked back down sufficiently to know that the "way of ignorance" that Berry describes -- neighborly love, kindness, caution, care, appropriate scale, thrift, good work, right livelihood -- are the best things I can do with my life. And that my foiled plans and feeble ideas were never going to work anyway.
A Long Obedience in the Same Direction by Eugene Peterson (chapter 13)
The Way of Ignorance and Other Essays by Wendell Berry
It's not blogging alone that has given me the illusion that I can solve every problem, climb every mountain, ford every stream, however. I've often believed that if can control my thoughts (what I know, how I know it), I can control my life.
This is why I haven't been blogging lately. The issues swirling around my life aren't ones with easy answers. And the path I seem to be taking to resolve these issues doesn't necessarily feel right. Neither does the alternative.
In the complexity, I've been giving myself some freedom to think a little more broadly, to remember the mystery and unknowableness of life, to feel the weight of my mental and creative limitations. I've also spent some time thinking beyond the "known unknowables" to the "unknown unknowables," to quote the outgoing secretary of defense. And the confusion and instability has frightened me. Thinking this way feels risky, doesn't fit neatly into a blog, and had left me feeling at times as if getting out of bed is even too hard.
But I'm starting to grow comfortable with my ignorance again, because the unknown unknowables are unknown only to those of us walking around with skin on. However off track my uncertainty takes me, it's still only my uncertainty. God is standing sure.
I believe I've found myself walking along what Wendell Berry calls the "way of ignorance." He says, "Because ignorance is thus a part of our creaturely definition, we need an appropriate way: a way of ignorance, which is the way of neighborly love, kindness, caution, care, appropriate scale, thrift, good work, right livelihood." In a word, the way of ignorance is humility.
Berry's way reminds me of the ascent to the temple which the Israelites memorialized in the Psalms of Ascent (120-134). Approaching the wild, mysterious Yahweh brought an appropriate humility to the journey. I especially love Psalm 131, which Eugene Peterson says "prunes away our unruly ambition . . . what we might call getting too big for our britches."
According to Peterson, in this Psalm, David is saying, "I will not try to run my own life or the lives of others, that is God's business; I will not pretend to invent the meaning of the universe; I will accept what God has shown its meaning to be; I will not strut about demanding that I be treated as the center of my family or my neighborhood or my work, but seek to discover where I fit and do what I am good at. The soul, clamoring for attention and arrogantly parading its importance, is calmed and quieted so that it can be itself, truly."
When I define myself this way (by all I don't know in comparison to all God does know) I am knocked back down sufficiently to know that the "way of ignorance" that Berry describes -- neighborly love, kindness, caution, care, appropriate scale, thrift, good work, right livelihood -- are the best things I can do with my life. And that my foiled plans and feeble ideas were never going to work anyway.
A Long Obedience in the Same Direction by Eugene Peterson (chapter 13)
The Way of Ignorance and Other Essays by Wendell Berry
November 17, 2006
A New Friend
For the past few years, I have been hearing more and more about a Kentucky farmer named Wendell Berry. He is as much a writer as he is a farmer, but if you ask me, more than anything he is a prophet.
Wendell has written a lot of fiction and all kinds of essays and poetry. But over the past couple of years, whenever I would try to starting reading his stuff, I never knew where to start. That's always a problem for me when I stumble onto new writers.
At last I found my entre. The Way of Ignorance and Other Essays is teaching me a lot about this gentle man who speaks boldly for the earth, its inhabitants, and its creator. For all the times I've wondered how to combine my rural upbringing, my concern for the environment, and my interest in world events all within the context of my Christian faith, I've found it in Wendell.
Here's a couple of samples: "If we believe, as so many of us profess to do, that the Earth is God's property and is full of His glory, how can we do harm to any part of it?" AND "'Every man for himself' is a doctrine for a feeding frenzy or for a panic in a burning nightclub, appropriate for sharks or hogs or perhaps a cascade of lemmings. A society wishing to endure must speak the language of care-taking, faith-keeping, kindness, neighborliness, and peace. That language is another precious resource that cannot be 'privatized.'" AND FINALLY, "The way of ignorance, therefore, is to be careful, to know the limits and the efficacy of our knowledge. It is to be humble and to work on an appropriate scale."
I think my new friend Wendell has a lot to say to me through his writings and his life. I hope some of you might join me in hearing them.
The Way of Ignorance and Other Essays, by Wendell Berry. Published in 2005 by Shoemaker & Hoard.
Wendell has written a lot of fiction and all kinds of essays and poetry. But over the past couple of years, whenever I would try to starting reading his stuff, I never knew where to start. That's always a problem for me when I stumble onto new writers.
At last I found my entre. The Way of Ignorance and Other Essays is teaching me a lot about this gentle man who speaks boldly for the earth, its inhabitants, and its creator. For all the times I've wondered how to combine my rural upbringing, my concern for the environment, and my interest in world events all within the context of my Christian faith, I've found it in Wendell.
Here's a couple of samples: "If we believe, as so many of us profess to do, that the Earth is God's property and is full of His glory, how can we do harm to any part of it?" AND "'Every man for himself' is a doctrine for a feeding frenzy or for a panic in a burning nightclub, appropriate for sharks or hogs or perhaps a cascade of lemmings. A society wishing to endure must speak the language of care-taking, faith-keeping, kindness, neighborliness, and peace. That language is another precious resource that cannot be 'privatized.'" AND FINALLY, "The way of ignorance, therefore, is to be careful, to know the limits and the efficacy of our knowledge. It is to be humble and to work on an appropriate scale."
I think my new friend Wendell has a lot to say to me through his writings and his life. I hope some of you might join me in hearing them.
The Way of Ignorance and Other Essays, by Wendell Berry. Published in 2005 by Shoemaker & Hoard.
November 16, 2006
Give and Take
Tuesday evening I had the privilege of hearing a talk by Anne Lamott as part of the Indianapolis Spirit and Place Festival.
As a big fan of Anne's for years, I have to admit that I went to the lecture with a bit of trepidation. I have a bad habit of idolizing authors so much based on their very polished and edited written work, that when I finally hear them speak more informally or actually meet them I am vastly disappointed. Regretfully, this happened to me last Spring at a conference I attended where a favorite author of mine gave a VERY bad answer during the Q&A session. I'm still recovering from that one.
Thankfully, this was not the case Tuesday. To my great joy, Anne Lamott was as funny and exceptional in person as on paper. She tried really hard to hold her tongue about politics (although she "slipped up" a bit during the Q&A section by mentioning Dick Cheney disdainfully a couple of times and shouting "we won!" when someone asked about last week's election); she talked about drug addicts as someone might nostagically discuss her high school classmates; and she wove the evening together brilliantly, telling us "everything she knows about everything" in 45 minutes.
She said things like "Rest and laughter are the most spiritually subversive acts we can engage in," which I heartily agreed with. She read a portion of a commencement speech she had given, which ended along the lines of "And don't wear pants that have an opinion about how much you've eaten," which made me laugh out loud (the laughs kind of burst out of me, in fact). And she closed her prepared talk with thoughts on failure: "Everything I know that turned out worth sharing has sprung from failure, mistakes, and false starts."
At the end of the evening, some friends and I were discussing what it means to be really honest and authentic, two words a lot of people use to describe Anne. One friend said she doesn't hear people talk like that very often. Even though I understood what she meant, I countered with, "Most people don't have the opportunity."
I guess what I meant is that the kind of raw, gut level honesty that Anne shares in her books and lectures doesn't feel very sustainable on a day to day basis when there is laundry to do, errands to run, jobs to show up for, house repairs to coordinate, etc. I always wonder if people like Anne, who seem to be so real and authentic, always saying exactly what's on their minds, really feel the freedom to share this way when they are with their friends or at home with their family and not directly addressing an audience?
Also, I think a lot of people are being authentic and telling the truth. They just don't happen to agree with me, or express my version of the truth. This is actually the case with Anne. While I heard more than one person Tuesday night say when they read Anne Lamott they feel like they are not alone, when I read her work, I often am amazed that people actually think this way. And my little ideas about what it means to be a Christian get blown out of the water because here's someone with whom I seemingly have no common ground who also follows Jesus.
Finally, baring my soul is not always what other people need, or what I need, for that matter. Too many times I have been so eager to share my opinion or to be brutally honest about a situation only to have proceeded too roughly. Maybe what others need from me more than anything is to listen to what's on their heart. If I only speak and don't listen, what I have learned? What have we accomplished?
In fact, if there was one moment in the evening when Anne nearly slipped off the pedestal it was related to this very thing. She said she never has a conversation about abortion, stem-cell research, gay marriage, etc. with someone who disagrees with her. "I just don't want to hear it," she said.
I am certainly not slighting Anne Lamott for her bold expressions. In fact, I am happy to have her voice as part of the larger conversation of what it means to be a person of faith. Even when I don't agree with her, I learn a lot. I guess this is the point: when we tell it like it is but refuse to hear the other side, rather than speaking the truth, we actually become less authentic, a charicature of our own ideas.
I have a lot to learn when it comes to be straightforward with others about my weaknesses and opinions. Anne Lamott has taught me a lot in this area. But I have even more to learn about about listening to others, especially those with whom I disagree. And Anne has taught me a lot in this area as well.
As a big fan of Anne's for years, I have to admit that I went to the lecture with a bit of trepidation. I have a bad habit of idolizing authors so much based on their very polished and edited written work, that when I finally hear them speak more informally or actually meet them I am vastly disappointed. Regretfully, this happened to me last Spring at a conference I attended where a favorite author of mine gave a VERY bad answer during the Q&A session. I'm still recovering from that one.
Thankfully, this was not the case Tuesday. To my great joy, Anne Lamott was as funny and exceptional in person as on paper. She tried really hard to hold her tongue about politics (although she "slipped up" a bit during the Q&A section by mentioning Dick Cheney disdainfully a couple of times and shouting "we won!" when someone asked about last week's election); she talked about drug addicts as someone might nostagically discuss her high school classmates; and she wove the evening together brilliantly, telling us "everything she knows about everything" in 45 minutes.
She said things like "Rest and laughter are the most spiritually subversive acts we can engage in," which I heartily agreed with. She read a portion of a commencement speech she had given, which ended along the lines of "And don't wear pants that have an opinion about how much you've eaten," which made me laugh out loud (the laughs kind of burst out of me, in fact). And she closed her prepared talk with thoughts on failure: "Everything I know that turned out worth sharing has sprung from failure, mistakes, and false starts."
At the end of the evening, some friends and I were discussing what it means to be really honest and authentic, two words a lot of people use to describe Anne. One friend said she doesn't hear people talk like that very often. Even though I understood what she meant, I countered with, "Most people don't have the opportunity."
I guess what I meant is that the kind of raw, gut level honesty that Anne shares in her books and lectures doesn't feel very sustainable on a day to day basis when there is laundry to do, errands to run, jobs to show up for, house repairs to coordinate, etc. I always wonder if people like Anne, who seem to be so real and authentic, always saying exactly what's on their minds, really feel the freedom to share this way when they are with their friends or at home with their family and not directly addressing an audience?
Also, I think a lot of people are being authentic and telling the truth. They just don't happen to agree with me, or express my version of the truth. This is actually the case with Anne. While I heard more than one person Tuesday night say when they read Anne Lamott they feel like they are not alone, when I read her work, I often am amazed that people actually think this way. And my little ideas about what it means to be a Christian get blown out of the water because here's someone with whom I seemingly have no common ground who also follows Jesus.
Finally, baring my soul is not always what other people need, or what I need, for that matter. Too many times I have been so eager to share my opinion or to be brutally honest about a situation only to have proceeded too roughly. Maybe what others need from me more than anything is to listen to what's on their heart. If I only speak and don't listen, what I have learned? What have we accomplished?
In fact, if there was one moment in the evening when Anne nearly slipped off the pedestal it was related to this very thing. She said she never has a conversation about abortion, stem-cell research, gay marriage, etc. with someone who disagrees with her. "I just don't want to hear it," she said.
I am certainly not slighting Anne Lamott for her bold expressions. In fact, I am happy to have her voice as part of the larger conversation of what it means to be a person of faith. Even when I don't agree with her, I learn a lot. I guess this is the point: when we tell it like it is but refuse to hear the other side, rather than speaking the truth, we actually become less authentic, a charicature of our own ideas.
I have a lot to learn when it comes to be straightforward with others about my weaknesses and opinions. Anne Lamott has taught me a lot in this area. But I have even more to learn about about listening to others, especially those with whom I disagree. And Anne has taught me a lot in this area as well.
November 13, 2006
Starting to Conserve
Over the past several months, I have been prompted to think more about conservation, stewardship, reusing, recyclying, saving, etc., and I have to admit, I feel a bit overwhelmed. There are so many statistics from so many sources. And the problem can just seem absolutely overwhelmng.
As I run these ideas through the grid of my Christian faith, however, it seems that even if the Greenhouse Effect is all a hoax, and even if fossil fuels aren't creating political chaos, there is something very important about taking care of what I have, not being wasteful, and protecting things that are natural and beautiful since God created them that way.
While I continue to process through all this means, reading books and blogs, talking to friends, making small lifestyle changes, and talking with the Lord about his pleasure in all of this, here's where I am so far:
1.) I am making a very conscientious effort to recycle as much as possible. Even though I'm not a big trash producer anyway, it's amazing how many things I have been putting into a landfill that can actually be recycled. So, I try to think about what goes in the garbage. In my city, curbside pickup is not only NOT required, you have to pay extra to have it picked up, so I am taking my own to the recycling dumpster (which also is near a friend's home so I'm not making extra trips).
2.) I volunteered to organize recycling at work. They are buying the receptacle for the breakroom, and I've offered to be in charge of taking it to the same recycling dumpster as I take my own. My employer seemed very interested in my offer, which made me more motivated.
3.) I am turning off my computer every day rather than leaving the monitor and modem on and the computer on standby. I also have been unplugging my cell phone charger when it's not actually charging. I've read that these two acts alone would save a lot of energy usage in the world if EVERYONE did them. (I probably won't notice a difference on my own electric bill, but I do believe it's saving a little energy).
4.) The thermostat stays between 58 and 60 (after I added insulation to the attic, I bump it up to 60 occasionally). And I keep the lights off except when I actually need them.
5.) I've been washing all my clothes in cold or warm sometimes. And I'm planning to get a drying rack. I'll probably still use the dryer some to fluff the clothes, but they can certainly air dry most of the way. Plus, the moisture will make the air more comfortable in the house.
6.) I have been taking a cloth bag to the farmer's market and grocery store, instead of accumulating more paper or plastic ones. And today, I was rewarded with a nickel credit to my grocery bill at Wild Oats.
7.) I am making a concerted effort to buy local as much as possible -- not because I am against giving a hand up to the whole world, but because the energy use of transporting our goods is excessive and potentially damaging to us all. Doing this in the winter will be more difficult, but I've found a wonderful winter farmers' market at a nearby creamery that runs all winter. So far, buying local means food. Anyone know any good sources of information on where to buy other products locally?
8.) I am seriously considering what it would mean for me to ride a bicycle more for work and errands. Because my city is not very bicycle friendly, the dangaer factor may outweigh the benefits. But I am trying to figure out routes for work and other common errands. Any body else ride a bicycle a lot in a non-cycling city?
I realize that most of these gestures will not even make a dent in the global environment. But that's not the only point. And if I can kill two birds with one stone, all the better.
I'd love to hear ideas from others who are concerned about living wastefully . . .
As I run these ideas through the grid of my Christian faith, however, it seems that even if the Greenhouse Effect is all a hoax, and even if fossil fuels aren't creating political chaos, there is something very important about taking care of what I have, not being wasteful, and protecting things that are natural and beautiful since God created them that way.
While I continue to process through all this means, reading books and blogs, talking to friends, making small lifestyle changes, and talking with the Lord about his pleasure in all of this, here's where I am so far:
1.) I am making a very conscientious effort to recycle as much as possible. Even though I'm not a big trash producer anyway, it's amazing how many things I have been putting into a landfill that can actually be recycled. So, I try to think about what goes in the garbage. In my city, curbside pickup is not only NOT required, you have to pay extra to have it picked up, so I am taking my own to the recycling dumpster (which also is near a friend's home so I'm not making extra trips).
2.) I volunteered to organize recycling at work. They are buying the receptacle for the breakroom, and I've offered to be in charge of taking it to the same recycling dumpster as I take my own. My employer seemed very interested in my offer, which made me more motivated.
3.) I am turning off my computer every day rather than leaving the monitor and modem on and the computer on standby. I also have been unplugging my cell phone charger when it's not actually charging. I've read that these two acts alone would save a lot of energy usage in the world if EVERYONE did them. (I probably won't notice a difference on my own electric bill, but I do believe it's saving a little energy).
4.) The thermostat stays between 58 and 60 (after I added insulation to the attic, I bump it up to 60 occasionally). And I keep the lights off except when I actually need them.
5.) I've been washing all my clothes in cold or warm sometimes. And I'm planning to get a drying rack. I'll probably still use the dryer some to fluff the clothes, but they can certainly air dry most of the way. Plus, the moisture will make the air more comfortable in the house.
6.) I have been taking a cloth bag to the farmer's market and grocery store, instead of accumulating more paper or plastic ones. And today, I was rewarded with a nickel credit to my grocery bill at Wild Oats.
7.) I am making a concerted effort to buy local as much as possible -- not because I am against giving a hand up to the whole world, but because the energy use of transporting our goods is excessive and potentially damaging to us all. Doing this in the winter will be more difficult, but I've found a wonderful winter farmers' market at a nearby creamery that runs all winter. So far, buying local means food. Anyone know any good sources of information on where to buy other products locally?
8.) I am seriously considering what it would mean for me to ride a bicycle more for work and errands. Because my city is not very bicycle friendly, the dangaer factor may outweigh the benefits. But I am trying to figure out routes for work and other common errands. Any body else ride a bicycle a lot in a non-cycling city?
I realize that most of these gestures will not even make a dent in the global environment. But that's not the only point. And if I can kill two birds with one stone, all the better.
I'd love to hear ideas from others who are concerned about living wastefully . . .
November 10, 2006
Feeling Grumbly
Today has been one of those days they write children's books about.
I woke up feeling kind of grumbly, and no matter what I do, I can't get the mood to turn around. And though there have been some minor irritations, mostly everything is fine. I'm just feeling grumbly.
Now I have a choice . . . do I punish others for my grumbles, grouching replies to every question, refusing to hold open doors or say thank you in the check out line? Do I refuse the invitation from some friends to watch a movie this evening, and yell at my dog when she eats grass?
Or do I talk about the grumbles with someone I love, work hard to remain at least neutral in my relationships (loving feels too hard right now), and ask the Lord to redeem the day with his love and kindness?
The choice seems obvious, but when I'm feeling grumbly, even obvious choices can get me down.
I woke up feeling kind of grumbly, and no matter what I do, I can't get the mood to turn around. And though there have been some minor irritations, mostly everything is fine. I'm just feeling grumbly.
Now I have a choice . . . do I punish others for my grumbles, grouching replies to every question, refusing to hold open doors or say thank you in the check out line? Do I refuse the invitation from some friends to watch a movie this evening, and yell at my dog when she eats grass?
Or do I talk about the grumbles with someone I love, work hard to remain at least neutral in my relationships (loving feels too hard right now), and ask the Lord to redeem the day with his love and kindness?
The choice seems obvious, but when I'm feeling grumbly, even obvious choices can get me down.
November 1, 2006
Getting What We Want
Last night as I was helping a friend get her children ready for trick-or-treating, her 3-year-old son burst out, "Trick or treat, smell my feet . . ." and couldn't remember the ending. So I added, "Give me something good to eat." He laughed, and now that I had prompted him, said the whole thing again, kind of like a rehearsal. "Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat."
I realized that this might be in poor taste if I had taught a three-year old to use this phrase while trick-or-treating (though I was actually just reminding him of what he already seemed to know!), so I said, "No, you should just say, 'Trick or treat' so they'll give you some candy."
So my three-year-old buddy said, "Trick or treat, give me some candy." I sighed.
"No, what I meant was that you should just say "Trick or Treat" real nicely, and then, the people at the houses will want to give you candy. Don't actually ask them for it."
He looked at me kind of confused, and said, "Oh."
I didn't really think much more about the exchange until today, when I thought about what I was really teaching this little guy with the pliable mind. I wasn't telling him to act kindly to the people he would meet because kindness is a fruit of the spirit, or because gentle answers turn away wrath. Instead, I taught him that being nice will help him get what he wants.
I doubt I've ruined him for life, or anything. I'll have plenty more opportunities to do that. But our little talk has caused me to question my own motives. How much of my behavior is spirit-led and motivated by a love for Jesus? And how much of it is just a way to get what I want?
Perhaps the best way to tell is to see how I act toward my enemies and those who have nothing to offer me.
I realized that this might be in poor taste if I had taught a three-year old to use this phrase while trick-or-treating (though I was actually just reminding him of what he already seemed to know!), so I said, "No, you should just say, 'Trick or treat' so they'll give you some candy."
So my three-year-old buddy said, "Trick or treat, give me some candy." I sighed.
"No, what I meant was that you should just say "Trick or Treat" real nicely, and then, the people at the houses will want to give you candy. Don't actually ask them for it."
He looked at me kind of confused, and said, "Oh."
I didn't really think much more about the exchange until today, when I thought about what I was really teaching this little guy with the pliable mind. I wasn't telling him to act kindly to the people he would meet because kindness is a fruit of the spirit, or because gentle answers turn away wrath. Instead, I taught him that being nice will help him get what he wants.
I doubt I've ruined him for life, or anything. I'll have plenty more opportunities to do that. But our little talk has caused me to question my own motives. How much of my behavior is spirit-led and motivated by a love for Jesus? And how much of it is just a way to get what I want?
Perhaps the best way to tell is to see how I act toward my enemies and those who have nothing to offer me.
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