A quick survey of my book shelves at home reveals a troubling finding - I have Adult ADD. Now, for clarity purposes, I will state that I am not a doctor and have never played one on TV, but I am pretty sure my diagnosis of ADD vs. ADHD is pretty accurate. Attention Deficit Disorder fits me well. Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity Disorder is not even an option. Why you ask? Because I am far too overweight to be hyperactive. Yep, self deprecating humor has always been a forte of mine.
In all seriousness, I do believe that a prescription of Adderall or Concerta would help me attain the focus I need to complete a book that I begin to read...or for that matter, the book I have been writing for over a year! By my count, I presently have book marks in the beginning chapters of TWELVE books. TWELVE! A dozen books huddled together on a shelve wondering which one will be picked up next to have his pages dusted off. I bet they have a running bet to see who'll be finished first. By the way, the over/under on having all twelve read is six years.
So, you may be asking what does 'Adderall for Jesus' have to do with my inability to finish a book? Simple - Focus is the reason I fail so often as a Christian. There it is, in black and white. I fail every single day as a Christian due to my glaring personality flaw - my lack of focus.
Think about it, as believers we all know what when Christ sent His 'helper' to assist His followers, that it was none other than the Holy Spirit of He who is I Am. As believers, we also acknowledge that the Holy Spirit lives within us all. If that is the case, shouldn't it be easy for Christians to live a relatively sin free life? One might think so, but it ain't that easy sonny.
How often have you closed your eyes during prayer and felt your mind wandering off to work, or that load of clothes you forgot to fold, or your dinner plans? How about that erotic scene from the movie the night before, or maybe what the lady three rows up had the audacity to wear to church?! I know for me personally, I often have to force myself to try to envision Christ carrying His cross to the crucifiction to prevent my mind from wandering.
And when my actions are contrary to the teachings of Christ, like when I profanely give my golf ball a piece of my mind, or when I show my impatience with the 132 year old driver in front of me; I know that my sins are due to my lack of focus on the Holy Spirit who lives within me.
Oh how life would be so much simpler if every time we overruled the Holy Spirit within us, we got an electric shock - like a taser for three seconds. That would be quite a sight - watching us all twitch thru life like a bunch of robots with electrical shorts. Every time a guy glances at the cute waitress' tight jeans as she walked away from his table ...BZZZZZ!!! Dang it, I spilled my water on me again. You'd hear a lot of folks shouting that famous quote from a couple years back – ‘Don’t tase me bro!”
You see, we are of this world. We are flesh and flesh is weak. The Holy Spirit is not of this world and it is flawless. So why do we continue to try to put the Holy Spirit in the child safety seat in the back of the SUV instead of letting Him drive? Because we have the focus of a.....OH LOOK!! A squirrel!! Sorry, I was going to say, we have the focus of an infant at Chuck E. Cheese's. Every bell, whistle and flashing light has the ability to turn our attention away from Christ faster than Pavlov’s dog. We have the focus of 'infant Christians.'
It's my understanding that Adderall produces an incredible ability to focus in those who take it. People are able to study longer without having their minds drift off to unrelated material. I guess it makes sense, I mean it is pretty much a legal version of Meth! Maybe Merck or Pfizer will come up with a pill called 'Emmanueldall.' Just a pill a day to keep your focus on Jesus Christ. It would be a great invention, and I think you'd see a more attentive congregation each Sunday, especially in the back where everyone tries to hide/blend in - and occasionally check the Blackberry for work e-mails!
Listen, acknowledgement is the first step to recovery. Acknowledging that I lack spiritual focus doesn't make me a 'fake' Christian. In fact, I would argue just the opposite. Because admitting I have a problem is the only way I will be able to try to solve it. Those reading this thinking "I don't let my eyes wander...I focus during prayer...and I've never used profanity" are the ones who may not get the point of this post. Laser like FOCUS on the Lord is the only way we can seek to be more like Jesus. Anything less is out of focus anticipation – waiting for "Emmanueldall."
Twelve books on my shelf are begging me to pick them up and finish reading them. One of them is actually approved by the FDA to be marketed as "Emmanueldall" - The Holy Bible. Guess I better stop typing and get back to reading. But remember; move the Holy Spirit from the child seat to the driver’s seat and YOU become the Co-Pilot. And be sure to wear your seatbelt. I hear Jesus has lead in his foot! ;)
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Forty years.
Forty years. That's how long I have been consuming air on this rock called Earth. Forty years.
For many of those forty years, I lived in a world that revolved around - me. Heck, the first thirty of those years, I had noone that depended on me for survival. Sure I was married once before, and my ex-wife and I depended on each other, but there were no mouths to feed other than our own.
In February of 2004 all of that changed. My beautiful bride gave birth to our son and three years later, our daughter joined us. So now I have three people depending on me daily. Don't they know that I was the class clown growing up and that I can not be depended on??
Ten years. That is how long I have been a Christian. Sure I was baptised as a young lad and attended church in my youth. But really believing in a Lord and Savior? Ten years.
In those ten years, many remarkable events have taken place. A couple of layoffs. Divorce. Health scares. Marriage. Child births. Moves. Open heart surgery on Reagan. Family feuds. You name it and it most likely happened in that ten year time frame. But you know what else happened in those ten years?
Grace. Forgiveness. Love. Healing. Praying. Rejoicing. Growing. Growing - that is an interesting one for the Simpson family. As the kids grow up, the daddy grows out! *smiles* But the growth I am talking about more than anything is spiritual.
In my mid 20's, I was living with my ex-wife in a small mill house on the east side of Rock Hill. We lived hard and fast. Lots of partying, drinking and general recklessness. If you combined the 'spirituality' of us both, you'd have enough to fill a toothpaste cap. And one particular Sunday morning, God tried infuse some spirituality into us, only to be turned away.
Sitting on the couch in the den of our little 700 square foot mill house, the ex flipped through the channels looking for something to entertain us while we tended to our hangovers. It was early spring, so we had the front door open and the glass of the screen door raised to let some fresh air into our dank house (and lives.)
As she rapidly scrolled through the channels, she came upon a televangelist named Robert Tilton and she paused briefly, then kept surfing. I quickly asked her to turn it back to the preacher. I wasn't interested in listening to his message. No, I was more interested in poking fun at this fraud who spoke in tongues and sent prayer cloths to those who were stupid enough to send him money. I made some sarcastic comment and the ex replied that I should be careful not to mock a man of God. Her sarcasm flowed thicker than mine.
I laughed and stated, and I quote - "If there really is a God, he'll show me a sign right now." You know the old saying 'be careful what you wish for?' Well, at that precise second, I noticed through my screen door a car had turned onto our road and was making it’s way South at a very slow speed. From my seat, I had a view of the road all the way down to the stop sign, about an eighth of a mile away. That isn’t a very long distance, but within that eighth of a mile, there are probably a dozen or more houses.
I watched the old car creep down the street. And to my surprise, it eventually pulled up directly in front of my house and stopped. The ex and I made eye contact as if to say “no freaking way this is happening!” Sure enough, the doors of the car swung open and three very conservatively dressed women exited.
As they approached our front steps, my mind was racing a zillion miles per hour! What am I going to say to these ladies if they were in fact representatives of God? Just then, as the first lady stepped onto our small porch and rang the doorbell, our ferocious dog, a Shih Tzu we’d named “Wingo,” began to bark and jump at the ladies through the screen door. “Let me at them dad! I nibble their ankles off.” Not only was that dog cool, but he could also talk!
I pushed Wingo away from the door and greeted them. “Good morning” I said in a not so eager to see them tone. “Good morning to you sir, we are Jehovah’s Witnesses and we’d like to give you this free Bible.”
My heart skipped a beat. A huge lump formed in my throat as I stood there in disbelief. It would have been easier to force a basketball into a garden hose that to swallow at that moment. I know the pause before I spoke was probably only a matter of seconds, but it felt like hours as I tried to think of the words to say. But even though my head (and heart) was cloudy, searching frantically for the right way to respond, my big mouth was quick on the trigger.
Before I could clearly process my thoughts I blurted out, “I’m sorry ladies, but we don’t believe in God,” and I closed the door on them.
They stood there a few seconds before they realized I wasn’t joking with them. Then dejected, they turned and walked slowly back to their car. They got in and appeared to pause for a moment of prayer. Then the driver turned the key to the ignition and after several attempts, got the engine to crank and they drove away, passing all of the other houses within my view.
The ex and I laughed it off as just a coincidence. There’s no way God would send Jehovah’s Witnesses to our house as His sign! That’s ridiculous.
But deep down inside, I knew that He had in fact shown Himself to me and I had denied Him, just like Peter did before Christ was crucified. For the better part of a decade, that morning’s events had haunted me. That is until I became a Christian. I know now that I will never again deny my Savior for He has led me through the darkness and into the light.
Forty years. That is the minimum amount of time I hope I have left on this rock. Forty years to raise two beautiful children. Forty years to love the best friend I have ever known, outside of Christ Jesus. Forty years to profess my faith to those who were in my situation a mere decade ago.
Tomorrow morning, I will be sitting behind a drum set on stage in front of hundreds of fellow believers - playing music that honors and praises our Lord. Ten years ago, I was playing drums also. But instead of having a group prayer before a set, I was cleaning a mirror with a rolled up dollar bill. It isn't something I am proud of, but I think it illustrates what God can do when you open your heart and mind to the Word.
Forty years. That's the amount of time I have been protected by my God, even when He knew my heart.
Grace. Forgiveness. Rejoicing.
For many of those forty years, I lived in a world that revolved around - me. Heck, the first thirty of those years, I had noone that depended on me for survival. Sure I was married once before, and my ex-wife and I depended on each other, but there were no mouths to feed other than our own.
In February of 2004 all of that changed. My beautiful bride gave birth to our son and three years later, our daughter joined us. So now I have three people depending on me daily. Don't they know that I was the class clown growing up and that I can not be depended on??
Ten years. That is how long I have been a Christian. Sure I was baptised as a young lad and attended church in my youth. But really believing in a Lord and Savior? Ten years.
In those ten years, many remarkable events have taken place. A couple of layoffs. Divorce. Health scares. Marriage. Child births. Moves. Open heart surgery on Reagan. Family feuds. You name it and it most likely happened in that ten year time frame. But you know what else happened in those ten years?
Grace. Forgiveness. Love. Healing. Praying. Rejoicing. Growing. Growing - that is an interesting one for the Simpson family. As the kids grow up, the daddy grows out! *smiles* But the growth I am talking about more than anything is spiritual.
In my mid 20's, I was living with my ex-wife in a small mill house on the east side of Rock Hill. We lived hard and fast. Lots of partying, drinking and general recklessness. If you combined the 'spirituality' of us both, you'd have enough to fill a toothpaste cap. And one particular Sunday morning, God tried infuse some spirituality into us, only to be turned away.
Sitting on the couch in the den of our little 700 square foot mill house, the ex flipped through the channels looking for something to entertain us while we tended to our hangovers. It was early spring, so we had the front door open and the glass of the screen door raised to let some fresh air into our dank house (and lives.)
As she rapidly scrolled through the channels, she came upon a televangelist named Robert Tilton and she paused briefly, then kept surfing. I quickly asked her to turn it back to the preacher. I wasn't interested in listening to his message. No, I was more interested in poking fun at this fraud who spoke in tongues and sent prayer cloths to those who were stupid enough to send him money. I made some sarcastic comment and the ex replied that I should be careful not to mock a man of God. Her sarcasm flowed thicker than mine.
I laughed and stated, and I quote - "If there really is a God, he'll show me a sign right now." You know the old saying 'be careful what you wish for?' Well, at that precise second, I noticed through my screen door a car had turned onto our road and was making it’s way South at a very slow speed. From my seat, I had a view of the road all the way down to the stop sign, about an eighth of a mile away. That isn’t a very long distance, but within that eighth of a mile, there are probably a dozen or more houses.
I watched the old car creep down the street. And to my surprise, it eventually pulled up directly in front of my house and stopped. The ex and I made eye contact as if to say “no freaking way this is happening!” Sure enough, the doors of the car swung open and three very conservatively dressed women exited.
As they approached our front steps, my mind was racing a zillion miles per hour! What am I going to say to these ladies if they were in fact representatives of God? Just then, as the first lady stepped onto our small porch and rang the doorbell, our ferocious dog, a Shih Tzu we’d named “Wingo,” began to bark and jump at the ladies through the screen door. “Let me at them dad! I nibble their ankles off.” Not only was that dog cool, but he could also talk!
I pushed Wingo away from the door and greeted them. “Good morning” I said in a not so eager to see them tone. “Good morning to you sir, we are Jehovah’s Witnesses and we’d like to give you this free Bible.”
My heart skipped a beat. A huge lump formed in my throat as I stood there in disbelief. It would have been easier to force a basketball into a garden hose that to swallow at that moment. I know the pause before I spoke was probably only a matter of seconds, but it felt like hours as I tried to think of the words to say. But even though my head (and heart) was cloudy, searching frantically for the right way to respond, my big mouth was quick on the trigger.
Before I could clearly process my thoughts I blurted out, “I’m sorry ladies, but we don’t believe in God,” and I closed the door on them.
They stood there a few seconds before they realized I wasn’t joking with them. Then dejected, they turned and walked slowly back to their car. They got in and appeared to pause for a moment of prayer. Then the driver turned the key to the ignition and after several attempts, got the engine to crank and they drove away, passing all of the other houses within my view.
The ex and I laughed it off as just a coincidence. There’s no way God would send Jehovah’s Witnesses to our house as His sign! That’s ridiculous.
But deep down inside, I knew that He had in fact shown Himself to me and I had denied Him, just like Peter did before Christ was crucified. For the better part of a decade, that morning’s events had haunted me. That is until I became a Christian. I know now that I will never again deny my Savior for He has led me through the darkness and into the light.
Forty years. That is the minimum amount of time I hope I have left on this rock. Forty years to raise two beautiful children. Forty years to love the best friend I have ever known, outside of Christ Jesus. Forty years to profess my faith to those who were in my situation a mere decade ago.
Tomorrow morning, I will be sitting behind a drum set on stage in front of hundreds of fellow believers - playing music that honors and praises our Lord. Ten years ago, I was playing drums also. But instead of having a group prayer before a set, I was cleaning a mirror with a rolled up dollar bill. It isn't something I am proud of, but I think it illustrates what God can do when you open your heart and mind to the Word.
Forty years. That's the amount of time I have been protected by my God, even when He knew my heart.
Grace. Forgiveness. Rejoicing.
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