Living Hazzardously

Little pieces of our journey with Jesus

Pages

The lawn chair that stole me beer

by

I just don’t know what year it was but I remember the situation like it was only yesterday. I was sitting in a lawn chair, I don’t remember where, I just remember saying “WHY?”

Rewind to the late 1990’s, I was a garbage man. I was working for an outfit in Eagan MN and living in Anoka MN, a distance of about 40 miles, directly through the heart of the city.

After driving to work at 2 am, I would hop into my 50,000 lbs truck and hurl it through the back alleys and driveways of the Minneapolis and St Paul metro area, reaching speeds of 20 miles per hour past telephone poles that are inches away from the mirrors, stopping and dragging dumpsters out into the alley across snow banks and avoiding racoons and rats on a daily basis… I could tell you hundreds of stories… The prostitute trying to stay warm on a cold winter night. The cat carcass that was obviously served for dinner the night before… So much more… but I am not here to tell the horror stories of hauling trash on the UofM campus where the hot tub party was in full swing as I backed into the dumpster at 4:30 am…. Or ending my day at about 1 pm, just to drive another hour to get home… or maybe not drive home. Maybe I decided to stop off with the guys for a cold beverage… finally heading home at 7pm…

That is not the story I am here to tell you about, I’m here to tell you about the hope I was given in a new life.

I continued this pattern of consuming the “COLD LIBATIONS” well past my garbage days, into my new career of HVAC. Day after day, Night after night…Monday night football means a case of Michelob Golden and snacky foods, a bag of chips, a fresh smoked goose or a deep fried turkey… Some days the boys would be with me and others I went alone, but never would I miss a Monday night football game… I told myself “this is the one night out of seven that’s MINE!

MY NIGHT, truth be told, I was able to not drink most evenings, instead I would fix the house, take the boys camping and still drink every other night I could. I would tell myself “as long as I don’t start drinking alone, I am not a drunk bum or alchy”. I remembered my father, and how every Wednesday night he had his “ONE DAY”. The one day he would turn onto a bike path on the way home down the parkway, or run into every curb with that right front tire, making a miscalculation on every turn….  I never knew I would be like him, drunk one night a week. I wouldn’t know how much I drank and “DIDNT GET DRUNK” until my eyes were opened to the truth. 

The eye opening started one night in Eagan, at a “buddies” house, eating deep fried anything, drinking until it was time to leave as Monday night football concluded for the night. I was living in Ramsey at that point, just a few miles further now. I wasn’t drunk, I just had a few. I was feeling sick, I must have eaten something that didn’t settle. I struggled to see the road as it was moving all over the place on that clear summer evening. As I crossed the river on MN77 (Cedar Ave) I felt the welling up from deep inside, but like the good drunk I had become, slowly and steadily, I overcame the issue, grabbing a jacket to mop up the mess I just made all over the steering wheel, dash board and seat… I GOT THIS MAN!!! 

I sat years later, reflecting on that night, reflecting on my class reunion, reflecting on my wallet…Remeber? I was sitting in the lawn chair, and I asked “WHY?” I sat holding a half downed can of Budweiser, I looked at it and said “WHY”. I set it down, I looked at it, I remembered all the good times I had because of the bottle, can or mixer… never have I had a moment so clear in my life… never touched a drop after that, but the temptation, coercion and manipulations were just starting… The sideways look from the guys you work with when you say “No thanks, I don’t go to bars” like it’s some sort of perverse character flaw. The gal at work that’s flirtatious and asks you out to have drinks at her place… The ex wife that screams “YOU USED TO BE FUN BEFORE YOU QUIT DRINKING”… 

And still, the Lord held my hand stronger and whispered softly… “I won’t stop you, but you have the choice to not drink, to change your life, to be a good father, to be clean”

That last beer was probably around the year 2008, I am only guessing from circumstances I remember in our life. So I’m not exactly positive what year or what date, It wasn’t a date I thought to mark down, record or celebrate like so many other folks can do. To me? I just stopped drinking in a super natural way that can only be credited to the Lord of Lords, King of Kings, the almighty God, creator of heaven and earth, creator of me and you! I take no credit aside from giving up the fight and listening to the “TRUTH”. A small voice that called me out of darkness and into the light. 

I hope my testimony finds you well. I pray you can know the hope I had on that fate filled lawn chair, somewhere in Minnesota when I looked at that can of beer and said one simple word “WHY?”

May God richly bless you on the beautiful Sunday morning. C

The useful idiot.

by

I feel like I would be neglectful if I did not mention Charlie Kirks assassination. At 31 years old, a father, a husband, a son… I have seen so much hate this week that I feel ill this morning. To actually rejoice in the death of a person, to me seems like pure evil! But I don’t want to talk about the shooting, I want to talk about the Christian response. 

I remember back on September 11, 2001 at 7:46 AM CDT, we all stopped our day, stood in shock and could not believe the hatred we saw playing out as not just one but three planes caused death and destruction…. But wait, there were FOUR PLANES!! The heroes in one plane subverted the some of that evil, at least the plans of killing those on the ground. They sacrificed their lives to divert into a field… How many heroes were there? Thousands! As a nation pulled together in solidarity, UNITED under one flag… but now divided… This makes me sad.

Fast forward to May 2, 2011, U.S. forces assassinated a man in Abbottabad, Pakistan. 

Did Osama Bin Laden get wept over? Did he have an outcry over his death? No, people rejoiced and celebrated, over a human that was snuffed out in the name of justice. Why are these two deaths so different, and more importantly, why do we not all agree these deaths are both a tragedy?

I can’t speak for you, but I can challenge you. Look at the death of Osama. Look at the life of Osama. He was so filled with “Vitriolic” hate and he wanting those who don’t agree with him to be murdered… and what’s more, he actually wanted them suffer in pain that ultimately ended in death. 

I will make a bold claim: The child who killed Charlie Kirk was the same type of person as Osama. There is little difference aside from the fact that Osama would have joyfully killed this boy and this boy probably knew little to nothing about 9-11.

So why do I call Kirk’s assassin a boy? Because of his ignorance? YES!! Because he was heavily influenced by a narrow minded, non inclusive ideology. Where difference of opinion means you should murder in cold blood a person you disagree with? An Ideology where if you don’t agree with another person, THEY SHOULD DIE?? 

My entire life I have lived by  code, that code is simple: “sticks and stones may break my bones but names can never hurt me” in simple terms, If you come after me physically, I will use equal or greater force to protect myself and my family,  you choose the level of force you want me to protect myself with. If its words, great, I don’t really care what words you use, you do not have control over me with mere words, I control that, not you! Say what you will, you are not that important that I will surrender my demeanor over words. But may God have mercy on your soul if I need to protect my family, physically. 

So to speak about Kirk’s murderer and Osama, I do not rejoice in the punishment that is fitting for a murderer. But, we do need to face the consequences of our actions, not our thoughts. But, if thoughts become action, a swift correction needs to take place. 

These men that are so stirred by words, like Kirk’s murderer and Osama, are part of a bigger picture and it has to do with “thought police”. They have been so influenced by mere words that they take action against a person for words they feel are hurtful, on the same level as murder, therefore, murder is justified… 

The term “Useful idiot” comes to mind from an interview I watched once with a member of the KGB. It simply means that this useful idiot does the “dirty work” blindly. Convinced by words to carry out tragedy and hate. They are easily manipulated and don’t really think things through. Motivated by hate, they simply respond to emotional stimuli and perform the tasks they are told to do. They don’t really know why they think they way they do, they just do… This was the person Charlie Kirk loved and was ministering to, those that thought hate over opinion deserves death. Charlie never spoke a hatful word, sure he was human, maybe he got excited, but never hated anyone. If you don’t believe me? Verify for your self, look up the full clip of what he said rather than some 2 second sound bite from the news outlet you trust, break down the rhetoric you are fed, look it up for your self, prove me wrong!

Did you rejoice in Kirk’s murder? Did you rejoice in Osama’s death? Did you weep over the thousands that Osama murdered? Will you rejoice when justice is served to a man that murders in cold blood? Or will you weep for a lost soul, turned over to torment for eternity? I do not rejoice in the end of a human life, but id do rejoice in justice. The termination of life? No, but I do rejoice in justice. I weep for the lost souls, BUT I rejoice in evil coming to an end. 

If you are reading this and feel like Charlie’s words justify his death, I want you to know, I will be praying for you. If you rejoice in the death of a murderer, I will also pray for you. If you rejoice in justice, I will pray with you. If you are reading this and don’t care, I will pray that you see a reason to care.

I do not wish for any to go to hell but rather that all come to know Jesus.

In prayer either with you or for you this week. C.

Think positive

by

Do you remember the line from a long time ago? In the movie “Charlie and the Chocolate factory”?… if you remember it, sing it with me… “THINK POSITIVE…”

My oldest son played the part of Grampa in the high school play back in Bell Plaine… For many years that is exactly what I did, I just had positive thoughts, replacing the negative with the positive. It actually works well. 

BUT, there are times that positive thoughts simply means you are not looking at the situation realistically. Sometimes, a good old fashioned dose of pessimism is exactly what the situation calls for… Sometimes, there isn’t a really bright side. Sometimes, the negative is what you need so you can make corrections. Sometimes reality is a perspective that is not so jolly and positive. Sometimes, change is probably for the best.

For the most part I look at the world with a perspective that my cup is actually full. Because half with water and the other half with air, is actually full.

Think about that, it’s always full of something and to me, that’s “opportunity”… maybe to grow, maybe to move, maybe to withdraw, maybe to engage?…. One thing I know for certain, God has always provided better for me when I have moved in faith to his calling… listening to that still, small voice, hearing God’s words clearly and then stepping out, when it’s time.

When I was growing up, my father taught me many hard lessons. When he wasn’t screaming profanities and breaking stuff that he would later blame us kids… He would collect and store even more “stuff” in the hoarder house,  on the north side of MPLS. One thing I did learn is how to work, how to value work, how to never give up and how to never quit… If I didn’t learn these lessons, there was a swift reach for that wire coat hanger, i felt it across my backside to remind me what the best choices are for me. 

I learned these and many more lessons in life and then put these lessons into practice. It wasn’t all bad and it taught me a great deal of self discipline. I remember a quote, I think from Ben Franklin, could be wrong, but it went something like this… “Most folks are afraid of opportunity because it comes dressed in overalls and looks like work”. So to me, the world looked like one big opportunity and I was never afraid of digging in and getting dirty… This has served me well for over 50 years now… and that has been good… but now….  My body hurts… When I say “hurts” I mean it hurts in ways I don’t understand, in places I didn’t know existed and from things I have been doing my whole life. It’s like I have been betrayed by father time and he is getting a good laugh out of watching me struggle. Time is nobody’s friend, when it comes down to the brass tacks.

So back to the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory… change is necessary from time to time, some change we make ends up with bad choices, we should be quick to adjust and change. Correct our trajectory. Yet others are seasonal and we may be there longer, we may get comfortable and compliant. Sometimes we just fight with God until that one day, we finally give in and move away… it can be very painful, but I have found if we stop fighting the change as soon as we know its time, things go much better. The sooner we can get back to serving God the way he has asked us to serve him, the better. Rest in the wisdom of the Lord and not on your own understanding. Things just go better. Putting off all bitterness, seek first to understand and then to be understood. 

I realize change is needed, I know I can not keep going forever, I just pray the Lord sends the right “younger man” to us, so that he may learn this business and take it over. If not, I have a bunch of equipment to sell, give away or toss out… one day, but I am not quitting yet. I have realized I’m not able to replace two furnaces in one day like I was doing only a few short years ago… nowadays? I take breaks! Never did that before. I take a lunch break too! It’s oddly refreshing. I only work 6-8 hours before calling it a day (sometimes)… I retreat to my home where my faithful foot massager is waiting for my daily dose of “ohh that’s a new pain!”

Change in life is the one thing that never changes.

So I say good bye to that which was and say hello to that great new tomorrow, with open arms, no regrets, no bitterness, only joy filled anticipation of what God has in store for us… as in Jess and I… 

God bless you all this day. We love you all and hope your next change is not filled with pain, but a joy that surpasses all understanding. C