How I Spend My Lunchtime

My youngest son will turn 10 this month. All he's been begging for is a hamster. His older brother had one and his older sister currently has two. So we yielded to his wishes and got one for him this past Sunday. But something didn't seem quite right with this hamster from the very beginning. I don't know, maybe it's because my son named her Snowball even though she was dark colored, speckled and long haired. She also made these terrible noises when you tried to pick her up. And she had this odd odor. Much more stinky than just your normal hamster odor.

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Once we got the little critter home and in her spanking new cage she just didn't seem very interested in exploring like every other hamster I've ever known. At first I thought she was just traumatized by the whole process of being in a new environment. So we all let her be for a day to allow her to acclimate to her new home. On day two she still didn't seem very hamster-like. No real running on her wheel. No stuffing her pouches full of food and hiding it in her bedding area. Not much activity at all.

Well, I knew something more was wrong than just being the new fur ball on the block. So last night (that would be Wednesday and we got the hamster on Sunday) we decided we would return the little animal, get a refund and look for a suitable replacement at a different store. Today I decided I would save my son from any odd feeling he might experience in taking the pet back so I went home over lunch to make the return. Boy am I glad I did. Poor little Snowball had gone on to that giant running wheel in the sky. So, doing my duty as a dad I hurried up and cleaned the cage as thoroughly as I could to rid it of any remaining health hazards and prepare it for a new occupant. (I wonder, do hamsters worry about things like living in a house where a death just occurred? Do I need to have the new animal sign a disclaimer that I've disclosed the history of their dwelling to them? Help me any of you animal attorneys out there.)

Then I put "the remains" back in the little box in which we brought her home and proceeded to the pet store. Here's a recap of that exchange.

"I need to return this hamster."

"What's the problem?"

"It has expired. I only bought it Sunday."

"Hmmmm. It seems we've been having a lot of bad luck with our hamsters lately. So do you want to exchange it or get a refund?"

"I'll just take the refund."

Needless to say, we'll get our replacement at a different store that is having better "luck" with their hamsters.

** Not an actual picture of the deceased hamster.

The Strange Change Machine

The family I grew up in wasn't very affluent by any standard. My mom was, and still is, a great budgeter. I can remember the ritual each payday of going grocery shopping with my parents and getting to run the "clicker" to help keep track of how much we were spending. In those days you paid cash or you didn't buy it. Some weeks we'd even have enough left to buy chips or some other luxury item. As a matter of fact, we were pretty poor I guess. Though I never really knew it or felt that way. Sure I knew lots of other kids who had more toys or neater stuff than I did. But I was content and happy so it really didn't matter.



Christmas was always such a highly anticipated day. It was always the one time of the year when something amazing happened. Somehow I'd waken and find things under the tree I'd been wanting so badly but was almost to scared to hope for because I didn't want to be disappointed. One of the items that to this day is on the list of my best childhood gifts ever was the Strange Change Machine by Mattel.

It was so cool! You'd take these plastic squares and place them in the heated chamber. Like magic these squares would morph (no a word they used back in the 60's) into creatures. Once cooled the creatures were hard forms that you could play with on the plastic mountain-like surface that came with the set. Then at any time your could place the creatures back in the heating chamber. This would soften them up so you could put them in the compressing chamber, turn the crank and remold them into the square they started as, complete with the Mattel logo imprinted on it.

I have no idea how much this cost my parents. I don't even know if they realize what a treasure that gift seems to me even now, evoking all the warm memories. It makes me wonder what things will my children remember from a childhood Christmas. What's on your list of best Christmas gifts received as a kid?

Yesterday was a really good day. Yesterday was also a very tough day. I tend to be a very introspective person. These past few months my head has been quite the high traffic area. I have so many seemingly random things firing off between my ears. Yet somehow I sense they are interrelated. I just haven’t been able to fit all the pieces together to know what the big picture of my life looks like. Just a glance at the front of the box would help. I think I at least have most of the edges in place. Well, here goes.

The details of what’s printed on the first side of the cardboard doesn’t really matter all that much. It only helps us understand the extent of God’s grace and how far He’ll go in order to write on the other side of our cardboard. And as a matter of perspective, side A is just a blip compared to eternity spent experiencing the reality of side B. So can we please spend more time celebrating everybody’s side B rather than needing to see some one’s side A to somehow make us feel like our side A is less bad?

To what extent will God go to get my attention? Will I or others I love suffer because that was the only way God could get through to me? I hear stories on know people who go through terrible, tragic events. But it is through those events they refocus their heart on God. I’d like to think my reaction to losing my spouse or a child, or of having a disease would be to still sing ‘Blessed Be the Name” with the same gusto I do now. But those words are so easy to thoughtlessly sing when He seems to be in the “give” mode. Will I be just as convicted to sing of His blessings when “take away” is the status?

Okay, here’s a big one. At first I thought I shouldn’t put this here online. But then I realized, I only get like one hit a week so who’s gonna know anyway. The sin I struggle with most, the thing that rules over me and that I hate most about myself is pride. I don’t mean it in the sense that I think I’m better than others or that I look down on other people. And I don’t mean that I think it’s wrong when I know I’m doing some things well, like trying to raise good kids or having a good work ethic.

But so often I know I lock God or others out of the equation because I’m “smart enough” to figure things out on my own. Or I decide it’s just easier to depend only on myself because I’ve seen far too many people bearing the lifelong scars, mental and physical, from relying on the wrong person(s). And besides, I am dependable so you can rely on me without ever having to reciprocate because I don’t need to rely on you! I am also very good at rationalizing that God has gifted me with the brains so isn’t that close enough to relying on Him that it counts?

I really hate to stop here. But I’m out of time. I hope I can continue this soon. We may be getting close to a breakthrough.

Lost Vegas

Last week I was in Las Vegas for a few days attending a business related conference. Since I don’t indulge in most of the activities that are available to those making “Sin City” their destination of choice, (Okay, I confess, I did drop a few dollars into a slot machine. But that’s it.) I was afforded a lot of time to walk around and make some observations. Don’t mind me while I just note some of them here, in no particular order.

I was reminded anew of just how blessed I am to not have an addictive personality and have some measure of self-control. Oh how many have made just one or two bad choices that have reaped an avalanche of consequences that could have been averted with a simple “no” before it all got started.

The reality is far different than the image. As I landed and took the shuttle to the resort at night I could see all the bright lights advertising all the fun that awaited the visitors to Vegas. Sure there are some very interesting themes to the casinos and in the architecture. But it’s all a façade, a scheme to draw you inside where the real theme is “give me lots of money as I fool you into thinking you are being entertained and you have a slight chance of winning a little bit.” Overhearing some conversations during breakfast at the conference, there were people who had lost more money the night before than all the expenses my company incurred to send me and two others there for three nights and four days. And it’s as if these people were bragging about losing that much. Hmmmm. Since they like just giving it away, I wonder if they’d go for just handing the cash over to me. I’ll let them brag all they want. And I’d even double tithe on it!

It’s not just the image versus reality as it relates to the casinos. The explicit sexuality on display just makes your feel defiled by simply walking down the street. There are groups of people on seemingly every corner trying to pass out pornographic advertisement for either bars or “services” of all kinds. (I’m not talking “classical” or “contemporary” worship service styles either.) It seems almost any depravity can be found if the price is right. After all, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?

But in addition to the disgust it was all very heart wrenching and sorrowful. What could drive somebody to sell their bodies like that? Did they run away from home because they felt unloved? Were they trapped in that lifestyle due to addiction or something else? Had they come, drawn by the bright lights and promise of success, only to find themselves making one “temporary” compromise after another to make ends meet? It made me want to get home and tell my wife and kids, especially my daughters, how much I love them and how special they are.

The whole time I was there it was like there was just this dark, icky sensation that enveloped everything. Almost as if I was the only one who could even see the real evil that lurked behind the glittery false fronts. Or if others could see it, they just didn’t care. People are funny that way. Most of the time they really do know right from wrong. But often it’s easier to rationalize why wrong isn’t so wrong than it is to take a stand and live in a way that is different from the world around us.

I’m still unpacking the many things I’ve been contemplating after my Las Vegas trip. So I don’t really know all of what I’ll take from that experience yet. Jesus loves the world and the world desperately needs Him. What is my part in His plan? What's yours?

Lousy Bloggers Anonymous

Hello, my name is David and I am a lousy blogger. (“Hello David,” comes the echo of the gathered crowd of other members in the twelve step LBA program.) We know who we are. Those who think it would be fun to create a blog to express our thoughts on things and share the happenings in our lives. We start off with good intentions of logging in at least every couple of days. But then the couple of days become once a week, then two weeks. And before we realize it a month has passed and we have hardly thought about posting on our blog.

Don’t take this as any sort of apology to you, the reader, for my lack of staying current. (It’s not like there are even very many who read this blog.) I guess I’m more disappointed with myself, as though I’m shirking my responsibility and neglecting the obligation I assumed when I decided to have a blog. Will I start posting on a more regular basis? I hope so. But I’m not really going to promise that.

Here’s what I think is really going on that has made me hesitate to blog as of late. I’m a bit of a political junkie. This being election season, there are so very many issues and candidates about which I have strong opinions. I know one function of a blog is to be a forum which allows people to post their views unencumbered by the worry about equal time or edittorial review. That’s one of the things I love about reading other blogs, the chance to read another’s opinion and get into their head a little. And there is so much I would love to blog about.

However, I also realize my true citizenship is in the heavenly kingdom. As such, there is also an obligation to promote unity and not division within the body. Does posting just for the sake of feeling good about spouting my political views in this heated climate serve any real eternal purpose?

Does that mean I won’t discuss politics with fellow believers if asked? Not at all. I’m more than happy to have a civil, rational and open political discussion provided I am certain the parties involved and I will still be able to walk away without injury to the relationship. And let’s face it, we do live here so what happens in our government does effect us. Will I vote? You bet. Though I know our problems cannot truly be solved apart from the hearts of people being changed, I can cast a vote for those whom I think will create a climate which will better reflect my own values.

I don’t know. I’ve really been trying to get my head around what “being in the world but not of the world” should look like in a situation like this election and the world of politics. Maybe I’m a bit misguided here about the whole not posting political opinions. I’d like to think that readers who know me would give me the benefit of the doubt and be mature enough to perhaps allow my views to differ from theirs without it getting personal. But I guess for now I’ll err on the side of caution and not risk becoming a stumbling block.

$700,000,000,000.00 is a huge number!

How far would $700,000,000,000.00 be in Balloom Dollars? Let's see. I would have to work for about 11.3 million years to earn that much. It would pay off my mortgage nearly 61,950 times over. My kids could attend Tabor, including room and board, for around 5,833,333 years each. It would purchase a new Balloom family minivan every day for the next 66,150 years. At $3.50 a gallon, it would purchase 200,000,000,000 gallons of gas for said minivans which would enable me to drive to Disney World and back 6,755,555,555 times. And if my family of six wanted to stay at Disney World for a week at the most expensive time of the year in one of the high end resorts including meals, we could stay for 110,414,100 weeks. If we wanted to give the $700,000,000,000 away, we could pay for our church to build 127,272 sanctuaries. We could pay for 100 Billion Operation Christmas Child shoe boxes. We could fun K-LOVE radio in Wichita for 2,663,622 years. We could fund the TLC $40,000project in Chonburi, Thailand 17,500.000 over. We could give over $100 to every person on the planet. (A huge sum in thrid world countries.)

Hmmmmm.

Olympic Fervor

I've been watching the Olympics quite a bit these last few evenings. Amid the coverage of the actual events the network throws in all these stories about the different athletes and how they have trained and prepared for the games. Many of them have sacrificed years of being away from family and have given up living a "normal" life. And relative to the number of athletes present and the quality of the competition, the odds for most of them of winning any medal at all are very slim. Yet still they press on, making their bodies be faster and stronger and more enduring, just for the chance to compete while the world watches and cheers.

Then it hits me, what a pathetic, slothful Christian I am. I can hardly keep consistency in my daily walk and devotions. A simple thing like getting out of bed early often seems like too big a sacrifice to make. The athletes' lives are consumed by their passion for their sport. And even after years of training they have no assurance that they will even make the team. But anyone who calls on Jesus will be saved. And victory is already secured. The prize I strive for is so much better than some medallion awarded every four years. I need to beat my mind, my body and especially my will into submission in a more fervent pursuit of godliness and righteousness. Just think what a difference it would make in our world if all Christians were consumed with Olympic-like fervor.