A Matter of Perspective

So many people have told me how much they enjoyed my Carp stories (See Mar. 25 Post, "Fish Tales" to get caught up) that I thought I would see how much more "wisdom" I could glean from these delightful creatures.

When I was a kid, on the wall of the family's trailer at the lake was a plaque that read the following:

“How to cook carp: Take one 4-5 pound carp cleaned with head on. Marinate carp in 2 cups white vinegar and 1 pkg. Italian salad dressing mix for 8 hours. Place carp on a clean cedar board. Bake at 350 degrees for 2 hours. Remove from oven, discard carp and eat the board”.

You know, there is one country where Carp is considered good eating. Can you guess where? Great Britain. Yes, there are actually fishermen from England who travel all the way to the US just to go fishing. . .for Carp! We used to run into them around here once in a while, but now that they have heard that the Carp just hop right into your boat down in Mississippi, they all head down there now (groan)! I don’t know why the Brits like eating Carp, or how exactly they prepare it. My Granddad says that it tastes like dirt, literally. Because Carp are bottom feeders, they have a muddy taste which is why people don’t eat them. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised that the Brits like the taste of Carp. Some people would argue that the English are not exactly known for their fine cuisine. In fact, in London, there is a road called Queens Way, and it’s known for it’s outstanding restaurants. When I was there many years ago, I don’t think I saw a single English restaurant on Queens Way. There was French, Lebanese, Brazilian, Italian. . .no English restaurants. In fact, some say that if you travel in England, the best place to eat is in the local pubs where you can relish the local favorites like stuffed sheep stomach, kidney pie, deep fried fish & chips with mushy peas. . . hmmm, you know, this whole Carp thing is beginning to make more and more sense. And let’s face it, when you wash anything down with Guinness, you quickly forget what the food tasted like anyway. [All this, however, runs contrary to my dear friend, Lizi, who is from England and is one of the best cooks I know (although I've never tried her carp). Carp is actually relished in Asia, too, but my guess is that the wasabi drowns out the taste].

I guess the point to all of this is that perspective is everything. What we consider rubbish, others may consider haute cuisine. I recently told someone that we as human beings so often fall into the error of considering every perspective but God's. We rely on our own "wisdom" or that of the world, rather than living life through the eyes of faith. God is the arbiter of what is true, what is noble, what is good, what is beautiful, even what to feel. We must hold everything in our lives up to the lens of Scripture and seek to understand God's eternal perspective. All challenges are spiritual in nature. Am I self-loathing? Maybe I'm allowing someone else besides God tell me who I am. Am I overwhelmed by my circumstances? Maybe I'm not trusting God's righteous, sovereign hand in my life, or recognizing His discipline. Am I unhappy or unfulfilled? Maybe someone or something else is occupying the throne of my life besides God. . . .Wow, those Carp are good for something after all!

Tunnel Vision

People often ask me where I'm from since David and I came here from Charlotte to plant Wellspring Church. I am actually from Roanoke. It's always interesting when I’m out of town and meet people, and I tell them I’m from Roanoke, I often get in reply, “Oh, the Lost Colony -- that place where the settlers mysteriously disappeared!” And I have to correct them and say, “No, that’s Roanoke Island off the coast of NC. Roanoke Virginia, is the place where all the college graduates mysteriously disappeared (ba-da BING!). . . I know, I know, that’s harsh. After all, I came back to Roanoke after nearly 10 years away. I lived in the DC area for a few years (where I met my sweetie), and then Charlotte for 7 years. And here I am, back in the beautiful Roanoke Valley!

Much of my family is still in this area, and I love having that connection for my own kids. It's really neat to be able to share my own childhood experiences with them -- that many of the elements of my childhood are now their own, like the Mill Mountain Zoo, the Star, the downtown Farmer's Market, the Roanoke Wiener Stand, etc. They love hearing stories from my past, David's past, and especially from Grandma. My Mom has some really cute memories, and her grandkids are always prodding her to amuse them with the many recounts of her childhood.

One of the favorite stories takes place when my Mom was around 4 or 5. Her mother had just completed a home-made, three-layer, coconut cake for a church event. As they were rushing around getting ready to leave, my Mom admired the cake sitting on the dining room table ready to be transported. It was beautiful! It was big! It was fluffy! It was sweet! How she longed to taste the icing -- just a little, teeeeny taste. Surly no one would be the wiser. So, very carefully she took her finger and sampled a tiny bit of icing. She looked and noticed that her finger had left a small indentation. (Now, this is one of those times we have that come as close to an out-of-body experience as we'll ever get). My Mom went into sort of a trance. She touched the spot where her finger had been and took another small taste. She became fascinated with the impression her finger was leaving in the cake, "I wonder how far I can dig?" she thought to herself. And then it happened. The click-clack of her Mother's shoes approaching on the hardwood floor suddenly snapped her out of it, and she was staring at a finger-sized tunnel nearly halfway through the cake's side! She had become so transfixed by her little excavation project, that reality had been temporarily suspended! Truly, my Mom had experienced "tunnel vision!" Now what?!

Well, she reacted as most 4-year-olds do when faced with the impending consequences of their own sins -- she ran! Outside she bolted and plastered herself flat against the back side of their shed, with her heart pounding out of her chest! It wasn't long before she heard that back screen door fly open with a SMACK! and the high-pitched, anger-invoked, quivering voice of her Mother shouting, "Carolyn!!!" Through the back yard my Grandmother stormed, like a mad, snarling beast, and my Mother can recall hearing the SNAP! of a branch being torn from the nearby weeping willow (affectionately known as the "switch" tree)! The friendly, charming neighborhood of Sunset Village was now a dangerous place, for next door, Mrs. Eller was hanging out her wash. She had observed my Mother's flight and the subsequent pursuit of my Grandmother. "Lib! She's behind the barn!"

I don't think I have to elaborate any further, and can leave you, dear readers, to fill in the blanks from this point forward. This is not only a great childhood story, but it's a picture of how we ourselves often get "tunnel vision" and forget reality -- God's reality. We become transfixed by the world -- by something so seemingly attractive and innocent that before we know it, we've fallen into sin and, now what? Like my Mom, we typically run, thinking somehow we can escape the gaze of God and any reprocussions from our actions. My mother would certainly have gotten punished regardless of whether or not she had chosen to confess versus run, but I have a feeling that the wrath of my Grandmother would have been much less faced with a contrite, humble and repentant child. Instead, she had to chase down the offender, and the rubuke was harsh. Personally, I'm taking this lesson to heart. I'd much rather confess my sins to God and face His loving discipline than attempt to hide and experience the inevitable rod!

No Fly Zone

One of the benefits of homeschooling is that you can take spontaneous trips with your family. A few months ago, David had a continuing education class in McLean, Virginia. We were preparing to send him off for his 3-day trip when it occurred to him, "Why don't you come with me and take the kids into DC to see the Smithsonian while I'm at class?!" This had not even occurred to us, but I thought it was a great idea! The kids had been studying Ancient Egypt in their history lessons (Natural History Museum!), and our entire science curriculum this year was on astronomy (Air & Space Museum!), so my mind raced with the excitement of letting them see up close so much that would reinforce what they had been learning! In about five hours I had us all packed, hotel reservations made, plus a sitter arranged for our dog, Jack, and our fish, George (that has to be a record)!

We had a great time! The hotel had a shuttle service that would drop us off at the nearest Metro station and we would take the subway to the Washington Mall, and spent two days like that exploring! Since it was the middle of the week, we practically had the museums to ourselves! The last day we were there, the kids decided that they wanted to go up the Washington Monument. After enjoying the great view, they were delighted to discover a large tree nearby with low limbs just yards away from the monument, and within sight of the White House! While watching them climb and play, I noticed a flock of geese that had landed nearby, busily nibbling the grass. Earlier, I had described to the kids that parts of Washington DC have a "No Fly Zone" around it, and attempted to explain what that meant. Matthew, noticing the geese, said to me, "Airplanes can't fly over the White House, but birds can!" We laughed as we contemplated how birds could even land on the White House, and how they had no appreciation for whose lawn they had lighted upon -- the powerful person who dwells there and is unapproachable without special invitation!

This got my mind thinking about how we humans are a lot like those birds. Apart from Christ, we can have no real appreciation for whose world we have lighted upon, no concept of the awesome sovereignty and power of the One who allows us to dwell in His world! The "No Fly Zone" created by our sin that separated us from God has been lifted through the grace offered us in Christ! We are given special invitation to approach the Living God! Oh, that the eyes of the lost would be opened to see God for who He is, and worship!

Fish Tales

Fishing is a big sport around here, as many of you may know. My family fished a lot when I was a kid. We did most of our fishing at Smith Mt. Lake when family campgrounds outnumbered houses. My Grandparents and my Uncle both had lots they rented at a campground there called Indian Ridge (now a fancy subdivision). We spent so much time there, camping and fishing and just getting together with friends and family! My family loved to fish. In fact, my Uncle Jerry was so passionate about it that every year he would save his Christmas trees and then bring them to the cove and dump them in his favorite fishing spots. This was supposed to attract fish. And it worked for a while until the fish finally got smart and realized that there was just NEVER going to be presents there! And, of course, they stopped coming around them… But seriously, these trees really did attract fish.

One species we tried not to attract, however, were Carp. Have you seen these things? They get huge! My Granddad calls them "water pigs". If you have ever been to Smith Mountain Marina you know what I mean. Around the dock of this marina swim hundreds of Carp. Some get nearly 4 feet long, and people go there and feed them popcorn that you can buy inside the marina’s store. These Carp literally clammor over each other to get the popcorn, some completely out of the water at times with their big mouths open. They don’t have teeth, so you can even hand feed them! Well, I was there once as a teen, no joke, and there was a lady there watching the fish and she was holding this little fluffy, white miniature poodle (you know where this is going, right?). Poor little thing -- looked just like a giant piece of popcorn! So tragic, really…. No, just kidding! She didn’t drop the poodle, just relax! But my warped adolescent mind was imagining how awful, yet strangely cool it would have been to see!

And now there are these things called “Flying Asian Carp”, have you seen these? They were imported from Asia back in the 60’s and 70’s and are causing a real problem in the Mississippi basin. Apparently, these fish, which can get to be 45-50 pounds actually leap out of the water when startled, and you see videos of people out on their boats trying to steer through the water and these Carp are literally jumping out of the water, dozens of them, and landing in the boat! And the guys on the boat are waving their arms around trying to avoid being slapped in the face by these things! This is not a joke! It’s like Alfred Hitchcock meets Monty Python! You just can’t make stuff like this up. Experts are trying to figure out a way to get rid of this invasive species, but they just don’t know how. Well. . . I think they should save up all their Christmas trees and dump them in the river! And when the Carp all gather to see where the presents are, they can net them, BAM!, right there, while they’re all together! Oh, come to think of it, that won’t work because they’re Asian Carp! I don’t think they celebrate Christmas in Asia, do they? Well, that’s probably why they haven’t tried it. (groan) I’ve recently heard that Mississippi is now really trying to use this epidemic to their advantage (true story). They’re now promoting the flying Carp to hunters and other sportsmen who are being escorted on big tour boats with bows & arrows (with line attached)! So, we wish them luck with that. . .

All this silliness aside, many of Jesus' friends and disciples were fishermen, and of course He told Peter that He would make him a "fisher of men." Like I tell my kids, Jesus is pretty smart. He used the widley known image and experience of fishing to communicate a profound truth. Christ told Peter to let down his nets again after many failed attempts. Peter complied, and you know what happened. The nets were so full, Peter had to call for another boat to help haul away the catch! For most sports fishermen, it's not the catch that's most enjoyable -- it's the attempt. As disciples of Christ, we are to fish for souls. The catch is up to Him! He will lead us where and how to fish, but we need to be ready with our nets!

(Want to see a video of the Asian Carp epidemic? Check this out!)

More than we can bear...

Yesterday was Resurrection Sunday -- Easter morning! After the morning basket mayhem with the kids, and a wonderful worship service, we drove to my aunt's home in Goodview to enjoy Easter luncheon with my extended family. The patriarch of these gatherings is always my Grandfather, Howard, who will be 91 this April. He's led a tough life. At age 8, his father died leaving his mother and 9 siblings to manage their farm. They did ok for a few years, but in the 5th grade, my Grandfather dropped out of school to work it full time. It wasn't enough, however, and they had to sell. His mother got a job cleaning houses, and the kids were split up. Some lived with relatives, others with friends or aquaintances. My Grandfather lived with a farmer in Bonsack and was his farm hand. Once he reached his teen years, he began getting other jobs. I often tease him that I don't think there's a job out there that he hasn't tried! He worked in a meat processing plant, furniture manufacturer, farmer's market, drove a cab, even worked for a munitions manufacturer in Radford. It was that job that kept him out of WWII, as he was exposed to too many toxins from the arsenal to be accepted into the military. He did, however, get enlisted as an army cook! This explains why he seems incapable of cooking for less than 20 people! Finally, Granddad ended up at N&W Railroad. He started as a Brakeman on the caboose and after 33 years, retired as a full conductor. After more than 60 years of marriage, 4 children, 5 grandchildren and 10 great-grandchildren, he is still mentally and physically sharp, and maintains his home, vegetable garden, and duck pond.

Two years ago, his wife, my Grandma, passed away. Her health had been poor for years, and Granddad waited on her hand & foot. His love for her was deep and constant. Her passing was hard, and we were worried that, like many elderly couples, Granddad would soon follow as a consequense of his own grief. But God is merciful. Granddad made it through the funeral in what seemed to be a daze. He remembers very little about the day, and tears up when he recounts it, feeling bad that he can only remember bits and pieces. I tell him, however, that perhaps it was the mercy of God -- protecting him from more than he could bear. He agrees.

I tell my kids all the time that God is pretty smart. I am so grateful that God has protected us from more than we could bear. We can not bear the weight of our sins, or pay our debt to God. But he knows our frame, and in His infinite mercy, He made a way to save us from ourselves. This Easter, and every day, I am so grateful to God for His mercies in the little things, like protecting my Granddad's heart through his most difficult challenge, and for the greatest mercy to us in Christ.