A Chicago businessman had no idea he was humiliating an “icon in the community.” Outside a local US courthouse, he became angry at a seventy-nine-year-old African-American woman. After arguing with her and calling her Rosa Parks (a famous African-American civil rights activist), he slapped and spit on her. The woman, however, was a judge! The man was arrested and charged with four counts of aggravated battery and a hate crime.
Ihave a friend who has wounds so deep that she resists the compassionate love of others. Caring people have reached out to my friend. They would give their lives for her (in fact, in many ways they’ve done precisely that). Yet she runs from their love. She fears being loved. The love offered to her is so strong, and her heart so weak, that it terrifies her. It seems safer just to stay in her cocoon.
One of our favorite family vacation sites is a beautiful beach community located in an adjoining state. We like to go there during the “off season” when few tourists are around. Though the ocean water is a little chilly, we enjoy swimming in an indoor pool. Also, there’s a lazy river that surrounds the pool and holds a special appeal for our kids. They’ve tried to swim against its current over the years, only to be carried in the opposite direction.
Near the climax of the movie Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, a villain shoots Indiana’s father to motivate the distressed son to enter a booby-trapped temple and retrieve the Holy Grail. “The healing power of the Grail is the only thing that can save your father now,” he said. “It’s time to ask yourself what you believe.” I deplore what the evil man did, but he was on to something: What we believe determines what we do.
When the temperature dipped to -27 degrees Celsius in my city, newscasters cautioned the public against going outside. An authority in a neighboring state declared, “In 10 minutes you could be dead without the proper clothes.” After hearing warnings such as these, my husband said what I was thinking: “I think I want to go outside . . . just to feel what it’s like.”
In 2013, a train carrying 218 people derailed in Spain, killing 79 and injuring 66 more. Though the train’s engineer said he couldn’t explain why the accident occurred, video footage provided answers. The train was going as fast as 119 mph before it hit the deadly curve—more than twice the speed limit for that section of track. So it wasn’t just the speed that caused the accident. It was the combination of the speed and the location of the track. The boundary of the speed limit was created for the protection of the passengers, but the seasoned engineer ignored it, and it led to tragedy.
The picture in my news magazine showed a Moscow circus bear that was shuffling across a tightrope in preparation for its next performance. More interesting was the woman sitting in the background, slumped over, with her head resting on one hand, as if she had seen this act before. She couldn’t have looked more bored.
The ocean was churning. Massive waves were causing the huge vessel to list from side to side. As I stood and looked out a window, I was amazed at the power and fury of the storm. The beating of the raindrops on the metal deck matched the rapid beating of my heart as the ship was buffeted by fierce elements.
I was babysitting two 5-year-old boys while their mothers went shopping. They were having a fun time playing together until one of the children threw a ball that accidentally struck the other on the nose.
Some years ago, I had a sobering epiphany regarding my faith. After a decade of ministry, I realized that I didn’t really know God very well. Yes, I knew there was a God and that He was good and holy. I knew that Jesus had died for my sins. But did I really know God’s character well? His personality? Not very deeply.
I had an interesting conversation with a friend recently. “Much preaching about women dressing modestly has been destructive,” she said, “because it subtly places the blame for men’s lust on women. Men should take responsibility for their lust, and women should be free to wear what they want.” My friend’s words got me thinking.
A colleague discovered that her name was used on a website to attract people to attend a Bible seminar. But she hadn’t actually been invited to be the speaker. Immediately, she took action to investigate the matter. Could this be a case of identity theft?
Wouldn’t it be nice if we could fit God into a box? When we want to do or say something that’s not Christlike, we could simply place Him in it and shut the lid. Perhaps we’d like to do so just before cursing during a bad traffic jam or when we’re checking something out on Youtube, Facebook, or Twitter that isn’t appropriate. After our dalliance with sin, we could simply bring God back out.
Only a handful of people know who wrote the book Embracing Obscurity: Becoming Nothing in Light of God’s Everything. The writer, who published the book under the name “Anonymous,” is a well-established author who is living out the main point of his (or her) message. According to Anonymous, the book is “a call to stop imitating the world’s formula for success and instead follow the model of our humble King.”