On my way to the back of Walmart to get what I came for, I saw this amazing sight: an entire aisle devoted to Peeps. An entire aisle!
All the colors are there. Pink, yellow, blue, and purple are represented. But look at the flavors.
I’ve only eaten traditional Peeps. None of these sound appealing to me. But I have not tried them, so I should reserve judgment. But none of these flavors tempt me.
The first Peeps were hand-piped in 1948 by the Rodda Candy Company in Lancaster, PA. Just Born purchased Rodda in 1953 and automated the production of Peeps. Peeps are the number one non-chocolate Easter candy. The Just Born factory produces 5.5 million Peeps per year.
Peeps retail stores just couldn’t cut it, the last one closing in 2019. But don’t worry. There are plenty at Walmart!
When we rounded the corner (the big dogs and I), I caught a glimpse of the first color of the day. It’s usually dark when we leave for our morning walk, and the world is mostly shades of dark, punctuated by white lights on houses, headlights on cars, and the moon and a few stars in the sky.
Then, suddenly, something beautiful happens. Long before the edge of the sun touches the horizon, its light awakens the first color of the day. Light blue is first. Not a deep navy blue like you might expect. Pinks often accompanies the blue, though oranges might greet me as well. It depends on the clouds, the weather, and the season.
That moment never gets old. I always exclaim, “Wow.” The first color of the day takes my breath away. Morning loves to splash color in my field of vision. Yes, it’s a new day!
When God said, “Let there be light,” was it white? Yellowish? All the colors of the spectrum? Did that light explode or take over the darkness gradually, intentionally, and beautifully? God’s creative command echoes every morning as that first color touches the night.
I have a whole lot of questions about this man who crossed the intersection in front of me today.
What does he mean by a twisted spine? My quick Google search took me to websites that described scoliosis, when the spine twists or curves to one side or the other. It can cause trouble breathing as well as chronic pain.
What about schizophrenia? Although I hear that word often, Google told me that less than one percent of the population have this mental health condition. Symptoms include delusions, hallucinations, disorganized speech, memory challenges, and decision making problems. There is medical treatment.
How much does an e-bike cost?
This appears to be a Vivi Sport e-bike available at Walmart for under $500. That’s pretty affordable. But if I had to choose between an e-bike and food, I would buy something to eat.
While I’m on the topic, why do e-bikes have pedals? I learned it is so that they are considered bicycles rather than motorcycles. They don’t have to be licensed in the same way.
I have questions for this man. Are you a veteran? Sadly, too many veterans have to wait a long time to get the treatment they need for physical and mental challenges.
How did you afford an e-bike? Where do you charge it up at night? Where do you ride your e-bike to and from?
What medical care have you found? Can you afford your medication? Are you constantly in pain?
When I find myself lacking compassion, I know I should get to know the person who is asking for and needing assistance. Maybe money isn’t their most important need at the moment.
And then maybe the most important question of all: what if that were me? What would I do in their shoes? Where would I go? Who would I ask for help?
I never seem to have as much compassion as I should when I see someone riding an e-bike with a sign like this in front of me. I jump to conclusions, harden my heart, and think like someone who doesn’t even know Jesus. It’s convicting. It drives me to repentance. And it makes me realize I still have so much to learn.
I decided to frame my day with a different word. Instead of busy, I’m going to define my life with the word full.
“Busy” sounds stressful, tiring, and negative. “Full” suggests something positive, satisfying, and appealing.
Busy lives are occupied with those who drain your energy. Full lies are fueled by those who energize and lift up.
Would you rather be busy or full?
What if the interruptions, requests, and appeals were those things that filled your day? What if they gave you something rather than taking something from you?
That’s the difference. And you determine the difference. Did you simply give? Or did you receive?
I desire days full of learning, experiencing, doing, and being. I’ve learned to love days filled with people, places, and events. Those same days could be characterized as routine, dull, and boring.
Or they might be described as full.
It depends on your perspective. If I don’t get everything done, it might just be a day filled with people I love, the rest my body needs, and time to figure out what’s really important.
Most of my days are full. I am rarely bored. I have places to go, people to see, things to do, new experiences, and interruptions.
As we rounded a corner early this morning, I saw an “Estate Sale” sign pointing down the street. I thought, “Those are powerful words.”
An estate sale follows someone’s death. Those words remind us of our mortality. Death is certain.
You can’t take it with you. Someone left behind a house full of stuff. They had no heirs or no one wanted the accumulated possessions. A houseful of collections, artwork, furniture, clothing, pictures, appliances, and tools would be sold for a small fraction of their cost. Anything unsold would be donated to a thrift store or left on the curb for trash collection. All of those things saved up for, purchased, and cared for are worthless.
That someone must have died alone. They survived the death of a spouse. Perhaps they never married. Family lived far away. Did they leave a pet behind?
How did their life end? Did someone discover them after a few days of not answering the phone? That’s sounds gruesome. Did they spend their last days in the hospital? In a previous post, I spoke of neighbors I’ve never actually seen. If they dropped dead at home, who would miss them?
As we walked down the street, I looked for more signs directing traffic to the estate sale. It might be at a house I walked by all the time. Maybe I knew the deceased. Maybe I had waved at them in the past.
By the dawn’s early light I see the SUV tailgate wide open. I’ve featured unusual sights in front of this house before. It never disappoints. The front door is closed. No one is walking in and out of the house unloading groceries or loading up luggage for a trip.
The tailgate has been open all night.
I know it happens. It’s late, you’re tired, and no one is helping you carry in your stuff. Once inside the house, you get into a conversation, or you have to go to the bathroom, something on TV catches your attention, or you thought the other person closed the door. Just like that you forget all about the vehicle.
Until the next morning.
Did it drain the battery? Probably not. The light automatically turns off after a minute or two. Has a lizard or bug crawled in? Probably. But neither will appear until you’re driving down the highway. Is everything damp with morning dew? Yep. That’ll wake you up when you sit on the seat in the morning. Did anyone take anything? Maybe. Cars crawl through the neighborhood at all hours.
I’ve left a car window open overnight. On occasion I forget to close the garage door. I’ll find outside doors unlocked at home. Lights get left on in the house.
We’re so used to automation that we forget what we’re supposed to do. Headlights turn on when it gets dark. A thermostat is programmed to control my air conditioning. My washer and dryer fare smart enough t figure out the needed cycle for a load. My toothbrush turns off after two minutes.
So why doesn’t my car have my back when my arms are full of groceries?
“Food distributors announce recalls. Do you have any of these products in your pantry? Details right after this.” You keep watching through two minutes of commercials, hooked by the announcer’s teaser.
The first thing you see at the restaurant is the appetizer menu. Looking down the list, you’re suddenly a lot hungrier than you were when parking the car.
As you browse the new fiction at the library, the paragraphs on the inside cover flap catch your attention. You want to find out more about a mysterious character in an intriguing situation.
A glimpse of a mom or dad gives you a clue what a young woman or man will look like in twenty years. For better or worse, that’s the DNA they’ve got to work with.
All of the above comes to mind when the apostle Paul describes the Holy Spirit as “the deposit (down payment) of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it” (Ephesians 1:13,14). The faith-working Holy Spirit in us is a reminder that there is much more to come. The world around us seems to unravel more each day. People let us down. Nothing seems to last very long. We too quickly lose the ones we love.
On the other hand, God holds the universe together. He’s faithful and eternal. Nothing can separate us from his steadfast love that never ceases. His new morning mercies make us stay tuned for more details, create a craving in us for more, lead us to read the book, and imagine what we’ll be like one day.
“I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe” (Ephesians 1:18,19).
I’m intrigued by Paul’s prayer that God would enlighten the eyes of their hearts. Hearts don’t see very well. Hearts don’t have eyes.
So I wonder, what can you see with your heart?
When my eyes see someone who looks a little rough around the edges, my heart can see with compassion. That person has a story that I haven’t yet heard.
When my eyes see someone sitting alone, my heart might see someone who needs a friend. Or at least acknowledgement that someone notices them.
When my eyes see death, my heart sees the living family and friends who will miss them.
When my eyes can’t see those who live far away, my mind remembers their faces and voices, and in my heart they seem so close.
Paul’s metaphor refers to those things that are real even if you can’t see them with your eyes. Things like hope, a future, and divine power. So much happens in this world that is completely out of our control. Yet, we have hope, because we know God has a handle on it. The future is so uncertain. Yet, we know God guarantees us a future. We might feel helpless, yet his divine power gives us strength.
Our faith vision — that is, the eyes of our hearts — is 20/20. Christ’s resurrection is a pair of glasses that helps us see a meaningful past, a wonderful future, and a hopeful today.
I didn’t hear him coming up behind me. I jumped as the e-bike sped by my right side, just a few feet away. Neither the motor nor the tires on the street made a sound. With no lights or reflectors, the rider disappeared into the predawn darkness.
It was early Sunday, so no one was on the way to work. No trash trucks or school busses making the rounds. No kids on electric scooters on the way to school. We turned the clocks ahead for daylight savings time, so even the sun wouldn’t be up for another hour. Who’s going to be out on a bike?
It could have been someone on their way home after a party that lasted till dawn. Or the guy who has to open up the fast food restaurant. Someone who’s car broke down? Worship team member on their way to warm-up? Couldn’t sleep, so they went for a ride?
I don’t get caught off guard like that very often. I like to think I’ve got good situational awareness. I usually notice what’s going on around me. My dog catches what I miss. She usually smells who’s coming before we catch sight of anyone. But this guy surprised both of us.
I don’t like to be surprised like that. But I do like the challenge of being more aware of what’s going on around me.
Waite for it... 