Ponderings

Jack — 2009-06-18T02:02:00Z

This week I'm going to the beach. There, I will reflect on life and other unfathomable things that people often reflect on. I will sit and watch as the sea sloshes upon the shore and streams up the smooth sand until its strength is gone, and it is drawn back into the abyss from which it can never fully escape.

I will watch this endless cycle with childlike wonder as though I am viewing it for the first time. Then the inevitable question will arise.

Why does the restless sea mesmerize so many of us?

Could it be its timeless nature? Its vastness? The reassuring constancy of its crashing waves?

Maybe it is all of the above, but I believe it possesses another quality. Mystery.

There is a hidden element to the ocean that spurs our imagination, calling us to reach for the unattainable and explore the infinite.

We breathe in its briny vapor and it fills us with all the possibilities of life. Though a grain of sand before it, we know we are more.

And nothing can take that away.

On Finding God's Will, Part II: A Good Thing to Do

Jack — 2009-06-08T03:16:00Z

Around 1903, William T. Hornaday, director of the New York Zoological Society, approved an order for a tree native to Asia. The tree was to be delivered to the Bronx Zoo to be displayed alongside many other specimens collected from around the world. Hornaday's goal was to raise public appreciation for natural ecology.

Six months later, a man working on the New York harbor docks unloaded a small wooden crate. Inside the crate was a four foot tall Chinese Chestnut tree.

But the alien sapling was not alone. Also inside the crate lurked a deadly blight. The primary target of the blight was the mighty sequoia of the east, the American Chestnut tree.

The American Chestnut was the king of Appalachia. The tree soared up to 120 feet high with a trunk as wide as 17 feet. Its durable wood was used to build everything from cabins to hope chests.

The tree also bore nuts that were both sweet and nutritious.  They were harvested and shipped by train to New England where chilled holiday shoppers purchased them from the flaming grills of street vendors. In 1946, after most of the trees were destroyed, Nat King Cole immortalized those innocent years with the words "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire".

Not only did American Chestnuts have practical uses, they also possessed an intrinsic beauty. Their cream-colored blossoms were called a "Summer Snow" since they appeared to blanket ridge tops with frosty white crystals when they emerged in the months of June and July.

Yet the blight was relentless.  Advancing twenty-four miles per year, it devastated trees from New York to Mississippi and beyond. By 1953 their destruction was complete. After reigning for millenniums, the American Chestnut was no more.

Though Hornaday may have unwittingly been instrumental in the demise of the American Chestnut, his noble efforts to enlighten his fellow citizens cannot be discounted. Also, to his credit, he is attributed with saving the American Bison from extinction.

Still, the glory of the American Chestnut is now just a memory due to his unfortunate error, despite the good he had intended.

Clearly, purposing good does not mean that positive results will follow, and, as in the case of the American Chestnut, the results may even be tragic.

But how do we know if we are actually achieving good?   Only God knows. The prophet Isaiah said it this way:

"As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts." Isa 55:9

It is impossible for human intellect to fathom the mind of an omniscient God. Therefore, outside what is scripturally obvious, the good path - God's will for our separate and distinct lives - is undetectable. Well, not entirely. It may be undetectable by us but not by God.

Perhaps the next verse offers some insight.

"Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." Psa 119:105.

Imagine walking down a dark country road on a moonless night with no street lamps to guide you. Your only source of lighting is a small hand-held lantern that shines just far enough ahead to illuminate the path and your next footstep.

You have no blazing torch to brighten your way. Just this humble little lantern.  Yet it is sufficient.

If we are truly on God's path, is it necessary to know our destination or even what tomorrow may hold? Trusting God should be enough.

At the age of six, I can remember walking through the heart of New York City with my parents and two young sisters. It was a big, scary place with buildings like mountains and firetrucks flying down streets like screeching dragons. I did not understand where we were going, but I felt safe because I was with my dad.

With God, our confidence in him should be even greater. The big question is: how do we know we are on heaven's path?

Some may say, if you are following God you will have peace. Yes, but sometimes the trials of life can come crashing upon you like a tsunami.

Christ agonized in the Garden of Gethsemane over his imminent death on the cross. David, as the future king of Israel, suffered great distress while being pursued by Saul and his men.

In the wilderness, David looked to the heavens and cried out.

"My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? why art thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my roaring? O my God, I cry in the day time, but thou hearest not; and in the night season, and am not silent." Psa 22:1-2

You may recognize those words. "My God, my God. . ." was also spoken by Christ in his darkest moment on the cross.

God's peace may be near, but doubts and worries may have cluttered our minds to a point where we cannot sense his presence. Like David, we may feel abandoned, but it does not necessarily mean we have gone astray or God has jumped on a plane and left the country. During these times, we are wounded and need the loving support of others in order to heal.

On the other hand, the absence of peace could mean you have wandered into a dark ally on the wrong side of town. Flirting with your boss' new secretary or lying to your husband about an expensive shopping trip will not result in a closer walk with thee. Guilt and shame can steal away our peace.

Hence, what is a red flag to one may be a needless fear for another. It depends on, among other things, the person and the circumstances.

WIth that said, I believe there exists another indicator that may shed a little more light.

Motive.

What is your true reason for choosing a certain path? Is it pride? Or fear? Maybe it's financial security. Perhaps it's just your parents' way of doing things. Or is it seemingly the easiest course to take?

Human motives (unaligned with God) do not equal spiritual direction. However, if our sole and complete desire is to follow God, we can be assured that we are at least on the right track.

As Christ did, we must declare from our innermost being: "Thy will be done."

Thy will. God's will. If our self-centered desires are sprinkled into the pot, the whole stew is spoiled. We must continually seek the invisible God for he is the source of all knowledge and inspiration.

And yes, it is a good thing to do.

Failure to Thrive

Jack — 2009-05-01T03:15:00Z

In an empty waiting room on the third floor of the Children's Hospital, Annette Hanson sat down by the window. She gazed outside at a child's swing as it swayed back and forth in the light breeze.  A tear streamed down her cheek and she wiped it away.

Eleven months earlier, John, her husband, received a promotion, a generous raise and a transfer.  So they boxed-up their lives and moved from Boise, Idaho to Greensboro, North Carolina when she was four months pregnant.

After purchasing a two-story house with a fenced backyard, the work began on the baby's room. They painted baseboards and door frames, hung some adorable pink wallpaper and installed new carpet. Then they went shopping, purchasing necessities such as a crib, a change table, and a stroller. In the evenings, they snuggled together on the sofa and dreamed.

They dreamed of her smiles, her giggles and her first toddling steps, and they teased each other about whom she would resemble most.

Finally the day arrived: Allison Faye was born. They called her Ally. The nurses raved about her as did her elated parents.

But now Annette was at the hospital. . . waiting.   Waiting for the diagnosis. And at nineteen years of age, she was facing this alone.

John had moved out last month. He said that he could not deal with it anymore.

The quarreling began when Ally was four and half months old. That was when they first noticed something was wrong. Initially, they thought she was just a small baby, but some of their neighbors began making comments.

John went from concerned to irate. Somehow he felt it was her fault but never actually spoke the words.

Annette's eyes wandered back to the window and the empty swing.

"Annette Hanson?"

Annette looked up at the nurse standing in the doorway. It was time.

"First door on your left," the nurse said. "The doctor will be in shortly."

Annette sat down in a brown leather chair facing a walnut desk. On the desk was a phone, a yellow legal pad and pictures of his family. Her eyes stung with tears, but she gripped hard on her armrests and managed to hold them back. She had to be strong for Ally. Ally needed her.

The door swung open. "Mrs. Hanson?"

"Yes."

Doctor Bentley patted her shoulder as he passed her. "It's good to see you again." He sat down behind his desk. "Sorry about all the remodeling going on around here. They should be done in a couple of weeks." After rummaging through his top drawer, he brought out a pen. "Ah, here it is. So, how have you've been."

Annette scratched her arm. This was no time for small talk. "Doctor, I have to know. What's wrong with my baby?"

Doctor Bentley leaned back in his chair as his smile faded. "The tests have all come back negative, but I have some more questions about you and Ally."

Dear God, he thinks this is her fault, just like John did. Fear swept over her. In a week Child Services would be pounding on her door demanding that she give them Ally.

Annette bent over and buried her face in her hands. "But she's all I have." The tears began to flow but this time she had no strength to stop them.

"There's no need to worry," Doctor Bentley said. "Some babies are just this way."

After drying her eyes, they began discussing Ally's condition. Doctor Bentley pointed out that Ally's excessive crying, reluctance to take her bottle and spitting up suggested that she had GERD, which is a reflux disease. He gave her a prescription and some much needed advice.

After a few weeks of treatment, Ally gained two pounds. When Annette called John and gave him the news, they talked and laughed for the next three hours.  It was a happy day. For all of them.

                                                                        ******

Failure to Thrive is an illness affecting infants due to an insufficient supply or malabsorption of nutrients. With this condition physical growth is stunted.

Naturally, a growth deficiency is reason for great concern and, unlike Ally, can be caused by more serious medical conditions.

Yet, in the spiritual realm, this condition is often ignored and even encouraged. Today, many of us unknowingly drink milk (or even sugar water) from sippy cups when we could be feasting on the delicious cuisine created in God's kitchen.

So how do we recognize if we are still on a fluids-only diet?

Paul gave us a clue in First Corinthians.

"I, brethren, could not speak to you as to spiritual people but as to carnal, as to babes in Christ. I fed you with milk and not with solid food; for until now you were not able to receive it, and even now you are still not able; for you are still carnal. For where there are envy, strife, and divisions among you, are you not carnal and behaving like mere men?" 1 Corinthians 3:1-2

Here Paul writes that Christians who consume solid food are spiritual and all others are not - at least not yet. We can guess that the milk is the basics (salvation, baptism, praying, moral living, etc.), but this text does not explain what the solid food or meat is.

Fortunately, there exists another passage to enlighten us.

After Jesus speaks with the woman at the well, his disciples return and begin pleading with him.

"In the meanwhile his disciples prayed him, saying, Master, eat. But he said unto them, I have meat to eat that ye know not of. Therefore said the disciples one to another, Hath any man brought him ought to eat? Jesus saith unto them, My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to finish his work." John 4:32-34

From these verses, we can derive the formula.    Spiritual Meat = Do the will of God and finish his work.

The verse below confirms that meat belongs to mature individuals and not infants.

"But strong meat belongeth to them that are of full age,even those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil." Heb 5:14

This verse states that a spiritually mature person is able to discern both good (God's will) and evil (anything that is not God's will).

Paul desired to teach the Corinthians about hearing God's voice and obeying his will. Like natural infants, babes in Christ must first understand the concept of language, that is spiritual language. Next, they must learn to respond to God's words with an obedient heart. And finally, they must realize that they have an important work to do. which must be completed.

But it is not our work, but, rather, it is the Father's work. We are merely granted the honor to participate in his masterful plan.

Yet, if we are infants or inflicted with Ally's condition, we can do little for God.

Is your spiritual growth stunted? If so, you may have Failure to Thrive. And like Annette, the Father is deeply concerned about you and longs to help. But we must also do our part.

Let us toss away our sippy cups and learn to recognize God's voice, and, with humble hearts, obey his commandments.

Then we can pull up our chairs to his table and unroll our napkins. Dinner is served.

Places Where I Do Not Know

Jack — 2009-04-05T22:10:00Z

We walk upon green strewn hills
beneath a crystal blue so still
The shepherd calls and we must go
To places where we do not know

We pass an elm tree spreading wide
And then a barn that’s dark inside
But the shepherd calls and we must go
To places where we do not know

Through dales lined with trickling streams
I cross while filled with distant dreams
But the shepherd calls and I must go
To places where I do not know

I walk a little slower still
So I can sniff some daffodils
But the shepherd calls and I must go
To places where I do not know

Then a hawk comes sweeping by
I stop to watch him soaring high
The others pass me one by one
I look behind and there are none

I follow those who followed me
The shepherd though I cannot see
I know not why they're trav'ling now
So I will stop and rest awhile

Storm clouds form; the thunder rolls
Now I need somewhere to go
I see a barn that’s dark inside
Perhaps a place where I can hide

In the barn I find some hay
A warm, safe place for me to stay
I’ll sleep until the morning sun
While I dream of fields to run

I think about the shepherd too
Yet over me I need no rule
I can find my way now
Then I hear a fearsome growl

On Finding God's Will, Part I: The Silver Arrow

Jack — 2009-03-28T15:25:00Z

Gray clouds filled the sky as the Sheriff trudged up the dusty road back to Nottingham Castle. The notorious Saxon, Robin Hood, had captured him and held him for three days. Now he was free but not before relinquishing his horse and five pounds of gold.

Many times the Sheriff had tried to apprehend the outlaw but had been foiled on every attempt. He needed another plan. Marching into Sherwood Forest with a hundred Norman knights was not the answer. Robin would ambush them, escape into one of his tunnels or ride away from danger.

No, there had to be another way. What if. . . What if he somehow made Robin come to him? Bait was what he needed. But what kind of bait?

Robin often boasted that he had disguised himself and slipped into Nottingham Castle on several occasions. Perhaps they could entice him with a contest of marksmanship. Robin's skill with the bow was legendary, at least among the commoners.

Later, after speaking with the Prince, his Highness decided to hold a contest. The prize would be a silver arrow and the title: Greatest Marksman in Nottingham. Both men agreed that Robin could not resist the challenge.

And they were right.

The sun beamed down through a clear sky on the day of the competition. Dressed as peasants, Robin and a few of his merry men easily melded into a contentious gathering of Normans and Saxons.

Robin entered the contest and quietly awaited his turn. Guessing that the Sheriff had set a trap, Robin instructed Little John to spread the word that he, the humble peasant, was not only a skilled archer but a loyal Saxon as well.

The Sheriff and his men held their peace until the contest came down to the final two: Robin Hood and a Norman knight. Robin hit the bullseye on his first try but missed on the second. On his third attempt, he again pierced the bullseye and won the competition.

By then the Prince and Sheriff were certain that Nottingham's champion was the scoundrel of Sherwood Forest.  After awarding Robin the silver arrow, the Prince ordered his knights to seize him.

But Robin stepped back into a group of celebrating Saxons who quickly hoisted him on their shoulders and carried him away.  Minutes later, Robin and his men escaped unharmed.

                                                                   ********

You may be wondering, what does Robin Hood and an archery match have to do with God's will?

In the New Testament the Greek word used for Sin is Hamartao, which means to miss the mark. Missing the mark (or bullseye) is, of course, an archery term.

Sin not only encompasses moral depravity but it denotes any deviation from God's will, even by the slightest amount.  A bowman whose aim is off by only by an inch or two may miss the entire target. In archery, precision is everything.

Successfully hitting the bullseye signifies the opposite of sin, that is obedience to divine will. Similar to the Nottingham contest, an accurate shot can lead to victory over those forces warring against heaven's purpose.

In the Old Testament, God's will was summed up in the Mosaic Law. In the New Testament, Jesus unveiled that he was the fulfillment of the Law.

It certainly makes sense that Christ is the embodiment of God's will and we must look to him alone for guidance.

Though true, this statement is more a platitude than tangible advice, and, regrettably, this is where some teachers of the Gospel close their Bible and signal for the worship team to begin their song.

But let us dig a little deeper.

Jeremiah prophesied in Jer 31:34: "After those days, saith the LORD, I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people."

So where is God's will found? In our hearts if, indeed, Christ is dwelling there.

But how can we hit the mark every time?

We can't. Even the master of all bowmen, Robin Hood, missed the bullseye on his second attempt.

However, if we allow God to stand behind us and direct our arrow, we cannot miss.  Only then will we know victory.

<>God's will is one day at a time<>

A Cleft in the Rock

Jack — 2009-03-08T22:00:00Z

"Rock of ages cleft for me
Let me hide myself in thee. . ."

And so begins a hymn written by Augustus Montague Toplady in the latter half of the eighteenth century.

The legend surrounding this hymn involves a thunderstorm and a limestone formation named Burrington Combe located near the village of Burrington in North Somerset England. This towering limestone formation has openings at its base which allow entrance into several caves.

It is said that Augustus was traveling near Burrington Combe when a fierce thunderstorm arose. Familiar with the area, Augustus fled to a cave and remained there until the storm had passed. This incident presumably became the inspiration for his hymn.

Though it is arguable that this legend occurred as stated above, it is quite possible that Burrington Combe was in Augustus' mind when he penned the words "Rock of ages cleft for me". Whatever the circumstances of its origin, there is no doubt the hymn is one of the most beloved of all time.

So what is the source of its popularity?

The words bring forth an image of an utterly helpless person at the mercy of the Lord.  Possibly some tragedy or life threatening event had brought him to a lowly state.

Tragedies were common in Augustus' time. One-third to one-half of all children died before the age of sixteen. For many families, the Reaper was ever crouching at their door.

Sorrow of this magnitude tends to purge pride and arrogance from one's mindset. Understandably in the 1700's, a humble nature was considered a virtue. Conversely, in our day, it is not modesty but self sufficiency which is highly esteemed. As such, many of us aspire for financial independence and the power of choice that it brings.

But is this independence just an illusion?  Take a stroll through a graveyard and you will not hear boastful chatter but only deep silence. History also speaks of our fragility through the millions of lives lost in the first and second world wars in addition to deadly earthquakes, volcanoes and tidal waves.

Yet some assert that hardships such as these will not befall Christians living in this country.  Don't worry, they say. God wants us all to be happy. So let's revel in our prosperous lifestyles until we are whisked away from danger.

But are we immune to adversity unlike the Europeans, Asians, and Africans?   Maybe a better question is: Are we dearer to God than those early saints who were burned, crucified and stoned to death?

One day we may face our storm with its fearsome lightening and thunder.  Then we will need a safe place, a cleft in the rock.

Let us seek it while it is yet day.

<>God's will is one day at a time<>

Dying for Brick and Mortar

Jack — 2009-03-04T03:56:00Z

Recently I read where archaeologists have discovered the oldest known building constructed specifically for Christian worship. The structure is located in the Jordanian Red Sea port of Aqaba and dates back to the third or fourth century.

Today, an Internet search of the words "Church Building" will result in about 1,860,000 hits while "Church Architects" generates over 11,000 hits. It would seem that the house of worship construction business is thriving, at least in the U.S.

Interesting though, in the New Testament there is no reference to lavishly adorned temples when it references the Church. The word "Church" was used exclusively to denote the followers of Christ. Understandably, to early Christians the phrase "Going to Church" would have been senseless.

With little money, minimal education and no buildings, those early Christians persevered, proclaiming the good news in the face of extreme persecution. Their numbers increased exponentially across hundreds of square miles when the swiftest mode of land travel was a four-mile-per-hour horse. Whatever their methods, they were certainly a blazing success.

But that was then.

Now with all the advantages of our modern society, including large screen monitors and impressive audio systems, we should be light years ahead of our primitive Christian forefathers.

It makes sense. Or does it?

With our country sinking into the dark pit of secularism and all other kinds of isms, can we really say we're more adept at spreading the good news?

Well, at least we can point to some key advancements in worship facilities and programming.

Yes indeed, times have changed.

In this day, rarely does the word "Church" bring forth an image of actual people, but, rather, a building with a steeple or, in the case of a mega Church, acres of buildings.

So when did the word "Church" come to mean a manmade structure? Based on the evidence, possibly sometime in the third or fourth century. By then Christianity had already spread across the vast Roman Empire without the benefit of gifted architects and burly guys donning hardhats.

Some may say, "What's the big deal? This isn't a problem." And maybe they're right.

Then again, if a problem exists, it could be in our collective focus on ourselves and our achievements rather than God. And perhaps a symptom of our re-directed focus lies in what we call our worship buildings, which (in many cases) consist of mere brick and mortar.

<>God's will is one day at a time<>

The Mona Lisa and the Deserted Isle

Jack — 2009-03-01T22:12:00Z

In 1503 Leonardo da Vinci was commissioned to paint what is now known as the Mona Lisa. He worked on the painting for up to seven years and finished it shortly before his death in 1519.

What makes this painting so special? Some may say that da Vinci captured the feminine mystique through her equivocal half smile.

Whatever the reason for its fame, no one can argue against its uniqueness.

Though many reproductions of this painting have been made, the canvas housed in the prestigous Louvre Museum in Paris France is the undisputed original.

The Mona Lisa is among the world's most recognizable works of art, but let us suppose there is someone who has never heard of the Mona Lisa or any other notable painting for that matter. This man has had the misfortune of growing up on a deserted island without the benefit of an education in the fine arts.

Then, through some unearthly means, he awakes one morning and finds the original Mona Lisa leaning against a palm tree. After overcoming his surprise at its sudden appearance, he begins to reflect on the painting itself. The artist had created a rather nice portrayal of a sitting woman, and the work is obviously very old. After studying it a while longer, he develops a healthy admiration for da Vinci's creation.

But as time passes, his appreciation for the painting erodes until he begins to view it as dull and ordinary. Then he thinks: it's not the original painting anyway or else why would it be here on this island with me. It's just a cheap copy. At best, it belongs in the back aisle of some outlet store. A few months later, he considers casting the whole thing, smirking woman and all, into the ocean.

So what changed?

The uniqueness of the Mona Lisa was lost because after seeing and touching it day after day, to him, it became commonplace. Familiarity blurred his vision until he could no longer see the painting's grandeur.

Like our stranded island dweller, could we be gazing upon a masterpiece everyday and concluding that it is also unexceptional and commonplace?

Perhaps.

The next time you view an image of our turquoise planet wrapped in swirls of white clouds consider the Mona Lisa. It may just be the only one of its kind.

<>God's will is one day at a time<>

The One Less Traveled

Jack — 2009-03-01T21:55:00Z

In 1916 renowned American poet Robert Frost published a poem he titled The Road Not Taken.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Though you might not have read the entire text, at least take a glance at the last three lines. When confronted with a choice of two diverging roads, the narrator chose the one less traveled. Here we may smile and conclude that this person was couragous and imaginative for making such a decision.

Yet the title references the road the narrator did not choose. Also, the words seem laden with regret rather than contentment. The last line, "And that has made all the difference", is neutral. By that I mean the narrator's selection could have resulted in either a positive or negative outcome.

Though the poem was penned nearly a century ago, I believe most would recognize some of the words. The reason for this may be in the empathy we feel for the author's unspoken dilemma.

In our own lives, we may lament over a career choice, the one who got away and so on. As a young person, we may think that we will have another chance to get it right, but not necessarily so. Like the author said: "Yet knowing how way leads to way, I doubted if I should ever come back." In other words, he is faced with a decision that he will likely live with it for the remainder of his days. He can never go back in time and space and make a different one.

What we may not realize is that important decisions can come on a daily basis. Even a seemingly small decision can have eternal consequences for better or worse.

It is a sobering truth, which underscores the importance of our choices and our need for judicious guidance. If we allow God to order our steps, we can be sure that through us He will make all the difference.

<>God's will is one day at a time<>

Hat Tippers

Jack — 2009-03-01T21:41:00Z

I love old movies, especially movies of the pre-sixties era. My favorite actor of that time period has to be Jimmy Stewart. With masterful skill, Stewart protrayed the everyday man who faced extraordinary obstacles. Who can forget George Bailey's frantic search for his family in It's a Wonderful Life?

Other than those earlier films being void of color, a younger viewer may notice that Jimmy Stewart and his fellow actors wore hats. In those days, a man would feel poorly dressed if he left home without one.

A bearer of such headgear would often greet people by holding its brim and lifting or tilting the hat slightly off his head. This form of salutation is known as "tipping your hat".

This phrase reminded me of a popular country song, titled Keeper of the Stars. In the song is a line: "I tip my hat to the keeper of the stars", which, of course, references God as the orchestrator of the cosmos.

Naturally, we welcome any song where God is mentioned in a positive light, but is there a potential dark side to all this hat tipping?

If we hat tip God, it suggests that we are at least not an atheist, though it reveals little about our spirituality. It seems hat tipping can be like brick facade on a new house. It looks real but it's not.

With that said, politicians are probably the most prolific hat tippers there are. During the inauguration of our latest president, the word, "God", was sprinkled into various speeches like pepper in a pot of chili.

Some celebrities also tend to be hat tippers and, like the politicians, I cannot gauge the degree of their sincerity. Yet, I have the feeling that, at least for some, hat tipping is the extent of their acquaintance with God. If true, it is a sad truth indeed.

Still more troubling, could the practice of hat tipping also have slipped into the assembly of believers? Have we've heard sermons littered with "I think", "I did" and "I'm going to do" with an occassional hat tip to God to maintain a proper perspective? If so, this truth is even sadder.

Yes, hat tipping is acknowledging another person, but let us not forget that acknowledgement is not servitude and empty words are merely wisps of nothing.

<>God's will is one day at a time<>