Why grocery stores hate men

February 14, 2013December 8, 2017 rodarters

Last night I went to the local grocery store for a few staple items, things like milk, bread & Doritos. It took me 3 hours.

Needless to say, I really dislike trips to the grocery store. I never need many items and it takes me about as long to shop for those items as it does for me to re-paint the house.

As I wander around in the grocery store’s version of purgatory, I have come to the realization that this place was not built for men. Here are a few reasons why:

The layout. Most grocery stores have you walking right from the parking lot into the produce section. Shocking as this may be, men do not prefer to pick up their brocoli first. Or ever. Men want soda, chips, beer, and pizza. If grocery stores really wanted men to be there, they would put our items first, not make us wander around the labyrinth of aisles looking for them.
The aisles. When women were creating grocery stores, who decided what items would be grouped in a particular aisle? Who decided the order the aisles would be in? Why do they not have a map at the front door that makes everything more clear? (For the record, men like maps – we just don’t want to have to ask someone for help reading one.) Instead, I walk in with a small list of things to get and the next 3 hours are a scavenger hunt. Where are the hot dogs? Why are the buns half a mile away from them? If you could watch me on film, you would see that I am in every aisle about 4 times – carefully looking up and down every part of it – looking for my item, otherwise known as Waldo.
The shopping cart. There is absolutely no way to push a shopping cart around and retain any level of cool. Given that 9 out of 10 shopping carts have a rogue wheel that cause them to swerve in the aisle, it is an impossible machine to tame. Besides, it is a well-known fact that men like to ride on things, not push them around. The ride-on mower is “exhibit A” for this argument. If a woman ever invents a ride-on shopping cart (or vacuum cleaner), men would instantly be interested in taking over these duties. Just a suggestion.
Too many things to kill. Since caveman times, men were known as hunters and women were gatherers. Following our instincts, most men and women treat all forms of shopping the same way. Men enter, focus on the prey, kill and leave with it in hand. By contrast, women enter, look at everything, touch everything, and come home with 37 bags of groceries. For a man to hunt one item at a store is easy. They are good at that. But give a man a list of 10 items and 4 will be the wrong size, 3 will be the wrong brand and the other 6 will be stuff he wanted, not on the list. Frankly, it’s unrealistic for men to remember long orders like, “Pick up chips, soda, beer, milk, bread, chicken, pizza, napkins, sugar, cheese, etc.” All we hear is “blah, blah, chips, soda, beer, blah, blah, blah, pizza, words, words, words, etc.”
The store temperature. It could be the dead of winter in Alaska. You could be in the middle of Hell in the middle of July. It doesn’t matter – the grocery store temperature will feel like 30 below zero. I am always freezing when I am in there. How can I expect to make a decision on what can of tuna fish to buy when my teeth are chattering? How can I possibly focus on my coupon savings when I’m trying to cuddle with the man in the same aisle for survival? It’s well documented, the longer you stay in a store – the more you will buy. If they want men to stay in the store longer, they need to raise the temperature to at least the low teens or provide NorthFace thermal underwear and a ski mask.
The lack of other men. As you might expect, 90% of the shoppers are female. Inevitably, I will walk down an aisle and see an experienced shopper there. This shopper, always a woman, has an intimidating amount of groceries in her cart. As I look at her pile of groceries, I can’t help but wonder how long she has been here. Given that it takes me 3 hours to pick up six items, she has to have been here for weeks. I wonder if her kids miss her. Or how hungry her husband must be. On the rare occasion that I do see another man, I usually give him a knowing nod that is the equivalent of “I got your back.” It’s like he’s my battle buddy. Except we are not in battle and he’s not my buddy. Other than that, it’s just like that.
The lack of help. Doesn’t anyone notice that I’ve been in the store for 3 hours? Isn’t someone watching the security camera wondering why I’ve been circling Aisle 3 for the last 45 minutes? Aren’t there supposed to be employees that are available to help those with a confused look on their face? And why do the experienced shoppers (aka women) watch us men helplessly wander instead of trying to assist? If the roles were reversed (let’s say at Lowes) both men and store employees would go out of their way to help our confused/lost female counterparts. When I finally reach the check out counter, (disheveled and exhausted) and the lady asks, “Did you find everything ok?” – I just want to cry.
The abundance of options. Why are there so many choices out there? How many different brands of cat food companies are there? How many different flavors of cat food does a cat really need? Before grocery stores were invented, cats ate mice. Now, cats have more options than most high school cafeterias. Fortunately, I don’t buy cat food but the human food choices are no easier. How can I possibly know what to buy with all of those options? Am I shopping price alone or do I need to look for sodium percentages? What about calories? And how much saturated fat is there? (Can there be a more disgusting combination of words than “saturated fat?”) Shopping time would be reduced in half if they just had two options per food item. Big or small. Cheap or fancy. Healthy or tasty. I feel like using a lifeline to call a nutritionist just to buy a box of cereal. It’s utterly exhausting.
Self-check out. Self check-out is a brilliant concept. Instead of standing in a 45 minute line, the self-check out option makes you feel like you control your destiny… or at least have some control over your schedule. But is it really any quicker? For starters, I can never seem to find the bar code for the machine to read. Then, I’ll want to scan bananas, except there is no bar code for them so you have to weigh them. Apparently, the scale takes a few hours to stop shaking from the last piece of fruit that was on it. Of course, as soon as I begin my self-check out experience, a line immediately forms behind me. I now feel pressure to scan quicker, bag quicker, pay quicker. Paying quicker is never an option though and whatever you do, never pay with cash. You will stand there forever trying to get the machine to accept your wrinkly bill as if you are presenting a peace-offering to an Egyptian god. The self-check out money god seems to prefer plastic.

If loneliness doesn’t drive single men into a relationship, the grocery store certainly will. No man in his right mind can enjoy this experience on their own. Other than the sample food kiosks where kind older people prepare food and let you sample it, there is little appeal to the grocery store for men.

Call me when the ride-on grocery cart is invented. Until then, I’m going to pray that God sends me a bird to feed me as He did the prophet Elijah. Now THAT is a great way to get your food!

“Then the word of the Lord came to Elijah: Leave here, turn eastward and hide in the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan. You will drink from the brook, and I have directed the ravens to supply you with food there.So he did what the Lord had told him. He went to the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan, and stayed there. The ravens brought him bread and meat in the morning and bread and meat in the evening, and he drank from the brook.” (I Kings 17:2-6)

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Bingo the Monkey – a new children’s book

February 8, 2013May 23, 2015 rodarters

Every week I drive past my local Barnes & Nobles located located down the street from my house. Every time I drive by, my seven-year old expresses an interest to go in. Today, we carved out some time to see what was new. Upon entering the store, I was immediately escorted into the children’s section by my little eager reader. He loves going there. As we walked through the aisles in the children’s section, his eye went to several books he was quite familiar with. I had read them to him dozens of times during his most formative years.

Books like:

“The Going To Bed Book” by Sandra Boynton.
“Good Night, Gorilla” by Peggy Rathmann.
“The Giving Tree” by Shel Silverstein.
“The Very Hungry Caterpillar” by Eric Carle.
“If You Give A Mouse A Cookie” by Laura Joffe Numeroff.

The list goes on and on. He grabbed every one with familiar excitement as he exclaimed things like, “I remember this one!” or “Dad, we have this one at home!”

My bedtime routine with my son, Andrew - pictured here at age 3. — My bedtime routine with my son, Andrew – pictured here at age 3.

Instantly, we were transported back in time, on the bed of nostalgia, him snuggled in front of me, as I read that evenings bed time story.

Bedtime stories are a favorite past-time for every parent and child. Not only does it provide the foundation for reading and lay the cornerstone of learning, it’s a wonderfully bonding exercise between parent and child. I miss those days. My older children (teenagers) just don’t sit on my lap quite as much anymore. The books they read don’t have pictures in them either. And none of them rhyme. Also, their books are called videos.

How excited I was to learn of a new book about to hit the market. The book has everything that makes a children’s book a success: A cute character. An interesting story line that children can relate to. A great moral lesson. Suspense. Engaging illustrations. It even rhymes like a Dr. Seuss book.

Unlike every other book I have ever read with my children, this one is intensely personal for me. Whereas every other book I have read I bought at the store, this one was sent to me directly by the author. Whereas the other books were read after they were published, I read this one beforehand. Whereas other books were read after dozens of others recommended them to me, this one I got to read before the masses. Such is the advantage when the author of the next great children’s book happens to be your brother.

I thought I would take this opportunity to introduce my loyal readers to this great book and share how you can get a copy of it. For those of you who would like to purchase it, my brother (Matt) has graciously offered to give my global audience a discount. More details on that to come.

The following link will provide more information about the book, my brother and what it is about. Also an artist, the book is fully illustrated by Matt and includes a video trailer (created by my sister) for you to see. He has decided to utilize the help of a creative website to help him launch it. Just 24 hours in, it has already proven to be a good decision.

Matt also created a Facebook page for this book and welcomes more people to “like” it. The link to that page is here: https://www.facebook.com/#!/BingoTheMonkey

If you still read to your children, consider this book for your personal library. If you have small children in your life (Nieces, nephews, cousins, siblings, grandchildren) consider this for their next birthday. If you are affiliated with an elementary school, perhaps your school library would like to put this on their shelf? The story of Bingo the Monkey has a timeless message that both kids and parents will love!

Regardless, keep reading to your children. The lessons they learn from the pages of these books stay with them for life and the memories stay with you forever, long after they’ve left your lap.

A real man: What women want to find and boys want to be.

February 4, 2013May 23, 2015 rodarters

Every boy growing up learns how to be a man from one of three places;

his own father’s example (good or bad),
other men he knows & sees and
from the constant cultural impressions on his impressionable life.

If a boy grows up with an absentee or abusive father, his view of manhood can be similarly shaped. If a boy has access to Uncles or coaches or teachers that are caring, he is taught that men should act likewise. If he is heavily influenced by Hollywood’s heroes, a small lad might think that womanizing or fighting or breaking the law is what a real man does. Even men on powerful platforms (politicians, athletes, musicians) can model what men are supposed to say or do.

By the time a boy is in his teens, the messages are mixed and can be quite confusing. From their perspective – “Dad says one thing, Uncle Ricky says another and my favorite athlete handles situations completely different from my teacher. Do real men lie or tell the truth? Do they cheat or are they supposed to be faithful? Do they work hard or are they lazy? Are they tough or are they allowed to cry?” These thoughts bounce around a boy’s brain as he tries to figure out what a real man is supposed to look like. By the time a boy is ten, he has seen the full range of male behavior; the good the bad and the ugly – all from adults who are supposed to know better.

But, what is a real man? What does he look like? It’s a question that begs an answer. It’s an answer that every boy yearns to learn. And it’s a question whose answer, on a good day, feels largely subjective.

From the dozen of men in my life that have left an imprint on my image of manhood (good and bad), I have gathered that a “real man” has the following attributes. Granted, very few men possess all the traits listed below at the same time. Having said that, every man should die trying, not only for their own benefit but because somewhere out there a little boy is looking up to them wondering if they are a real man too.

I have the scary privilege of raising two boys in this testosterone deficient world. Though I am not their only male example (Thank God!), I am a primary one and much of what they glean about manhood will come from my playbook. Like every man on the planet, my boys have seen both a good and bad example from my life. The older I get, the more committed I become to improving that example. As I feel their little eyes on me, I am trying to be more consistent with the message I communicate to them. Trying to get my life to match my lips.

This sculpture masterpiece of the Renaissance was created by the Italian artist Michelangelo. The statue represents the Biblical hero David and took him over 2 years to complete.

In 1464 an artist by the name of Agostino was commissioned to create a statue of the biblical king, David. A block of marble was provided and Agostino chiseled the legs, feet & torso. For reasons unknown, the project was halted and the half-finished sculpture sat untouched, exposed to the elements for the next 35 years. In 1501, another artist was given the contract to continue the work. In the early hours of September 13th, a twenty-six year old artist named Michelangelo began to chisel an enormous clump of rock. Over the next two years, Michelangelo worked diligently and finally completed one of the greatest pieces of art the world has ever known.

As every woman will attest, every man begins like that clump of stone. Some of us stay like that the rest of our lives. Others have some work done on them (ex. legs, feet and torso) and then sit dormant for years. Some of us, after an extended season of inactivity, will have someone enter our lives and (like Michelangelo) begin to sculpt the crude marble into a work of art. The point is, we are all a work in progress. Some are further along than others but all of us need the touch of a divine artist to finish the commissioned work. By God’s grace, even I will one day become the man He’s calling me to be. By God’s grace, the men in your life will too. Until then, we all need more time with the Artist and His chisel.

What does a real man look like? This list is a good start.

A real man keeps his word, even when it hurts.
A real man chooses his words carefully.
A real man builds up others.
A real man always tells the truth.
A real man controls his tongue.
A real man encourages others.
A real man faces his problems.
A real man owns up to his mistakes.
A real man can admit his wrongs.
A real man faces consequences.
A real man can ask for forgiveness when he is wrong.
A real man can confront wrong.
A real man can show his emotions and share his feelings.
A real man is patient with others.
A real man is not easily offended.
A real man can handle criticism.
A real man treats others with respect, especially his elders, women, children and animals.
A real man never hits a woman.
A real man always looks out for the interest of others.
A real man sacrifices for those he loves.
A real man protects his family.
A real man loves God.
A real man honors his parents.
A real man loves his wife.
A real man controls his temper.
A real man loves his children and is an active Dad.
A real man is a servant leader.
A real man provides for his family.
A real man takes care of his house.
A real man is a good steward of what has been given to him.
A real man is a model citizen.
A real man is honest.
A real man leads by example.
A real man has a strong work ethic.
A real man is responsible & dependable.
A real man never gives up.
A real man is faithful.
A real man always does the right thing.
A real man is a man of character and integrity.
A real man never runs from problems.
A real man is confident enough to wear pink.
A real man does not do drugs.
A real man does not abuse people or substances.
A real man can be trusted.
A real man is selfless.
A real man is under authority and respects authority.

Know any real men in your life? Becoming one is more caught than taught. Send them this link and thank them for their example. Better yet, thank the artists that helped them get there.

“As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” (Proverbs 27:17)
“Be on the alert, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love.” (I Corinthians 16:13-14)
“He has told you, O man, what is good; And what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8)

Trusting a total stranger… totally

February 2, 2013May 23, 2015 rodarters

A few years ago, for my Mom’s 50th birthday, I took her to a musical concert in center city Philadelphia. If you know downtown Philadelphia, it is a maze of one way streets. It didn’t take me long to become “misplaced” in this big city at night. I seemed to be driving in circles and struggled to find our destination.

My Mom, being a natural born worrier, was convinced we were going to get carjacked. Considering the murder rate in the “City of Brotherly Love”, car jacking would have been welcomed. The only thing worse than being carjacked at night in Philadelphia is being carjacked at night in Philadelphia with your Mother. That’s just embarrassing. At any rate, we were sufficiently lost, running late and needed to find our way to the concert. Since this was before the days of GPS and smart phone navigation apps, all I had was a AAA fold out map and my concerned mother as the co-pilot. Being that my Mom had never driven in Philadelphia or used maps or enjoyed driving at night or enjoyed being in the most dangerous section of a dangerous city, she was not much help in the fetal position – hyperventilating on the floor of the car. Time was running out and I knew I had to do something that would go against every male fiber in my being – ask for directions.

Being evening, my options were limited. I could either ask the group of men talking in the middle of the street or the lovely young lady on the opposite street corner. My Mom was convinced the group of men were part of a gang and interested in taking our car. Being her birthday, I obliged her fears and headed towards the woman. As I slowed down, she approached my car with a strange familiarity. Immediately, I realized two things. First, this was no ordinary woman. By all appearances, she was an employee in the world’s oldest profession. Secondly, she knew the city streets well.

My Mom was aghast.
Mom: “You can’t stop here. You can’t talk to her! Do you know what she does for a living?”
Me: “Yes, I know EXACTLY what she does for a living and no one knows these streets better than her.”

After talking to my female GPS friend, I got the directions and we were on our way.

At some point in time, we have all been in foreign cities (or cities foreign to us) and have gotten lost. Being lost on unfamiliar turf, sometimes the only way to our destination is to ask a local. After all, no one knows the area better. We approach with humility, ask for directions and do exactly as they say, particularly if they seem confident in their response.

But, how do we know they are really a local? How do we know they are telling the truth? How do we know the people we ask really know where we are trying to go?

Occasionally, while in a foreign city, another traveler will approach me (assuming I am a local) and ask me for directions. To be honest, before I tell them I am from out of town as well, I have a very sinister thought. Having no idea where they want to go, there is a tiny evil twin inside of me that wants to start giving very specific, clear directions and see if they believe me.

“Oh sure. I know exactly where you need to go. You want to take a right at the light. Turn left onto Main Street. Go past the bank and take another right at the school. Go 1.3 miles and your destination is on the left.”

For all they know, I could be sending them in the opposite direction or directly to the local graveyard. For all I know, I may have just given them directions into a dangerous, car-jacking part of town.

Likewise, we have all flown in an airplane. We plan our trip, buy our ticket, get to our gate, board our plane and walk right by the cockpit without knowing the pilot’s name, his credentials or if he is even sober. How do we know he is really a pilot? Did he graduate from airline pilot school with straight A’s or is this guy the class clown who barely passed? Does he even know where he is going?

The girl giving directions. The man flying our plane. The doctor in surgery. The local mechanic. Complete strangers to us and we trust them. We trust them implicitly, without hesitation.

If we can trust these people with directions or even our very lives, why do we struggle trusting the God of creation?

God has never forgotten to rise the sun. He has never been late on a sunset. He keeps the stars in place and causes planets to orbit without collision. He provides rain for the grass blade and food for the ant. He knows when a sparrow falls to the ground and He’s counted the number of hairs on your head. He gives what is good to those who ask Him and through “His divine power has granted to us everything pertaining to life and godliness” (2 Peter 1:3). If that were not enough, He loves us more than we can even love ourselves. So much, that He died in our place so that we can live in His.

Next time you ask for directions, be reminded of who you are trusting. Next time you board a plane, remember that your life is in the hands of a total stranger. They don’t know your name. They don’t care about your day. But you trust them without blinking. A total stranger. We trust an unknown stranger before we trust the God who knows us. The truth is, God is a stranger to those who do not trust Him.

Is He a stranger to you?

“And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is and that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him.” (Hebrews 11:6)

No Pain, No Gain

February 1, 2013 rodarters

A few years ago I was part of a small group discussion. Around the room were 12 people, all from my church, ranging in age from late 20’s to mid 60’s. Although I had a friendship with every person present, most in the room did not know each other. Because of this, I asked each person to introduce themselves and share how they became a Christian, the common denominator of our lives. Hearing how people come to faith in Christ is always an interesting exercise.

As the folks went around the room, a common theme emerged.

One came to Christ when her 19-year-old son was killed in an automobile “wreck”. She went on to tell us how there are no “accidents” in God’s world.
One became a Christian via the example & death of his Grandmother.
One believed after watching her uncle die of cancer.
Another came to faith after losing his family because of his successful business and long hours away from home.
Another came to Christ because of a divorce.
A broken engagement devastated another into the arms of God.
As for me, my father’s sudden death (when I was 5) was instrumental in helping me recognize my need for God.

As they shared their story, I was amazed at the number of people who came to God because of a tragedy or loss. It reminded me of the famous quote credited to C.S. Lewis, “God whispers in our pleasure but shouts in our pain.” Apparently, we listen more clearly when pain is involved.

As I look through the Scriptures, I see a similar pattern.

The Apostle Paul came to Christ after being blind for 3 days (Acts 9).
King Nebuchadnezzar repented after being humiliated by God in front of his nation (Daniel 3).
The prophet Jonah finally obeyed God’s voice after experiencing three life-threatening days in the belly of a fish. (Jonah 3)
The thief on the cross gave his life to Christ while he was being executed (Luke 23).
The woman at the well came to Christ after her embarrassing lifestyle was revealed (John 4).
Even Pharaoh bent his knee to God (although briefly) when he lost his firstborn son (Exodus 11).

None of the people listed above would have submitted to God without some sort of painful experience.

Do not underestimate the power of pain. Though we would not naturally choose the painful path, oftentimes it is the only way some are aware of God’s presence. The thing we try to avoid the most seems to be the thing God uses most often to draw our attention to Him.

We tend to view pain as bad because it hurts but God seems to view pain as beneficial because of what it produces in our lives. At first glance, one might be tempted to view God as mean or unloving or even cruel for causing or allowing pain in our lives. But think for a moment about the positive aspects of pain:

Without pain, you would not know you have a splinter that could cause a life-threatening infection.
Without pain, you would not be able to tell you were on fire – permanently damaging your skin.
Without pain, you would not realize your urgent need to see a doctor.
Without pain, you would not realize your current behavior is hurting those around you.
Without pain, you would not fully appreciate what it means to feel good.

The knowledge and experience of pain not only helps prolong your life but it also helps you appreciate (more fully) the presence of pleasure. Sunny days are more appreciated after a week of rain. We tend to be more grateful for the warmth of Spring because it follows a cold Winter. As a friend recently reminded me, “You have to put up with rain if you want a rainbow.”

For those who have ever lifted weights, you know what I’m talking about. When weight lifting, it is only when your muscle begins to hurt that you are truly building the muscle. All the work prior to the pain, was simply the precursor to the growth. Once you feel the pain in your muscle, that is when you must continue in order to grow like you desire. There is a lot of truth to the adage, “No pain, no Gain“.

I am not suggesting that we should necessarily aim for pain in our personal lives. I am not in support of joining the local sado-maschist group in your community or look for ways to get hurt. But I am suggesting to view pain from a different perspective, next time it invades your life.

Remember, it was Joseph who reminded his brothers (after they left him for dead in a well and then sold him to Egypt) that what they “intended for harm, God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” (Genesis 50:20)

I can’t tell you the number of times that I have experienced pain in my life. Sometimes, it seems that pain is the default setting in my life. As I am going through it, I hate every minute of it. I look for ways to end it. I do what I can to minimize it. I desperately want to be on the other side of it. That is human nature. Days, weeks, months or years later – when I reflect on that painful experience, I almost always see good that came out of it. Whether it was a physical pain or even an emotional or relational pain, I am able to see how that particular experience, though painful, helped me grow as a result.

Cognitively, I realize pain’s benefit. In spite of that recognition, I still do what I can to avoid it. And that is why God, as a loving Father, continues to allow us to experience it because He knows it is often the ONLY way we’ll grow. Fortunately for us, God isn’t interested in our happiness as much as He is interested in our holiness. He’s cares more about our growth than He does our games. He loves us too much to let us be comfortable and stagnant. His goal is to grow us to maturity, not let us remain in our childish ways. We can cry, complain and stomp our feet at Him, it doesn’t matter. He knows how to grow us and nothing will keep Him from it, even our tears.

Speaking of tears, even God’s own son, asked for another option besides the excruciatingly painful cross. Jesus’ wasn’t as concerned about the physical pain of crucifixion as He was about the relational pain of separation. God called Him to die for His people and the only way it would “work” was through the painful experience of the cross. For the first time ever, the Son would be separated from the Father. They had only ever enjoyed blissful communion with each other and now Jesus was about to experience blistering condemnation. It would literally kill Him. The cross was the only way for a righteous Judge to pardon His people’s crimes. The death of a sinless Savior would be the only payment accepted. Jesus could cry all He wanted, pain was inevitable and God Himself would not stop it from coming – even with His Son. Some misinterpret this as proof that God is unloving. If the avoidance of pain was God’s primary goal, then yes, God would be unloving to put His Son through such agony. But if God had a greater goal that could only be accomplished with pain, greater love has never been shown. The pain proves it.

The writer of Hebrews puts it into perspective, “Although Jesus was a son, He learned obedience from what He suffered.” (5:8)

Jesus’ brother, James, understood the positives of pain when he wrote, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:2-4)

What’s your perspective on the pain in your life?

Instead of focusing on your painful experience, perhaps God is using it to save/teach many lives through you.
Instead of complaining how much something hurts you, recognize that maybe God is trying to teach you obedience.
Instead of throwing yourself a pity party, be thankful that He can use such trials to give you a more mature faith.
Perhaps you need an injection of gratefulness and the only way to receive it is through the needle of pain.

Pain is a part of our lives. For most of us, it is the only way we grow.

Remember, no pain, no gain – even spiritually.

Rites of Passage – From Boys to Men

January 30, 2013May 23, 2015 rodarters

I was looking at my 14-year-old son this weekend. It was the kind of look a parent occasionally gives when they are “soaking in” the gift before them. I was having a flashback to when he was a baby. Then I recalled a funny memory when he was a toddler. Today, he is a freshman in high school, by all definitions, a teenager. And then my brain started to go to the future. In four years, he’ll be in college or in the work force. And then it hit me. The boy before me will one day (soon) become a man. But when? How? What do I need to do to help him transform? Or am I already doing it? Is there a class he should sign up for? Is there a test to take? Is there a certificate I can print out? If you make a boy with “snips and snails and puppy dog tails”, how do you make a man?

In some cultures, there is a specific rite of passage that signifies when this change occurs.

For a Jew, a Bah Mitzvah ceremony at age 13 would be the clear rite of passage into adulthood.
Among the cattle herding Barabaig culture of East Africa, their rite of passage is a bit more difficult. The boys’ heads are shaved and their foreheads are cut with three deep horizontal incisions that go down to the bone and extend from ear to ear. This mark leaves permanent scars that identify a male as having received “gar.” Sometimes, the incisions are deep enough to show up on the skulls.
Among the Luiseño Indians, boys have to lay on red ant mounds and not cry out from pain as they are repeatedly bitten over long periods of time. They were also given toloache, a powerful hallucinogenic drug that made them ill and apparently sometimes caused their death.
Among some Australian Aborigine societies, a boy would have several of his incisor teeth knocked out with a sharp rock by the adult men who were instructing him in the duties and obligations of manhood and the secrets of their religion.

Most of these rite of passage rituals were intended to be painful in order to increase the importance of the transition to adulthood. If that is the ticket to manhood today, my son might prefer to remain a boy. After all the money spent on braces, I’m grateful I am not an Australian Aborigine.

In America, our rite of passage is not so clear. When does a boy become a man in the land of the free? When he first shaves the whiskers off his chin? When he can drive? When he can vote? His first real job? When he has his own checking account? College graduation? Marriage? Sadly, even after some of these landmarks have been passed, many males are still only bigger boys. In spite of turning 16 or 18 or 21, many males are no closer to manhood simply because they are older. Regardless of achieving certain cultural milestones (even marriage!), many still act like selfish boys nowhere close to the standard of manhood required for such an endeavor.

What is God’s rite of passage into manhood? How does God grow a boy into a man? Apparently, through trials of faith. Knowing God, this should make sense. Humans are always focused on the physical, while God is infatuated with the spiritual. We are focused on the flesh, while God is all about the spirit. As God reminded the prophet Samuel, “God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (I Samuel 16:7)

In the book of Daniel (chapter one), you find the story of 3 Jewish boys better known by their pagan names; Shadrach, Meshach & Abednego. As Jewish exiles in captivity in Babylon, they are ordered by the King to study in the palace. They were specifically chosen because of their age and special characteristics. Before chapter one is over, God refers to them as “youths” on four separate occasions. The implication is clear, God considered them boys.

While they were at the palace, the “king assigned them a daily amount of food and wine from the king’s table.” Though the food was fit for a king, it was not fit for a practicing Jew and the dietary restrictions placed on them by the Law of Moses. Because of this, “Daniel resolved not to defile himself with the royal food and wine, and he asked the chief official for permission not to defile himself this way. Now God had caused the official to show favor and compassion to Daniel, but the official told Daniel, “I am afraid of my lord the king, who has assigned your food and drink. Why should he see you looking worse than the other youth your age? The king would then have my head because of you.”

Daniel then said to the guard, “Please test your servants for ten days: Give us nothing but vegetables to eat and water to drink. Then compare our appearance with that of the youths who eat the royal food, and treat your servants in accordance with what you see.” So he agreed to this and tested them for ten days.

At the end of the ten days they looked healthier and better nourished than any of the youths who ate the royal food. So the guard took away their choice food and the wine they were to drink and gave them vegetables instead.

To these four youths God gave knowledge and understanding of all kinds of literature and learning. And Daniel could understand visions and dreams of all kinds.

God, the king, even Daniel agreed with the assessment – they are mere boys.

In chapter 3, King Nebuchadnezzar had made a golden statue (90 feet tall x 9 feet wide) for the entire nation to worship. At the appointed time, on a musical cue, everyone was to bow down and worship the idol. Those who refused to bow were to be thrown immediately into a blazing furnace. The musical cue was given and out of an entire nation, apparently only 3 were left standing; Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. In spite of their tender age and lacking adult role models, these devout Jewish boys refused to bow to any god but their own.

The boys who chose to honor God with their diet were equally committed to honoring God with their feet. Their decision to stand was clearly life threatening.

Within minutes, these defiant boys would be identified. Within minutes so would their faith.
Moments earlier, they blended in with the crowd. Moments later, they stood out from it.
Their bodies looked like that of a boy. Their spirit was that of a man.
Their age was that of a child. Their faith was that of an adult.

Their rite of passage into manhood had begun. Notice the change of description God gives boys who exercise such faith.

Nebuchadnezzar was told of their civil disobedience, “These men , O king, have disregarded you; they do not serve your gods or worship the golden image which you have set up.
Then Nebuchadnezzar in rage and anger gave orders to bring Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego; then these men were brought before the king.”

Boys would “cower” before a king. Men will not. As the King interrogated them about their decision to stand, he gave them one more opportunity to recant their defiant decision. His satanic threat could not be missed. His tone could not be more serious. His intimidation could not be more real, “Now when you hear the sound of the music, if you are ready to fall down and worship the image I made, very good. But if you do not worship it, you will be thrown immediately into a blazing furnace. Then what god will be able to rescue you from my hand?”

Their response is as impressive as it is unflinching, “King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”

Threats can intimidate a fearful boy. It does not move a man a faith. In spite of a private audience with an enraged dictator, they trusted God with the results.

Their manhood is further etched in Scripture, “Then these men were tied up in their trousers, their coats, their caps and their other clothes, and were cast into the midst of the furnace of blazing fire. But these three men , Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, fell into the midst of the furnace of blazing fire still tied up. Then Nebuchadnezzar the king was astounded and stood up in haste; he said to his high officials, “Was it not three men we cast bound into the midst of the fire?” They replied to the king, “Certainly, O king.” He said, “Look! I see four men loosed and walking about in the midst of the fire without harm, and the appearance of the fourth is like a son of the gods! The satraps, the prefects, the governors and the king’s high officials gathered around and saw in regard to these men that the fire had no effect on the bodies of these men nor was the hair of their head singed, nor were their trousers damaged, nor had the smell of fire even come upon them.”

Before the testing of their faith, they were boys. Afterward, they were regarded as men.

Boys, have you passed through God’s rite of passage yet? Apparently it is not an age requirement or the ability to jump over some cultural milestone. It seems to have less to do with your body and more to do with your spirit. In God’s economy, it seems to be less physical and more spiritual. If that is true, how old are you really? By human standards, you may be 14 – but would God consider you a man of faith? By a human calendar the culture may say you are a man – but are you so in God’s eyes?

Remember, we are to have a child-like faith, not a childish one. (Matthew 18:3-5) Just like in our physical world, God’s goal is maturity… in faith. This was Paul’s frustration with the church in Corinth when he wrote, “I could not address you as people who live by the Spirit but as people who are still worldly — mere infants in Christ. I gave you milk, not solid food, for you were not yet ready for it. Indeed, you are still not ready. You are still worldly. For since there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not worldly? Are you not acting like mere humans?” (I Corinthians 3:1-3)

God is looking to change boys into men. Unfortunately, too many boys have too few men to look to as guides. Too many boys remain boys far too long in our current culture. Too many men look to an incorrect standard to measure their masculinity. Sadly, we have somehow equated manhood with success or sexual prowess when God appears to measure it via spiritual maturity.

Adult, how old are you really – in God’s eyes? You might be an adult in your body but are you really one in your spirit?

At age twelve we are told that “Jesus kept increasing in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men.” (Luke 2:52)

The Apostle Paul declared, “When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things.” (I Corinthians 13:11)

As I groom my son to become a man one day, I’m tempted to take him fishing. Or hunting. Or show him how to shoot a gun. Or use a hammer. Or change the oil. Or rotate the car tires. All good things for men to know. But without passing the baton of my faith, what have I really given him?

Lying, wrestling and the limp to come

January 20, 2013May 23, 2015 rodarters

On August 31st of last year, I wrote a post about the controversy surrounding Lance Armstrong and the allegations that he had taken “performance enhancing drugs.” Towards the end of that article I made a prophetic prediction, “One day (soon) we will know whether Lance’s accomplishment was a true physical feat or a fraud.”

That “one day” is now upon us. The feat turned out to be the fraud.

Lance has finally “come clean” – admitting to doping and by default, lying about his past. It does not appear that anyone is too surprised at the admission. What is shocking is the degree of deception and the years of passionate denials. The dust has now settled and we find Lance has lost the only thing he really had left to cling to; his word. That, by the way, is now considered worthless. Such is the consequence of serial lying.

Sadly, it seems to be a common occurrence these days. A foul is committed and the person under scrutiny declares their innocence on national television. As a nation, we want to believe them. We hope they were wrongly accused. We wish the evidence was less certain. We struggle with the dichotomy between their words of innocence and the damning facts in hand. Even though their denials often go against evidence and common sense, we still believe – hoping against hope. Lance officially joins a growing, infamous group of deceivers:

For those of us old enough to remember, we flashback to a former sitting President declaring his innocence with all sincerity about the extra-marital relationship he didn’t have. Lies.
We recall an emotional husband declaring his innocence with all sincerity about his wife and unborn child and how they went missing. Lies.
With disgust, we remember a prominent football coach who declared his innocence with all sincerity and what didn’t happen with boys in the locker room. Lies.

Our country’s legal system was based upon the assumption that everyone would be considered “innocent until proven guilty.” It’s becoming harder and harder to maintain that assumption. You hate to doubt every person who ever denies an allegation but we have seen too many people deny too many things too many times to give us hope that anyone under suspicion is telling the truth anymore. The more sincere someone is in their denial the more cynical we can become. Sincerity, it turns out, is an irrelevant indicator of truth – even if it is heart-felt and convincing.

The following poem reveals that sincerity, though important, just isn’t enough.

“Charlie was a Chemist but Charlie is no more for what Charlie thought was H2O was really H2SO4.”

Charlie can sincerely believe the liquid in the test tube is water. His sincerity does not change the fact that he is performing a lab experiment with sulfuric acid.

Many questions abound after the truth rises to the surface. Too often, we never get straight answers to these questions. Concerning Lance, we all want to know why? Why he lied is obvious but why did he finally come clean? Why did he come clean now and not in the beginning or during his testimony under oath? Why did he lie for so long? Why did he try to deceive everyone at every level, even attacking his accusers now proved justified in their accusations? More importantly, can he ever be trusted again?

It’s easy to villianize Lance (and others like him) in the media. We tend to enjoy sitting on our moral high horse and judge the poor decisions of the rich and famous. But truth be told, the only difference between Lance and me or you is that he is rich and famous. Our heart is just as likely to be led astray by fame, fortune and world championships as anyone else. One man is tempted to abuse drugs while another man is tempted to abuse children. One woman might steal clothes while another prefers to steal husbands. Granted, the consequences to some sins are very different and more severe, but the capacity for wrong exists in all people.

This was Jesus’ point when the Scribes & Pharisees (religious leaders of His day) brought a woman caught in the act of adultery to Him (John 8). The Law stated that she should be stoned (to death) for her sin. Jesus saw the problem with their approach immediately. None of these religious leaders were in a moral position to judge this sinful woman. None of them (priest and prostitute alike) are worthy to throw a stone at anyone. Jesus gave them permission to stone her… under one condition, “He who is without sin among you, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.” Isn’t that the heart of the issue?

Unfortunately, we have not seen the last of duplicitous divas. In a few months, we will forget about Lance as the next celebrity will shock us with his/her tales of living a double life. Another salacious story will grab our attention. Another tale of deception will captivate our minds and appease our lust for sensational news. Hollywood will capitalize on the story for their next movie much like I have used it as fodder for this blog (Sorry Jim!). Deception will continue to rear its ugly head and only the super hero of truth can defeat it. Truth will always beat a lie even if it does take awhile to pin it to the mat.

Truth wrestling deception turns out to be a fitting analogy. In the Old Testament, Jacob (whose name means deceiver) had been living up to his name. After deceiving his father and stealing his eldest brother’s birthright blessing (Genesis 27), Jacob was on the run – from his brother and from living a truthful life. By chapter 32, we find that Jacob was “left alone.” That is where those who walk the road of deception eventually find themselves, alone. Mysteriously, a “man” begins to wrestle with him until daybreak. Wrestling a total stranger is a strange thing to do at any hour of the day. But this match began in the middle of the night, certainly an odd time to wrestle anyone. The writer of Genesis identifies the mysterious wrestler as none other than God Himself.

As the deceiver wrestled with Truth, there was more at stake than a mere championship. Unbeknownst to Jacob, his very name and life were about to be changed. In the heat of the battle, Truth touched the socket of Jacob’s thigh – dislocating his hip. Tired, in pain and recognizing he was in the presence of one greater than him, Jacob would not let go until the mystery man blessed him. Ironically, the one who stole a blessing is now seeking one for himself. When asked for his name, the deceiver simply replied, “Jacob.” The man of mystery said, “Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome.”

God likes to engage His children. He could have challenged Jacob to a game of chess and dealt with him on an intellectual level. He could have challenged Jacob to a myriad of different physical challenges. Instead, He chose to wrestle him. Wrestling is intimate. It is body on body. It is sweat upon sweat. No other physical contest provides as much physical contact. It is just like God to desire that kind of contact with His children. It is just like God to pursue His wayward kids – even in their darkest night. While you are alone in your darkness, He shows up and wants to wrestle. While everyone else is running from you (in pain) or after you (in anger) – God is both brave enough and loving enough to deal with you head on. God knows His children intimately and how to grow us – even if it requires Him to first “touch” us where it hurts.

Like Jacob, I spent quite a few years running from others. Many of my decisions have also left me alone, in the dark. As I look around the landscape, there have been no shortage of Pharisees with stones in their hands aimed at my direction. I have done some late night wrestling with a mysterious God and have had virtually every area of my life dislocated as a result. Like Jacob, I will spend the rest of my days walking with a reputational limp… every step reminding me of a past I’d prefer to forget. And yet, in the gritty process I have been blessed. I have received a new identity. I understand a bit more clearer how the Redeemer redeems.

Oh, how that Redeemer loves to wrestle – even today. He still dislocates hips. And changes names. And changes lives. And gives a blessing to those who don’t deserve them.

May it be so for Lance. A new Lance with a limp.

The overwhelming scent of a woman

January 14, 2013May 23, 2015 rodarters

Perfume smells nice unless you are in Seat 1A, next to the overly fragranced flight attendant, 35,000 feet high, on a tiny express plane with circulated air – which is where I am at the moment. My seat is conveniently located near the door. It is also next to the flight attendant seat where she performs most of her duties. If the Guinness Book of World Records had a category for “Excessive Perfume Wearing” her picture would be next to it. If it had a category of “Most Consecutive Gags”, my photo would be there. At that close proximity, perfume becomes more of a taste than a smell causing you to sneeze more than sniff. What is it with some ladies and perfume and the generous amounts they apply to their skin? (To be fair, I imagine that the same could be said of men and cologne.) What’s supposed to be pleasant becomes putrid. What’s supposed to be attracting becomes distracting. As she was publicly reviewing the safety procedures, less than 12 inches from my side, all I kept thinking was how I wished the oxygen masks would drop. Now. Before I do.

I’ve never been one to appreciate perfume. If anyone ever tried to use it to attract me, they would be severely disappointed. For one, my sense of smell is by far my weakest sense. I could see dead people with my 6^th sense (movie reference) before I can smell anything. Although I understand the importance of stopping to “smell the roses”, it seems to be a futile exercise with my nose. Some lack taste buds making food taste bland. I lack a keen sense of smell making it difficult to appreciate most odors. Unfortunately, the only odors that seem to have a straight line to my nostrils are obscene amounts of ladies perfume, the smell of manure from the farmlands of Lancaster, PA and the occasional stray fart conveniently claimed by no one in public settings. It is for this reason, I never serve baked beans in my home, though rumor has it they are “good for your heart.” Apparently, the more you eat, the more you… well, never mind. It’s just a theory.

I also never walk past the perfume section of department stores. Ever. The only difference between the ladies at the perfume counter and a trained military sniper is clothing. They both hunt you down, aim with deadly precision and can disable you within seconds. The snipers merely wear camouflage, you can’t see them coming.

My 12-year-old daughter has recently discovered a renewed interest in make-up and perfume, to my chagrin. When she has a friend sleep over, her room begins to smell like a perfume factory. Amidst the giggles, the odor is so powerful that you would think that perfume was being created there. It wouldn’t surprise me if my daughter has the meth-lab equivalent of perfume in my house. I’m waiting for Chanel 5 to raid her room. I’d go see for myself, but I can’t get past the door before I have to stop, drop and roll. I have since placed a Haz-mat sticker on her door.

So, this post is for the ladies that wear perfume at nauseating levels. Though some men really enjoy your odor… many of us don’t. May I offer two suggestions?

Less is more. Yes, it smells good. But just like one piece of gum makes your breath a bit fresher, it does not mean that 10 pieces of gum are better. No one wants to watch someone chew on 10 pieces of gum at once. In the same manner, no one wants to smell a perfume factory in their olfactory. A little perfume goes a long way.

Consider your environment. If you are about to run the Boston Marathon and feel like creating a pleasant trail of scent for the people behind you, by all means – drench yourself in perfume. The outdoor environment can handle your excessive application. If, however, you plan on being in an elevator, office, plane or other enclosed space, please re-consider the amount of perfume you place on yourself.

All joking aside, I’m less troubled by the amount of perfume that is worn and more concerned as to why it’s there in the first place. Like most things in life, perfume is not inerrantly bad but the motive it is on could be. Motives, I have come to learn, are the playground the mature play on. What we do is important. Why we do it is equally important, particularly as we get older.

Today I find myself raising a teenage daughter who is (daily) becoming more aware of her body and image. In spite of her appearance on any given day, I want her know that she is loved unconditionally beyond her wildest imaginations. Her outward appearance is merely a shell – not who she really is. Underneath her beautiful hair, winning smile & trimmed eyelashes is the apple of her Daddy’s eye. And a bad hair day, the addition of a few pounds or the sprinkling of perfume cannot change that.

Sadly though, this is not the message the girls in our culture hear – particularly in our beauty-centered environment. Because of this, an apology is due…from my gender to theirs.

“Dear Ladies, as I wait in line at the grocery store, I see the models on the covers of the magazines that you are supposed to emulate. I have watched the beauties in the pageants and the impossible standard they set for all women worldwide. I watch the commercials of the companies that sell the products that you “need” to buy to become a better you. And I hear the comments made by men on sitcoms and around water coolers about women and how they should look. And if I’m honest, I have contributed to the problem more times than I care to admit. No wonder women run to make-up or perfume or hair spray or weight loss programs. From your earliest memory you have been taught that you are not good enough (or smart enough, pretty enough, thin enough, etc). And you never will be, with that criteria in place. You are destined to fail in pleasing a man as that man is destined to fail in pleasing you. Pleasing each other was never supposed to be our first priority or highest goal. Forgive us, the men in your life, who have misled you into chasing lesser things – our shallow affections.”

In fact, even two thousand years ago, Roman culture reflected our current shallow culture today. The pressures women face today (to be beautiful) have not changed, just the products available to them. So prevalent was this problem among women that God, through His biblical writers, shared what adornments were important to Him. His tastes have not changed today.

“I also want the women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, adorning themselves, not with elaborate hairstyles or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God.” (I Timothy 2:9-10)

“Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to adorn themselves.” (I Peter 3:3-5)

What if we had more Moms (or women) that pursued the “unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit“?

We would probably have more daughters (or girls) who dressed modestly and had a healthier perspective on make-up and what it could and should do for them.

And this may not happen until we have more Dads (or men) doing a better job of sharing what is truly important in the females entrusted to us.

It’s not the cover of the magazine that should get our attention but the content within. Character, not cosmetics, should turn our heads. That should be the overwhelming scent in all of our lives.

Banning guns, rocks and apps

January 4, 2013October 19, 2017 rodarters

If you have your finger on the pulse of new technology, you are already familiar with the wildly popular app called Snapchat. About two months ago a trusted, technologically savvy friend introduced this app to me. She explained that it was a fun, new way to send pictures to others with the same app. I did not quite understand how it was different from simply texting a picture to others with my phone. The way it was explained it to me was that this app has two unique features:

The picture you send is only viewable for 10 seconds (maximum).
Immediately after the image is viewed, it is deleted from the app, never to be seen again.

Over the last month, I have dabbled in the world of Snapchat – even enjoying some goofy images with my teenage children, both recent Snapchat members.

For the last two months, I have been under the assumption that this was just another innocent app created for the promotion of fun and creative communication. I hadn’t even thought about the dangers of it, until yesterday, when I was in line at a store and noticed the teenager in front of me on the app. Glancing at his screen, I realized that he was sending something inappropriate to a “friend.” And then it hit me. This app is perfect for sexting or being generally inappropriate with other members. It provides the perfect cover since it can only be viewed for a brief period of time (literally seconds) with the picture being deleted immediately after sending. Ah, sneaky creators of apps!!

And then another thought hit me… my kids use this app! Oh no!! Even if they are not sending inappropriate images, they can certainly receive one without warning!

And then another thought hit me… I have to warn others, particularly parents, who may be in the dark about this app’s subtle dangers. Consider this the Paul Revere of parenting post. “The Sexters are coming! The Sexters are coming!” At first glance, this app seems harmless. How can a cute little ghost steer you wrong? This app is not as innocent as we might think.

Even if Snapchat only allows an image to be viewed for 10 seconds and deletes it after viewing, that does not mean that the picture cannot live or travel beyond its intended purpose. If someone were to take a picture of the Snapchat picture within that 10 second time frame, you can see how the “soon to be deleted” image could live in infamy, against the sender’s knowledge or wish. Snapchat’s own privacy policy recognizes its limited ability to protect the content sent through its app when it writes:

“Although we attempt to delete image data as soon as possible after the message is transmitted, we cannot guarantee that the message contents will be deleted in every case. For example, users may take a picture of the message contents with another imaging device or capture a screenshot of the message contents on the device screen. Consequently, we are not able to guarantee that your messaging data will be deleted in all instances. Messages, therefore, are sent at the risk of the user.”

Even if the makers of this app had entirely pure motives in creating it, it should not surprise us that others are quick to corrupt the medium. Most things created with a good purpose can be twisted towards evil. Once again, it serves as a reminder to us all that as technology advances, so does our capacity for abusing and misusing it.

As soon as I realized the potential danger this app posed to my children, I thought about immediately removing it from their phones. But then I realized they could just text inappropriate messages instead. So then I thought about removing texting as an option for their phones. But then I realized that they could just have inappropriate phone conversations instead. So then I thought about taking their phones away. But then I realized that they could just send inappropriate letters to others via the postal service. So then I thought about removing all paper, pens, envelopes and stamps from their room. While I am at it, I might as well remove happiness, trust and my relationship with them in the process.

The reality is, the app is not the problem – our misuse of it is. Similarly, guns are not the primary problem in our current culture (as some claim), people abusing them are. Could we create some additional laws that would help protect more of our citizens? Sure, but that won’t stop those committed to breaking them. Before there were demands for gun control, there were demands for sword control. Before there were demands for sword control, Cavemen politicians demanded club control. And before club reform initiatives were in place, there was a need for rock control as that appears to be the first weapon ever used.

Our first family (Adam & Eve) were misusing the intended purpose of rocks before the third generation. Just outside the Garden of Eden, Adam’s son, Cain used a rock to kill his brother Abel (Genesis 4). The patriarch Jacob used a rock for practical purposes – he needed a pillow (Genesis 28). We are told that the prophet Elijah used the cleft of a rock to hide from an enemy (I Kings 19). We know that Nehemiah used rocks to rebuild Jerusalem’s walls. The church’s first Deacon, Stephen, was stoned to death with rocks (Acts 7). Rocks are not the problem. They were created by God and serve a multi-purpose. However, a rock in the wrong hands can obviously be deadly, just ask Cain. And last time I checked, no one needs a special license to use one or look very hard to find one.

While there are some out there who would just prefer to ban certain weapons or technology or “throw out the baby with the bath water”, that isn’t really the heart of the issue. Snapchat is not a bad app, even though it does allow an opportunity for bad decisions. Every generation has to address each technological advance and determine how to protect our youngest ones from its eventual misuse or abuse. The back seat of a car is a tremendous feature even if teenagers have been using it inappropriately for decades. Television can be a wonderful tool of education for some, while others choose to use it for more sinister viewing. A baseball bat, the internet, money, cough medicine and guns can be used for both good and bad, depending upon the user. Banning any of these from public use not only limits how each can be used for good, but it also misses point.

We can ban guns and rocks and those who desire to kill will still do so with a knife or club.

You can remove Snapchat from a teenagers phone and those who desire to sext will simply find another app or way to do it.

Perhaps we should invest more effort addressing the heart of the problem, which is the heart of people. As President Theodore Roosevelt once said, “Character, in the long run, is the decisive factor in the life of an individual and of nations, alike.”

I think it is safe to say, America, though still considered a super power in the world, has lost its way. Our character, as a nation, is not where it used to be. French historian (Alexis-Charles-Henri Clérel de Tocqueville) visited America in the mid 1800’s looking for the secret to America’s success. Where He found it may shock you. His observation is profound,

“I sought for the greatness and genius of America in her commodious harbors and her ample rivers – and it was not there. I sought it in her fertile fields and boundless forests – and it was not there. I looked in her rich mines and her vast world commerce – and it was not there. I looked in her democratic Congress and her matchless Constitution – and it was not there. Not until I went into the churches of America and heard her pulpits flame with righteousness did I understand the secret of her genius and power. America is great because she is good, and if America ever ceases to be good, America will cease to be great.”

To truly change a nation, you must change the character of its citizens. To truly change the character of its citizens, you must change their behavior. To truly change their behavior, you must change their mindset. To truly change their mindset, you must change their heart. And to truly change a human heart, God must be involved as the heart is His domain.

A changed heart produces a changed mind. A changed mind produces changed behaviors. Changed behaviors produce changed characters. And people of character, change nations. Abraham Lincoln, William Wallace, Winston Churchill and Nelson Mandela are some examples, just to name a few.

We don’t need gun control or a different app, we need heart surgery, one citizen at a time.

After confessing his affair with Bathsheeba and the murder of her husband, King David penned these words in Psalm 51, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit in me.” He recognized his need for a new heart.

Do you?

“If My people, who are called by My name, will humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” (II Chronicles 7:14)

Rod’s Blog: 2012 Year in review

December 31, 2012May 4, 2015 rodarters

As 2012 comes to an end, so does my first year as an official blogger. I never thought I would join the blogging community and now I can’t imagine not being a part of it. Though I have been writing for years and have been published numerous times in both magazines and newspapers, there is something unique and special and different about writing for a blog. No editors, no deadlines, no word limits or endless revisions. I have also made some new friends along the way, an added benefit that I did not anticipate when I made the decision to blog.

As you may know, my goal was to write a “thought-provoking blog about life, mistakes, faith, hope and grace. Oh, and sometimes it is funny.” With each post, I have tried to stay true to that guideline. I have written about life with posts about birthdays, Boy Scouts, dating, school shootings, freedom of speech, abortion,& suicide. Many of the posts mention the many mistakes I have made in my life and the subsequent lessons I have learned from them. I have tried to weave faith, hope, grace and humor through each post as they are aspects we all need regardless of our personal situation. I even offer some free parental advice in posts like “How to raise a rebellious child”, “The corrective brace” and “Parenting in the technological age.”

I thought I would use this final post to share some fun facts about my blog as of today (December 31, 2012) – the last day of the year. For those who have encouraged me to write again – thank you. For those who have read my posts, forwarded them to others, made comments, suggestions and critiques – thank you as well. My blog would not be where it is today without you.

2012 Fun Blog Facts:

90 – Number of posts written this year (total)
17 – Most number posts written in a given month (May)
4 – Least number of posts written in a given month (April & November)
48,638 – Number of people who have read my blog
22,514 – Most viewed month (July)
7,098 – Most views in one day
18,272 – Most read blog (The Dark Knight Rises Indeed)
151 – Number of countries that have seen my blog

Top 10 most views by country:

Country	Views
United States	36,096
Canada	1,092
United Kingdom	1,008
Netherlands	657
Australia	608
Philippines	590
Thailand	436
India	429
Italy	427
Germany	402

Top 10 most popular posts (by views)

Source: 2012 Annual Report

See you in the New Year!

rod arters

Delivering thought-provoking truths about life, mistakes, faith, hope and grace.

Author: rodarters