Nobody Knows Nothin’
I remember when I was a boy and hung on every word my Dad said as though it were an edict from God Himself. If Dad said it worked this way, then that’s how it worked. If he said something really meant something else, then I knew that I knew the real meaning of whatever that something was.
Let me think...
What I didn’t know then that I am only beginning to understand now is what an enormous burden that was for him to carry…for any Dad or Mom or pastor or president or CEO of an oil company whose mishap is dirtying the Gulf. We expect certain people to have the answers we don’t, to know the things about which we are ignorant, to have the wisdom or insight to get us where we are going…or where we think we are going…or where we think we need to be.
Sometimes, they do. Sometimes, they don’t. Sometimes, they just get lucky. Most of the time, they take the information they have and make the best decision they can. That is what the leaders of British Petroleum are doing.
It is also what MacArthur and his team did in the Pacific during World War II. But for all the wisdom and intelligence associated with the American military, there were still costly miscalculations and oversights. For instance, the tiny island of Peleliu, where the Japanese had a strategic airfield, was a point of critical concern to MacArthur. Intelligence suggested the campaign to seize the airfield would last only a couple of days. Instead, the battle for Peleliu lasted more than a month and cost hundreds of Marines their lives.
The Pelelius in life happen because we don’t know everything. Sometimes, what we do know is all wrong.
I am not quite the wizened old sage to whom the people in my world look for wisdom and guidance. But I am not that big-eyed kid anymore either. I do have a few people who listen to what I have to say, who take my advice to heart, who think maybe I know something they don’t. And maybe I do.
Or maybe I don’t.
Now that I am that Dad I used to believe in so much, I realize how very little I really know. I look back over my life, over my time as a father, a leader, and even a pastor (God help us), and I realize that all I ever was able to do was take the information I had, face the future with it, and make the best determination I could.
Sometimes, I was cock-sure I was right, but now know I was dead wrong. Like when I was so certain my daughter was making a mistake falling in love with that wiry kid from a broken home.
“He doesn’t know anything about being a good husband or father. He isn’t fit. He is not right for you.”
I was wrong.
Don’t get me wrong here. This isn’t intended to get parents, preachers, politicians or military leaders to stop making decisions, providing guidance, or lending advice. I just want to make it clear that none of us knows the end from the beginning. Sometimes, what we think is a bad thing isn’t and what we think is a good thing isn’t either. Sometimes, misfortune is really opportunity. Other times, the golden egg the goose laid on your doorstep is a cleverly disguised grenade.
Here is a news flash for you: Being older doesn’t always make you wiser.
Another one: being a Christian doesn’t automatically qualify you for Dear Abby’s column. So wipe that smug look off your face and admit you may be wrong.
I have…for now.
I saw it on some movie somewhere, I guess. A bunch of criminals of some sort and a cop amongst them, going from one to the other, looking for information. Finally, one of them says, “Lookit, copper. Nobody knows nothin’.”
He said a mouthful. Nobody knows nothing. Everybody knows something. A few know a little more, and many know a lot less. None of us knows everything. None of us understands everything we claim to know.
It’s time we admit it.
All that said, maybe I will turn this blog into an advice column. Just reply to this piece with your questions and/or concerns…if you are ready to listen to the advice of a man who knows he may be wrong. Maybe I will call it In(Gene)ious Insights and make a million dollars giving other people advice. I am pretty good at telling you what to do, even if I haven’t a clue what to do with myself.
God bless your day.
They Call Me Mr. Brightside: Finding the Positive in the Negative
Apparently, I am in danger of losing my membership in the Eternal Optimists Club due to my recent less-than-cheery communications. This is an attempt to correct my course.
I have decided to list 10 negative things and look on the bright side of each. (I know I can do this.) So here goes…
- My truck was stolen, BUT at least no one was in it at the time.
- I have not been deployed to a storm since November, BUT my own house has not been hit by one either.
- My grandson lives in Colorado, so I cannot just see him any time I want. BUT, I have a grandson and he lives in Colorado.
- I am still carrying around 30 pounds more than I want, BUT I am eating well.
- I sometimes cannot think of a word I want to use when I am writing, BUT I can usually think of a suitable synonym.
- The bright red Chevrolet Cobalt I am driving looks like a blood blister and feels like (after driving my roomy four-door Dodge Ram for five years) I have moved out of a sprawling estate into an economy apartment, BUT the heater and radio work fine, so I can keep warm and listen to the Ticket.
- The Cowboys, once again, are not in the Super Bowl, BUT Jerry Jones has decided if we cannot go to the mountain, the mountain will come to us…next year.
- My goatee is nearly 100% gray now, negatively impacting my youthful look; BUT the hair on my head seems to be hanging in there
- I am not that great at taking life’s lemons and making lemonade, BUT I don’t really like lemonade that much anyway.
- I may be losing my membership in the Eternal Optimists Club, BUT there is always The Jelly of the Month Club, and that is “the gift that keeps on giving.”
There. See? I’m Mr. Brightside.
And now, in support of my new outlook, I introduce a fellow optimist and her sweet ukulele…
Isn’t she sweet? And doesn’t it seem like she almost believes every word of that song?
Keep on the sunny side, friends.
Mr. Brightside, signing off.
Pretty Bubbles in the Air
There is one who makes himself rich, yet has nothing; And one who makes himself poor, yet has great riches.
Prov. 13:7 (NKJV)
Now godliness with contentment is great gain. 1 Tim. 6:6 (NKJV)
Yesterday, an old tune my Dad used to sing came to mind. It is a lovely tune, one I thoroughly enjoyed hearing him sing when I was a small boy. But then one day I really heard the words for the first time…and they were fraught with discouragement and disillusion. So, I wondered if Dad just liked the tune or if he somehow felt the impact of the lyrics.
The song goes like this…
I’m forever blowing bubbles
Pretty bubbles in the air
They fly so high, they reach the sky
Just like my dreams, they fade and die
Fortune’s always hiding,
I look everywhere
I’m forever blowing bubbles
Pretty bubbles in the air
Honestly, most of us have felt that way at one time or another, like all our efforts, schemes, and dreams were so many pretty bubbles, enjoyed for a few minutes, ascending higher and higher, only to burst into nothingness.
Solomon surely went through a period of such despondency. Having searched out all that the world had to offer and finding that it left him cold and empty inside, he penned observations that became the most downbeat book in the Bible…Ecclesiastes. The catch phrase and theme of the whole book is, “Vanity, vanity, all is vanity.” Solomon compared chasing riches and pleasure and all that the world can offer to chasing the wind. You cannot catch it…and even if you do, what have you got?
But Solomon was living life, as he put it, “under the sun.”
God intends for you and me to live on a higher plain. He urges us to seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, trusting Him that all these other things will be ours as well. Paul found that gain without godliness was fleeting and troublesome, but godliness coupled with contentment was real wealth.
I don’t want to burst any bubbles today, but acquisitions, accolades and accomplishments don’t last. Nor do they bring real satisfaction.
Jesus does.
A Prayer for Today: “Lord Jesus, I do not wish to spend my time here on earth chasing pretty bubbles. Help me, Lord, to live my life on a higher plain. Help me to order my priorities so that the things that thrill me are the things of eternal value. And may I be content with such as I have, trusting You to meet my needs and take me still to higher ground! Amen.”
Pieces of Me
The Journey Continues
Tossing about in the bed last night, chasing the elusive slumber I so desperately sought, my mind wandered back to the places I have been and people I have seen the past couple of weeks.
Weekend before last, Donya and I flew to Texarkana, Arkansas to spend a couple of days. There is only one reason on earth we would waste a plane ride on Texarkana (or Arkansas, for that matter).
Her name is Holly.
We hadn’t seen her in awhile and we missed her terribly.
The trip was short, but it was sweet. For a city girl with a Master’s degree and a personality as big as the state the Texas half of Texarkana occupies, the slow-paced, never-changing east Texas landscape is as unlikely a place for her to land as one can imagine.
But God works in mysterious ways…and sends His kids on unexpected adventures. So, there she is.
For now.
And there I am, too. A piece of me resides in that east Texas border town.
Then, this weekend past, it was off to Colorado Springs for the wife and me. Our Army Sergeant son-in-law is stationed there now. More importantly, our oldest daughter and only grandson are stationed there with him.
We knew how badly we missed them, and we knew how much. The four days spent in the Rockies reminded us why we missed them so much. How good it felt to hear our daughter’s unmistakable machine gun laughter! How incredibly incredible it was to hear that boy say “DooDah” and “Mimi” with genuine love and affection.
The beauty of the Garden of the Gods, the majesty of Pike’s Peak, the serenity and elegance of the Air Force Academy base where they live paled in comparison to the laughter of one little boy.
Ashley and Ty dropped us off at the airport. We smothered the grandboy in kisses and tormented him with one last barrage of tickles. He gripped his Mimi’s arm and begged her not to go. Then he cried as they drove away. We wiped a couple of tears ourselves, gathered the bags and boarded the plane for home.
Pieces of me were left behind, in that snow-blanketed pass, high in the Rocky Mountains.
Two hours later, the plane touched down at DFW International Airport. Standing in the drizzle, beneath the gray skies of home, I watched a silver Dodge pickup pull to the curb. Behind the wheel, another piece of me – the one we named Lacey Nicole – welcomed us home.
I am learning as I journey that so much of life is simply about change and adjusting to it and accepting it and learning how to live with it. Resisting it is natural, but mostly futile. Denying it is silly. Ignoring it is unhealthy. Embracing it is difficult. I have taken each of these approaches…sometimes in a single day.
If I could, I would find a comfortable place and stop. I would drive down a stake and take my stand, refusing to put another foot forward. The way is sometimes hard. The path has twists and turns I don’t always see coming. It would be so much easier just to freeze yourself in that one place, that one moment when you were the happiest, when all the pieces of your world fit neatly into place. They weren’t scattered by the winds of change. Just stay there, in that moment…forever.
But life is a journey, and journey we must.
So, to this moment I have come. The places I have gone and the people I have loved are precious little vials containing pieces of me. But I cannot stay.
The journey continues…
Social Follow
Journey With...
-
The JourneyMan by D. Gene Strother is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at genestrother.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at permission@genestrother.com.
Here we go…
-
-
-
