More to It Than Meets the Eye

I don’t know how you feel about it, but I am confident in many things. This confidence is not arrogance, it is not some self-propagating delusion. It comes from faith. Hebrews 11:1 describes faith as “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Some people believe faith is empty, that it’s some invisible wish for the impossible. But faith to the active believer is the proof, in and of itself. Those having this active faith find that their hopes are not empty wishes, but they have substance, they are tangible. Faith itself gives evidence of those things beyond physical sight, human impossibility and even spiritual understanding.

Over the years, as I have watched the final moments of many Godly men and women, I have stood in awe at the transition from this life to the next. It doesn’t always happen this way, nor is every passing identical. But through faith, I have experienced reality of what lies beyond.

The Apostle Paul said that eyes have not seen, ears have not heard, nor even in the vividness of our imagination can we conceive the smallest fraction of the glories and perfection of heaven. But for many, I feel that as their earthy life comes to a close, their physical eyes are opened to glimpse a portion of what awaits them. Perhaps it is to give them peace as they leave this life behind.

Or maybe, it is to give hope and comfort to those left behind to grieve.

Standing with these home-going saints, I have watched them reach toward an invisible hand, speak of wondrous illumination and beautiful music, smile in the midst of pain and be at perfect peace. To me, and my faith, this is much more than the “walking to the bright light” experiences some people claim. This is real, and while it gives even more substance for these hoped-for things to those leaving, it gives such deep joy and peace to those who know where their loved ones are going. Sometimes, that’s the biggest source of strength for people with such great pain.

In reference to my last entry, my mother-in-law gained victory over this life and its pain on Monday, January 16th, at 11:55 PM. For six days we waited and prayed, not only for the Lord’s will to be done for her, but for courage and strength for the family and friends to make it through their loss.

At 47, my mother-in-law was young, but it was her appointed time, and she met it with as much grace and dignity possible. For her oldest child, my wife, the days before her death were spent in intense prayer, but with a simple request. Her mother was there to hold her when she was born. My wife wanted to be there to hold her mother’s hand as she passed from this life.

There were times over the course of these last days that my wife thought her prayer would not be answered. But in the end, the Lord granted her request, and as her mother’s life here came to its conclusion, my wife held her hand. But more than this, the Lord granted her a unique and very special blessing.

I asked her to share it with the readers of this blog. The following are the thoughts of a daughter, documented just a day after her mother’s passing. I was inspired and strengthened by her experience, and what the Lord shared with her during the most difficult time of her life will, I believe, inspire you as well.

For those of you who knew me from the beginning, you may remember the situation with my mother who was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease). Many of you prayed for me and my family. My deepest thanks goes to each of you. The last few months have been unbelievably trying, with the last week topping it off.

Last Wednesday morning [Jan. 11], in between classes, I walked into my office to find my cell phone blinking with a message. I froze as I saw it was from my father. I immediately knew something was wrong. I called him and he informed me that my mother (who had been in an assisted living care center since October) was near death, and that Hospice strongly suggested that family members get there ASAP. I work 30 minutes away from where she was located, so I rushed home to my husband who proceeded to drive me to her location. I was devastated upon arrival, as she was either purple or a color I can't really explain. We all took our private turns with her, saying anything that needed to be said. Wednesday came and went, she stayed. By Thursday afternoon she had greatly improved; however her blood pressure, pulse, and breathing continued to have irregularities.

Night after night I would stay by her side, something I never thought I would have been strong enough to do.

On Sunday evening, per God's orders, I went to church instead of up to my mom. I was tremendously blessed there as God proved His presence to me. (another story) Anyway, Sunday night as I was getting ready to go back to spend the night by my mother's side, I called my dad "just to check." He told me that they had upped her medicine earlier in the day, and that she was quite peaceful now and able to stay asleep for hours at a time. He told me to stay home and get some sleep (which I was severely lacking... I didn't care, though). I did not take this well, and it was only through a strong prayer warrior and God's blessed peace that I actually did stay home Sunday night and got some rest.

All was good until a new complication terrorized my view. My father called Monday morning around 10:30 and said that she really was headed out this time, if not already gone. She had no detectable pulse and no blood pressure. I once again rushed back to her, mad at God for not letting me be with her when she went. I kept thinking, "If only I had stayed, this wouldn't have happened." Once I got there; however, a nurse informed me that she was still alive; barely, but she was. I quickly and sheepishly asked forgiveness from my Heavenly Father.

I stayed by her side for hours Monday until I had to walk and cry and walk and cry and... well, you get the picture. By the time evening came around I sent my husband back home to get my 2-year-old son to simply come and sleep where I was, since it looked to be a long night. As I lay in bed across the hall from my Mother, trying to get my son to sleep, my husband comes in and says it truly is time. I rush to her side, take her hand in mine, and put my other hand on her stomach where I was comforted to feel her heart beating still. It was only moments later, however, at the same time I hear others say they aren't seeing her do anything anymore, I have this feeling I can't explain (I really wish I could). As my free hand once again returned to her stomach and found the now-silent spot where her heart had been beating just a few seconds before, it was then that I understood the feeling I couldn’t explain. It was then I realized (Thanks to Jesus) that as I held one of her hands, our blessed Jesus held her other. (Talk about an awesome experience!)

She passed at 11:55 Monday night, January 16th. She was 47 years old. While I missed her so, I felt so relieved that she was no longer suffering.

Twenty-four hours have passed since that time, and I have had more than my share of ups and downs. I need your prayers again as this hurt is more than I had ever known.

My theme verse right now, the words I repeated and prayed over and over again throughout this whole experience is Philippians 4:13 – "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." because I most certainly can not do this without HIM. The song "Homesick" from the group Mercy Me sums everything else up nicely.

God truly is wonderful, and our faith that sees us through such times as these is made strong in our weakness by the substance and evidence He provides through His indescribable grace.

© 2006, Chris Keeton and Soulscape Press. All rights reserved. All material printed on this site is protected by the copyright law of the United States. It may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, displayed, published or broadcast without the prior written permission of Chris Keeton and Soulscape Press, obtainable by writing to soulscape@alltel.net. Altering or removing any trademark, copyright or other notice from copies of the content is not permitted. Any and all portions of material copied from the Soulscape Blog must be properly attributed to Chris Keeton and Soulscape, and cited with original blog web address.

The Pain of an Unknown Tomorrow

All is quiet. Down the hall a door closes softly. Faint sounds come from behind some of those closed doors; a soft groan, a prayer, a television illuminating a darkened room, comfort found in the voices that for some are heard no other time.

In this room, music plays through the speakers of my notebook computer. Across the medium-to-large, spacious room, an air conditioner runs, the fan blowing cool air toward the ceiling, with great effort taking the brutal edge off of unusually warm temperatures. A television in the corner broadcasts a static-y glow from a local station, the volume muted, more of a distraction than anything else.

A few rooms down the dimly lit nursing home corridor, you find my family. One room holds my wife, her sister, and my son. Next door you find my brother-in-law and his girlfriend, hoping for a few hours of rest, weary from not only a newborn daughter, but other things. Across the hall from all of these is my father-in-law; each of us holding vigil with my mother-in-law, by all indications in the final cruel hours of ALS, commonly known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease.

Throughout the last 48 hours, which have shown marked improvement (if there can be such a characterization in this affliction), a true emotional slalom has been endured by the many family and friends called to the bedside to offer kindness, love, a tender farewell. No matter what your denomination, no matter your level of spiritual maturity, questions inevitably abound.

What’s going to happen next? Why her? Why now? Emotions are at a fever pitch: the highs are exuberant, the lows beyond description. With tears, with resignation mingled with the last vestiges of hope, all settle in, knowing not what tomorrow, or even the wee hours of the morning, will bring.

Last night, couches and chairs were converted into makeshift beds. The floor sufficed for a few, which under the best of circumstances would be nearly impossible to foster pleasant dreams. Still, the vigil continued. After the sun rose today, everyone went their separate ways, to return for another evening of watching, of waiting, of praying. More comfortable accommodations were arranged, greatly appreciated by the family. Still, sleep will be a rare commodity on this night.

Earlier in the week, I began an entry (in concept, at least), only to lay it aside to come to my mother-in-law’s bedside. Still, the original idea is apropos for this situation. At this point, I don’t know how long this entry will be, but I trust you will continue with me.

Although I am a relatively young pastor, the experience I’ve gained over the years is far from amateur. Being raised in the home of a minister, having played an active role in similar ‘passing’ situations for more than fifteen years, this scenario of illness, pain, grief and loss is nothing new. Having been at the bedside of dozens of home-goings, praying with and trying to comfort and encourage hundreds of loved ones, nothing prepares you for what you yourself will experience.

Certainly, there are areas that require a kind of ‘professional detachment,’ a way to step back and analyze the situation in comparison to previous experiences. In a way, it helps to have an idea of what’s going to happen, a loose sense of progression, if not timing. But, when it comes to giving consolation or advice, even to my own family, it comes down to something that, at the time, seems infuriating: just pray and wait.

All of us have gotten that nugget of wisdom from our pastor, our mature brother or sister in the faith, and if our personal struggle is severe enough, we’ve all thought, “What kind of advice is that? I’ve already been doing that. That’s no help.”

Still, those three words, pray and wait, sum up not only the right path to take, but also a practical application of what faith really is. We all know our timing is not God’s timing, that His will is impossible to fathom most times, that everything works for our good and His glory (even if we have no concept of how it is for our good), but even then we struggle. This is not necessarily a struggle with doubt or forsaking God, but sometimes we feel that we just need some answers. Seldom, though, do we find answers, and like a popular song says, “When answers aren’t enough, there is Jesus.”

Sometimes we must simply pray and wait; the prayer is that God’s will is done and that His grace will strengthen us as we endure what we must. The wait is also a prayer, but for patience to be still and know that the Lord is God. It’s the last part, the waiting, that causes so many problems, that inspires so much pain, and gives birth to so many unanswered questions. The answers may not even come in this life, but still we wait, confident that in God all things will ultimately work to our favor.

Reading from Doris Kearns Goodwin’s latest work on Abraham Lincoln, Team of Rivals, Goodwin relates a quote from Lincoln that actually illustrates this spiritual direction to pray and wait. Lincoln, referring to a different situation, said, “A man watches his pear-tree day after day, impatient for the ripening of the fruit. Let him attempt to force the process, and he may spoil both fruit and tree. But let him patiently wait, and the ripe pear at length falls into his lap!”

No matter what you’re going through, be it a personal struggle with a particular trial or temptation, a physical ailment, or the loss of someone dear, never forget that in the rush to find meaning and answers to questions that have no earthly explanation, it is easy to lose sight of the awesome power and grace of God, which often do not remove the burden, but which enable us to bear up beneath it. Faith is not always knowing that an explanation or answer will come, but that our trust resides in the One who ultimately does hold the answers (and those of us asking the questions) in the palm of His hand.

When the time is right, be it overnight or in days or weeks, God will bring to an end the long journey which my mother-in-law and family have traversed for so many painful months. Our faith remains firm, despite the many questions and immense pain we feel. Why? Because our faith is not based upon human strength or understanding, but is based upon a higher, holier purpose.

May God’s infinite grace and peace be abundantly poured over each raw and wounded heart, and through our struggles may God’s infinite compassion and mercy be shown to our world.

© 2006, Chris Keeton and Soulscape Press. All rights reserved. All material printed on this site is protected by the copyright law of the United States. It may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, displayed, published or broadcast without the prior written permission of Chris Keeton and Soulscape Press, obtainable by writing to soulscape@alltel.net. Altering or removing any trademark, copyright or other notice from copies of the content is not permitted. Any and all portions of material copied from the Soulscape Blog must be properly attributed to Chris Keeton and Soulscape, and cited with original blog web address.

A New Year's Choice and Hope

(The following is adapted from an article I wrote for the January Edition of my church’s newsletter. It is a challenge to all Christians today, for the New Year. It is not intended to incite a war of words, or even a protracted discourse of religious opinion. It is merely a statement of the personal burden of my own heart. Take it as such. E-mails, blogs, sermons, all lack the time and space necessary for full exploration of a topic, so while there are many minute details that could use further study or explanation, it is impossible to do here.)

John 21:15a -- So when they had eaten breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me more than these?"

There comes a time in everyone’s life when a decision must be made. Jesus asks us the same question He asked Peter. He says to us, “Do you love Me more than these?” When times are going well, when things are smooth and seem orderly, we respond, “Yes, Lord, I certainly love You more than these.” But sometimes a very bad situation comes along, and we must decide if we indeed love the Lord more than anything and anyone.

You might be asking the question, “Well, to what is Jesus referring when He says ‘these?’” For His question to us, the word ‘these’ refers to any thought, any deed, any person, any set of circumstances, anything at all. It is possible for us to fall into the trap of misplaced allegiance. Misplaced allegiance means that you will side with a person or thing or idea before you will side with what is right, what is holy, what is of God.

Loyalty is a noble trait, but if that loyalty makes you choose anyone or anything other than the Lord God, then it is time to abandon that loyalty. Sometimes that is painful for us, but we have a responsibility to choose: what or whom do we love more? What or whom do we put first in our life?

Peter had abandoned Jesus when Jesus needed him most. Later, he denied that he even knew who Jesus was. The reason? Peter chose personal comfort, an attitude of fear, and self above the Man to whom he’d pledged his undying allegiance not long before. Peter had to be confronted, and Jesus asked him point-blank, saying in essence, “Peter, it’s time to choose. It’s now or never. Do you love Me, truly love Me? Is that love deep enough to abandon everything and everyone that will try to come between you and Me? It’s your choice to make. What will you choose?”

Jesus asks that of us today. My responsibility as a pastor is to seek the Lord above all else, and to confront sin head-on in the church, even when it is painful. Occasions arise when the shepherd of the flock must fight off the wolves, and sometimes that is hard to do. Read the story of Achan, in the seventh chapter of Joshua. Achan disobeyed the orders of the Lord, and the entire army and nation of Israel suffered. Joshua fell on his face before the Lord, crying and begging to know what was going on. God gave Joshua the reason for the failure, saying in Joshua 7:13 -- "Get up, sanctify the people, and say, 'Sanctify yourselves for tomorrow, because thus says the LORD God of Israel: "There is an accursed thing in your midst, O Israel; you cannot stand before your enemies until you take away the accursed thing from among you."

Jesus confronted Peter, and He confronts us. Not only is my responsibility to confront the “accursed thing” of sin when it rears its ugly head, but it is the responsibility of every believer to do the same, when they see it in themselves, as Peter did, and when they see it in the Church.

Our love toward Christ, which He is seeking in us, does not invite anger and hatred toward those who choose a different path. It should enable us to love them. This love, though, should demonstrate itself through respect and patience, a gentle leading, not by word but by action. By showing characteristics of malice, irritation or rage, you are not presenting Jesus effectively to the world around you. But make no mistake, God is not a tolerant God; He is still loving, though. (Recall the encounter of Jesus and the woman at the well. Jesus plainly stated the woman’s sin, but lovingly encouraged her to turn her heart toward Him. In essence, He asked her if she, too, would be willing to love Him [and what He represented] more than her sin.)

We are beginning 2006. How can we grow our individual congregations, how can the Lord’s work proceed, how can we be in the right standing with God, if we allow anything to come between us and the Lord? Hard decisions must be made, and if we are unwilling to make them, then we shall surely perish. This perishing is not exclusive to eternity. It also includes falling beneath the weight of those enemies we face on a daily basis: fear, doubt, sin. Now is the time to confront those things detrimental to the cause of God, those things that caused Jesus to suffer and die on that cross for us. You see, life is more than about self. Your life is about others.

Jesus is asking you personally, “Do you love Me more than these?” How will you answer Him today? It is time that we put any and all ungodly ways behind us, it is time we break the cycles of normalcy and the business-as-usual routines we have gone through, in our vain efforts to achieve the elusive grace and peace that only comes from God. Now is the time we must truly begin living for Christ in deed and thought, not just in word. Words are small, temporary, and arrogant. But through action, we prove who and what we really are.

Peter made his choice, and it was right; he told Jesus that he chose Him. It was a lifelong commitment, in private and in public. If you are unwilling to do the same, the Lord cannot use you, which is one of the greatest rewards for the child of God. That God would use such imperfect and weak individuals, and give them His own grace and strength to serve Him, is truly remarkable. But the greatest disservice to yourself, the world, and to God is to live hypocritically, to say with your words what you are unwilling to do with your life. Do not be deceived; God is not mocked. Whatever a man sows, He also will reap. If you sow against God, you will reap God’s wrath. But if you sow with God, you will reap the all the blessings God has to offer.

Do you love Him more than these? Choose this day whom you will serve.


© 2006, Chris Keeton and Soulscape Press. All rights reserved. All material printed on this site is protected by the copyright law of the United States. It may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, displayed, published or broadcast without the prior written permission of Chris Keeton and Soulscape Press, obtainable by writing to soulscape@alltel.net. Altering or removing any trademark, copyright or other notice from copies of the content is not permitted. Any and all portions of material copied from the Soulscape Blog must be properly attributed to Chris Keeton and Soulscape, and cited with original blog web address.

On the Message of Christmas

1 Kings 19:9-12 And there he went into a cave, and spent the night in that place; and behold, the word of the LORD came to him, and He said to him, "What are you doing here, Elijah?" 10 So he said, "I have been very zealous for the LORD God of hosts; for the children of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, torn down Your altars, and killed Your prophets with the sword. I alone am left; and they seek to take my life." 11 Then He said, "Go out, and stand on the mountain before the LORD. ' And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake; 12 and after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice.

Many people are “in search of God.” To most of these, God seems frustratingly impossible to find. Believers and unbelievers alike often find themselves seeking some sort of proof, a spiritual “5 Miles To What You’re Looking For” sign on the path of life. There are questions we all face: How will this turn out? Am I doing the right thing? Why me? God, are you really out there?

We tend to look for God in the grandiose, in natural disasters or what we perceive as the unexplained miraculous. Our human concept of God says that He is a big God, and because of this human concept, we attach human attributes to His presence. We imagine God to reveal Himself the way a celebrity or some other VIP would present themselves: a red carpet, bells and whistles, a big production.

But, you know, even though God is indeed a big God, even though He has all power and glory, He is most often and most clearly made known in the softest and smallest of ways. We expect the earth to move, the heavens to shake with the rolling thunder, fireworks and cold chills and emotion. God can make Himself known in those ways; He has before. But the most effective, the most meaningful ways are far, far different.

Elijah, in a fearful and weak and all-too-human moment, came before the Lord seeking reassurance, seeking strength, just seeking the Lord. What was humanly expected, happened: a powerful wind, strong enough to break the rocks into pieces, blew through the mountains before Elijah. But the Lord was not in the wind. The earth shook, the very foundation beneath Elijah’s feet rolled to show its own weakness; yet the Lord was not present in the earthquake. Nor was His presence in the fire that passed by, burning with a fervent heat all that could be consumed. But then in a moment of peace came a still, small voice. Here, then, was the Lord.

For centuries, Israel waited for their Messiah, but their Messiah never came. They looked for an exalted king, a military conqueror, another Caesar. Many had come in the name of violence and power, but the Lord was nowhere to be found. Then, in a moment of peace came the presence of God. Very few people noted the day as anything special, as anything out of the ordinary. Yet from this day forward, the world would never be the same.

Out of the way, hidden among so many travelers and their hectic schedules, lost within the struggles and trials of so many individuals seeking an elusive hope, the Lord God became flesh to dwell among us, to bring light and life to all those who would accept Him. The loudest statement God ever made to the world was spoken in the small cry of a newborn Baby, lying in a manger.

Throughout His life, Jesus proved that the Lord says more with less; He was the most forceful when the meekest; He was strongest when He was weakest. This should be the lesson for us all as we search for the Lord. Seek not after the winds, the earthquakes, the fires. Seek after the still, small voice of God.

That is the lesson of Christmas: the Lord can be found, if only you know where (and how) to look. God is great, there is no doubt. But God’s greatness is most often seen and heard and felt not in colossal displays, but in those quiet, personal moments. This Christmas, allow the still, small voice of God move within your heart. Allow the silent night of Christ’s birth speak volumes to your soul. Contemplate just how miraculous, how meaningful, and how earth-shattering that one tiny life would be to all generations.

The birth of Jesus is more than a virgin mother, more than a stable, a star, and shepherds. It is God speaking directly to us all, from the loftiest to the lowliest. What does the Lord have to say to you? To me? To the world? Listen for His still, small voice. Let your soul listen to the message of the birth of Jesus, not just the story of that birth. Don’t try to fit God into your own understanding. Allow your understanding to be molded and shaped by, to be receptive to the voice of the Lord, and you will find what you’re seeking.

May you have a blessed Christmas. My prayers are with you.

© 2005, Chris Keeton and Soulscape Press. All rights reserved. All material printed on this site is protected by the copyright law of the United States. It may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, displayed, published or broadcast without the prior written permission of Chris Keeton and Soulscape Press, obtainable by writing to soulscape@alltel.net. Altering or removing any trademark, copyright or other notice from copies of the content is not permitted. Any and all portions of material copied from the Soulscape Blog must be properly attributed to Chris Keeton and Soulscape, and cited with original blog web address.

All I Want For Christmas Is A Mutually Acceptable Expression Of A Non-Specific and Non-Offensive Holiday Observance

I sit contemplating a blog entry that in some respects hasn’t much to do with Christmas, but daily seems to grow closer to it in relation to some current controversies. This relationship has been seen in various forms over recent months and years, and most especially this season. While trying not to overly mix religion and politics, it now seems inevitable, and I feel I must state my view. Agree with me, don’t agree with me. It’s entirely up to you.

We do indeed live in a plural society, a hodgepodge of race, creed, and opinion. The freedom enjoyed in America is truly coveted throughout the world. But such a society is not and should not be an arena for what I will call “warm-and-fuzzy-ism,” which is defined as the movement to make every person, everywhere, feel all warm and fuzzy, no matter what it takes. Recently it has become almost fashionable to contest anything and everything that might be considered the least bit offensive to as little as one or two people, even to the point of being ridiculous. I mean, I find it very hard to believe that there are people who can't sleep at night knowing an 8x10 copy of the Ten Commandments is hanging on a wall at the courthouse.

As “warm-and-fuzzy-ism” extends its ever-widening arc over the citizenry, nothing is, shall we say, sacred. For years a handful of people have embarked on a quest of social equality, claiming the rights of the little man, defense of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, all the while doing more damage to the thing they hold most dear by misinterpreting it.

The so-called “separation of church and state” clause was never meant to keep God out of government, but to keep government out of God. By that, I mean that this separation was designed not to eliminate any and all public religious references, but to prevent a state-mandated religious creed. Yet over the years, and so much the more in recent days, countless attempts have been made to remove all mention of God and Christianity from the public arena. The reason? Someone might be offended.

Oh, my stars! Quick! Someone call the self-esteem police.

I firmly believe every person has value, that each is entitled to their own opinion. But to honestly believe that every little thing that a person finds even slightly objectionable should be run out of the public conscience on a non-denominational, all-inclusive rail is, frankly, the height of absurdity. If you put five people in a room together, within a few minutes you will begin to find disagreements, differences of opinions, in any number of topics. That doesn’t mean you outlaw conversation.

By claiming to defend the beliefs and rights of those who do not agree with “In God We Trust,” “One Nation Under God,” and “Merry Christmas,” by trying to remove said references, are not the rights of those in support of these phrases being trampled under foot?

If “Merry Christmas” has become taboo, then so must references to Ramadan, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and Easter. These are religious, you say. They, too, have no place in the modern lexicon of America. Okay. Get rid of them however you want: executive mandate, judicial legislation, religious witch-hunt. But if I must succumb to this ridiculous philosophical tirade, then you must succumb to mine.

I am not a big fan of the heat of summer, and am deeply offended that I cannot enjoy Independence Day without roasting in the July sun. Therefore, I propose to do away with Independence Day. In addition to this, I feel that the rights and self-esteem of those not enjoying America’s liberty are taunted by the celebration of freedom on July 4. So, I move that all outward displays of patriotism and national pride be suspended for the common good.

Feel free to light a sparkler and fire cracker next Independence Day . . .just do it indoors, in the privacy of a dark closet, so as not to offend anyone.

And while we’re at it, I am allergic to some trees. I move to abolish Arbor Day, and remove the disgraceful public display of foliage from all federal and private lands, municipal parks and mall food courts frequented by those of us who suffer so greatly under the thumb of our woodland overlords.

The blind cannot enjoy the beauty of the sunshine as we, the sighted, are able. In an effort to extend the same rights and courtesies to them, I move that we abolish daylight.

And finally, there are many people who will be making their New Year’s resolution to diet and lose weight. To help them maintain their positive image of self-worth, so as not to succumb to the temptations of food and drink, I suggest we do away with all forms of sustenance.

As you can see, this is absurd, as this bit of hyperbole was intended. We live in a big country, and it is impossible to totally level every playing field. Saying “Merry Christmas” is not force-feeding religion on anyone, nor is it when saying “One Nation Under God” in the pledge to our flag, a flag for which so many have bled and died so that we have the right to bring such unreasonable controversies into the mainstream.

You may not agree with me, and I may not agree with you. Get over it. Celebrate the birth of Christ or not, it won’t kill you to hear “Merry Christmas.” Just nod and be on your way. Don’t make a federal case out of it (literally). There are far too many real problems to worry about than this. And besides, with violent crime, hunger and poverty, is God really so terrible that we have to focus on removing Him first?

I will post again around Christmas. Until then, enjoy the season.

And MERRY CHRISTMAS!

© 2005, Chris Keeton and Soulscape Press. All rights reserved. All material printed on this site is protected by the copyright law of the United States. It may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, displayed, published or broadcast without the prior written permission of Chris Keeton and Soulscape Press, obtainable by writing to soulscape@alltel.net. Altering or removing any trademark, copyright or other notice from copies of the content is not permitted. Any and all portions of material copied from the Soulscape Blog must be properly attributed to Chris Keeton and Soulscape, and cited with original blog web address.

Growing, Growing, Grown

I don’t know if it’s the closing of yet another fast-paced year causing me to ruminate on the topic of becoming mature, or acutely observing the absence of that characteristic in those who should possess it, but I have had this topic on my mind for a couple of weeks. The views expressed herein are the commentator’s alone, and do not necessarily reflect those of anyone else in particular.

I think everyone has a different view of what it means to ‘grow up.’ For some, it might be reaching the milestones: getting your driver’s license, voting for the first time, turning 21 or turning 30. For others, it might be achieving a certain recognition or status or position. Whatever it might be, we all grow up, or hope to grow up.

Compared to some, I’ve been grown up for a long time. Still, I have wondered about just how “grown up” I was. Realization came just last week. I discovered that, at least for me, you know you’ve grown up when It’s A Wonderful Life makes you cry like a baby. I’ve seen my grandfather and uncles watch that movie year after year, chins all a-quiver as the citizens of Bedford Falls come to the aid of George Bailey. Then as George reads Clarence’s words written at the beginning of Tom Sawyer, realizing that, “No man is a failure who has friends,” I would glance over and see a Kleenex moment: suitable for a Norman Rockwell, Saturday Evening Post cover.

“You’ve seen that a thousand times!” I would say in the stunned, embarrassed disgust of youth. “Why do you cry EVERY time? It’s not like you didn’t know it was coming.” Now that I’m older, have a child, know more of what life’s about . . .I still can’t explain it. But I know it now affects me the same way.

There are interesting, amusing and varying ways we discover we’ve grown up, and at some point we discover that growing up is not as fun as it seemed it would be on the young end of life. With growing up comes grown-up responsibilities, worries and problems, most of which we could do without.

I speak not of what many may consider the sure signs of age. A friend observed some of these signs in a recent birthday blog entry of his own. I submit a portion of his observation on his 29th birthday (Happy Birthday, Jason!):

"Jenny pulled 12 white hairs out of my head before I made her stop . . . I have crows feet . . . I can grow a beard . . . All my weight is in my belly. My belt buckle hurts me . . .30 is 365 much-shorter-than-they-used-to-be days away. 30 is grown up."

Jason goes on to say that “29 is better than 23,” despite the physical changes, because with age comes a greater awareness and understanding, a greater maturity if you will, than was possible at younger ages, despite what was perceived at 23.

I’ve certainly had to admit, rather painfully and grudgingly, that at those pivotal moments of my early life when I made the “mature, right decision,” I hadn’t the faintest inkling of what the “mature, right decision” truly was. But for all those moments past, I now have a better appreciation of what maturity means, and have drawn a little better bead on what decisions are called for in a given situation.

I still have a lot to learn. (This admission is, in my opinion, one of the first steps to continued maturing. If you can’t say this, you’re nowhere near mature.)

What is necessary in life, Christian or otherwise, is that we must learn from our past. We must mature. Recall what the Apostle Paul said in 1 Corinthians 13:11: When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. We should still hold fast to the excitement of life, the sense of awe and wonder, the expectation and hope of youth; we should still have fun and enjoy life, but we should “grow up,” in the sense that we should not just take from life, but contribute to it in a meaningful way.

So, as I fumble for my remote, I reach for the box of tissues. I press PLAY to watch Bert the Cop and Ernie the Cab-driver. I look forward that scurvy little spider Mr. Potter, the wonderful old Building and Loan, and Zuzu’s petals. I think what makes life so wonderful is that while we’re here, we can make a difference in at least one person’s life, even if it’s our own.

Let the tears come. I’m mature enough to let them fall.

Atta boy, Clarence.


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