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Last week I went with my daughter Brittany to see War Horse. Brittany told Caleb after, “If a person can watch that movie and not be moved, something is wrong with them.” This wont be a spoiler, but there is … Continue reading
Bob Dylan’s Positively 4th Street has long been a favorite of mine. Partly because it’s so 
in your face and partly because of a unique place it holds in my relationship with my sister Jodi. There’s a line in the song where Bob says, “You say you’ve lost your faith, but that’s not where it’s at… you had no faith to lose and you know it.”
I’ve not written or posted an entry in over a year. No one has been clamoring for my words of wisdom in the absence. 2011 beat the crap out of me… no that’s not right, some would say I’m still full of it. It’s more like, it beat me, then kicked me, then threw me out through a window, told lies, maligned my character and when I was utterly humiliated, screamed at me, “Don’t come back or you’ll get worse!” I hate it, but that’s the kind of year it’s been. In terms of health, family, finances, work, church life and spiritual strength—life sucked.
(I must interject here that I realize there are many who had it much worse than I did. I don’t mean to sound otherwise. I know this is a whining rant of sorts. But it has purpose so if you’ll forebear, I will get to the point in short order. Now—back to Bob.)
I’m once again living in the echo of Peter’s life. Yes my faith has been challenged and diminished there is no doubt. I feel like God let me down and of course I feel I let him down. The thing that bugs me about it is that my failures are to be expected. If you know me at all, you know this to be true.
On the other hand—I don’t want to see God fail to come through for his own kids. My faith is strong in understanding and believing that he is God and he gets to do what he wants with his own stuff. I realize that he doesn’t seek my approval before he does things like let his own kids fail, struggle, fight illness only to die and beg for jobs that they don’t get. And yet, it angers me beyond my ability to be sane that he does this. I don’t think I’m right and he is wrong. It’s simply beyond my understanding and the reach of my little faith.
I don’t know who Bob was singing about, but I do have some faith to lose and though it’s not gone, it’s really weak and hurting. I don’t want all God’s people to have unending blessings with never a bad day. But I’d like his kids to win, to get the job, to get well, to prosper in their soul. Let’s see wicked people in churches be exposed and expelled, instead of good people being lied about and cast aside. How about the good people stand up and throw out corrupt elders. The bad guys win enough of the time.
I will love the Lord till I die. I may not preach, may not teach, may not pray much and might not talk much about him simply because I just don’t get it and feel foolish to even try. I’ve bet my existence that he is faithful. I am his and my soul is safe in him ‘here I stand—I can do no other.’
telemicus out
I love the movie Field of Dreams. There are several scenes that I think speak to feelings and emotions we all share. But the scene where Ray ‘kidnaps’ Terrance to the ball game is one that I particularly enjoyed. They are talking about life and the experience of involvement in the 60s and of those who still lived with part of their heart back there. So Rays asks, “What do you want?”
Terrance launches into this little piece of dialogue. “I want them to stop looking to me for answers, begging me to speak again, write again, be a leader. I want them to start thinking for themselves. I want my privacy.” The funny thing was, Ray wasn’t asking what he wanted from people, he was asking what Terrance wanted from the concession stand. So Terrance says, “Oh. A dog and a beer.”
As I see it, there are two problems that happen in these situations. We may answer a question they weren’t asking, or we give counsel they don’t need. We too often try to fix things in the lives of friends and loved ones that we’re not qualified to address. It’s as if we stayed at a Holiday Inn Express and that makes us capable of the soul surgery they need. Sometimes they need a simple answer to a simple question and instead they get a speech in answer to a question they weren’t asking. The broken heart isn’t always looking for all the answers to all the questions—it just needs to hear that you care. The broken spirit may not need you to repair it, but rather to sustain it.
So is there a place for thorough, wise and biblical counsel? Of course there is. And if a person asks for that we need to offer counsel as best we can. But sometimes the best answer is not a sermon, a lecture, pop psychology, a dose of Oprah with a side order of Dr. Phil, a book to read or a tape to listen to; sometimes the answer is as simple as, “A dog and a beer.”
It’s a noble thing to give people what they are asking for while knowing that they need so much more. Jesus knew this too. He said, “I have much more to say to you, more than you can now bear” (John 16:12). So when the ones who trust you with their cares and wounds share openly their great fears and the turbulence of their hearts, give them what they are really asking for. This may open the door to meeting their great need later on.
telemicus out
Does honor still matter? I had jury duty this week. They introduced the Judge as, honorable. The people in the court room who talked to him called him, ‘your honor.’ As a result I studied (contemplated) on the notion of honor a little bit. I don’t know if the judge is honorable or not. Perhaps it’s the position more than the man, although Id prefer the man make the position honorable I think.
Walter Lippmann, the twentieth century writer said, “He has honor if he holds himself to an ideal of conduct though it is inconvenient, unprofitable, or dangerous to do so.” While this makes sense to me, it seems far too rare an event. I’m not sure that people know the ‘ideal of conduct’ that Lippmann is speaking about. Perhaps I don’t. I’ve many times said or done things that, given the opportunity for a do-over, Id certainly take advantage. We should be teaching proprieties more. A proper base of behavioral propriety is essential to the establishment of honor.
Last week I saw again the movie Rob Roy on television. Robert MacGregor was a patriot of Scotland in the early 1700s. In the movie, an evil man robbed MacGregor and testified falsely making him an outlaw. Upon securing his freedom, he directly secured the opportunity to satisfy his honor by fighting the man who robbed him and accused him falsely. He told his sons, “Honor is a gift a man gives himself.”
We’ve seen a lot of examples of politicians who have committed ethical wrongs. They are sometimes ‘censured’—this is little more than popping a dog on the nose with a news paper. We do not uphold honor when we devalue ethics and integrity. Ministers caught in marital affairs or financial compromises sacrifice not only the honor of their position (that is to say the honor of ministry, not honor given them by others), they also dishonor the institution they serve. Athletes, who fake fouls, contend they made a catch when they didn’t, or cuss at the umpire; these are without honor.
And as regular people, this ‘ideal of conduct’ is not simply good manners. I think its dignity in speech, its integrity, its kindness and courtesy. At over fifty years of age, I’m still learning and trying to become a person I should have been from my youth. My political bloviating, while genuine and from the heart, has not been in line with propriety and that ideal of conduct that I would choose in my better moments. Does this mean I’ll never strike out and throw down some vitriolic opinion that riles people… probably not. But it’s better to be committed to what is right and fail sometimes, than to be committed to wrong and succeed.
So may I combine the two good thoughts that I have borrowed, “Honor is a gift a man gives himself when he holds himself to an ideal of conduct though it is inconvenient, unprofitable, or dangerous to do so.”
As Michaleen says in the movie, The Quiet Man, “Proprieties at all times… if you please.”
telemicus out
We are in a series of lessons at church called, The Master’s Touch. It’s a study in Mark. I assign my son Caleb a chapter to read each week and he is supposed to read it several times during the week. (crazy to assign your own kid reading, I know!) So a couple of weeks back I text Caleb and said, ‘did you do your reading in Mark 4?’ He says back, ‘yeah, a guy goes out throws seed around. Some lands on the path, some on rocks, some on good soil and some in the weeds – I read it.’
Later that night I followed up and asked, “So in the story about the farmer, what is the seed?” He said, “People?” Then I explained that the seed is God’s word. Each of the places where the seed landed represents people. I told him, “The ‘path’ is where the person’s head or heart is just so hardened that God’s word can’t get in and so it eventually just goes away. The weeds are like people who accept God’s word, but life is so busy and they have so much going, that it just chokes out God’s word completely. The rocky soil is the people that take the word in right away, but the roots never get too deep and when tough times come, the word just dies out. The good soil is the people who hear God’s word, accept it and it makes a difference in their lives.”
Then Caleb says, “I got it.” Then I asked, “So what type of soil are you?” And he looked up in his mind and pondered like a wise man for a few seconds and then said, “I’m mostly good…but with a few rocks.”
That’s’ my boy! I love his answer because it’s honest and because it’s where most of us who love God 
and want to please him, live. We have a desire for the Word and we allow it to affect our lives, but we realize that sometimes we are spiritually shallow. We know that we could do better at loving and serving. We understand that our sin harms the relationship we have with our Father and we regret when our love for him falls short.
But every now and then… in the sidewalk of our tiny souls, where a narrow little crack opens due to forces at work that we never see, a shoot grows up through that crack and finds life, because down deep, our soil is mostly good.
telemicus out
Did you see the 2005 movie Cinderella Man? It was a good movie, sometimes hurt the heart, but it was good. It’s a true story about a fighter during the depression era named James Braddock. He falls on hard times, there’s no work, he can’t pay his bills and can’t afford the medicine one of his kids needs. A friend talks him into getting back in the ring to fight. Braddock is well past his prime. He’s a ‘has been.’ But he’s not fighting for fame or glory – he’s fighting because he loves his family.
In one of the most heart wrenching scenes of the movie this former well known and financially successful man has to go and seek public assistance. It’s a jab to his pride and right hook to his manhood at the same time. His fortune, like many in that day, was lost in the stock market crash. It wasn’t his fault he ended up in this place. It’s simply how life happened to him.
As he began to fight again, something strange happened. He won. He worked up through the ranks and reached number 2, earning him a shot at the title against a scary champ named Max Baer. He fought and won. He returned his family to security. One of my favorite scenes, he returns to the public assistance office and with humility and quiet grace, paid back what they had given him. The clerk was stunned and not sure what to do.
I heard last week about a lady who called a church in her town and explained that as a child she had gone to church with them. She is now a mom and her family needed some help with clothing and school supplies for her kids. The church met with her and helped with her needs. Some months later, she called the church and explained that she had requested and received help from the church. Then she asked, “Is there some way that I am supposed to pay that back?” The man she spoke to assured her that it wasn’t necessary and invited her to once again visit the church.
Whether we are talking about money, wise counsel, comfort or just a simple act of kindness, it’s noble to realize that we owe a debt and to desire, when possible, to settle up. Sometimes we need to pay it back, sometimes to pay it forward. Either way… if you owe a debt, to the degree that you’re able, settle up.
telemicus out
People have been saying it to me for years, “Are you mad? You look mad or upset about something.” Almost always I say, “No, I’m not mad, I just look this way.” But the truth is those who bear the burdens of care for others are often weighed down by that care. We don’t hate the burden. It is the price of love. You can not love your family and be blasé about circumstances that threaten it. You can not love your country and sit passively while it’s leaders enact policies that will harm it. You can not love the church and ignore the actions of ‘christians’ who betray the Lord who gave his life for it. You can not love God and wink at the things that are an offense to him.
My therapist friend would say this is my ‘black and white’ thinking. It creates problems for me. But the truth is that some things are black and white. Some things are wrong. Some things are bad. Strong feelings about negative things lead to an attitude and countenance that is stern or fierce. We do not look fierce out of deep anger, although anger sometimes is on the surface. The intense look and fierce demeanor are an expression of concern based on love.
I love with great passion; my family, the church, the Word, God the Father, Jesus the Son, God’s Spirit the Comforter, America, the Constitution, sports, classic Rock, Missouri, Mexican food and Mom’s banana pudding (and alliteration sometimes.)
When any of these things is maligned, compromised, betrayed, wrongly criticized, endangered or needlessly harmed, I am concerned and sometimes angry. Not because I hate, but because I love. It’s no fun to be frustrated. In the words of many moms I’ve heard, “Why do I care so much?” It’s because we love. Are there people who love just as passionately as the fierce people and yet have a joyful countenance and happy demeanor? Yes there are. So how do we become ‘happily concerned’ without looking fierce?
I don’t know.
It should be noted; not all fierce people are that way because they love. It’s not alright to beat your kids or your wife (or husband) and claim love is the motivation. We should not seek to justify bad behavior by saying that love is the motivation. I want to be known as a happy and loving person. I’m trying to do better. I fail at it a lot. But I wont accept the tag of being a hater or a horses a** because of stands I take or even fierce comments. I may say the wrong thing, but my motivation and concerns are noble at the core. Those of us who are sometimes misunderstood appreciate the people who believe in us even when we are fierce or not living in one of our better moments with the face of a cherub.
telemicus out
The lady in this picture is my mo
m’s mom (those two kids are my cousin’s.) We called her Nen; certainly one of the sweetest souls that ever walked the Earth. I sat with Nen on the front porch of her house one hot summer afternoon in that two-seat gliding porch swing you see in the picture. Nen had a big mixing bowl in front of her and her apron was full of fresh green beans from the garden.
She picked up a long green bean, broke the ends off and then broke it in half. When she broke them it sounded like dried twigs snapping. I said, “Nen, why are you breaking the beans?” And right there she taught me a lesson that I still have in my heart. It’s been more than forty years since we spent that afternoon on the porch.
Nen said, “Mikie (nobody is allowed to call me that but her) it makes them cook up better.” I asked why and she tried to explain it. She invited me to break some too, to help her out. I did a few and then I picked up a bean and tried to break the end off and it wouldn’t snap. So I tried the other end. No luck. I folded it in half, still wouldn’t break. Nen just sat and laughed at me. I was working so hard on something that was never going to change. She said, “It’s a bad bean Mikie, throw it away.”
We sometimes fail to get rid of things that should be set aside. It could be bad music, vile comedians, destructive habits and even toxic people. Not to be harsh, but sometimes we need to end relationships that are not healthy. We need to have the courage to put away those things that hinder our efforts to live good and holy lives.
In the Old Book, Jesus said, “The kingdom of heaven is like a net that was let down into the lake and caught all kinds of fish. When it was full, the fishermen pulled it up on the shore. Then they sat down and collected the good fish in baskets, but threw the bad away. This is how it will be at the end of the age.” Matthew 13:47-50
Jesus taught, (and Nen did too), that the good should be separated from the bad. The bad is to be thrown away. What are the ‘bad beans’ in your life? Finding the good beans requires examination. It takes wisdom to know good from bad. It takes courage to make the choice. Be wise and brave.
telemicus out
I started to pray last night. It jumped right out of my heart, this request of the Father. Before it could bounce off the ceiling, I snagged it out of the air and said to myself, “You cant ask for that.” You see, I’ve prayed for certain things for many years, and for many years God has been silent on these matters. But I guess the prayer leapt out of my heart before my brain had a chance to slam the lid on it.
Sometimes we don’t want to ask because of how often He says, ‘No.’ Other times we don’t ask because we don’t feel that we have a right to ask anything based on what we know is happening in our own hearts and lives. I’d love to tell you it doesn’t matter and that God wants to hear our requests even when our faith is weak and our love has failed. It’d be great if our doubts and struggles didn’t have an affect on how God views our prayers, and maybe that’s the case. But it doesn’t feel that way to me.
I have great convictions about your soul and your faith and your relationship with God. My counsel to you would be . . . Ask! Let your heart lead your prayers. As long as it weighs on your heart, release it to God and trust that He can handle not only the requests, but the condition of the person making the request.
However, when it comes to mine, well, I know me too well. I know how many times I’ve begged Him and how many times He’s said ‘No’. I know the condition of my own little soul and the shallowness of my frail character. I know the weakness of my flesh and the corruptness of my heart (on my less than quality days.) So, what to do? My heart loves God—serves Him and it wants to ask for His blessing in many things. But it rarely feels worthy of even asking Him for daily bread.
There’s an old hymn, (I really wish one of you musical types would update this) it’s called, Father Hear the Prayer We Offer. It’s beautiful poetry but the last stanza gives some direction that is wise and poignant.
Let our path be bright or dreary,
Storm or sunshine be our share;
May our souls in hope unweary
Make Thy work our ceaseless prayer.
telemicus out
Most people love their dad—I get that. Sometimes they forget to tell you why or they don’t have a chance. My dad is Jonathan Taylor, we call him Pop. The older I get, the more people I meet whose lives have been changed because Pop passed through their sojourn and proclaimed something of his character, the nature of God, the mission of the Kingdom and a love that he rarely spoke but felt deep within his stoic countenance. He was born in northeast Oklahoma. He worked as an iron worker by trade, preached the gospel and served several churches at God’s call. Now he drives a bus and spends his time loving my mom.
Growing up I remember his thundering voice. Scott and I have talked on occasion about wishing we had inherited that voice. But more than the tone, the message Pop conveyed to us was one that always called us higher. He challenged us to have integrity, to strive for excellence, to go the extra mile and to be noble in character. He set standards that seemed unreachable and then proved we could. I told him once that I couldn’t do something… he had me write ‘cant’ on a piece of paper and go bury it in the back yard. He told me often, “Cant is dead!”
I do not know, God knows, how many men are preaching the Gospel because of his influence. It’s a lot. Just this week a friend wrote me and expressed that he preaches because dad inspired his passion and God called him to it. Dad’s spiritual sojourn has been ahead of his peers for most of his life. He taught the active vibrant role of the Holy Spirit when most in our fellowship were still doubting it had a role at all. He focused on a working knowledge of the Bible and somehow instilled in me a love for the Bible that I do not even understand. I was a student of the Bible even as a boy. The world is different because of Pop’s ministry.
These are his hands. They’ve worked hard, served, and loved. Now they drive, lift grand-kids and ‘piddle around.’ He can be hard headed. He knows what he believes and holds to it with tenacity. But in recent years, he listens better and asks more questions. He’s gentler now and more tender. He expresses love more easily and tears come without restraint. He’s always been a softy, but didn’t show that side very often. (I recently found a picture of him in a crowd of people, he was sitting with a child pretending to talk on a toy phone—the old softy.) He’s growing as a person though he has some years on him. Don’t tell me people cant change. I’ve watched him become a different person in many ways over the years.
I cant tell you everything about him here, but this one thing I want to say. His kids love him. His friends love him and are the richer for knowing him. Pop plans to live to be 100. He has a thing he says that I adopted that goes; “Write this down wherever you write things down so you don’t forget.” Pop says this about his spiritual journey… “I don’t know everything or even most things, but I know this; I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever!” So to my dad I just want to say, “I am one of the many who have been inspired by you and I’m honored to call you Pop. Happy Father’s Day!
telemicus out
