Multitiming is a word that is not recognized by my spellchecker. However, I think that multitiming should be given official status. The word is built just like the word “multitasking—doing or trying to do more than one thing at the same time.”
I would provisionally define multitiming as follows: “multitiming, noun; the tendency to drag the past and/or the future into the present.”
You can see from the definition that this is a very common tendency. That is probably why multitiming is not an official word. Who needs a special word for something that is so normal, so human?
However, is dragging the past or future into the present really so normal? Or is such action just the usual human reality? Sometimes we get confused, thinking that what is usual is also normal. Worse yet, we may convince ourselves and one another that the usual is inevitable, or even good.
Now, I will admit that multitiming can be a good, healthy thing. Remembering the past and learning from it is good. So is anticipating and preparing for the future. If living in the present means ignoring the past and the future, then living in the present is pathological. Maybe I need to revise my provisional definition of multitiming in order to recognize its positive possibilities. Here goes! “multitiming, noun; the tendency to bring the past and/or the future into the present, either for good or for ill.”
However, far too often, I am not practicing healthy multitiming. I am not learning from the past or planning appropriately for the future. Instead, I am wallowing in the past and worrying about the future. I have had this tendency since I can remember. Covid-19 has accentuated this tendency (especially the worry about the future), but this virus did not create my unhealthy relationship with the past and future.
I have noticed that the people whom I know the best and respect the most are people who practice good multitiming, and avoid the bad. They are in touch with the past, but they are not anchored to it. Such healthy people anticipate and plan, but they don’t terrify themselves with dystopian videos of the future. And such people live in the present, doing what they need to do in this moment. They also generally enjoy the present moment. Healthy multitimers are living Serenity Prayers: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
What sort of multitimer will you and I choose to be today?
I have this computer, and it won’t shut off—ever. No, it won’t shut off, even when I want it to shut off. It is called my brain. I suppose that it would not be an altogether good thing if it did shut off.
However, when I’m thinking resentful thoughts, or self-pitying thoughts, or I-can’t-do-this thoughts, or lustful thoughts, I really would like to shut off my computer. But I can’t. So, I try not to think those thoughts. Never works, never has. Never will, I suppose. In fact, thinking that I am not going to think certain thoughts is a failproof method for continuing to think those very thoughts.
What I can do is to substitute other thoughts for thoughts that I don’t want to think. Yes, I know it sounds simple. I guess, in a way, it is simple. At least, it is simple to say. Practicing such mental substitution is, however, not so simple.
On the other hand, the old saying “Practice makes perfect” comes to mind. I don’t know about perfect, but practice certainly makes better. So, I am hereby drawing a line in the sand. I am turning in my resignation from my job of not thinking certain thoughts. I have a new job now. I am in the thought-substitution business.
I’m hiring. Care to apply?
Matt. 22:1 And again Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying, 2 “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son, 3 and sent his servants to call those who were invited to the wedding feast, but they would not come. 4 Again he sent other servants, saying, ‘Tell those who are invited, “See, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready. Come to the wedding feast.”’ 5 But they paid no attention and went off, one to his farm, another to his business, 6 while the rest seized his servants, treated them shamefully, and killed them. 7 The king was angry, and he sent his troops and destroyed those murderers and burned their city. 8 Then he said to his servants, ‘The wedding feast is ready, but those invited were not worthy. 9 Go therefore to the main roads and invite to the wedding feast as many as you find.’ 10 And those servants went out into the roads and gathered all whom they found, both bad and good. So the wedding hall was filled with guests.
Matt. 22:11 “But when the king came in to look at the guests, he saw there a man who had no wedding garment. 12 And he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment?’ And he was speechless. 13 Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot and cast him into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ 14 For many are called, but few are chosen.” (English Standard Version)
Now, my initial response to the ending of this parable (the wedding guest without his tuxedo—or was it without his mask?) is, “Not fair!” After all, the poor man had been rounded up, along with many others, on short notice. He hadn’t had time to get cleaned up or try to retrieve his best suit from the cleaner’s. Maybe he was so poor that he didn’t even have a suit!
But this is where a little background knowledge is helpful. In those days, wedding guests did not provide their own fancy clothes, at least not for fancy banquets. Instead, the one inviting them provided a nice change of clothes for all his guests. Since this is, according to Jesus, the king’s wedding banquet for his son, I think that we can safely assume that the king would have provided the proper clothing. Apparently, the guest in his street clothes knew this as well, since it says that he had nothing to say.
Jesus’ parables were not nice, little, straightforward, simple sermon illustrations. Rather, they were subversive stories which often stood reality on its head. They challenge and baffle and poke and probe. Sometimes, they haunt.
However, my own take on this parable of Jesus is twofold. The first takeaway for me is the thought that God (represented in this story by the king) provides everything that his guests need. This is not a potluck, where each person brings something to the table. Apparently, God’s kingdom feast is for people who have nothing to bring, people who need to have everything provided for them.
This might seem like good news. I believe that ultimately it is. But it is also bad news. We all want to believe that we are somehow worthy of being invited into God’s kingdom. The bad news is that we are not worthy. Really. We’re not.
And now for the even worse news: If we refuse to take what God so graciously and abundantly provides, we will have nothing to say in our own defense. C.S. Lewis says that, those who wind up in hell are successful rebels to the very end. They have said, “No,” to God. The door to hell is locked from the inside.
So, I wanted to end this post with something uplifting. Here goes!
If you and I have nothing to offer God but our own sinful selves, we are invited. If we can’t bring him any worthy gifts, or even wear the right clothes, we are welcomed. If we can only humbly and gratefully accept God’s lavish love, we need to come in, sit down at the banquet table, and dig in. In the final analysis, maybe the only thing we’ll need to say (or be able to say) at the King’s banquet is “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
Have you ever known someone who was radiant? I’ve known a few people who were like that.
The word “radiant” is often reserved for brides and new mothers. However, most of the radiant people I’ve known were older folks. Many of them had not lived easy lives, but they knew God. To the best of their ability, they humbly followed God. To be in their presence was a delight.
E. Stanley Jones spoke of a young lady who looked as if she had swallowed a lightbulb. Yes!
The psalmist says that those who look to the LORD are radiant (Psalm 34:5). Derek Kidner has some good thoughts about the Hebrew word that is translated “radiant.”
“Radiant is a word found again in Isaiah 60:5, where it describes a mother’s face lighting up at the sight of her children, long given up for lost. Using other terms, Exodus 34:29 tells of Moses’ face shining as he came down from the mountain, and 2 Corinthians 3:18 relates this to a Christian’s growing likeness to his Lord. In other words, radiance is delight but also glory: a transformation of the whole person.”
Did you catch that? Radiance is “. . . a transformation of the whole person.”
Of course, such radiant transformation does not happen without some cooperation from us. This psalm tells us that we need to seek the LORD, call on God, take refuge in God.
However, this psalm also tells us that we must fear the LORD. The psalmist even tells us what he means by “fearing the LORD.”
Psa. 34:11 Come, O children, listen to me;
I will teach you the fear of the LORD.
12 What man is there who desires life
and loves many days, that he may see good?
13 Keep your tongue from evil
and your lips from speaking deceit.
14 Turn away from evil and do good;
seek peace and pursue it. (English Standard Version)
What we say and what we seek—if we are saying and seeking the right things—helps us to become radiant. Makes you want to be more careful about what you say and seek, doesn’t it?
“No matter how far you’ve traveled on the road of recovery, the ditch is still the same distance away.” (From a 12-step friend who got it from another wise recovering person.)
“But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.” (The Apostle Paul, 1 Corinthians 9:27, English Standard Version)
When this covid-19 plague got going, I stopped. I stopped going, that is. I didn’t drive for weeks on end. There was nowhere to drive that I wanted to go. When I finally drove for the first time in a long while, I noticed that the ditch seemed closer than usual.
Well, no, that can’t be right! I was just a little rusty in my driving skills, and a bit more prone to weaving. The truth is that the ditch is in the same place it was before the pandemic began.
Now that I’m driving a bit more, it is important to remember that the ditch is still in the same place. And no matter how far I drive, it is still going to be about the same distance from the highway. And that means that the ditch is going to be close to the road. I still need to be careful. I still need to pay attention, and not speed.
So it is with life. So it is with my life as a Christ-follower. So it is with my recovery from addiction. Confident is not far from cocky, and cocky is not far from the ditch. Sometimes I think that cocky is the ditch.
Of course, being uptight can also land me in the ditch. If I get too anxious about life, following Christ, being a good husband, or addiction recovery, I am likely to oversteer. And a person who oversteers is an accident just waiting to happen.
What is the solution, if both cockiness and uptightness are problems?
Relaxed attentiveness! And for me as a Christ-follower, both relaxation and attentiveness have the same origin: trusting God. When I remember that God is actively involved in my life, I can relax, knowing that I am loved. I can also pay attention to the road in front of me.
Remembering that the ditch is still the same distance from the road doesn’t mean that I have to end up there.
Thursday, July 16, 2020
Woke up this morning, feeling full of regrets about how I’ve lived my life in the past. I am also feeling resentful toward my children because they have written me off as a lost cause.
Here is precisely what I needed to read today!
“Thursday, July 16
Thought for the Day
We can believe that God is in His heaven and that He has a purpose for our lives, which will eventually work out as long as we try to live the way we believe He wants us to live. It has been said that we should “wear the world like a loose garment.” That means that nothing should seriously upset us because we have a deep, abiding faith that God will always take care of us. To us that means not to be too upset by the surface wrongness of things, but to feel deeply secure in the fundamental goodness and purpose in the universe. Do I feel deeply secure?
Meditation for the Day
Like the shadow of a great rock in a desert land, God is your refuge from the ills of life. The old hymn says, “Rock of ages cleft for me, let me hide myself in Thee.” God can be your shelter from the storm. God’s power can protect you from every temptation and defeat. Try to feel His divine power – call on it – accept it – and use it. Armed with that power, you can face anything. Each day, seek safety in God’s secret place, in communion with Him. You cannot be wholly touched or seriously harmed there. God can be your refuge.
Prayer for the Day
I pray that I may find a haven in the thought of God. I pray that I may abide in that Strong Tower, strongly guarded.” (From Twenty-Four Hours a Day © 1975 by Hazelden Foundation)
And here is the verse for the day from the You Version: “Oh taste and see that Yahweh is good. Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.” (World English Bible)
God has many ways in which he makes his presence felt—even when you don’t feel God’s presence. Perhaps this blog post will be an indicator of God’s presence for and with you today. No matter how it feels, you are not alone.
“Prov. 10:23 Doing wrong is like a joke to a fool,
but wisdom is pleasure to a man of understanding.”
What brings us pleasure says much about our character. And here is the bad/good news: We can choose—over time—what gives us pleasure.
For example, I have decided that I like vegetables. Of course, having a wife who knows precisely how to season veggies is very helpful. Still, I had to decide to like vegetables.
The same with running. I’ve run two marathons. Did not find it pleasurable. Endured the preparation and the race. Now, I have decided to enjoy running. Guess what! I do in fact enjoy running now.
But do I enjoy wisdom? Wisdom involves accepting correction, practicing right behavior, diligence. Is it really possible to take pleasure in such things? It is, but it isn’t easy.
I’ve known a few people during my long lifetime who were truly wise. One of the things that I have noticed about wise people is that they always have a good sense of humor and enjoy life. Wisdom and delight are not just related. They are in a mutually reinforcing relationship.
Another thing that I’ve noticed is that many of these wise women and men (no wise guys, thank you!) even came to delight in being corrected, in practicing right behavior, in diligence. They never pretended that these things were, in and of themselves, pleasurable. However, the wise take the long view of things, realizing that they will enjoy the fruit of these not-so-pleasurable things.
In Proverbs 8, wisdom is portrayed as something (or someone) who was very much involved with creation, with God, and with humankind. In the midst of this hymn of praise to Wisdom (Proverbs 8:30-31), Wisdom is said to be a “delight” (the same Hebrew word that is used in Proverbs 10:23). Wisdom is delighting in God, in creation, and in humankind.
Christine Roy Yoder comments on Proverbs 10:23, “The objects of our affections matter. . . . What gives people pleasure and satisfaction reveals much about their values and character . . . .”[1]
What do my pleasures say about me? What do your pleasures say about you?
[1] Christine Roy Yoder, Proverbs, Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries (Nashville: Abingdon, 2009), 127.
Genesis 22 contains one of the most profoundly disturbing stories in a very disturbing book, the Bible. Yes, I still believe that the Bible is the very Word of God. However, that doesn’t keep the book from being profoundly disturbing.
Genesis 22:1-19 tells the story of how God tested Abraham by commanding him to go to a certain mountain and sacrifice his son, Isaac. Yes, it is true that, at the very last moment, God kept Abraham from actually sacrificing his son. But the very fact that God would command such a thing is—and should be, in my opinion—a great difficulty for believers. Of course, for unbelievers, it is likely to be a deal-killer.
In Hebrew, there is a little word called “the particle of entreaty”: nāʾ. It basically means “please” or “I beg you.” It is a very common word in Hebrew, but it only occurs five times in the Old Testament when God is asking or commanding a human to do something. Apparently, God doesn’t generally say, “Please!”
But then, there are those five times—Genesis 13:14; 15:5; 22:2; Exodus 11:2; and Isaiah 7:3. In each case where God says, “please,” God is asking a human being to do something or believe something that is virtually unimaginable.
Commenting on these five strange uses of Hebrew “please” (and particularly applying his observation to God’s command to sacrifice his son Isaac), Victor P. Hamilton writes, “Each time God asks the individual to do something staggering, something that defies rational explanation or understanding.”[1]
It is truly staggering that God would issue such a command to Abraham or, indeed, to anyone. The word “please” doesn’t help much. But at least it suggests that God realized how staggering God’s command to Abraham was.
However, Hamilton makes another interpretive move that I find helpful. Hamilton notes some intriguing connections between Genesis 21 and 22—the sending away and loss of Ishmael and the sacrifice of Isaac. Hamilton asks, “Can God protect and provide both for Ishmael and Isaac?”[2]
The answer is both stories is a definite “Yes!” But perhaps God can only protect and provide for both Ishmael and Isaac if Abraham is willing to give them both up? All good parents want to provide for and protect their children. But often, even the best of intentions is inadequate to either provide for or protect. Bad things happen to good people—even to good parents. Perhaps faith includes giving up the very things that we love the most, and the very ones whom we love the most, to God. Perhaps that is the only way to really provide for and protect those things and those people.
In any case, the bottom line is this: Abraham passed the test by not sacrificing his son Isaac. Maybe God passed the test too.
Of course, those of us who are Christ-followers can’t resist pointing out that God did sacrifice God’s only son. Now that is staggering!
And we didn’t even have the good sense or courtesy to say, “Please!”
[1] Victor P. Hamilton, The Book of Genesis: Chapters 18-50, NICOT (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Eerdmans, 1995), 99.
[2] Ibid., 97.
“We are all fatalists when it suits us.” (DTEB)
I encountered a person the other day who does not think covid-19 is a big deal. There are a lot of folks who take this approach. The person said, “When it’s my time to go, I will die.” Ironically, we had this brief conversation very early in the morning when we were both exercising. It was already hot and humid. Presumably, the fact that we were both exercising indicates that we both believe that exercise can help us to live longer—or at least better. We are all fatalists, but only when it suits us.
Taking care of our bodies is not a huge theme in the Bible, but it is a theme. One of the verses that is not about taking care of our bodily life, but simply assumes it is Ephesians 5:29: “For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it . . . .” (English Standard Version)
Note that this verse is not about taking care of our bodies. In its context, it is part of Paul’s command to Christian husbands to love their wives as they love their own bodies. Paul is also saying that husbands should love their lives just as Christ loved the church. Since Christ died for the church, this means that being a husband is a high and demanding calling.
However, while vs. 29 is not about taking care of our bodies, notice that the verse assumes that we do! The fact that Paul can assume this self-concern tells us that, when it came to our bodies, Paul was not a fatalist. He believed that what we do with our bodies and what we do with our relationships makes a difference.
Of course, even though I wear a mask and avoid contact with folks as much as possible, I am also a fatalist when it suits me. I am a practicing fatalist when I refuse to exercise and when I eat a lot of sweets, just to mention two areas where I struggle.
But here is the bottom line for me: When fatalism is my go-to, I am not taking responsibility for my own actions. Yes, there is indeed the biblical saying “. . . a time to die . . . .” (Ecclesiastes 3:2). But the same wise man who wrote these words is also credited with saying, “The prudent sees danger and hides himself, but the simple go on and suffer for it.” (Proverbs 22:3, English Standard Version)
According to some definitions of fantasy and imagination, they are synonymous. I am not convinced, however. Here are a couple of definitions that suggest how close fantasy and imagination are, in the minds of some lexicographers. (They do, however, suggest some important differences.)
“the faculty or activity of imagining things, especially things that are impossible or improbable. ‘his research had moved into the realm of fantasy’” (https://www.google.com/search?q=fantasy&rlz=1C1GCEA_enUS844US844&oq=fantasy&aqs=chrome..69i57j46j0l4j46.3059j0j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8, accessed 07-03-2020)
“the faculty or action of forming new ideas, or images or concepts of external objects not present to the senses. ‘she’d never been blessed with a vivid imagination’” (https://www.google.com/search?q=define+imagination&rlz=1C1GCEA_enUS844US844&oq=define+imagination&aqs=chrome..69i57j0l7.3612j1j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8, accessed 07-03-2020d)
A friend and I had a wonderful conversation about “the good use of fantasy” and imagination the other day. We came up with some interesting ideas. (At least, they were interesting to us!) I don’t know that we came to any hard and fast decisions, but we did come up with some intriguing possibilities.
Perhaps fantasy is imagination that doesn’t lead to any real, substantial, healthy change. Imagination, on the other hand, leads—or at least could lead—to some transforming changes.
Of course, some people are more imaginative than others, and some are more practical. Some people (my wife, for example) are a dynamic blend of both imagination and practicality. That combination is as rare as the AB-negative blood type.
Those who are gifted with only imagination or practicality need to surround themselves with people who are blessed with the opposite gift. Imagination without practicality manufactures pipe dreams. Practicality without imagination is a prescription for getting in and staying in ruts. And, as someone has said, “The only difference between a rut and a grave is depth.”
But my friend made the most intriguing observation . He pointed out that fantasy is essentially selfish, while imagination seeks the greater good of others.
If my friend and I are basically correct, the decisive common trait of imagination, as opposed to fantasy, is that imagination is a community virtue. Fantasy, on the other hand, is all about precious little me.
So, am I (and are you) an imaginative person, or only one who fantasizes?
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