The Day After Your Answer Dies

So here I sit on the day before Easter, thinking about what the disciples were doing on THATjesusonthecross-2925 Saturday some 2,000 years ago.  I know there is an historical argument for what day of the week Jesus was actually crucified on – but that’s not the subject or point of this post.  I’m simply putting myself in the place of that group of men (and women) and wondering what they were thinking.

The Gospels don’t give us much detail about what took place on that day.  We do know historically it was the day of preparation between Israel’s weekly Sabbath and the annual Sabbath that took place during Passover.  What does that tell us… it means there were normal things  they needed to do in the midst of their questions and grief.  It also tells me during those times we wonder where God is or what He is up to – yes, even in the darkest of hours – life still goes on.

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The start of a new Revolution

As someone who has worked with young people for more than 20 years now, I’ve had the opportunity to see the world through many sets of eyes.  I’ve seen what excites them, what stirs their emotion, and what can cause them to sit back and simply be amazed.  The one constant emotion that I have seen pop up over the years is anger.  Anger at the people and situations that bring suffering to others in the world.  But what do they do with that anger?  What can they do when the problem seems bigger than them, and an impossible one to take on?  Unfortunately, many times nothing happens and they let the motivation fizzle out before great change has taken place.

Then there is this generation that has been emerging for the last few years.  They’ve heard the mantra of change, but have seen very little of it come from the people in power.  Just like a young David from the story in 1 Samuel 17, they have arrived on the scene at a time of inactivity and stalemate caused by the fear of giants – things like political correctness, greed, and fear of offending have immobilized the generation that has gone before them.  But these that are coming in, they can not sit idly by letting their courage become atrophied like that of those who are there but do nothing, for they know that there is STILL a battle to fight.

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Ascend.

I have this crazy dream.  It’s not the normal thing that a guy who has lived most of his life in Florida would probably want to do, but I want to do it anyway.  I want to go on a cattle drive.  You know – riding like a cowboy on a horse, yelping and making noises as I try to get cattle moving in the right direction.  Boots, the hat, the whole thing.  Now, I did the “City Slickers” thing and told myself I would have it done before my 40th birthday – well I’m 41 now and I haven’t done it yet.  Funny thing how money is always involved.  But it’s still inside of me rumbling around wanting to be done – and I just KNOW that someday I am going to do it.  I guess this probably leaves you wondering why any sane person would want to do something so unusual, right?  That’s an easy-enough answer… It’s God’s fault.

If you’ve been reading these posts, by now you know I love history… and maybe you’ve also picked up a bit on that part of me that yearns for the big, sweeping, and epic moments of life.  I love movies like “Dances With Wolves”, “Glory” and “The Patriot” – anything full of big, wide, panoramic shots of the openness of America, all packed in with historical moments and zipped up in an overwhelming sound score.  Something in me craves to know that there is more out there than the laid out streets of our neighborhoods.  When I was a child, I had a subscription to Arizona Highways magazine – just so I could look at the pictures of the Grand Canyon and life “out West”.  I would also play for hours alone in the woods near where we lived with an old WWII-era training rifle, letting the hills and streams of Delmar, NY and Walpole, MA become the battlefields of Bunker Hill and Normandy.  Fallen logs would turn into the walls and ramparts at the Alamo or the fences surrounding Gettysburg.  I don’t think that there was a major battle in our nation’s history that I didn’t fight in.  I covered a lot of ground for a kid in the 4th grade. Continue reading