Author: itoccurstocp

This morning, out of respect for Phil Connors (Bill Murray’s character) I listened to Sonny and Cher sing I Got You Babe.  It is, after all, Groundhog Day.  The movie (Groundhog Day) is one of my favorites, and I am sure that today my head will be filled with some of my favorite lines.  Among the many that come to mind this morning. This one rises to the top.  To set the stage, Phil (who seems to be destined to repeat the same crappy day over again, starting with the Sonny & Cher tune blaring on his alarm clock) is speeding down a railroad track in a car, looking into the headlight of an oncoming train.  His line is simple and direct.  “I’m betting he is going to swerve first.”

I like that line because it exemplifies the “bad bet.”  Bad bets are, well, bad bets.  That said, betting on the train to swerve in a game of chicken is a REALLY bad bet (you see, the train…).  Phil’s situation aside (no risk, he was gonna wake up again to a crappy tomorrow and Sonny & Cher, or not), it occurs to me that it is easy to make bad bets in life – at least it is easy for me.  Some bad bets are quickly laughable, others take a bit more time to recover from.  To name a few, I bet on (purchased) the blue leisure suit.  (I am told that was a bad bet.)  I bet that people and/or circumstances won’t change (bad bet).  I bet that worrying is the appropriate response and will somehow change things (I guess I do.  Why else would I do it?)

Here’s the worst, though.  I bet that I am always right.  Or is it I always bet that I am right?  Same difference!  And when I place that bet is when my alarm clock needs to cue up Sonny & Cher and Phil’s line needs to ring in my head —  “I’m betting he is going to swerve first.”

So this devout cowboy, a daily Bible reader, loses his bible and is distraught.  He prays to God regularly for its return.  Lo and behold, sometime later a cow walks up to the cowboy with the Bible in its mouth.  “It’s a miracle” the cowboy shrieks.  “Not really,” the cow says, “your name was on the front inside cover.” [rim shot]

I don’t know why, but this joke made me laugh for days.  I have, however, told it enough to know that it is, well, not as well received by others.  So am am going for the serious message in it, thinking maybe I should stick with that.  I often miss the real miracle that occurs in front of me, the real message I am supposed to get.  I see one thing and don’t recognize the other.  In the world of possibilities, a cow could walk up to a cowboy with a Bible in its mouth.  Unlikely, yes, but within the realm of possibility.  (Sort of like my “a guy and a giraffe walk into a bar” joke – a high ceilinged bar or an outdoor bar.)  But the thought that a cow could speak, let alone, read, is, well, impossible as far as I know.  THAT would be a miracle.

The cowboy missed the miracle.  All of which begs the question – how often do I miss the miracle?  Miracles aside, how often do I see events unfold and fail to recognize the true take away because I focus more on something else, the popular reaction, the instinctive emotional response?   There is lots going on around me.  In this world of instant news there is much to react to.  It occurs to me, again, that I should observe and ponder a bit more, react and respond a bit more slowly.  Wait, I think I have heard that before.  “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry, for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.”  James 1:19-20

“The right to be heard does not automatically include the right to be taken seriously.”

Hubert Humphrey

A friend passed that quote along recently and it stuck in my head.  Over the course of the day I hear a lot.  To some extent I have control over what I hear, I get to choose what I hear – but not always.  I may overhear conversations in an elevator, or hear communications from those who stick their head in my office door and start talking.  I may hear news reports I’d just as soon not hear from the TV blaring here or there.  On reflection, I see that over the course of the day I hear a lot of things I’d just as soon not hear.  But I have 100% control over what I “take seriously.”  It occurs to me that such gatekeeping, deciding what goes into the “take seriously” bin and what goes into the “mindless drivel” bin, is a significant responsibility God gave me.  Still, I am thankful for the choice.  I am pretty sure God gave me that ability as a means of keeping my head from exploding.

Nothing Twice – Wislawa Szymborska

Nothing can happen twice.  In consequence, the sorry fact is that we arrive here impoverished and leave without the chance to practice.  Even if there is no one dumber, if you’re the planet’s biggest dunce, you can’t repeat the class in summer: this course is only offered once.

I read this a while back and saved it.  I particularly like the line – “we leave without the chance to practice.”  Given that, and given that “the course is offered only once,” it brings home the thought that there is little time or attention to be given to things like anger, jealousy, pettiness,  and things of that ilk that have little value in life, including spending a second in thought about the Kardashians.

“I pray to the God within me that He will give me the strength to ask Him the right questions.”   Elie Wiesel – Night

I came across this quote recently and it reminded me that my constant quest to have things make sense to this pea-brained human is driven by the desire to have answers – answers to questions I posit and which may not even be the right questions.  Having the right answer is great, yes, but it is equally, if not more important, to have the right question.  I recently queried my phone on how to get from Point A to Point B and it promptly gave me directions and told me that it would take me about an hour.  Since it was only thirty minutes to my appointed meeting time, that did not make me happy – but then I realized my phone was giving me walking directions, not driving directions.  I had the right answer to the wrong question.  I might know that three is the square root of nine, but if I am hungry and my question is “Where can I get a quick breakfast?” that answer is of little use to me.  Thinking down this path, when someone upsets or disappoints me in some way, perhaps trying to discern the perfect way to get even is not as useful as the more compassionate question of “I wonder what has __ upset today?” or perhaps the more appropriate one “I wonder what I just did to piss __ off?”

Questions, not answers?

 

Photo taken on the beach in Galveston.

I listened recently to a podcast that attempted to explain the current divisiveness of the country.  One of the commentators attributed it, at least in part, to the abundance of news sources and commentary on them.  The Information Age we are in doesn’t just allow us to have easy access to information, but to information of our liking.  Just as I could in past years turn the knob (remember those) to a radio station of my liking (rock, country, easy listening) I can now tune in to news and commentary of my liking, to what is comfortable to me — so I do.  Guilty as charged.

Because of my selective tuning the only media “dissonance” I hear is when someone sets up “the other point of view” as a straw man to expose, ridicule, and topple.  So, when I do finally hear someone expressing (God forbid) an opposing view, my reaction is exaggerated.  So what to do?

I am reminded of this from a favorite source, Anne Lamott from Traveling Mercies:

“You can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out He hates all the same people you do.”

This parallel occurs to me – when I agree with all the news and commentary I listen to, it might just be time to try at least season my search for the truth by sprinkling in some other sources.

All of this was prompted by this today from C. S. Lewis:

“If you look for truth you may find comfort in the end: if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth – only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin with and, in the end, despair.”

God help me as I listen to Rush and Sean!

“But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.”  Luke 15:20

This passage from the Prodigal Son parable jumped out at me this morning.  The prodigal son has run off with a portion of his father’s estate, “wasted his substance on riotous living,” run out of money, nearly perished with hunger, and then come to his senses – all except the running off with the money presumably unbeknownst to the father (though the father may likely have had an inkling as to the future).  I think it reasonable to assume that this passage comes some months, perhaps years, after the prodigal son headed the opposite way down that same road, leaving  his family behind.

Still, the father is looking down the road.  In those months/years that passed I can imagine that there wasn’t a day, perhaps an hour, that went by that the father didn’t look down the road with some form of pain, some form of regret, a wish for reconciliation welling up inside him.  He looked down the road hoping to see what he eventually saw – his son had come to his senses and was headed home.

 I am reminded of something I read once to this effect – if you feel distant from God, guess who moved!  I am of course not breaking new ground here, but today in this passage it occurs to me that any time I stray God is always looking down that road for me, waiting for me to return.