Monthly Archives September 2014

“Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. Ephesians 4:31-32”

I’m avoiding my desk. Paperwork – things to be filed, mail to be opened, bills to be paid and receipts to be itemized – are all stacked up in need of attention. In all honesty, the word “stacked” gives me way too much organizational credit. I’m not sure at this point that I can even find my desk beneath the mountain of clutter that has gathered over time. At least it keeps me from having to dust it. The truth is it’s time to roll up my sleeves and get to work.

But first, I pour a cup of coffee and walk out to my garden. I love growing things and spending time with plants, whether vegetables or flowers, is great therapy for me. But when I walk out to my garden, I see weeds. I didn’t plant them; I don’t want them, but there they are sucking up precious resources and threatening to choke out my plants.

So now I’m avoiding my garden as well. The truth is it’s time to roll up my sleeves and get to work because whether it’s clutter or weeds the principle is the same:

Neglect carries with it consequences.

And the same is true with matters of the heart. Over time clutter can accumulate when things like un-forgiveness, hurts and disappointments are ignored. Then, like weeds in a garden, even the smallest of resentments, if not dealt with can take root and grow out of control choking out the flowers of peace, love and joy we try so hard to cultivate. Over time, weeds become harder to uproot; clutter more difficult to clear away.

It’s a lesson that has taken time for me to learn as I tend to have a hard time letting go of things. I do not possess a quick temper, and I rarely blow up but I do tend to let things simmer. Much like the clutter on my desk or the weeds in my garden, I put off dealing with them until one day I come to realize that my joy has been choked out and bitterness has taken it’s place.

My father modeled for me, in a very tangible way, the right way to deal with such issues. Late in his career, he entered into an agreement with some close business associates to help develop and market a product. Always a man of his word, he had a handshake agreement with much younger men that he had known and mentored for most of their lives. The product became successful beyond everyone’s wildest expectations and the small percentage that was due my father quickly became very significant money – money with which his associates refused to part. So, my father parted ways with them and I never heard him say a cross word about it.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” I asked him.

“If they can live with it; I can live without it,” was all he would say about the matter.

That is until several years later, just weeks before he would succumb to the cancer which had ravaged his body. I was spending time with him on the farm when it just so happened that one of the very men who had cheated him stopped by for a visit. I watched as my father received him with grace and chatted with him like an old friend. After an hour or so, when the man got ready to leave, my father thanked him for coming by.  When he was gone, I sat next to my father on the golf cart he putted around the farm on and I placed my arm around him.

“I’m proud of you, dad,” I said.

Dad, who was always uncomfortable with any show of emotion, stared straight ahead and shrugged his frail shoulders.

“Live and let live, son,” he said. “Some things just aren’t worth holding on to.”

We sat in silence for a while, those healing words like water washing over and around us, sweeping away years of clutter between father and son and dropping it into the deep, vast ocean of time. I like to think that the treasure my father gained during those moments, as the November sun set over a day well spent and a life well lived, was the kind of riches men seek for their entire lives and most never attain; the type of thing that no business deal could ever acquire and no amount of lost money could ever purchase. It certainly was for me. Dad was right, some things just aren’t worth holding on to.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for me to roll up my sleeves. I’ve got some clutter and weeds to take care of.

Daniel was three and a half years old with an infectious smile and inquisitive nature. He lived with his parents, Michael and Karen, in the apartment directly below me. After gaining his confidence we became friends and although I was some 20 years older than him, Daniel would always take time out of his busy day to say hello and speak to me for a little while. One day I happened to be outside when he rode up to me on his big wheel, a brightly colored plastic tricycle.

“Hi, what’cha doin’?” Daniel said, his standard opening.

“Hey Daniel, I’m cleaning out my car, what are you doing?” I said.

“Riding my big wheel,” he said.

“I see that,” I said. “Are you pretty good on that thing?”

“I’m the best!” Daniel exclaimed with all the unbridled confidence of youth.

I crouched down beside him. “Really…can you do any tricks on it?” I asked. He nodded matter-of-factly.

“What can you do?” I prodded.

Daniel furrowed his brow deep in thought before finally asking, “You see that telephone pole over there?”

“Yes,” I said.

“I can ride up that telephone pole and down the other side,” he said.

“Wow,” I exclaimed raising my eyebrows. “Are you telling me that you can ride your big wheel all the way to the top of that telephone pole and down the other side without falling off?”

“Yep,” he said, “that’s what I’m saying.”

We both stared at the pole for a moment before I spoke. “I would love to see that, Daniel, could you do that for me?”

Daniel got very quiet.  He stared intently at the telephone pole and then down at his big wheel. He looked back at the pole and then finally up at me.

“Nah,” he said, “I’m tired of riding up that pole.”

Life is full of obstacles, some of our own making, and like my little friend Daniel, sometimes I just get plain tired of overcoming obstacles. That’s why God set aside a day for us to rest. He knew that we humans would be so busy scurrying around with our little plans and big dreams that we would need to stop and take time out to renew our strength and refresh our spirit. He thought it so important that he made it a commandment for us to rest even as He, himself, did on the seventh day. It’s a lesson that I, the product of a very successful workaholic father, have had a difficult time learning as I struggle to find a balance between work and rest.

The point was driven home to me as I was writing and arranging a piece of music one day.  I placed a notation indicating a rest between two notes and realized that if those rests weren’t there, the notes would all run together and the melody would be lost in dissonance.

Hard work is, indeed, a virtue but in the symphony of life the rests are just as critical to purpose and order.

“Every person needs to take one day away. A day in which one consciously separates the past from the future. Jobs, family, employers, and friends can exist one day without any one of us, and if our egos permit us to confess, they could exist eternally in our absence.  Each person deserves a day away in which no problems are confronted, no solutions searched for.  Each of us needs to withdraw from the cares which will not withdraw from us.”
—Maya Angelou