Practical Devotion

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.” -Matthew 5:8 NIV

Last night we loaded up the troops and took them to the local library for a puppet show. But it wasn't just any puppet show, it was about Gerald, the elephant, and Piggie, the...piggie. They are the two main characters in a series of books by author Mo Willems. All of the books are very simple, written to young children learning how to read. The books are simple, but they are also very funny.

One of the stories that was reenacted was There is a Bird on Your Head. And yes, it tells the story about a bird landing on Gerald's head. Below is my own description of the story.

“Is there something on my head,” Gerald asks Piggie.

“There is a bird on your head,” replies Piggie.

“There is a bird on my head,” Gerald repeats with alarm.

Then Gerald screams at the top of his lungs and begins to run about.

It was at this point in the story that nearly a hundred children, not to mention quite a few parents, errupt into laughter.

The book continues with a second bird landing on Gerald's head. Then the birds build a nest. Then the birds lay eggs. Then the eggs hatch. All of this still happening on top of Gerald's head, and all of this still eliciting huge laughter from the crowd.

I confess it really was funny. And here's why I mention it. Our definition of funny has changed over the years, and not, I fear, for the better.

Our grandparents grew up watching Bob Hope, Jack Benny, and George Burns crack one-liner after one-liner. Our parents grew up watching Dick Van Dyke, Don Knotts, and Carol Burnett put themselves in ridiculous situation after ridiculous situation. We grew up watching Bill Cosby, Michael J. Fox, and Ricky Schroder show us the funny side of family.

Then, somewhere along the way, things changed. The New York Times recently called a show about a promiscuous man helping to raise a young boy “the biggest hit comedy of the past decade.”

“His Master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant!” -Matthew 25:21a

Samuel Clemens, alias Mark Twain, was, without question, one of the quickest wits in the history of the United States. And even when at a loss for words, Twain was still hilarious.

This is the story of the time Twain met Ulysses S. Grant. It is, perhaps, the most amusing introduction in history. It occurred while Twain was still just an up and comer, and doing some side work for Senator William M. Steward. One day Steward asked Twain if he would like to accompany him to the White House:

“General Grant got slowly up from the table, put his pen down, and stood before me with the iron expression of a man who had not smiled for seven years, and was not intending to smile for another seven. He looked me steadily in the eye—mine lost confidence and fell. I had not confronted a great man before, and was in a miserable state of funk and inefficiency. The Senator said:

“Mr. President, may I have the privilege of introducing Mr. Clemens?”

The President gave my hand an unsympathetic wag and dropped it. He did not say a word, but just stood. In my trouble I could not think of anything to say...There was an awkward pause, a dreary pause, a horrible pause. Then I thought of something, and looked up into that unyielding face, and said timidly: 'Mr President, I-I am embarrassed. Are you?'

His face broke—just a little—a wee glimmer, the momentary flicker of a summer-lightning smile, seven years ahead of time—and I was out and gone as soon as it was.”

But that wasn't the end. Ten years later, with Twain now enjoying the heights of fame, the two men met again at a veterans reunion in Chicago.

Our family is a bit strange.  (Or, more accurately, I am.)

Ever since the kids came along, we've had an assortment of stuffed animals as part of the family, each with their own unique personality, and own unique voice.  The ring leader of these Critters, as we call them, is Puppy.  He is a little white dog with red ears, a hint of a brooklyn accent, and a warped sense of humor.  But there are so many others like Ba-Ba, Baby Squirrel, and Little Brown Doggie, to name a few.

However, recently a new Critter was added to the mix.  His name is Wuppy. 

Wuppy looks identical to Puppy, just without the wear and tear of ten years of playing with three children.  (Puppy was once even dropped into the toilet, but I digress.)

When Wuppy arrived, I wasn't quite sure what personality to give him.  At a loss, I quickly just assigned him the role as fraidy cat.  (I thought it would be ironic, since he is a dog.)

Wuppy is afraid of everything from sneezing to apple sauce. And anything he's not afraid of my two oldest quickly explain to him why he should be afraid.

"Wuppy, are you afraid of honey?" 

"Uh, no.  I'm not afraid of honey."

"Well, Wuppy, maybe you should be.  You know bees make honey, and bees can sting you, and it really hurts.  Are you afraid of honey now?"

"Yes, yes, I am afraid of honey."

“Then he said to them all: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” -Luke 9:23 NIV

God and I had a fight this weekend. To tell the truth, I'm still mad at Him. Now before you blow this off, hear out my complaints, because I bet you can relate.

Essentially, I'm angry about three things.

First, I'm mad because God is invisible. Looking back over the course of my life, I haven't had many invisible friends. (Well, there was one in elementary school, but I dropped him after he kept getting me into trouble.) And, to be quite honest, I get a bit miffed that God never shows Himself. He and I have been trying to work through this issue for the entire length of our relationship. Sometimes I'm okay with it, but whenever He hurts my feelings I have a tendency to throw it back in His unseen face. (Its a habit I have in all my relationships.)

Second, I'm mad because what He wants me to do is never clear enough. I mean, why doesn't He just spell it out. Now, I'm not talking about that love your neighbor stuff, I know I can find those instructions in the Bible. No, the problem is when I need a specific answer. There are countless times I have to make huge life choices, and I need some help, but all He seems to give me is a spiritual principal or, even worse, I have to depend upon whether it feels like I'm making the right decision. Ugh. If you are the God of the Universe would it really be that hard to send me a quick email or even a text message, I'm just say'n.

Third, and this is the one I'm most angry about, I'm mad because God is trying to kill me. Now, I don't mean trying to kill me like He's sending people after me or something. (Please don't call for a straight-jacket.) I mean trying to kill every part of me that doesn't honor and glorify Him. And, let me be quite honest, I've had about enough.

It reminds me of that famous scene in C.S. Lewis' The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, when the boy Eustace has turned himself into a dragon. One day Aslan, the Great Lion, appears and tells the boy to take off his dragon skin. So three times Eustace peels off the scaly dragon flesh, but three times there is another layer waiting below the surface. Finally, Aslan suggests another way: