Today, my wife called me old and scruffy. Perhaps it was unintentional, but the second it came out everybody knew it. My daughter's eyes became saucer-sized as she threw back her head in laughter. My wife visibly pulled away from me as soon as she realized what happened.
Mondays are a kind of starting over--the weekend is over and the week has begun. As a pastor, Mondays can be a little more complicated. True, they mark a sort of beginning. But for me at least, they include a bit more than that as I think about the day before in a sort of closing of the previous week exercise. Here are some of the things I typically think about on Mondays.
Stories are wonderful, aren't they? They capture us. We remember stories. They have a way of pointing to lessons we need to learn. Like the young man in this story, we have a way of only wanting help on our terms.
Words matter. Words have power. As much as we may want to discount this truth, it remains. No matter how often we forget, it's still true that words matter.
Are we following God at the appropriate distance? Too far and we'll lose sight of Him. Too close and we'll try to be His co-pilot. God calls for followers, not co-pilots.
The other day my daughter climbed up on a balance beam. It was a bit wobbly but in her confident excitement, she was undeterred. As she began to make her way across, I instinctively lifted by hand to assist her. It was no problem to me. I didn't even give it a second thought. I was glad to do it.