Rocks

Something I’ve never been especially good at is time management. I understand the basic principles, but generally lack the will-power to see it through as effectively as I should. Sometimes I’m very on-the-ball and other times I am a slacker. It’s easy to stay busy sometimes, but not accomplish much of anything.

One of the concepts that I’m trying to better implement I first learned from Stephen R. Covey, the well-known productivity expert. In a PBS special he demonstrated how often we tend to let the little things get in the way of the things that matter, preventing us from giving them adequate attention. Here’s a quick version of the concept:



The key is determining what the rocks are and scheduling that time as inviolate. Church is an easy one, as is work. In my profession, arriving late for work is a quick and easy way to get fired. What are the other rocks? Family time? Couple time for those who are married? Exercise? Sleep? Ah, sleep—the time that tends to absorb the other things that didn’t get done earlier. How often do we miss out on sleep to get caught up? I’m still working on all this, but trying to figure out what my “rocks” are and making sure they do not get pre-empted by the gravel and sand of my life.

The Extraordinary in the Ordinary

It is so easy to judge people by looking at them. In part, the way we dress ourselves, groom ourselves and carry ourselves communicates a lot of information. But inevitably some information is left out. There are extraoridanary people all around us, and we often don't even suspect. This video from "Britain's Got Talent" is as good an illustration as any I've seen. Unfortunately embedding was disabled on YouTube, so you'll have to click on this link to see it. Next time you see someone, whether you know them well or have never met them before, you might wonder what extraordinary talent or skill makes them, well, extraordinary.

If Only I Could Paint

If only I could paint. There is a moment in scripture of profound emotional intensity and depth that fills my soul perhaps more than any other. It is that instant when hope banishes despair.

Imagine you are Mary Magdalene. Just two days ago your teacher, your mentor, your friend, your God was executed. All of your hopes, earthly and eternal, were wrapped up in him. And now he is gone. Dead.

Early Sunday morning, still dark and the air chilled, you walk to his tomb. There had been no time to properly prepare his body before the Sabbath and so now you are bringing spices and herbs to do it right. But upon arriving you find the stone rolled away and as you peer in with your lamp you see the tomb is empty. His death was not enough—now his enemies have stolen his body and most likely desecrated it.

You run to find Simon Peter and John to tell them the crushing news. The two immediately leave to see if it is true. You follow, and after the apostles return to the city you remain, standing and crying, your emotions completely overwhelming you. Out of the corner of your eye you see someone walking toward you in the shadowy light of dawn.

He asks, “Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?”

You reply meekly, “Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away.”

There is a pause and then the man speaks again, calling you by name. “Mary.”

You recognize the voice, impossible as it seems. You turn hesitantly, not daring to believe, and see that it is indeed Jesus.

That is the moment, when hopelessness gives way to joy, when defeat yields to triumph, when despair is banished by promise. I can picture Mary’s face, her eyes wet with tears and wide with surprise, her mouth open, her lips trembling, forming an involuntary smile.

That is the moment that sums up the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus Christ, who gives us “beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.” (Isaiah 61:3)

There are many works of art showing Mary at the tomb, but this exact view I have never seen depicted, at least the way I envision it. If only I could paint. . . .

Birthday Traditions

Nine years ago my wife informed me that we were going out for my birthday. I don’t remember if I was expecting a movie or some other activity, but I didn’t have much time to wonder—we only drove three blocks and stopped in front of a neighbor’s house. “I just have to get something,” she told me, but urged me to come with her to the door. Being somewhat clueless generally, I didn’t suspect anything. Not until the door opened and a dozen people yelled, “Surprise!” Yes, she had planned a surprise birthday party for me with all of our friends in our new neighborhood. And, because she really loved me, she had arranged for the guys to play Risk while the girls played other games. Do I have an awesome wife, or what? (And do not answer, “what.”)

Since then this has become an annual tradition. The attendees have changed from year to year, although the core remains the same. Some years several couldn’t make it, and so Risk had to wait until another year. But it was really about the friendships, anyway.

This year we are going to try and start a new tradition—really an extension of the old. You see, we have been holding these birthday parties in our old neighborhood in Orem with the friends we have there. Now we want to do the same thing with our new friends in Provo. So, if you’re reading this and have some time to come by on April 24th, you are heartily invited, whether you live in our Provo neighborhood or not. It promises to be a pretty large gathering. Games* will be played. A good time will be had by all. I hope to see you there.

(*Games include, but are not limited to, Apples to Apples, Risk, Cranium, Flux (Monty Python Edition), The Great Dalmuti, and many others. Bring your own! And I should mention that my brother-in-law gave me a new version of Risk for my birthday this year. It took some time to learn, but it’s a lot of fun, too. I’m sure it will be one of the games out on the 25th.)