Dust Collector

9-year olds are quirky, beautiful, spazdek, smiley, and highly flammable. They also have a tendency to be quite obsequious. My 9-year old fits all of these descriptors, and she’s a sweet little thing (when she’s not choosing to be otherwise). She’s a lot like her Dad.
In the mornings, she reminds me of my last attempt at biscuit making...slow to rise. Again, she’s a lot like her Dad. Once she gets going, (for the most part) she’s fine, but that initial: “Hello world! It’s time to leap out of bed and spring into the day!” doesn’t happen. Actually, this is fine, because it doesn’t happen for me either.

This morning, we were running late (Dad included). I have a rule that if you are not ready to leave the house when Dad is ready to leave the house, then you are not going to leave the house with Dad. I’m glad my 9-year old doesn’t have the same rule. If that had been the case today, I would’ve walked. However, once we got to school, she (nonchalantly) paid me the greatest compliment. Now that I think about it, it’s the best compliment I’ve received in a good while. Now that I think about it (again), it’s the only compliment I’ve received in a good while. (Sorry...I couldn’t resist.)

The short story is that I am working at her school now. In the mornings, I spend 20 or so minutes reading with students. Sometimes they read to me and sometimes we all sit at the same table silently reading our own books. This morning, we were running late (Did I mention that?); and therefore, I did not remember to bring the book I’m currently reading, so I whipped out my iPod Touch and began silently reading John 12 from “The Voice” translation of the New Testament. At this point, one of the other students asked what I was reading to which I replied in short, “The Bible.” Then, my daughter said something that shocked me. She looked up from her own book in the direction of the student that had asked me what I was reading and said (in this “Yup...that’s my Dad” kind of voice), “Yeah, he’s always reading the Bible.”

My daughter came to live with us in 2004. Until recently, she has only known me as a full-time pastor, and until today, to my knowledge, she has never said anything like that about me before. I never gave her a reason to.

As part of this year’s Lenten journey, I am giving up my passe, read it only for sermon preparation, “yeah...yeah I know it says that somewhere in there...” approach to the Bible. As part of this year’s Lenten journey, I am giving up my information for information sake, go to the Scriptures to prove a point, know a lot about but resist its formation and change approach to the Bible. I just don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t want to sit around talking about the book as if it’s words somehow exist outside of the context of my life. It’s not a governmental treatise or mathematics textbook. It’s not a do-it yourself manual or university handbook. It’s not even basic instructions before leaving earth, although the acronym is (almost) a spark of creativity. How was it...the last time you meditated day and night on the Internal Revenue Manual (all CPAs not withstanding)?

As I give up such approaches to the Bible, I am hoping to pick up a hunger and thirst for the God revealed through the Scriptures. I am hoping that the cultivation of passion for the Word continues in me and into the lives of those I am around.

How can I not engage in a rhythm of Word, life, and communit(as) and not experience change? How can I not engage in a rhythm of Word, life, and communit(as) and recognize qualities of the Scriptures I had never noticed; and therefore, experience the transformation they initiate? How can we not dive (with others) into the Word on a daily basis swimming freely in the Living Water?

If Dancing with the Stars hinders you, throw your television out into the street.
If Facebook hinders you, put your computer in the dishwasher.
If running your kids from event to event hinders you, sell your car.
If working long hours hinders you, cancel your cell phone.

It’s better to delight in the law of the Lord over the course of a lifetime than to watch an entire season of American Idol and forget the names of half the contestants 6 months later.