"Bubble Bobble Bad Words", *OR* "Rationalizing"

Should we try to rationalize the Bible when it doesn't make sense?

I've been a Christian for over half my life, and completely read through the Bible twice, not to mention the dozens of times I've re-read select parts of scripture as part of devotions or study. I still, and I'm sure this will continue for the rest of my life, come across things I'd forgotten with every reading. That, or I'll read a passage with the eyes of experiences, a little more spiritually mature than the last time I studied them.

And still I encounter passages that don't make sense or seem contradictory.

The Bible is truth. I have to believe that. If there were parts of it I chose to follow and parts I didn't, then it stops being truth and starts being God's Wikipedia page, free to be edited and glossed-over by whomever at their leisure. When I start picking 'good' scripture and 'bad' scripture, I literally believe in nothing.

But what do I do when I come across passages that seem contrary to my view of God?

The Bible says that God is full of compassion and slow to anger (Psalm 103:8). But, early Friday morning, I read a passage in Numbers (the most underrated book in the Bible, in my opinion) that left me confused and disturbed.

"The Lord is slow to anger, abounding in love and forgiving sin and rebellion. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punished children for the sins of their father to the third and fourth generation." (Num. 14:18)

Context is important. The context of the passage is one of the most famous in the Old Testament. After their rebellion and complaining, God determines that the Israelites aren't worthy to enter the land of plenty He's created for them, because of their rebellion and impertinence.

But even with context, the verse left me shaken. Is THIS the same God whom Jesus came in the name of? How can God punish children for sins their fathers committed, three and four generations down the line? What sin could possibly be so bad that great-grandchildren, who never even met the sinner need to be punished? What did they do to deserve that? How is that a God who the same verse says, 'abounds in love and forgiveness'?

I circled the passage and kept reading. A few verses down, I discovered this next passage:

"As for your children, that you said will be taken as plunder, I will bring them in to enjoy the land you have rejected. But you - your bodies will fall in this desert." (Num. 14:31)

In the context of the passage, this verse makes more sense. Only the generation of people who've rebelled and turned their backs on God will be punished. Their children will be given a chance to have the land that God promised them. Whew! That certainly makes me feel better. God won't punish the generations for the sins of their fathers after all.

But wait... which one is it? Do I serve a cruel God who punished straight down generational lines? Clearly both can't be true. Does this make God a liar? Does this mean the Bible contradicts itself?

Surely there was some way I could rationalize this. Some how, I could come up with a world view in which both statements were true, that sometimes God punishes later generations and sometimes He doesn't.

Which brings me back to my leading question: should I even try rationalizing the Bible when it doesn't make sense?

I must remember that God isn't like me. When I try to imagine God thinks like me, and I try to put context of what God does by imaging what I would do in the same situation, I am disempowering God to an insane degree. It's akin to trying to understand why a motorcycle works because I have the basic knowledge of how to get a tricycle to go. I understand they both have wheels and move me around... but the comparisons stop there.

My mind and God's mind have even less in common that the tricycle and the motorcycle. In order to understand anything about scripture, I have to first understand that it was first breathed by One higher than I. Second, I have to accept that when God speaks, he says what he means, and when He speaks through others, they say what He means, too. There's no room for rationalization. But it's possible to understand scripture without rationalize it. If it wasn't, there would be no point for God to leave scripture for us.

Without going too deeply into the theology of sin: sin and rebellion from God make us grow apart from Him. God doesn't wait for us to somehow purify our lives of sin before He reaches out to us and wants to form a relationship with us. God is not amused by sin, but he is not surprised by it, either. He desires to form a relationship with us in spite of our sins, knowing we will sin all our lives but desiring to start a fire in us that continually encourages us to leave our sin behind, to be in a process and attitude of repentance. From this, God can show us His will for our lives and help us live in the abundance of His love despite our sin.

It is in trading the desire of repentance for the desire of sin where the true danger lies.

I'm a father of three girls, and they do and repeat everything I do. Including the bad stuff. Faith loves to play the NES classic edition with me, and her favorite game is Bubble Bobble. She likes being the blue and purple dinosaur, and she likes we both can play at the same time and continue as many times as we want when we die.

The numbers in the lower corners are the lives each player has. They go quicker than you'd think. 

Dying is nothing in this game. It can happen dozens of times in a single level. But last night, when my little green dinosaur dropped after getting touched by a bad guy, I let a bad word slip. 

It was quiet. I don't even think Faith heard. But Hillary was sitting in the room with us. And she heard, and gave me a look to let me know that she'd heard.

We don't curse around our children. It's not something I want to teach them them to do. But Hillary's look told me everything I needed to know about that situation. I had not only possibly taught my daughter a bad word, but, even worse, I'd taught her that it was completely appropriate to use it in a situation where things didn't go quite as you'd like.

Parenting is a big deal in my life. It should be, in the life of anyone who's really trying not to screw up their kids. It's a massive responsibility, as pointed out by God several times in the Bible (and demonstrated by God with his own Son). Provided she even heard it, I don't think one curse word is enough to turn Faith onto a path of destruction in her life. But it would be naïve of me to think that my words and actions aren't going to mold her future attitudes and behaviors.

What my children see in me now, for better or for worse, it going to affect what they do and say. And that, in turn, will mold their own children. And their children's children. If we as parents aren't careful, the sins of the father can literally become the sins of the children. And then my children really will be experiencing the fallout from my sins, to the third and fourth generation.

I'm not a believer in God's cosmic "slap-on-the-wrist", that He physically punishes our sin here on earth. If that were the case, wicked people would always get their comeuppance, like the bullies in an 80's teen movie. And we all know that's not the case, because bad people prosper all the time in this world. Real punishment from sin is what sin creates in our lives: separation from God. It fills our ears with spiritual cotton, preventing us from hearing God's voice. It covers our eyes with spiritual cataracts, blinding us to the beauty of God's creation and the splendor of what He's blessed us with. Worst of all, it creates distance between the only One we were ever truly meant to have relationship with. When we are separated from God by sin, we cannot live the life of the fullest that Jesus desires to bring us.

Those are the consequences our children may have to face because of our sins.

This post has gotten pretty heavy. They tend to, whenever I talk about parenting. But the beauty in this is that God doesn't expect us to go through the struggles of life and the pitfalls of parenting alone. Remember, even though the Israelites turned their backs on Him, God never abandoned them. Even though they had to wander in the desert because of their poor choices, He still provided for them.

No matter what trolls on the internet try to say, the Bible doesn't contradict itself. God has provided Truth for us because He is a God of order and not of chaos. The Bible does not need to be rationalized to be understood, but it does need to be studied, prayed over, discussed with spiritual friends, and experienced in real life to be understood. It takes a lifetime of careful, conscious effort.

Faith likes to play Bubble Bobble because we can continue as many times as we like if we lose all our lives. Much like the video game, God gives us as many chances as necessary for us to return to Him, as long as we continue to live in an attitude of repentance.

Just watch your language. And write down those passwords! 

"Training Plans", OR "Outside the Zone"

It's been an eventful few weeks.

Elliot Katherine's nursery is coming along well!  Me and Hillary have rearranged lots of pieces of furniture, trying to keep half the room as a functional guest room while still adhering to the black-and-white monochrome color scheme we decided on. The guest bed has new bedding, I've painted nightstands and bookcases black ("Black Magic", as the can called it), and we've purchased a few new items of furniture to accent the room.

Chiefly among them:  Ellie Kate's crib!

Even though she's got a place to sleep if she showed up tomorrow, there's still a lot to do. Like put the rocker together. 

I'm going to put it together soon. Really. 

So Hillary and I are working to get the majority of the work done before school starts. By that time, it will be less than three months before she's due, and with me and the girls going back to school life is only going to get more hectic. 

In my last post, I wrote about the Hatfield/McCoy Half Marathon I ran in eastern Kentucky, and what an amazing race it was. And, with the completion of that race, how I had no more races until fall. The next race on my calendar isn't until September 17th: The Air Force Marathon in Dayton, Ohio. 

This is a point of anxiety for me. The last full marathon I ran was pretty awful; my time was terrible, I felt worse, physically, after the race than any other race since I started running, and my recovery took forever. With the memory of that abysmal race hanging over my head, I resolved to do something for the Air Force Marathon that I've never done before. 

I'm going to follow a training plan. 

Now, don't get me wrong. I've not done races in the past without training. But keep in mind: though I spend a lot of time on the road, I am a total novice when it comes to knowing how to train. So when I say I've "trained" for previous races, I mean I ran in the months beforehand, when running was convenient, and when running wasn't convenient I used a stationary bike or something else to help me stay active. In fact, if I was to nail a description to my old 'training plan', I'd have to call it the, "Just do whatever I want and hope it makes me faster" method. 

But, with as bad as I felt after the last race, I decided it was time to seek help from the pros. So I've started following a training plan from the people at Runner's World, who know thing or two about becoming a better runner. 

This isn't the first time I've thought about following a training plan, but it's definitely the first time I've actually followed up on it. Until now, I'd always told myself that I ran simply for the joy of running... for the happiness I get out of lacing up my shoes in the wee hours of the morning and hitting the pavement before the world wakes up. I always swore that I'd NEVER be one of "those people" who did meter-sprints, followed strict regiments, and was forced to press buttons on their GPS watch constantly while running to do numerical analysis of running data. 

But then I ran for a few years. And few more years. And a few MORE years. And I wasn't becoming a better runner. In fact, I was downright stagnant. 

There comes a point in all things, be it a job or a relationship or a skill or whatever, when staying in the same place isn't satisfying anymore. There comes a point when, if you're not going forward, you're going backward. 

Even though I didn't want to admit it, it was time to follow a training plan from people who know more about this stuff than I do. And the first part was admitting that there was a lot I didn't know. THAT might have been the most difficult part. 

So it was time for a change. And the first thing that had to change was my hair. 

Your gross thought of the day: running in the summer with a ponytail. It fills up with sweat, and then slaps on the back of your neck like a dead fish as you run. Nasty. 

Pictured: hair that is much easier to run with. 

Don't worry; this wasn't some existential crisis, or a desperate cry for help! I've actually been toying with the idea of cutting my hair for years, and have gotten really serious about it these last few months. I actually wanted to do it before the Hatfield/McCoy half, but wasn't able to make it to a barber. With having long hair for more than a decade, it was time for a change. And Hillary likes it, which is a major plus. :) 

So, I'm two weeks into my training plan, and it's already putting me outside my comfort zone. Last Sunday I had to run 10 miles, according to the plan. But Hillary and I went to a late showing of 'Independence Day: Resurgence', and I didn't fall asleep until 1:30 in the morning. I would have to get up before 6:00, run the whole distance, and get home in time to help wrangle the kids into suitable shape to make it to church at 10:30, which is a half hour drive. 

I wanted to make excuses. I wanted to sleep in. I wanted to do it MY way. 

But I also wanted to get better. And I wanted THAT more than those other things. So I ran 10 miles before church, and took a really great nap that afternoon. 

In the training plan, the middle of the week is peppered with short runs, some of which are instructed to be on "hilly" courses (good luck finding a course in central Kentucky that's NOT hilly). But Sundays are "long run" days. After last week's 10-miler, I would have been happy to log another like it. 

But the training plan wouldn't let me. This Sunday's long run was 12 miles. 

So, here's what I'm realizing. Stagnation is no fun. Even if you're sitting at a place that used to be a place of comfort, of safety, you can't simply keep doing the same thing over and over again and expect things to get better. You've got to wake up earlier, run a little longer, push a little harder, give a little more effort. And then, next time, give a little more. And the time after that, a little more. 

Waking up at 5:15 on a Sunday in summer to run 12 miles in the rain SUCKS AND I HATE IT. 

But you know what I hate even more? The idea of never getting any better. 

So I did it. 

And earlier in the week I saw this baby raccoon hanging out by Woodford County Middle School while doing a "hilly" run. He's not relevant to the story. I just thought he was awesome.

If you're a consistent reader of this blog, you might recognize this as the portion where I bring the entry full circle. It's time to connect that revelation about my running to other portions of my life; specifically, that not-yet-complete nursery in which I'm currently sitting while writing this. 

I've done a lot of things in my life. But I've never taken care of a baby before. Most of the skills I've acquired over the years have to do with me, and me alone. I'm a good runner, which is almost strictly a solitary sport. I'm a darn good video game player; again, mostly solo. I've read loads of books and seen lots of shows and done a whole lot of things that revolve around ME. 

Then, after getting divorced, I remarried to a woman who understands me as no one else ever has. Of course, I already had a little insight into marriage, even if my last one went down in bigger flames than the Hindenburg. At least I had a frame of reference to begin learning how to be a real husband. 

Over the last few years, I've learned a lot about being a dad. It's been the most amazing, worthwhile transformation I could ever experience. I feel a lot of the rough edges of my personality wearing away as old, selfish Graham starts to become a thing of the past. Good riddance. 

Coming this October, I'm going to be flying blind when a baby comes into my life. 

The Graham I am now, I haven't been for very long. This Graham is the best version of Graham that has ever existed. I've worked out everything this Graham has to do on a daily basis, as a husband and father and teacher and Christian and runner. Though he's still got a lot to learn regarding these various roles, he's got the basics covered. I get this Graham. 

But, like with my running, this Graham has to change. Because staying stagnant, not preparing for what's coming, isn't an option. If I'm going to become the person Ellie Kate needs, I've got do exactly what I said above: wake up earlier, go a little longer, push a little harder, give a little more effort. And then, next time, give a little more. And the time after that, a little more. 

And, OH MY GOSH, does it analogy apply to my spiritual walk! It's like the Holy Spirit only reveals things to me when I can slap to an analogy that my super-dense, completely-unable-to-discern brain can understand. How often do I get stuck in spiritual limbo, comfortable with my relationship with Christ? I read a story or book in the Bible, or hear a sermon, or go on a mission trip or a retreat... then I let those affect me, make me strive to follow Christ harder, awaken a need for more of Him... and then I sit on that happy feeling. Because the feeling is comfortable. It's easy. It's something I know. 

But staying where we are, especially in our relationship with God, is never an option. Heck, it's not even POSSIBLE. Every moment I'm not seeking to grow closer to God, I'm slipping away, distracted by the cares and stresses and responsibilities of this world. 

Shannon L. Alder once said, "Life happens one step outside of your comfort zone." And I couldn't agree more. But I want to take it a step further: life happens when you keep taking one step out of your comfort zone. Because one little step is good; but your comfort zone quickly expands to encompass that step. And then you're back in your comfort zone. Which is why I have to take another step. And another. And another. 

The REAL race is always staying one step ahead of your comfort zone. 

Or, in my case, one mile.  

Going Slow *OR* Dad's Night Off

This is my running blog, in case this is your first time here. And I'm addressing this post as though it is to all-new readers because, since it had been so long since my post, I assume all my old readers have headed off for greener pastures. 

Just so you know, I post lots of pictures, and lots of links. 

So, for old time's sake, I'll begin by talking about my most recent race: The Iron Horse Half Marathon in Midway, Kentucky, two weeks ago. Hillary ran it with me. And if this is your first time to this blog, as I assume, then you need to know that she is my wife. And the two of us went along two long, bumpy roads before we made our ways to each other. 

Was that enough links for you? I'll try not to use any more. 

The Iron Horse was a particularly good race for me! I ran my first sub-two-hour Half since 2010! And, though the MapMyRun picture shows slightly more than 2 hours, I'm taking into account that I was at the back of the pack, and that I ran slightly farther than the 13.1 miles (which can happen, because of bends and twists in the road). 

Since that race, I've only managed to run twice. It's party because my new responsibilities as stepdad to two awesome little girls take up a lot of my time. And it's not that I'm sorry for this! Far from it! Hillary and I are simply still learning to balance one another's schedules, plus getting the girls to school and daycare. 

Also, I've been sick lately. 

But, the other day, Faith made a card for me to help me feel better. 

I warned you: lots of pictures 

Since Wednesday night (it's currently Sunday night), I've had something that has left me feeling like the victim of a hit-and-run. Headaches, sore throat, coifing, chills, night sweats, dizziness. I realize the phrase "the whole nine yards" is overused, but I feel like it applies here better than more situations. 

But the weather was nice today. And I was sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. So I went for a run, sore throat and all. 

I did get a nice reward for my endurance. 

For the first time in quite a while, I am alone tonight. Hillary and Zoe, our youngest, are on their way to Nashville for Zoe's annual spina bifida clinic. Faith is spending the night with Hillary's folks, whom live waaaaaaay across the other side of our yard. 

So, for the first time in under a year, it's just me and my thoughts tonights. Which is partly what the run was for. 

Anyway, I did the first thing that came to my mind: watch Fellowship of the Ring on Blu-Ray and write a new blog post. 

Me and Strider. 

Right now, Hillary just checked in at a hotel in Nashville. Staying here, at our home, tonight without her feels like the loneliest place on earth. Even lonelier than arriving at the Prancing Pony and realizing Gandalf isn't there (sorry, still watching Fellowship). 

A year ago, I knew I wanted to propose to Hillary. I just hand't planned they when, where, or how. 

The last time Hillary drove to Nashville, in May 2013, her life had taken a terrifying turn to divorce that had left her a single mom. She and I had started communicating at the time, but we weren't dating. I probably can't imagine the fears that swirled around in her mind.  

As she was driving and I was heading to Kroger to pick up antibiotics (pharmacy was closed, blah), I kept her company on the phone. We talked about all the usual things we talk about when discussing our story: the sheer improbability of it, how we never could never have written a story so perfect even given the opportunity, and how much God's done in our lives. She drove by the old two where she lived with her ex-husband for almost a decade, and passed it by silently. No more crying for her when recalling her shattered former life.  

None for me, either. 

So here I am, writing and watching Lord of the Rings, still very much that geeky kid I've always been, but with far more than I deserve and having come through far more than I would have thought possible. Maybe all that flowery language comes from hearing too much elvish, but it's true. And, when I think about it, this house really isn't that lonely without all my girls in it. It's still got the life in it that they provide; it's simply quieter for one night. And, down two cups of tea, several Tylenol (to get rid of the chills), Motrin (to help the body aches), old antibiotics that I found on my side of the bathroom (finishing antibiotics is for chumps).  The nine companions band together to take the One Ring to be destroyed at Mount Doom. And I've been sitting here in my running-filth for a few hours. I need to shower, although I'll probably break into night sweats and have to re-shower in the morning. 

I'll edit this post tomorrow. 

Until then... fly, you fools!