I was flying to Canada one autumn to speak at a college. I was on a British
carrier that had a lot of Europeans on board. The computer that selected my seat
had placed me next to a husband and wife in their mid-fifties. They were a Jewish
couple from England who had been vacationing in the United States. Other than
smiling and saying hello as I sat down, I had not said anything to them for the
first hour and a half of our flight. Instead, I enjoyed being privy to a fascinating
conversation between a husband and wife who had been through a lot together.
Trust me, it wasn’t eavesdropping. They were so entirely caught up in their
conversation about family, business, music, fine wines, and politics it was impossible
to shut them out. I didn’t want to anyway. These were the kind of people
you’d choose for companions if you had to be stuck in a lifeboat for a
couple weeks.
Midway through dinner they invited me into their conversation by utilizing
the normal small talk questions. My questions to them were a lot more probing
(minding other peoples’ business is part of my job). I learned about their
business endeavors in England, of their wayward son, of their personal yearning
to die in Israel, and of how their ability to dream at all was nearly dashed
as children. Both narrowly escaped Hitler’s gas chambers. She lost her
parents at Dachau. He wasn’t sure where his parents perished.
I asked them what I thought was an intelligent question.
"Are you happy?"
Neither of them spoke for a second. Then this wise Jewish gentleman made a
smirking sound and slowly shook his head as he stared straight in front of him.
"You Americans. The bottom line with you is, ‘Are you happy?’ You
want to make sure that when all is said and done, you feel a certain way. That
requires life to be fair, generous, and free from hassles. Life has been very
unfair to us. We have made, lost, and made again a fortune of this world’s
goods. We’ve never really known a time when we didn’t have to battle
fear and uncertainty. But we never approached life as if it owed us something.
We have had the opportunity to love and to hope. What more could we need?"
Wise reprimands should be viewed as gifts. I realized that this decent man
had taken the time and the risk to be honest. In the process he gave me a gift
that I could enjoy for a lifetime.
It is easy to fall into the trap of 'needing' something emotional or superficial
before you’ll allow yourself to find contentment. But I learned (from two
people who should know) that contentment doesn’t require a formula, it
requires an attitude. They had a gentle and quiet peace in their hearts I envied.
They weren’t living life for what they could get, but for what they had.
And because they didn’t demand anything from life, life had a hard time
letting them down. They were serious and disciplined stewards of their expectations.
They did not covet what they did not possess.
Little House on the Freeway pp. 104-105
On the Home Front with Darcy Kimmel
"Are you a runner, also?" This is a question that I am asked quite
often. And just for the record, the answer is still a resounding, "No." At
this stage of my life, I’m afraid I’d lose my transmission.
I am, however, married to a runner. And I am relieved and proud to report
that my fleet-of-foot partner recently ran in his second marathon, the 35th annual
Marine Corp Marathon. It was a beautiful day in our nation’s capitol when
15,000 brave souls sprinted through the starting line as the Marine Corp band
raised a rousing march. I was cheering from the sidelines at mile six when Tim
jogged by and threw me the turtleneck he had shed as the day warmed up. The next
couple of hours were hard on both of us, as Tim persevered through the long,
lonely miles, and I prayed and agonized about his well-being.
You can imagine my excitement when I picked him out of the mass of dog-eared,
yet determined runners as they made their way up (cruel and unusual punishment)
the last .2 miles around the Iwo Jima monument. You bet I gave him a long, proud,
grateful hug as we were reunited on the other side of the finish line.
Without sounding overly trite, I can’t help but compare that marathon
day to real life. Paul saw the same similarities when he admonished us in Heb.
12:1-2 Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding
us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles
us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our
eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before
Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand
of the throne of God… Our lives are a marathon and whether we are conscious
of it or not, we are all headed toward the finish line. Even though there will
be potholes, hills, and rugged terrain along the way, it’s what is waiting
on the other side of the finish line that will determine how well we ran the
race. Will you be embraced by the author and finisher of our faith when your
race is completed? I hope so, because I would like all of you to hear those wonderful
words of victory, "well done, good and faithful runner, enter into my rest."
Here’s to tired tennis shoes and tireless promises.
