Confessing… May 16th, 2015

   Jonathots Daily Blog

(2582)

II.

I confess so I can heal.

If I deny, I remain sick.

832 miles.

It was the entire round trip from our home to a tiny village in Tennessee, which had opened a coffee-house and kindly invited our fledgling music group to come and share.

They promised to give us dinner and to pass the hat for whatever audience might make its way to the 500-square-foot enclosure.

We jumped at the chance.

We were tired of rehearsing, and considered ourselves quite prepared for public consumption. We scraped together the money to get gasoline, a bag full of snacks and we took off.

It was exhausting, exhilarating, haphazard, crazy, silly, inspiring and probably dangerous.

We didn’t care about the peril. I was just 20 years old and had not yet received my shipment of good sense.

The drive down wore us out and after we finished our little show, the 18 souls who had gathered to hear us collected an offering of $31.22. We thought we had discovered Solomon’s gold.

So when we hopped back in the car to head toward home–with no plan whatsoever on how to actually get there–the first 100 miles zoomed by, as we buzzed with tales of our escapade.

But then, as if struck by a “sleep angel,” we all grew suddenly weary and were in grave danger of running off the road. So we decided to do something none of us had ever done before.

We stopped and took out a motel.

The young lady from our troupe who purchased the accommodations came out and explained that she bought the room for just one person, because if she had included all four of us, there wouldn’t have been enough money.

I had the opportunity at that point to object–or at least feign a concern–but I didn’t.

I felt if we got by with it, it must have been “God’s will.”

So half an hour later, when we were lounging around, getting ready to doze off, there was a sharp knock at the door. It was the innkeeper.

Three of us leaped up and hid in the shower stall behind the curtain while our single, legal member answered the door.

The innkeeper pushed his way in, walked into the bathroom, pulled back the disguise and there we were. He was infuriated.

He demanded that we immediately leave, refunding a fair portion of our money, pushing us out the door and into our car–where we departed, cursing him for what we considered to be his evil spirit.

Somehow or another we made it home.

Candidly, it never occurred to any of us that we were wrong. And if there was a bit of guilty conscience, it was swept away by what we considered to be the owner’s volatile personality.

I thought about that incident today.

I wondered if there was any of that 20-year-old boy still left in me, who thought that “the ends justified the means.”

I do know this–whenever we look for an easier or cheaper way, we open the door to a cheater’s path.

Is there any of that in me?

Is there any part of the grown man I am who would trust my own deceptive tongue instead of risking doing it the right way?

 

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G-Poppers… May 15th, 2015

   Jonathots Daily Blog

(2581)

G-Pop sat down to consider what he was going to say.

He was pretty sure that a son, grandson or granddaughter might be asking him his feelings on the “Deflategate-Tom Brady-New England Patriots” story.

He wanted to make sure he didn’t say something stupid or crass. Often the best way to avoid such rhetoric is to relate the incident to your own life instead of the lives of those who are presently on the public stage.

G-Pop thought about years earlier when he played tennis with his family around five times a week–his two sons, in their late teens, his wife and himself. Perfect for doubles. Even though his sons and his wife were good, G-Pop was stronger, faster and better.

But he remembered with a bit of shame that he would often call a ball out when he wasn’t truly sure it hit the line, or he would insist that one of his shots was in, and argue with his sons until they relented.

He told himself it “was just part of the game.” What do they call it? “Gamesmanship.” That’s it.

For you see, G-Pop had a history of winning, and he wanted to continue it, closing the door on anybody else to even have a chance to stand toe-to-toe.

As G-Pop thought about that time in his life, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was so childish–but he remembered that it made sense at the time.

It established his dominance

It proved his power.

But it also discouraged his sons from excelling, because even when they did, there was the threat that the playing field would not be fair.

A phrase came to G-Pop’s mind: “A higher truth.”

Yes, there is truth, but then there’s the higher truth, which has been levied on those who have been given great grace and ability.

That higher truth is simple:

When you are blessed, don’t blast everyone else in order to hold your blessing.

When you are blessed, compete instead of retreat.

Tom Brady is arguably one of the best quarterbacks of all time. This realization should institute confidence in his soul. Instead, it has made him afraid of losing.

G-Pop had to admit to Tom that he, too, was afraid of losing, and was willing to make marginal calls to maintain his supremacy with his family in the tennis matches.

Because of that, they probably grew up thinking to some degree that their dad was a cheater instead of a winner.

They also grew up never knowing exactly how close the contest might have been if all the calls had been fair.

There is a higher truth. It is demanded of those who have been given much…and from them much is expected.

 

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