Bare-faced truth…

I’ve had a beard for more than 25 years. I like it because I don’t have to shave every day and it gives me the illusion of having a chin. I do have a chin, of course; in fact, I have three or four, which a beard helpfully disguises. Still, sometimes you want to try something different. About a dozen years ago, we were going on a vacation through New Mexico and Colorado. I decided that, on the first night away from home, I would shave off the beard, try some of that Just For Men hair coloring to cover my gray hair, and comb my hair in a different way. My wife had never seen me beardless and neither had my three year old daughter. When I emerged clean-shaven from the bathroom, my little girl promptly burst into tears. It took a day or two before she felt comfortable around me. And as soon as we got back home, I let the beard grow back.
I was as uncomfortable as my daughter with my new look. I looked like someone going into the Witness Protection Program instead of the guy my little girl loved and trusted. That was the last time I tried to disguise my graying (now thinning) hair. And I have never again shaved my beard.
Because…what could be more frightening than not recognizing your father? Not much. That’s why I treasure the fact that my heavenly Father never changes. Oh, there have still been times when I didn’t quite recognize Him—times when I was trying to run things, times when I tried to do it all by myself. But that was because of a change in me, not a change in God. There are several hymns and scriptures which refer to God as our foundation, a solid rock, a supporting place on which we can stand. And when you need that foundation most, the rock does not change into sand or a sponge or a hole in the ground. Now that would be a close shave!

A one-step program…

Since my book became available last month, a few people have said things like, “I hope it’s the first of many,” or “Do you plan to do another book?” Sure, I’d love to write for the rest of my life. I have plenty of ideas for books aside from collecting short pieces like this one. And sometimes I just think of titles for books I know I’ll never get around to writing...like Christian Humor and Other Oxymorons. Or The Complete Guide to Healthy Dishes for Church Potlucks. I once had the idea of writing a musical called The Worst Choir In the World, but I never got anywhere beyond the idea. Then there was I Love Everybody—But That Guy in Row 12 Is Annoying.
The ideas are not the hard part. It’s the writing stage that falters. Whenever I should be writing, there are suddenly a hundred vitally important things that I choose to do instead, like organizing my sock drawer or alphabetizing the DVD collection. But at times when I can’t write—while driving or after going to bed or during church—my mind races with more wonderful ideas that should be captured right then!
I may know a lot of words, but there’s one word I never quite grasped: discipline. The only times I’ve accomplished large things—reading the Bible through, finishing a novel, learning how to love people—were due to getting into a routine and sticking to it. Read this much every day. Write this many pages every day. Do a genuine act of kindness every day. To achieve something wonderful, you’ve gotta start. Do it once. Tomorrow, do it again. And eventually, art happens. Grace ensues. Growth occurs. Doing a mundane chore day after day may seem like a rut. But doing a creative project or an act of grace every day? That just seems like a groove. There’s a fine line between working forever…and working for eternity.

My first review!

Eileen Flynn, the Austin American-Statesman religion writer, has posted a review of Shiny Spots in the Rust on her blog, Of Sacred and Secular. I encourage you to check it out; she covers a wide variety of topics related to faith, Austin and other things divine. Thanks, Eileen!