Texas Thumpin', A Near-Maulin' and Satan's Schemes

I have always enjoyed the drama of college football. Some games pit nationally ranked powerhouses against teams that have nary a fighting chance, and they predictably end up as blowouts where the outcomes appear certain from the outset. Other games are advertised as evenly-matched rivalries that promise to be nail-biters until their very ends. However, some of the most interesting stories in college football are the big upsets, where unranked underdogs somehow manage to dish out spectacular efforts and come up with unlikely victories. As it turned out, the UCLA vs. University of Texas game a couple of weeks ago was predicted as a mismatched blowout that turned into a resounding upset.

UCLA's football team seemed to be headed in the wrong direction from the very beginning this season, as it started with two losses, including a 35-0 thrashing by Stanford, before finally notching its first win against Houston. Texas, on the other hand, was undefeated after three games, was highly ranked, and was the home team of the contest. The entire town of Austin, Texas showed up dressed in school colors in support, expecting a one-sided slaughter. The Texas players were relaxed and confident as they finished their warm-ups and entered the field. Meanwhile, the UCLA athletes arrived knowing that they were not expected to win, and that a loss would practically spell doom for their season.

The game was not close. UCLA was the dominant team, and won handily, 34-12.

During the ensuing week, the UCLA coaching staff cautioned against a letdown as they prepared for the upcoming home game against the lowly Cougars of Washington State University, whose football program was widely regarded as being among the worst of all Division I schools in the country. Could the roles be reversed this time, and that UCLA be ripe for a major upset in the hands of the Washington State Cougars? It nearly happened, as UCLA trailed by 8 points late in the third quarter of the contest, before the team finally buckled down late in the game to secure a 42-28 win, and a collective sigh of relief.

It seems human nature for us to let down our guards immediately after we experience a great deal of blessing, victory or success. This is certainly the case in sports, and it is exceedingly uncommon to see even the most spectacular team of athletes compete for an entire season undefeated. The same is true in the spiritual realm, as Satan knows that we are weakest right after experiences of success and victory, because that is when we let our guards down. In the Bible, king David's most serious sins of adultery with Bathsheba and murder of her husband occurred when he was at the height of his powers, and the nation of Israel seemed secure.

An epic account of glorious victory and subsequent letdown involved the prophet Elijah, who faced off against 450 prophets of Baal and 400 prophets of Asherah at Mount Carmel. By the power of God he gained a great victory, resulting in God being glorified and the prophets of the false gods utterly destroyed (1 Kings 18). However, shortly afterward queen Jezebel threatened to kill Elijah, and this mighty prophet of God, who barely finished praying for fire to strike from heaven upon the altar, became unsettled in his moment of weakness. In fact, the Bible recorded that,

“Elijah was afraid and ran for his life....” (1 Kings 19:3)

We are most vulnerable when we feel invincible, and need to be especially wary of Satan's attacks. These are times when we do not cling to God as tightly, thinking that we alone are able to fight the battle without His protection and direction. Remember, if God is with us and we cling to Him, there should be no upsets.

As for UCLA, they will be the underdogs again this Saturday.

Running Unhindered

Runners tend to be a competitive lot. They want to outrun their friends, outrun their training partners, outrun their adversaries, and hopefully set PRs, or personal records, i.e., the fastest times ever for themselves at a particular distance. As I prepare for my 21^st marathon in a couple of weeks, I recognize that my PR days for the 26.2 mile distance (actually, 26.21875 miles, but who's counting?) are essentially over, as I am gradually getting slower with age, and that it takes many hours of training each week simply to maintain my current level of fitness. However, I continue to seek every possible advantage on race day to hopefully shave a few minutes or seconds off my time. I try to stay well hydrated during the days leading up to the race, watch what I eat, try my best not to get sick by washing my hands extra diligently, and get extra sleep. Most of all, I try to run as light as possible.

Studies have shown that most people will run noticeably faster if they lose excess weight, at least up to a certain point. If you don't believe this, try and run around the block with a couple of 10-pound dumbbells in your hands, and you will definitely not run as fast. I am about 5 ft 7 inches in height, and I normally will try to wake up on race morning weighing in at about 135 pounds, fully hydrated and carbo-loaded. This is my ideal racing weight based on experience, since excess weight will slow me down, and any further weight loss likely will mean that I am dehydrated and/or depleted.

Not only do I avoid carrying excess weight inside my love handles, I also try to carry as little weight as possible on me during races. I wear a quick-drying, lightweight polyester singlet (kind of like a tank top), the shortest, thinnest pair of shorts that doesn't get me arrested for lewdness, no-show socks, the lightest pair of running shoes that I can wear without causing injury, and my car key. I may not be fast, but I at least try to look the part. On the other hand, you can always spot the back-of-the-pack participants who plan to walk their 26.2 miles. They dress in layers, carry large bottles of sports drinks, pin several packages of energy gels and bars to their waists, are armed with cell phones and cameras, and are busy eating bananas and bagels to fortify themselves for the journey. Many carry backpacks. It is hard to be fast while collapsing under all that weight.

Similarly, our spiritual journey is often compared to a race, and in our pursuit of God's plans for our lives, we often weigh ourselves down with cares that hinder us. These may be material possessions (a larger house equals a bigger mortgage payment), misdirected passions (as an extreme example, there is a man whose sole purpose in life is to visit every Starbucks Coffee store), anxieties (oh, no, the Dodgers missed the playoffs), and fear. Each of us carry unnecessary burdens, and will feel relief by casting away some of these cares. In my case, I have discovered that this journey through life has become considerably less hectic after I intentionally neglect to check Facebook updates, receive live e-mail inbox notifications, follow up-to-the-minute stock market reports, and keep up with all the celebrities who are in drug rehab, and I only bother to check up on my beloved UCLA Bruins football team AFTER the games (they are playing lowly Washington State as I am typing this...if the Bruins lose I'll having something else to write about). The resulting freedom is quite liberating.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. (Hebrews 12:1)

The Brain Invasion of Lady Gaga

My son is a proud trombonist of the Temple City High School marching band. While I normally would highly encourage him to spend more time practicing his instrument, I was a bit dismayed the other day when he started blasting tunes from his band's field show late in the evening, just before my bedtime. One of the pieces happened to be a very upbeat rendition of Lady Gaga's overexposed hits – a very catchy tune, but the words to the song are unfortunately quite offensive to my sensibilities, and, shall I say, not quite appropriate for children. After a while, my son started to play other tunes, and I prepared myself to go to bed without much additional thought on the matter.

I woke up early the next morning as usual for my morning run, and as I stepped on the asphalt I did my best to meditate on the greatness of God and His creation:

"God, I praise you, for you have placed the moon and stars in the sky to shine in the night, and the heavens declare Your glory...BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, DA, DA, DI DI DI DI, DA, DA, DI DI DI DI, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM..."

I barely rounded the corner of the first block before my time with God was rudely interrupted by Lady Gaga's tune in my head.

"OK, Satan. Very funny. Now get thee out of my head so that I can give God the glory and honor that is due Him...Lord, forgive me, for my mind wandereth...O Lord, my God, when I in awesome wonder consider all the works Thy hand hath made. I see the stars, I hear the rolling...BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, DA, DA, DI DI DI DI, DA, DA, DI DI DI DI, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM..."

Aaaaagh! Not THAT tune from Lady Gaga again! Fortunately I was only humming the notes and not singing the words. Once a catchy tune infiltrates one's brain, the only thing that can get rid of it is to replace it with another catchy tune. I spent the rest of my run futilely trying to make another song stick. I tried everything, from Amazing Grace and Jesus Loves Me to songs from Veggie Tales, even stuff from Sesame Street. Imagine me mouthing the words of Ernie's ode to his rubber ducky while perplexed neighbors and their dogs looked on.

Later that morning, I caught myself briefly humming a few bars of that festering tune while taking my shower, and while driving to work. Fortunately, diligence finally paid off, and the song was eventually extricated from my consciousness...after a few days.

In the apostle Paul's letter to the Philippians, he gave the following command,

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.  (Philippians 4:8)

Indeed, we must consciously do our best to fill our minds with the things of God, i.e., the good, the true and the beautiful, so that there is no room left for Satan to enter with his metastatic work of distraction and deception through mass media. To believe otherwise is to expose the soft underbellies of our faith to the devil.

Somehow, having the tune, "It's A Small World After All" stuck in my head no longer seems to be so bad.

Oboe Muscles, Prayer Muscles

I often wondered if I could have made it as a professional oboist. The saxophone was the first real musical instrument I learned that is not a piano, but it was through playing the oboe during high school that my potential to become a professional musician was recognized.  I entered high school not even knowing what an oboe looks or sounds like, but my band teacher took a chance on me, and offered to have me play the oboe in the orchestra, if I would audition for a scholarship with the saxophone, and use the money to pay for oboe lessons.  The convoluted plan came to fruition, and I soon understood the necessity for oboe lessons.  The oboe is generally regarded as the most difficult wind instrument to play, but my band teacher recognized something about me that fit the profile of an aspiring oboist.  His gamble paid off, and I became, over the course of three years, one of the better high school oboists in the state of California.

My band teacher’s dreams of my professional music career came to a halt when I chose to study biology in college, and my oboe playing ended after a one-year stint as a member of the school orchestra at UCLA.  I learned to play the guitar, and still managed to maintain my saxophone skills for a few years, but my oboe days were history.

I had frequently considered purchasing an used oboe since college, but waited until my mid-forties before yielding to the temptation. The vintage Linton oboe and reeds that I purchased online arrived in reasonable condition, and I was anxious to play it. The first few sounds were disconcerting – raspy, out of tune, and took every ounce of my breath and energy to produce, easy reminders of why the oboe is such a difficult wind instrument.  Weeks passed before squawking and squealing gave way to something that resembled musical tones, and it took a few more months before my playing improved to the point where my daughter, who was still in middle school, also became interested in the instrument.

Just as it takes practice to regain my “oboe muscles,” it takes time to develop “prayer muscles.”  Though never my strong suit, prayer was a significant part of my early Christian walk, and seeing God answering prayer in tangible ways reinforced my desire to pray regularly.  However, the cares of family and career took a hold on me, and my spiritual walk started to decline in regularity, frequency and vitality.  Prayer started to feel unnatural and uncomfortable.

It took several major crises in my mid-life years before I was shaken awake from my spiritual slumber, and I started to develop a renewed desire to study God’s word and know God.  My wife was involved in prayer ministry at church, and I felt drawn to participate in a prayer meeting for the first time in many years.  It felt awkward, as I was still not used to speaking with God, and was too self-conscious of what others thought about my prayers.  I claimed God as Lord of my life, but my claim was vacuous.  It took the passage of weeks for my “prayer muscles” to become strengthened, and conversation with God became less labored and more intimate.  I rediscovered that as a sinner redeemed by Christ, I am made to pray, just as I was made to play the oboe. It just takes practice, and with practice comes joy and freedom that is unfathomable to those who have not experienced them.

Prayer is not a spiritual gift given to only select members of the body of Christ – it is expected of each of us. Jesus instructed in the Sermon on the Mount and to His disciples, “When you pray...,” not “If you pray....” It is true that some are more “gifted” in prayer, particularly intercessory prayer; however, the person who diminishes the importance of prayer because he is not good at it is one who cuts himself off from the God who is the source of all existence, the God who gives us the privilege of participating in His divine ordained plan as instruments of His redemption and healing, of knowing His will, of worshiping with words of prayer that rises to His throne as fragrant incense. Prayer is spending time with God and communing with Him. Adam and Eve rejoiced in the presence of God until sin entered their lives, then they hid from Him. We no longer need to do so as Christians, but Satan will remind us of our sins not so that we will confess our sins, but so that we will flee from the face of God.

God does not need our prayer. He knows the end of the universe before it began, and he knows every thought in our hearts. But God wants us to pray, that we may align our wills with His, and that we can be active participants in His work. If we do not pray, He will use others for His glory while we atrophy into insignificance.  The apostle Paul knew a thing or two about prayer, and his command to the saints in Thessalonica included these simple words,

pray without ceasing, (1 Thessalonians 5:17)

Blind Spots

A friend sent me a web link to an instructional video on how to properly adjust one's car mirrors and minimize blind spots while driving.  I had already been driving for decades with a nearly spotless record, and was skeptical that I could possibly learn anything that I wasn't already doing.  I figured that the video would be about as useful as those with claims like, "Eat these ten foods if you want to die from cancer," or "Tax saving secrets that the IRS does not want you to know!"  The video actually was unexpectedly informative and well done, and I have taken the recommendations to heart ever since.  Every car has blind spots that can present serious driving hazards, but one is much less likely to swerve into adjacent vehicles if the mirrors are properly adjusted and used, and if one knows where the remaining blind spots are and checks them with a turn of the head before changing lanes.  However, even the best driver will occasionally fail to see the trailing vehicle in the adjacent lane, and it may take an angry honk of the horn from the other driver to avert disaster. 

I started to think of blind spots in a more metaphorical sense, i.e., each of us has certain blind spots in our lives and experiences that are likely to be sources of misunderstanding and conflict.  These blind spots may be maladaptive personality traits, ways of doing things, habits, anxieties, fears, viewpoints, etc., that are blatantly obvious to other individuals, but may totally escape our own attention until they are pointed out to us.  I certainly have many blind spots, and I know that they are blind spots because I often made the same errors repeatedly, and never saw them coming.  I suspect that such tendencies are not restricted to just myself and those who appear on Dr. Phil, Jerry Springer or The People's Court...the same likely apply to each of us in some way as well.

In view of this, it is good to figuratively "adjust our mirrors" once in a while, to occasionally turn our heads and to heed the warning honks of vehicles into whose paths we are intruding - through introspection, through prayer, and by being attentive to wise counsel.

A soft answer turns away wrath,
but a harsh word stirs up anger.  (Proverbs 15:1)

Search me, O God, and know my heart!
Try me and know my thoughts!
And see if there be any grievous way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting!  (Psalm 139:23-24)