The Benefits of Sacrifice

Twelve months after our church home group studied the book Radical by David Platt, I’ve made it through a year feeling as though I accomplished something.

I didn’t take up some of the more stringent challenges, such as going on a mission trip to Africa. My wife and I seriously thought about it, but we couldn’t work it out with our schedule.

I managed a less sacrificial task: forgoing the purchase of any clothes for myself for a year. That may not seem like a big deal, but until making the pledge I often indulged in purchasing a new shirt or pair of pants that caught my eye. As a result, I have an overstocked wardrobe.

So, when too many stains gathered on some shirts, I didn’t run out and buy new ones. The Radical experiment really helped me change my attire lifestyle. I realize I had — and still have — too many garments. Money for new clothes can be channeled to more worthwhile causes. I don’t mind wearing socks and underwear with holes in them.

It’s a message that Americans need to constantly hear. Working in a Christian environment doesn’t make us immune. In fact, materialism competition may be more acute in the evangelical world than elsewhere. I’m surrounded by employees in a company who crave the latest designer purse or shoes, who have an expensive luxury car or who live in a gated community. Apparently, as my wife loses her job tomorrow because of economic downsizing, self-sacrificial ministry is no longer in fashion. Shallow consumption and enriching oneself is the order of the day.

A Blessed City

I spent a marvelous three days in Tacoma, Wash., the weekend before last on a business trip. What a wondrous city to provide a respite from the summer heat and humidity of the Midwest. In mid July the daily high temperature is 72 degrees. I spent an entire afternoon reading books along the Puget Sound shoreline, unperturbed by flies or mosquitoes. The air smelled so fresh, devoid of the haze that enveloped the Chicago I viewed on my return flight. Majestic snow-covered Mount Rainier loomed in the background.

The climate is temperate year-round, rarely venturing into the 80s in the summer or failing to reach the 50s in winter. Residents don’t have to contend with snow. Best of all there are a bevy of seafood restaurants along the water selling my favorite fish, halibut and cod, fresh and at reasonable prices.

Lest I start packing my bags to move to Washington, however, the shuttle bus driver from the rental car outlet to the airport warned me that it’s cloudy much of the year. And he said he pays $720 a month to rent a one-bedroom apartment, not that much less than my monthly mortgage for a four-bedroom home in southwest Missouri.

Unlike southwest Missouri, I saw few people smoking and few obese people in northwest Washington. Tacoma seems to have a good share of residents who are well off. I saw hundreds of spiffy people walking, jogging and biking along the shoreline. But I didn’t see many families. Dogs outnumbered babies and young children by a wide margin.

The Wonder of Summer

Summer isn’t my favorite season. I don’t care for 100-degree days with high humidity, ticks embedding themselves in my skin or expensive air-conditioning bills.

But summer is the best season for eating. We’re blessed to have fresh apricots, peaches, Bing cherries, raspberries, honeydew, green beans and other produce available for consumption at fairly reasonable prices this time of year from local grocery stores.

In our own yard we’re benefiting from tomatoes, blueberries and basil that my wife planted. This spring, she also planted a fig tree and sweet potato patch that will yield in the future.

Insects destroyed any harvest from our plum and peach trees. Nevertheless, it’s a great time of year to be eating healthy.

So Long to the Best Dog

My wife and I made the difficult journey yesterday to have our dog put down. Patty has shed more tears in the past few days than she has in a long time. I cried before we took him in as well.

Buddy never really recovered from a vicious attack by a neighbor dog on Memorial Day weekend. The visible wounds healed fairly well, but we suspect he suffered internal injuries. His mobility had been greatly inhibited since then, and his voracious appetite had abated. In the past week he ate virtually nothing and he suddenly lost all bladder control.

We have many fond memories of Buddy: his tricks of balancing bonies on his nose before devouring them at Patty’s command; offering protection by sleeping outside the bedroom door of visiting vulnerable babies and elderly people; going on morning walks with me the past dozen years.

Buddy has been an enduring part of the family. He’s lived in our current home longer than any of our sons, who have all moved out. He is sorely and sadly missed.