Let There Be Lights!

by Joanie Butman

Last weekend my husband put the finishing touches on his Christmas decorations.He has been perfecting his craft since we moved here 15 years ago. If you could see the halo of light that surrounds our house, you would understand why I say that during December, Bob is a large contributor to global warming. His Christmas lights have been a source of enjoyment for many over the years.  Nothing endears him more to our town than the light extravaganza he creates every Christmas. I use the term extravaganza loosely. Coming from Brooklyn, our light display seems pretty tame. However, in our staid community the fact that Bob has incorporated color into it is as daring as people get around here. Now that doesn’t mean it doesn’t come at a price. There were a couple of years when I couldn’t use the microwave during December without blowing out half of his display. In fact, Bob has overcome a multitude of technical challenges to keep his lights burning.  Watching him synchronize his many timers is an Olympic event in itself.

To my surprise one person commented, “Whenever I drive by your house, it makes me happy.” We all have the capacity to bring light into someone’s life, regardless of whether we know them or not. In fact, many times you may never even realize it, as in my husband’s case. In every interaction we have with others we have the opportunity to either be a source of light or not. This ability takes on many forms: a smile, a kind word, a compliment, a thank you, an attentive ear, anything that conveys to that person that he or she is worth your time, your conversation, your attention.  Nothing makes us feel more special than being affirmed by others. Conversely, nothing makes us feel worse than being invisible to or isolated from others.

I often tell people the story of our family is displayed in Bob’s lights for all to see. Bob is represented by the white band of lights at the foundation – stable, secure, dependable. On the other hand, Hannah, Doug and I are represented in the spikes of color that revolve around that base of white lights – more than a little volatile with lots of ups and downs. Each on its own would probably be nice, but the true beauty comes from the blending of its parts, much like our family. So it is with the community each of us is created to be a part of. We are all unique and bring a different aspect of beauty and talent into the community. On our own, we will never shine with the glory of blending all those personalities into a whole.

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We are God’s light display for the rest of the world. The sacrifices Jesus and his disciples suffered to keep His light burning are unimaginable to us. Luckily, we are not asked to go to such extremes, but God does want others to see His light glowing in our lives. He wants to hear a similar compliment, “Whenever I see you, it makes me feel happy.” God reveals Himself to others through us, which is why it is so important to share our stories. Our testimonies are the pallet from which His portrait will be painted. When I choose to share accounts of how God works in my life, it isn’t for the purpose of converting anyone. It is simply to reveal a facet of the Divine others may not have had the opportunity to see before.

With this in mind, we need to remember the importance of choosing to make time for God – especially during the Christmas season with so many distractions pulling us in different directions. We need to choose to take time to allow Him to refill and reenergize us with His love and encouragement so that we, in turn, can do the same for others.  A friend illustrated this point using the following analogy of how eagles rejuvenate themselves when they get tired. The eagle retreats to a secluded place, spreads its wings to face the sun and soaks up the sun’s warmth and energy until it is revived. In much the same way, we need to choose to take time to soak up the “Son” to renew and refresh ourselves. How can we expect to be a light to others if we allow our own to die out? Our relationship with God determines the quality of light we bring into our families, our communities, our world.

While God’s light has the ability to connect communities in a way that no technology can rival, He needs us to be His beacons. We can choose to do that by taking care of each other, by taking time (our most valuable asset) and devoting it to encouraging each other and building each other up. Our Christianity shouldn’t be defined by what church we belong to but how we choose to live our lives. When we take time to share in each other’s daily burdens, struggles, joys, sorrows, triumphs and failures, we embody the kind of light Christ brought into the world on that first Christmas. Jane Hillsmen describes His light beautifully, “Christmas will always be in the hearts of God’s children everywhere as they extend a helping hand to a friend in need…as they go about reflecting God’s goodness in the little quiet and unheralded expressions of a loving heart…as they share the light of the world with those who live in darkness.”

One more thing about my husband’s lights. As the trees grow, so does his light display whether he likes it or not. We have almost outgrown the super-duper ladder he relies on and may have to graduate to a bucket truck someday. The same is true in our spiritual growth. The more you grow (and spiritual growth is rarely painless), the higher your wattage. Just as Bob’s light display evolves each year, we are a constant work in progress. We often face our own technical challenges and need hypothetical fuses and bulbs replaced.

Then again, I firmly believe it is especially during those hardships that spiritual growth occurs and God’s light radiates the strongest for all to witness. That’s why it is so important (for me) to choose to plug into His light. Resting in the shelter of His everlasting arms is the way I choose to keep His light shining vibrantly regardless of life’s many obstacles. It is the gift of His light which brightens my life, not just on Christmas but every day of the year. 

Master of Disguise

by Joanie Butman

The Christmas season can be a struggle for many who feel anything but merry. Life doesn’t stop just because it’s December, and neither does suffering. Even Mary and Joseph had a rough time. He's engaged to a woman who gets pregnant and claims the baby is God's son. Try wrapping your head around that one. Then they find themselves far from home, Mary in labor and no place to stay. Yet, even though their circumstances seemed bleak, they experienced a joy beyond anything we can imagine.

Life is precarious, and there is no shortage of plights that can befall us. It might be your first Christmas after losing a spouse, parent or child, you may have just lost your home to a storm or to the bank, maybe you just received a scary diagnosis or a pinkslip at work, it could be an addiction, or perhaps you are struggling with depression. Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is prevalent this time of year. In fact, for victims of this malady Merry Christmas is the ultimate oxymoron.

During the holidays, the pressure to be jolly is overwhelming regardless of how you feel inside. For that reason many of us choose to hide behind a façade of joviality. For years I was a Master of Disguise. My past struggles with depression weren’t seasonal (I love the holidays), but there are plenty of melancholy Christmas songs that could melt down the jolliest of revelers. I was decorating this week and  I'll Have a Blue Christmas Without You and I'll Be Home for Christmas came on back-to-back. That should be illegal! I couldn't help but think of a friend whose child was just deployed, another who recently lost her husband and a family who just lost their wife and mother. Considering their heartache brought tears to my eyes. It also made me wonder how many of those forced smiles at holiday parties are hiding pain that no one else can see.

This may seem like a non sequitur, but bear with me. My bible group is studying Deuteronomy this year. Despite the myriad of instructions the Israelites were given, all of them circle back to one that is shared universally regardless of religion: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind,” AND “Love your neighbor as yourself.”All else flows from this one command. Sounds simple, but to anyone who suffers from low self-esteem or depression, that seems like a ridiculous instruction. No one would want to be loved like that. During bouts of depression, how could anyone possibly obey that command the way it was intended? When you feel unlovable, it is a challenge to do anything other than go through the motions. During times when I was weighed downed by depression, I carried around so many grievances against myself it was like pulling a U-Haul behind me everyday. No wonder I was cranky and exhausted. How could I believe someone could love me in my wretched state? I couldn’t, so I became the original Master of Disguise.

Like Eric in The Phantom of Opera, we all wear masks attempting to disguise our various deformities fearing that if people knew the real us they couldn’t possibly love us. Our masks (as well as our deformities) may not be as obvious as Eric’s, and they’re all different (masks of arrogance, intellect, humor, efficiency, helpfulness, etc.), but they all serve the same purpose: not to let anyone see the real us because, for many , the more real we become, the more unlovable we become – or so we think.

Just ask my family how “real” I can get sometimes and how unlovable I am in those moments. But when I leave the house, I am on my best behavior. When my kids were young and I would send them on play dates, it was always with this admonition: “Remember your manners!!” In other words, “Don’t act like you do at home.”

Do you remember the Beatles’ song, Eleanor Rigby? When describing her, Paul McCartney sings, “Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door. Who is it for?” This is a vivid illustration of the mask(s) we choose to go through life wearing. We don them every time we leave the house. Makes you wonder, “Who is it for?” Is it really for others, or are we trying in vain to fool ourselves?

Within our own homes is probably as close to real as we get, but even there I choose to keep some things hidden. For as long as I can remember, my husband has been trying to find out my SAT scores, which by the way, are going to the grave with me. Most women hide their age. I hide my SAT scores. We all have our vanities. Anyway, why are they so important to him? Would they change his opinion of me? Maybe, maybe not. What is more revealing is my refusal to disclose them. Somehow, I must think my scores, which I honestly can’t recall because they weren’t very memorable, are a reflection of something I’d rather he not see. That at some level I didn’t make the grade - literally.

Fortunately, God doesn’t view us in this way. First of all, we can’t hide anything from Him. He already knows my scores and ones far more important than the SATs; and believe me, far worse. Thankfully though, because of His grace, these scores won’t go to the grave with me. Anyway, the point is, He knows all our flaws yet loves us anyway. For me, it is this love that adds the Merry to Christmas because Christmas is the ultimate manifestation of God’s love. Even though life is precarious, God's love is not. That constancy is something we can all be joyful about despite our circumstances.

With that understanding comes a true sense of peace. Before I was able to transfer that truth from my head to my heart, I realized I had never felt truly loved. Yes, I knew my parents loved me and my husband loved me and even my kids – sometimes. However, these were conditional love. To be honest, my parents and my children didn’t really have a choice – they were stuck with me for better or worse. Regardless, to some extent this kind of love depends on how one behaves at any given moment. All of them at some point, if they’re like the rest of us, entertained wishes (sometimes silently, sometimes loudly) that they could change some aspect of my personality. If only you could be more obedient, more loving, more academic, more agreeable, more patient or on the flipside, less angry, less bossy, less anal, or here’s a good one, less RELIGIOUS – whatever it is THEY would want to see in me or not see in me. Of course, my own list of If Only’s is longer than Santa’s Naughty and Nice List; but blessedly, God doesn’t have any If Only’s. For Him it’s an “as-is” love.

My mother used to tell me I would never be able to truly love someone until I learned to love myself. Unfortunately, like most things she told me when I was young, I didn’t believe her. I thought if I could just convince someone else to love me that would make me more lovable in my own eyes. Now that I am older and wiser, I understand the wisdom of her statement. It is impossible to have a healthy relationship while hoarding feelings of self-loathing. If you don’t feel worthy of someone’s love, you are always suspicious of that love. If you made a wrong move, it would disappear. If they got a glimpse of the real you, they’d run the other way. It’s difficult to trust a love you don’t think you’re worth because you never see yourself through the other person’s eyes, only your own.

I recently read about a sociologist named Charles Cooley. He is known for introducing a theory called the “Looking Glass Self” in 1902. ”According to Cooley, the way we think about ourselves is formed in large part by what we think the most important people in our lives think about us. In other words: I am not what I think I am, and I am not what you think I am. I am what I think you think I am.” Wow, that’s a mouthful.

Here’s the challenge: choosing to believe we are what God thinks we are – trusting that God loves us in our “as-is” state. Choosing to see ourselves through His eyes instead of our own. There’s no need for masks here. I laugh when I think of the first game of hide-and-seek in the Garden of Eden when Adam and Eve hid in shame. What were they thinking? That the God that created the world and everything in it wouldn’t be able to see them behind that bush? The moment we choose to stop trying to hide is when we will be bathed in a love so healing all of our deformities melt away. We can become what He sees. The realization of the kind of love God has for us creates a peace that cannot compare to any worldly love. It transcends your circumstances. That feeling is the peace every Christmas card trumpets – and with good reason. It is something to celebrate.

And the best part about God’s love is that it’s even more evident in our unlovable moments than the good ones. When everyone else can no longer tolerate us, when all our masks have been stripped away, He is there. And it’s in that place that I found my peace, where God’s love finally reached my heart.

Even though all my deformities seem to melt away in the warmth of God’s love, in reality, they are regrettably still there. However, I no longer need my menagerie of masks because my faults are no longer my focus. Life is so much easier when you are not trying so hard to prove to yourself and everyone else that you are worthy. Since choosing God’s love as my foundation, loving others and even myself has become second nature. When you are the recipient of such grace, you can’t help but share it with others. And the more you give, the merrier you get.

Nevertheless, even though God’s love is a gift you can’t earn, you do have to choose to accept it to appreciate its true value. Its worth can only be measured in the effect it has on your life and in the lives of those you touch. The Christmas season is an excellent time to ponder this statement, “God’s love is His gift to us, how we choose to respond to it is our gift to Him.”

Let’s face it, holidays are stressful – especially for moms who have the responsibility of creating family traditions and memories. Trying to maintain or find our joy amidst the Christmas Crazies is an important choice in how we reach the New Year. May God’s peace and love saturate your soul this holiday season so that the smile you wear will be an authentic expression of the joy and peace that comes from opening God’s gift, not just on Christmas morning but every morning of the year.

As a postscript, I just want to clarify something. The birth of Christ changed everything and nothing at the same time. Mary and Joseph were still in a pickle. In fact, now they were fugitives from Herod as well, which is how they eventually ended up in Nazareth after hiding in Egypt for a couple of years. Nazareth wasn't some cushy suburb either. Even one of the apostles declared, “Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” I am not a Pollyanna though I have often been accused of being one. Availing yourself of God’s love won’t necessarily change your circumstances, but it will change how you choose to deal with them. As always, it's your choice.

Soul Training

by Joanie Butman

Over Thanksgiving the power of stories was glaringly obvious as we sat around retelling many familiar tales. They seem to get better each year, but that might depend on the amount of wine consumed. There’s my husband’s infamous sailing story, accounts from my rebellious past, anecdotes of past family dramas. It is a comfortable tradition despite the fact that the ones about me are far from flattering. My long history of unwise choices makes good fodder for entertainment.

We had a new guest at our table this year: a friend of my niece who wasn’t able to travel home for the weekend. As I listened to all the stories, I realized that her impression of the various members of our family would be largely formed from the stories she heard about them. Other than watching us during her three-day visit, she had no other basis on which to form an opinion.

There is no doubt that our stories define us, which is why if you’re like me, you might have a vested interest in filtering the ones people are hearing or at least be there to defend yourself. I remember talking to my nephew’s wife about the Choose Wisely project, and she commented, “I know all the funny stories of Papa’s antics, but I’ve never heard any of his serious ones.”

So true. Many of us are reluctant to share our most revealing stories. Obviously, I am not one of them. In fact, I suspect my family would prefer that I keep more of them to myself. Most people are uncomfortable with vulnerability. Yet those are the most powerful kinds of narratives. Those stories are the vehicles that give others insight into the person you’ve become, how you arrived there and the lessons you learned along the way.

Even so, some people just can’t get deep. Maybe they’re afraid of what they’ll find there, or of being judged, or maybe they just don’t feel the need or see the value of sharing it with others. In The Bucket List, Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson are hospital roommates who are both diagnosed with a terminal illness. While composing a list of things they want to do before they ‘kick the bucket,’ Freeman makes a futile attempt to engage his new friend in a philosophical conversation about God. Freeman finally gives up uttering, “I’ve taken baths deeper than you.” For Nicholson’s character and many others, it’s easier to float on the surface, which is fine; but at some point in your life you are going to find yourself immersed in the depths of a crisis (as he did with a deadly diagnosis). How you choose to deal with that challenge will probably be the most important choice-story you ever convey (whether it is in writing or not), but it is the culmination of all the stories that came before that will determine how it plays out.

I’ll share one of the worst choices I’ve ever made. It was going to see that movie alone shortly after my first cancer surgery. Just one of my many “What was I thinking?” moments. Actually, it wasn’t as stupid as it sounds. When you are battling cancer or any other crisis, it is interesting to hear how other people cope in the same circumstance. It also motivated me to think of what I’d put on my own bucket list. Now, there’s an interesting exercise.

On the other hand, the best decision I ever made was to join a Bible Study group 15 years ago. By studying the stories in the Bible I was introduced to a God I only knew from a distance despite (or maybe because of) growing up Catholic. There was good reason God wanted these stories recorded in perpetuity. As a prior rebel, it’s also been comforting to note that I am in good company as these stories don’t portray people in the most flattering light either. Bad Girls of the Bible was one of my favorite studies followed closely by Really Bad Girls of the Bible and Slightly Bad Girls of the Bible. I never understood that last one. Then again, I'm an overachiever in all pursuits. I think it was Donna Summer who sang, "'Cause when I'm bad, I'm so, so bad." Story of my life. Ideally, we gain wisdom by studying the choices of past generations and the consequences they suffered as a result – good and bad. Isn’t that why we study history of every kind – to avoid making the same mistakes over and over? To understand where we came from and how we got here?

Through these biblical stories, God’s love, sovereignty, trustworthiness and providential care for us is revealed. And it was through these chronicles that my relationship with God moved from my head to my heart. The choice to deepen that relationship was and continues to be the key factor in dealing with my health and any other challenge that life brings. People get cancer diagnoses every day, you might be thinking. Many survive without divine handholding, and I probably would have muddled through on my own as well if it had happened ten years ago; but it wouldn’t have been with the joy and peace that comes from leaning on God. Consequently, simply by sharing my own story others have been inspired to avail themselves of that same blessing bringing comfort amidst trials of all kinds.

I didn’t know it at the time, but the ten years I chose to spend getting to know God (soul fitness training) was preparing me for that moment in the doctor’s office much the same way David’s years as a shepherd (honing his accuracy with the slingshot while protecting his sheep) prepared him to bring down Goliath. More importantly, it was David’s faith (honed by a life-long relationship with God) that gave him the confidence to fearlessly confront a giant of a man with nothing but a few rocks and a rudimentary sling. We all encounter Goliaths in our lives, how and/or with whom do you choose to face yours?

Giving Thanks

By Joanie Butman

I’m writing this early in the week because by Wednesday I will be totally immersed in my own Modern Family episode. Our annual Thanksgiving gathering has the only ingredient required for a good sitcom: lots of family. You just need to sit back and let it write itself. Personally, over the course of the event I will exhibit moments of Claire’s high-strung personality, more than my share of Cam’s flamboyant flair for the dramatic, and a large dose of Gloria’s boisterous volatility minus the big boobs. And Bob will be my Phil, steadfast amidst a sea of relatives doing whatever is needed to maintain the little sanity I had in the first place. His secret is mixing up large batches of his famous Manhattans. My supporting cast is too long to list, but they all assume their roles each year with gusto.

Our generation may consider ourselves “modern” but when it comes to family dynamics, have we really evolved all that much? Adam and Eve were disobedient, Cane and Abel defined sibling rivalry, Joseph and his brothers illustrated the dangers of nepotism, Martha complained her sister wasn’t helping with chores; and complicated, combined families were de rigueur—men had multiple wives with hoards of kids. How much more complicated can you get?

The appeal of Modern Family is that most of us can relate to the characters and situations on some level. More importantly, it illustrates that at the end of the day despite all their foibles, this quirky family loves each other and faces life together with laughter, tears and plenty of drama. Being part of a family like that is a beautiful thing and something for which I am extremely grateful. I’ve been doubly blessed to be born into a loving family and then to marry into another. However, not everyone is blessed with a caring family, so I choose to put this privilege at the top of a lengthy list of things I am thankful for not only on Thanksgiving but everyday.

Like any good sitcom, during our Thanksgiving marathon there is usually one main drama with multiple subplots unfolding depending on which room you’re in. Last year we began the day when my niece’s friend accidentally broke off the shower handle preventing her from turning the water off. My husband, the water nazi, was pacing downstairs wondering what she was doing in the shower for 30 minutes. Apparently, she was embarassed to come tell us. We then discovered that the genius who installed the shower didn’t include a shut-off valve, which meant we had to disconnect the water to that entire side of the house (including the kitchen). No kitchen with 30 guests on Thanksgiving morning is not a good thing. Luckily, we have an engineer in the family who managed to dismantle the faucet and manually set the valve to the off position so we could use the water – a minor setback in our history of holiday calamities.

Then we discovered a rabid raccoon in the garage where the Thanksgiving dinner was temporarily being housed – laid out smorgasbord style for any wildlife lucky enough to discover that someone left the door open. Picture this: people of all ages grabbing a variety of weapons (lacrosse sticks, fishing poles, tennis rackets, brooms, shovels) screaming and scattering for safety while trying to coax the frightened animal back into the wild. Then, cheering in victory as if we had just defeated marauding invaders, we watched Rocky Raccoon stagger down the driveway as if he had just imbibed one of Bob’s legendary libations.

Regardless of the drama and confusion, I love my home filled with friends and family (I also love the quiet when they leave.) During this crazy weekend, I am overwhelmed with gratitude basking in our mutual love and genuine appreciation for each other and how fortunate we are to be together. Even so, there is never a lack of sitcom material from which to draw. I can’t wait to see what this year brings.

One last note, did you ever notice how thanks and giving are inextricably connected? It’s because when you have a thankful heart, your natural instinct is giving. I was discussing this last week with some friends, and we all agreed that paying it forward is the purest way to express gratitude. The consensus was that an anonymous act of kindness (big or small) probably blesses the giver more than the recipient, as there is no greater joy than doing something for another without expecting anything in return – including recognition or thanks. That experience is the definition of living an abundant life. It is what we were made for because when you share your own abundance, your blessings grow exponentially.

My Thanksgiving wish is that you savor the blessings of being on both sides of that equation long after the turkey is gone. Happy Thanksgiving.

Covert Oops!

by Joanie Butman

This past week offered a glut of examples in regard to the importance of choosing wisely – some good, some bad – as is always the case. Ironically, it is usually the bad ones that are deemed newsworthy. Perhaps that is because humans are so susceptible to moral relativity. Seeing someone else royally screw up his or her life makes us feel better about our own. Hence, the popularity of reality TV. It is tempting to compare our own actions to others and fool ourselves into thinking “I’m not so bad.” That kind of thought process can justify almost any questionable behavior. I’ve used it quite effectively over the course of my own life. In fact, there have been times I made myself look downright ‘saintly.’ Only to myself, of course, as that would have been a tough sell to anyone else. No one can deny that as a species, humans tend to relish witnessing a dramatic fall from grace (especially from those in lofty positions) – not one of our more attractive propensities. Why else would I read the police notes every week with fascination? Partly because I am so relieved no one in my family is in it - at  least, not as of this writing.

The most obvious Choose Wisely example of the week has got to be the Petraeus affair. Same old story: as far back as Biblical times, history is riddled with love triangles. King David, a moniker Petraeus recently earned, had multiple wives and still he couldn’t resist going to great lengths to satisfy his desire for Bathsheba. It is an all too familiar scenario: smart, talented, powerful man starts thinking with the wrong organ and “Voila!” He is then surprised to find himself in the limelight for all the wrong reasons.

The Petraeus scandal is another one of those times where you just have to wonder, “What was he thinking?” I guarantee he’s asking himself the same question. The obvious answer, “He wasn’t – at least not with his brain.” It is so predictable. Once that organ takes over, the brain ceases to function properly. There is a litany of famous men who have succumbed to that condition. In fact, there are so many historic examples it amazes me that anyone in a position of power still falls prey to this kind of enticement. It must be true that power is an aphrodisiac.

Even with all that said, the difference in the Petraeus case is the way he handled it, which should be an example to all of us. His integrity, though damaged, revealed itself in his willingness to admit his lapse of judgment and take full ownership of his actions without trying to candy coat them. He was quick to enforce the same code of honor to which he held those under him. Even in failure he leads by example. His resignation was swift as was his contrition. Still, I always wonder in situations such as these whether the person is genuinely sorry for his actions or just sorry he got caught – probably both in this case.

Regardless, one would hope that his humble, no-nonsense response would save us (and his family) from having to hear every sordid detail, but nothing sells better than a good sex scandal. I’m convinced it’s because:

1. We are a smutty bunch.
2. It makes our own indiscretions pale in comparison, puffing up our opinions about ourselves – maybe even a touch self-righteous as if any of us aren’t capable of the same.

It is surprising that a brilliant military strategist didn’t use his own reasoning of “tell me how this ends” in regard to the inner battle that must have been raging before he crossed the line into dangerous territory. After all, did the head of the CIA really think no one was going to find out? That doesn’t seem like good intelligence.

On more than one occasion this week, Petraeus was likened to King David in the press. Just as King David 'learned from his mistakes because he accepted the suffering they brought', I believe the general will return stronger and wiser as a result of his public and private disgrace to lead again and fulfill his destiny. The consequences of King David’s actions were not isolated and neither are Petraeus’. I think the fallout remains to be seen, and we will probably never know the extent of collateral damage his choices caused.

The lessons we can learn from King David and General Petraeus are intelligence of the best kind (as painful lessons usually are) and are well worth remembering:

1. No one is immune to temptation. (Refusal to acknowledge this just leaves you all the more vulnerable.)
2. Everyone makes mistakes.
3. A willingness to honestly admit our mistakes is the first step in dealing with them. (This is a direct quote from my Bible but is close to number five in Petraeus’ own Rules for Living.)
4. Forgiveness does not remove consequences.*
5. Genuine repentance leads to healing and restoration.*

I would be remiss not to mention the glut of conspiracy theories being tossed around. Most of them are cinema worthy but not based on fact – yet. I agree there is usually more to any story than meets the eye, but whether we ever learn the whole truth and nothing but the truth remains to be seen. Maybe General Petraeus is exactly who he claims – a stand-up guy who violated his own code of honor; OR, maybe he chose to throw himself under the bus for other reasons. Either way, it is safe to say bad choices always seem to come back to haunt you – eventually. Choose wisely!

One final point, when self-righteousness rears its ugly head (and no one is exempt from this impulse either), I choose to remind myself of John Bradford's famous line, "There, but for the grace of God, go I." The amount of times God has saved me from myself are too numerous to count, and those are just the instances I recognize. There are thousands of others when I wasn't even aware of His saving grace. The fact that I am sitting here today is proof. When you truly understand your own capacity for transgressions of all kinds, it is a lot easier to extend mercy and grace to others. 

* Life Application Bible, NIV, Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society, 467.