Author: newkingjim

Participating in softball playoffs this week (in which our team was eventually crushed) has got me thinking about various venues of competition. The Coliseum is probably one of the most famous arenas of battle. I was fortunate enough to see it first hand. It’s big. It’s impressive. It has graffiti carved into its walls and columns.  Still, you can stand inside of it and imagine gladiators battling wild animals (or you could just watch the movie).

And if you think those ancient Romans were bloodthirsty barbarians, you can probably also summon modern pictures of bloody boxing fights, vicious ice hockey checking and slamming, and other such ‘civilized’ activities of the modern age. We are competitive creatures, although I think our ancestors would have a few choice words to say to us if they observed our modern practice of removing people from the battle if they are actively bleeding. They might also have something to say about our practice of awarding everyone a trophy.  Maybe performance motivation based on ‘you lose, you die’ is a bit extreme for our civilized world, but throw in some popcorn and hot dogs for the audience and I think they would be on their feet chanting ‘Death! Death! Death!’

Humans are fascinating beings, capable of amazing good and frightening violence.

During the second visit to the house we were eventually going to buy, I started wandering to the furthest ends of the jungle-like yard. Hearing the sound of water ahead of me, I pushed through some thick foliage and came upon something unexpected. Wooden stairs that descended toward the water. Stepping carefully on the wet, mossy steps, I made my way down to a landing overlooking a part of the creek.

And what did I see when I looked up and down the creek? A small waterfall! I had a nice place to put a bench where a person could sit down and just have some nice solitude.

I don’t have to go to the Everglades, or Costa Rica, or Zimbabe. I have a nice little jungle retreat right in my own backyard. And so does anyone else who comes to visit me! It’s surprising what you can find close by if you just venture out to the edges of your comfort zone.

The Oklahoma City memorial. These kinds of places are difficult to visit. For me, they are a reminder of things I prefer to ignore, a splash of reality in the face. Evil exists in the world. Innocent people suffer and die. The world is not what I want it to be (growing up, I always thought it would be). When shocked into awareness by reality, I’m grateful that there is a solution to man’s inhumanity to man, a solution to my own (and often frequent) unjust and sinful behavior. I don’t believe that human beings can fix themselves. Seems like 10,000 years (or 200,000, depending who you ask) of humanity’s bad behavior (to put it mildly) is evidence enough of our helplessness. Being remade from the inside, and regenerated by God’s Holy Spirit, seems to me a better option for the improvement of human beings.

When  I use the term ‘unexpected encounters,’ I’m not referring to close encounters with aliens (although such an encounter would be unexpected).  I’m referring to places or things you come upon when you are on the way to someplace or something else. In this case, while driving through Groom, Texas, we came upon this giant fifty foot cross just off the highway.

 

We weren’t sure what we were going to see when we pulled off the freeway and motored over to the cross (motoring: something the first century disciples were unable to do.)

This little stopover was quite interesting. There were metal sculptures of the stations of the cross. A full length reproduction of the Shroud of Turin. A life sized mount of crucifixion and tomb. It was a refreshing stop on a long drive through Texas and Oklahoma.

 

 

 

When we left the hotel that day, we were looking at a long drive with little to do but hopefully evade storms and tornadoes. When we left this roadside stopover, we were cheered and encouraged. We could have missed it by just pressing on along our itinerary, but instead we were blessed unexpectedly. I shall look more carefully for unexpected blessings along the way.

 

 

Imagine living someplace where you had to travel from room to room by ladder. If you can’t, then you are probably old and arthritic like me. Either that, or you’ve already tried it and not survived to share the experience.

 

This particular location is called Montezuma’s Castle, located just southeast of Sedona, Arizona. In it’s day (500 years ago or so) it was a thriving community of cliff dwelling Sinuagua Native Americans. In those days, there weren’t governmental agencies to outline building codes or enforce child endangerment laws. They seemed to do just fine.

 

 

 

 

What finally did in this society? Well, the best guess is rapid population growth followed by the gradual disappearance of the local water supply. They tried to blame it on global warming, of course.

Meteor Crater. A place I wanted to see 5 years ago when we drove past it. A place I didn’t have time to see then. But I have seen it now.

And here you can see that it’s a big hole in the ground. My first thought was that it took quite an impact to create such a crater. My next thought was that it must have been a very large dog or gopher. I mean, things were bigger in the olden days, weren’t they? In any case, I have now seen the crater, pondered over the power of a meteor hitting the earth 50,000 years ago, and considered the purpose of this big hole on the face of the earth. I would share that purpose with you, but you need to ponder it yourself for awhile first. Also, consider how fortunate we are that no one has ever been asked to fill that hole in to make room for a housing tract. Would anyone buy a house built on the site of a meteor strike? Is it true that a meteor never strikes twice in the same place? Much to ponder.

In the ancient Roman Empire, they had a system of roads that allowed for rapid travel by individuals, small merchant caravans, and large armies. Because these roads were all linked together with Rome as the home base, it was said that ‘all roads lead to Rome.’ Overall, this was a good thing. Maybe not so good when the barbarian hoards began invading and using those roads.

Today, we have more roads than the Romans could possibly have imagined. Roads, roads, everywhere. Many of us have likely driven at least a half million miles in our lifetime (personally, I think I’m closer to a million). Many of us haven’t been to Rome, though (yes, I have, but that isn’t my point). All roads no longer lead to Rome. In fact, there is no centralized location that the roads of the world center on. If you start driving in the United States, you could end up almost anywhere. Well, anywhere except Rome. Unless you have a submersible car, like the one in commercials that goes into and out of the ocean (all the while, a warning runs across that commercial: DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME). Sounds funny, but I’m sure someone has driven their car into the ocean and tried to sue the car makers for damages. All roads lead somewhere. That seems a nearly safe conclusion. But they don’t necessarily lead somewhere that you actually want to go.

Which leads to a final thought. It is often said that all roads lead to God. I don’t think so. While I’m willing to consider the possibility that there might be more than one road that leads to God, I’m pretty confident that a lot of roads don’t lead anywhere near him.

 

Alaska. Glaciers. Frozen rivers that actually move. Cold. I’ve read of people described as being ‘glacial.’ I’ve never actually met anyone that I would describe that way. Maybe that one person in high school. You know who you are. But I digress. Which is what I always do in these posts. I should change the name from Traveling Thoughts to Traveling Digressions. What was the point? Glaciers. In watching them with the naked eye (as opposed to the clothed eye), it is difficult to believe these massive ice rivers flow. But sit long enough and you see some ice calving and falling off as the river pushes forward. Many things in life are like these glaciers. They appear to be one thing until you sit and observe them (or meditate on them) for extended periods of time. Then you start to see the depth behind them, the slow movements, the complex processes. You have deeper insight into life. But it takes time. You can’t take short cuts with an ice cube.

Saguaro National Park. Famous cacti, if cacti can be described as famous. You can drive pretty much any kind of vehicle through this forest of Saguaros. It looks and feels like you are wandering in a great wilderness, that if you were to run out of gas no one would ever see you again. In reality, you could walk a few miles south, and you would be standing on a major highway, minutes away from the fast food restaurant or gas station of your choice. It is not unlike our personal lives, or our spiritual lives. It feels like we are alone, with no hope of escaping the barren wilderness we find ourselves in. But with a little bit of effort, we can put ourselves in a place where there is help to be found, refreshment and energy for the next steps of the journey. That’s what I often need. Refreshment and energy. I just need to go find it and not wait for it to come to me.