Contagiousness

This past week, I began reading The Tipping Point, by Malcom Gladwell. This book, is subtitled, "How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference." In the introduction, Gladwell discusses, contagiousness, but he wants us to look at it in a different light than just things like Swine Flu. I think we've become better at this. We now say someone may have a contagious laugh or attitude. It's a positive thing. Now, I'm not going to go all cerebral on you here, because even though the point in the excerpt below is well made, I couldn't help but laugh while reading it. See if you find humor in it...or perhaps it may just make you sleepy....

A world that follows the rules of epidemics is a very different place from the world we think we live in now. Think, for a moment, about the concept of contagiousness. If I say that word to you, you think of colds and the flu or perhaps something very dangerous like H.I.V. or Ebola. We have, in our minds, a very specific, biological, notion of what contagiousness means. But if there can be epidemics of crime or epidemics of fashion, there must be all kinds of things just as contagious as viruses. Have you ever thought about yawning, for instance? Yawning is a surprisingly powerful act. Just by reading the two yawns in the previous two sentences--and the two additional yawns in this sentence--a good number of you will probably yawn within the next few minutes. Even as I'm writing this I've yawned twice. If you're reading this in a public place, and you've just yawned, chances are that a good proportion of everyone who saw you yawn is now yawning too, and a good proportion of the people watching the people who watched you yawn are now yawning as well, and on and on, in a ever-widening, yawning circle.

Yawning is incredibly contagious. I made some of you reading this yawn simply by writing the word "yawn". The people who yawned when they saw you yawn, meanwhile, were infected by the sight of you yawning--which is a second kind of contagion. They might even have yawned if they only heard you yawn, because yawning is also aurally contagious: if you play an audio-tape of a yawn to blind people, they'll yawn too. And finally, if you yawned as you read this, did the thought cross your mind--however unconsciously and fleetingly--that you might be tired? I suspect that for some of you it did, which means that yawns can also be emotionally contagious. Simply by writing the word, I can plant a feeling in your mind. Can the flu virus do that? Contagiousness, in other words, is an unexpected property of all kinds of things, and we have to remember that if we are to recognize and diagnose epidemic change.

OK, maybe it's not that funny. As a matter of fact, I'm bushed. Goodnight.

Mountains and Valleys

While reading this morning, I came across these words by Oswald Chambers in My Utmost for His Highest: "If we continually try to bring back those exceptional moments of inspiration, it is a sign that it is not God we want." (May 1)

This got me thinking. I LOVE those mountaintop experiences! I had one that lasted a while in the fall of '07. (Ironically because I was reading of all books, Ecclesiastes). I'm ready for another one soon! Actually the sooner the better. Of course the analogy goes one step further when it comes to human nature. If all of life was a mountaintop experiences we would feel as if we were on a plateau. But back to the point that Chambers makes above. The Joy we get from these experiences are a great source of fuel and encouragement but they should not be our goal.

Like I mentioned above, these experiences cannot last forever, so what is it that we should make of the valley experiences? Well, here are a few passages regarding this:

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."
-James 1:2-5

"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it."
-Hebrews 12:11

"In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."
-1 Peter 1:6-7

So clearly, the valley is well worth it. The mountaintop experience as well as our desire to persevere fuels us for these occasions. What is interesting though is when I see my son struggling with something I feel the pain he is feeling. He is my boy and I dread that he has to go through it.

1. There are times when he is struggling and it's because he needs to learn something. I have to use every ounce of my energy to keep from intervening when he's frustrated. I have to wait for him to figure it out because once he does, he will be all the better for it.
   
2. There are other times when he if going through something and I know that he will be unable to do by himself. His pride often keeps him from asking for help, but I'm waiting...I want him to ask me. I am pleased when he does and very happy to help him figure it out. I also love the "thank you" I receive afterward.
3. Of course there are times when it is completely out of his control to even get close to getting through it without me. When this occurs, he leans on me completely, and I have the opportunity to lovingly push him through the struggle.
   

So I say all of this to ask/extrapolate the following. Does God feel similar to the way I feel when my boys work through an issue? Does he have compassion and sadness while he allows the issue to continue while I work through what I'm learning? Does he patiently wait for my appeal to him when I need his help? And does he lovingly intervene in the times when it is impossible for me to do it on my own? (I suspect he intervenes many times without me even realizing it). Watching my kids work through something provides me with the opportunity to help, to show love and to feel a sense of joy and encouragement when they take the right actions to overcome the trial. Is it possible that my valleys somehow encourage God when I work through them while leaning on him? It's almost like a spiritual give and take if it's true. The mountaintops encourage me and the valleys, perhaps encourage him.