Throwing Drinks

While out for my normal afternoon cycling session, a man in a truck pulled up beside me and threw his drink at me and said some less than complimentary things about me and my chosen activity. (The drink bounced harmlessly off my shoulder, no worries.) It's not the first time I've had motorists yell at me, but it was the first time I've had something actually thrown at me. The road I was riding on at the time is a four lane road with minimal traffic. It's a hellacious climb that drops my speed down to 13 or 14 miles an hour, so passing me requires a matter of seconds. I ride as far to the right as I safely can, and there is an entirely open lane available for passing traffic. 99.9% of drivers simply change lanes and continue on their way. Not this guy. As he sped off, I started thinking what could cause such a strong reaction towards another human being.

It was obviously nothing personal since we've never met. It was obviously not because I was impeding his ability to get to his destination since there was no other traffic. So, why throw a drink at me? Why yell obscenities at me? I think it's because deep down, something in him wishes he had the desire and discipline to better his physical condition. There is something in us all that challenges us to better ourselves, but we don't like that little voice. It requires a change to our comfortable lifestyle. It requires suffering as we push ourselves to improve. It requires discipline to make something a priority on a regular basis. It requires getting out and exercising instead of throwing back a Route 44, super-sized combo meal. All of that adds up to a level of work we often aren't interested in pursuing, and it's easier to just throw a drink, yell, and continue on our way.

That's a nice observation, but it really doesn't mean very much if it's just about physical activity. My mind quickly turned to how this same behavior takes place in our faith. No, we don't physically throw drinks or yell profanities at our brothers and sisters in Christ; instead, we do something much worse. We begin to justify our own unwillingness to dedicate time and effort to God by attacking those that challenge us. When we hear someone share how God spoke to them at 6 a.m. during their daily quiet time, it stirs up a longing in us. We long to know God. We long to be like Christ. We long to be involved in God's activity. All too often though, we write off those longings because they will require too much work, call us to change comfortable aspects of our lives, and even hurt at times. Rather than deal with that, we respond by finding flaws in the person challenging us, even when they don't realize they did so. "Oh, well, he's a terrible father." "You should hear what she said about so-and-so." "Can you believe what he/she did last month?" We "throw drinks" at people because it's easy. It makes us feel better, and it helps us ignore the Holy Spirit calling us to bigger and better activities with God.

Most of us would never even think of actually throwing a drink at someone, but we're all too willing to tear someone down when their actions challenge our comfort level with God. We'd much rather just show up for a service every week, sponsor an orphan or two, and pray when we need something. That's easy. There's no work involved, just like driving up that hill in a truck requires no effort. The problem with it though is the complete lack of growth. Just like I can't become a stronger cyclist without suffering up a hill rather than riding in a vehicle, I can't grow as a disciple of Christ without constantly challenging myself to grow in the disciplines of faith. Does the human part of me think it's fun to get up early to spend time with God? Of course not. But, I know it's one way I come to know my Savior more and more. My relationship with Christ grows stronger through the constant effort and discipline of prioritizing that relationship above all else.

Ultimately, getting hit by a drink while on my bike is no big deal. It might have caused me a few seconds of discomfort, and it might have thrown my rhythm off briefly, but it didn't keep me from enjoying myself, and it didn't keep me from becoming a better rider. Sadly, when we "throw drinks" at our brothers and sisters in Christ, we can hurt someone deeply. In a selfish attempt to make ourselves feel better, we miss out on an opportunity to draw closer to our Savior. We miss out on opportunities to be involved with God's best plan for our lives. We do all this because we falsely believe it's too hard to have an intimate relationship with Christ. Does it take work? Yes. Does it take discipline? Yes. Does it sometimes hurt? Yes. Is it worth temporary suffering and hardship to experience the depth of God's love and dreams for us? Absolutely.

So, the next time God challenges you to take your relationship with Him to the next level, don't throw a drink. Get on the bike.

Swarm

I saw something beautiful today. A small flock of birds, probably 50 or less, was swooping and diving in formation. There didn't seem to be any purpose to it, other than the simple joy of flight. The amazing thing was watching the intricacy of the formations, the precision, and the efficiency. As a programmer, I know the general way "swarm" can be simulated, i.e. each bird simply stays a certain distance away from each other bird, while also remaining a certain distance within the other birds. Done on an individual scale, the algorithm scales up to the extremely complex "swarm" behavior we see in birds, insects, and other created things. Although the algorithm is actually fairly straightforward, we're nowhere close to being able to implement something like the group dynamics of swarming bird flight in physical reality. Machines would require the invention of new materials, power sources, communication methods, and likely a number of other things I can't even imagine.

As I sat watching, it hit me how amazing God's creation, and therefore God, is. His creation is stunning. Stunning in beauty, stunning in scale, stunning in complexity, and stunning in simplicity. There is no iterative process like there is in programming; God's creation was perfect from the beginning. That blows me away.