The Back Table

When you go to the beach, do you at some point pace the shoreline looking for seashells? Do you only collect the prettiest ones? If they're broken, then they aren't leaving with you. If they aren't perfectly whole, if even a sliver has been broken, it isn't making the cut, right? Every time I enter into this well-worn tradition, the same thought invades my mind, "I'm so glad God isn't like me."   I'm glad that God doesn't choose to only love and work through those who are shiny, perfect, and unbroken. During my most recent expedition, a question hovered close behind those thoughts. Is it about more than shells? Is this simple art of shell hunting revealing something about the human heart...my heart? Is most of our time and energy being used toward the wrong things? Have we replaced God with the good things He gave us to enjoy?  The Lessons I Learned From a Conch Shell As I searched for the perfect shell, more specifically, the perfect ...

Did you ever witness the ever-familiar scene of a dad in a pool stretching out his hands for his son to jump into them? I've found myself poolside several times watching this very event unfold and the same things seem to come to mind. "Why is it so hard for him to jump? He's right there. If his arms are stretched out any farther, they'll turn into limp pool noodles floating in the water." I try to imagine what is going through their minds. If I'm the dad, I probably start off enthusiastic, encouraging him with confidence, boosting courage-injecting words to help him leave the edge. After a while though, I might feel a little hurt. I'd start asking myself, "Why won't he trust me? Does he really think I'll miss him or let him drown?" I'd start backtracking to moments where I might have let him down or missed him before. And then I try to imagine what the boy is thinking. He's probably thinking about all the air in between where he...

A couple weeks ago, I went to the doctor to get my test results regarding my cholesterol. I have to tell you I went in feeling pretty confident. I was pretty sure he was going to tell me that I was fine, and I could keep doing what I was doing. One of my biggest weaknesses is food. I love being able to eat whatever I want to without gaining any weight. (I can hear some of you snarling at me reading those words, but hold your snarls. They may soon turn to chuckles.) My worst fear became reality as the doctor unpacked the report that I would no longer be able to eat whatever I wanted to whenever I wanted to. As he handed me the pamphlet of the do's and don'ts of eating, I started having an out-of-body experience right there in his office. If he was talking, I didn't know it. I was...gone. Flashes of floating rice cakes, lettuce and bran muffins were popping up everywhere. Was I really going to have to start eating those things some of my friends were trying to get me to eat...

A few years ago, I thought it would be a good idea to try out snowboarding. Thinking back on it, I never understood why I would desire to do such a thing and why others live for it. If you think about it, it's totally crazy! You voluntarily lock your feet and ankles into a slippery, narrow board and slide down a mountain of snow and ice, filled with boulders, trees, and other humans while standing up. Fun!  When I first starting learning how to snowboard, the instructor emphasized one thing over and over, "Lean forward." He must have said that at least a hundred times. Leaning forward though was the last thing I wanted to do. When you're standing at the top of a mountain with both feet locked into "The Oval of Death" and you're looking down, the natural thing to do is to lean back. Leaning forward was the John Wayne thing to do, and I felt more like Betty White.  The whole process of just learning how to turn, stop, and not fall was tiring, humili...

Did you ever go to a public pool or attend a pool party and not see at least one kid - or adult for that matter - doing a cannon ball into the water? (For those of you wondering how or why a kid would throw black, iron balls into a pool, you really should get out a little more!) The cannon ball I'm referring to is a diving technique in swimming. Unlike competitive diving techniques, however, its purpose is to maximize rather than minimize splash on water entry. Lesson 1: Leave Your World Wet The cannon ball is dreaded by the readers and sunbathers surrounding the sparkling blue abyss, but to the exerciser of it...pure joy. The bigger the splash and the louder the noise the better. Usually the award is given to the larger or should I say "bigger-boned" individuals. But on rare occasions the skinny kid triumphs with his unconventional and unorthodox style that leaves the other competitors splashes look like rain drops. If you've ever been there and seen it, you know wha...

Did you ever go out to eat and secretly (or unsecretly) study other couples to try and guess how long they’ve been married? It’s interesting to see the chemistry in all its different levels among them. The older couples are quiet and composed with sporadic conversation throughout the meal. They seem to be totally relaxed and at peace, sometimes almost too relaxed, as I’ve witnessed several falling asleep in seemingly mid-sentence (only one of them required a stretcher). The biggest disagreement comes in how much butter is being used on the rolls and how much salt is coming out of the shaker. The younger couples, on the other hand, are animated with arms and elbows flailing as they want the love of their life to get the full visual of their story. They’re wide-eyed and bushy-tailed like they've trained for months for this night. With endless discussion, ice-breakers, and team-building exercises the night is never long enough for this couple. After dessert they’re checking out the br...

Did you know that most people who choke to death do so in the bathroom... alone? (I presume that most of these cases involved men since no women I know dare to enter this room without a herd or two behind them.) Recently, I read of a near-death experience of a man who got a piece of a pork chop lodged in his throat. Guess where he was heading? Luckily, he passed out on his way there, alerting others to come to his rescue. What is it about this room that draws us to it when we're frantically gasping for air? Do we want our last inhales to be of the fresh and invigorating scents that come from the urinal cakes? Or maybe it's the hand dryers that make our flesh look like ocean waves. Maybe we just want to die in the room where everything just seems so right with the world, where the only concern is if it will flush. Okay, so I've taken that as far as it can go (probably a little too far, right?). Let's be real. No one wants to die in a bathroom. Out of all the places i...