I haven't updated in more than a few days, but hopefully this will make up for the time lag.

I feel like life these days has been like a romantic dinner in a nice restaurant with the one that you love. The dinner has been one that was planned ages ago, and every infinitesimal detail has been orchestrated so that the experience delivers stunning results. Soft music drifts in the background, and the hushed sound of conversations adds to an overall subtle elegance of the evening. You can imagine candlelight and the crisp linen table coverings that match the interior design of an outstanding establishment. The food is exceptional and delightful, and it would seem impossible to improve on the brilliance of the moment.

Then a yelp, followed by the sound of chaos initiating itself. A waiter stumbles and crashes into the edge of your table, propelling the beauty of the moment into a chaotic shower of "good grief, what is happening?" As the world comes to a screeching, grinding. explosive halt, you are left wondering "what...how...where did...huh?" Even the best plans can go awry...

It brings to mind the image of a circus performer spinning plates. When these displays were on the tube in my childhood, I would sit glued to the TV set. The impossible product of controlled chaos that was playing out before my eyes would enrapture my imagination. All that could be said was "how are they doing that?" The artist would dart from plate to plate, tapping and nudging these wads of energy so that the entirety of the picture stayed intact. One dish would wobble, struggling in it's effort to deliver the inevitable, but quick attention kept it at bay. You could almost feel the "snowball-running-downhill" effect. A little saucer goes unnoticed, and then order is restored - quick, loud, destructive order.

Sometime ago, I resolved to not put myself in the position to be the patsy for this kind of spectacle again. I have left jobs, ended commitments, and changed direction more times than I care to admit to, but the chaos usually ends up finding me. This time, I have help in keeping the plates off the sticks and in the cabinet where they belong. I am realizing that a quiet, intimate moment held in my little back yard under the bathing beauty of moonlight can be just as spectacular as the ones held in the fabricated beauty of an elegant dining hall. I guess that what I am realizing is this: the one you are with makes the moment special.

My wonderful wife helps to keep chaos at bay. I don't have to dress things up, or make a big to-do in order to gain her affection. All I have to do is mean what I am doing. Investing time and consideration in the relationship is far more important than the decorations that we have to look at during our time together. In fact, these decorations often provide distraction that takes my focus away from the most important part of the event - her. I never once mentioned the careful consideration that she put into the garment that she wore for the beautiful evening in the opening paragraph. I never described the intricacy that was devoted to her hair style, or the selection of the accompanying jewelry and other accessories that complimented her. This was all lost in the moment.

The same can be said of our relationship with our creator. I allow so much chaos into my life. I give permission to so many things that cause uproar and upheaval, but I seldom ever invest in stabilizing things - things that promote peace.

The other night, I put the kids to bed and ended the day with a moment under the stars. I took my guitar out to the back patio in my darkened yard to sit alone with my thoughts. I played a few chords, and it was amazing how big the sound was. The same strum in the house was wasted on the inanimate objects that tried to soak up the sound. Playing in the yard allowed the notes to dance with the wind. It allowed loving words of worship for my creator to finally escape the chains that held them in my soul. It allowed me to let the plates fall and sweep the pieces of chaos up. The result was a breath of true fresh air.