Notes from the Trail

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This actually could have been 3.0, but for the sake of friendship, I won’t discuss here a frustrating, wasted day trying to jailbreak a friend’s iPhone before I found out that you couldn‘t jailbreak an iPhone that came “out of the box” with firmware 1.1.2 or above (at that time). The first chapter of the saga is here.

In the past three weeks, however, major breakthroughs were made on a full and complete jailbreak for all iPhone versions, including the latest 1.1.3. Since I had jailbroken mine up to 1.1.2, I decided this a.m. to bite the bullet and see just how hard it was to upgrade to 1.1.3 and then jailbreak it.

Imagine my astonishment and surprise when I was done, with a fully functioning iPhone, in less than 5 minutes!!

Thanks to the ingenuity of iJailbreak, a nifty little program written and designed by - get this - a 13 year-old! Don’t we all feel rather Flintstone-ish.

One caveat - the latest version of iJailbreak (0.5.3) only works with Max OS X Leopard.

But since I have the feline beast purring in my iMac… YABBADABBADOOOOOOOO!

I had been soooo looking forward to Passion 08! Carolyn and I were at the first Passion event ever in Austin in 1997. We took a few students then and every year there was a Passion event until we left collegiate ministry in 2003. Our experience 11 years ago was an indoctrination into a world of joy, deep theology and well, passion, that led us to a more significant level of ministry and Christian living.

This year’s event in Dallas was our first time back.

We rejoiced with the thousands of gathered students on Friday night in the Nokia Theater as Chris Tomlin, David Crowder, and Christy Nockels led worship. We listened and absorbed intently Louie Giglio’s message.

And then… at about 1:00 a.m. Saturday, I felt like I’d been hit in the back with a sledge hammer. I tossed and turned until 3:15 with Jeremy in one of the guys’ rooms (we went with a group from the Baptist Collegiate Ministry at UAM) before sitting up and deciding to wander to the front desk and see if there were any more rooms available. There was.

That private room at the Sleep Inn in Arlington was where I spent the next 30 hours. In bed. Coughing, sweating, sneezing, and well, you get the picture.

Fortunately, Carolyn was able to attend all day Saturday. She was able to hear two amazing messages from Francis Chan (if you haven’t subscribed to his podcast yet, do it!) and the conclusion of the “Ashley Saga” that Louie had begun on Friday night. In addition, Kristian Stanfill led worship some on Saturday.

We’re home now, and I’ve got a deep chest cough but am on the mend. Overall, it was an expensive bout of the flu. Sigh.

Maybe I can talk Carolyn into blogging about her experience…

It’s an expression so trite that it rarely carries any meaning to those to whom it’s expressed. “Keep up the good work.”

However, if the phrase is delivered from a close friend who looks deeply into your eyes, clasps your hand, and then utters those words, one is more apt to earnestly take them to heart as encouragement.

Do you have such a person in your life? One that you can count on for encouragement, reproof, and simply the oft-needed, gentle kick-in-the-pants to keep on keeping on?

While studying in Beth Moore’s Stepping Up Bible study, I was struck by the connection between a verse in Galatians, one in Hebrews and Psalm 126…

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. (Galatians 6.9)

God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them. (Hebrews 6.10)

Those who sow in tears
will reap with songs of joy.

He who goes out weeping,
carrying seed to sow,
will return with songs of joy,
carrying sheaves with him. (Psalm 126.5-6)

Consider the following phrases and apply them like balm to a worn soul:

• do not become weary
• reap a harvest
• do not give up

These phrases come from the heart of One who loves us deeply. They are especially applicable (and are intended) for the ministry-burdened believer in Christ. Perhaps that’s you. I know it’s me.

The scriptures here address specifically the person who is earnestly seeking to follow God but is tired. Exhausted. Perhaps even picked on or underappreciated. It’s written for those who are pouring themselves out for the cause of Christ and perhaps are seeing a disproportionate harvest. Much seed planted. One plant coming up… Know what I mean?

In reflecting on the truths above, I wonder how many tears we’ve shed - not for ourselves - but that the purpose and mission of God is not being extended through our lives. Particularly in the Psalms verses, the implication is that we will be carrying seeds. Are we? Or are we carrying grudges, selfish desires, etc.?

When you compare the seeds mentioned in the Psalms to the ones mentioned in Luke 8, it’s extremely exciting to consider that there are great promises for those who seek to plant the Word of God into the lives of others! This echoes the spirit of the encouragement found in Galatians and Hebrews.

These keep up the good work words are not mere platitudes but magnificent promises to the Christ-follower who is honestly seeking to witness and work for the kingdom of God.

Bringing in a harvest is not couch work, that’s for sure. It’s a long, difficult process. Yet, we’re assured repeatedly in the Bible that those who apply their lives to the things of God as their first priority will see (emphatically!) the results. It may not be when we want to see them, as Hebrews 6.11-12 makes clear:

We want each of you to show this same diligence to the very end, in order to make your hope sure. We do not want you to become lazy, but to imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised.

Faith and patience are needed. That’s an understatement. Also, I don’t particularly like the words, “at the proper time” in Galatians. However, in faith, I will be patient and believe that God’s proper time is sweeter in its fulfillment than my “urgent” need at the moment.

One last thought… the analogy of farming is sublime. Consider for a moment what your life would look like if there was never any wait for what you wanted. Consider what God would be like if He ran around fulfilling your every desire and momentary wish.

Would you be motivated at all to become a person of deep character? Would you be motivated to become a person of inner holiness and conviction? One who can stand in the tough, uncertain times?

I know I wouldn’t.

That’s when it becomes clear that delayed gratification, hard work, trials, sufferings and uncertainty that is allowed and introduced into our lives by the Lord accomplish for us something that is eternally more rewarding than if we were allowed to create our own spiritual development schedule. We would simply never choose a life of beauty and holiness. We’re too lazy, and we’d be too busy sending God off on errands.

So… it may be difficult, hard and seemingly unappreciated, but our earnest efforts (and sometimes discipline) in following Christ are producing in us “a harvest of righteousness and peace.”

So… keep up the good work.

I can’t help but hear the words of Reba’s song as I write this: “Here’s your one chance, Fancy; don’t let me dooown…”

You might recall that I began the year with a resolution to be nice to our daughter’s dog, the barking furball named Fancy. I really gave it my best shot. Everyone in the family, I believe, will acknowledge that.

However, last week, Fancy’s fate was finalized.

She bit another child… in the face.

Yep.

She has bitten just about everyone who dares to enter her space when she’s not in the right mood (and that’s often), but it’s particularly infuriating when she has bitten children. For the most part, it’s been only a nip here or there, but she’s been known to draw blood.

Then there was last year when I tried to retrieve her from under our bed. I was in a hurry, and upon saying, “Fancy, go get in your house,” she promptly hid under our bed. I stuck my hand under there to get here, and was rewarded with a punctured fingernail on my right index finger. It hurt like Hades.

I danced around yelling and sucking my finger for several minutes before I extracted Fancy with renewed commitment (and righteous zeal) from under the bed and deposited her gently with mild scolding (yea, right) into her kennel/house.

The remote benefit to the finger injury was that my nail turned black, and when I showed people my injury, it looked like I was flipping them off. It’s amazing how many drivers in Monticello wanted to see my injury… or so I thought.

All that brings me back to the present. Adelyn has lived in a state of grief and mourning for the past few days. Last night, it peaked, as it was the first night without Fancy being in the house. We found her a great home with a friend here in town.

Don’t get me wrong… Fancy is a great dog for a quieter home. There was just too much coming and going here at the Nobles. People are always in and out at our place, and Fancy is simply protecting her territory and family. She is going to do great where she is.

However, that has not helped assuage Adelyn’s grief as she cried herself to sleep last night.At one point, she bleated between sobs, “I’ll…. (sob) never hear (sob) Fancy’s toenails (sob) clicking on the hallway again!” This statement was immediately followed by a heart-wrenching wail.

Sigh. Stinks to be a parent sometimes.

As I walked by Adelyn’s bedroom the other day, I noticed a book lying on the hallway floor outside her bedroom. There was a sticky note attached that said, “Throw this book away. Please.” Such has been just one example of many of the heightened melodrama around our house.

The other night after Fancy left, Adelyn was doing a little better. She has her sights set on a new puppy, and we’ve been carefully screening pups on the internet for one with better temperament than the last. Of course, that doesn’t insure anything, but we’re at least trying to be proactive.

I don’t know if any of you have dogs that have the innate talents and skills that Fancy had, but another thing - besides the nonstop barking, biting of friends and family members - that I won’t miss is how Fancy had a tendency when scared to, well, lose the contents of her bowels. The old expression “scare the crap out of” must have been coined by a chihuahua owner.

So, in Fancy’s honor, I thought I would conclude this reflection and sendoff with a poem:

ODE TO FANCY

Fancy, you were a good dog
Wrapped in golden fluff
Now that you’re gone
We don’t have to pick up your stuff.