My friend Jesse says that “ice cream is the only dessert; all other sweets are merely substitutes.”  I happen to be in total agreement.

Last week our wives decided to go away for the evening, celebrating a birthday or something, so Jesse and I decided to drown our loneliness in ice cream.  Not just any ice cream, mind you!  We remembered from our youth of an old fashioned ice cream parlor that had an ice cream feast: enough for two but often consumed by one.

So we set the GPS and headed for our destination 90 miles away.  “What are we going to do if we get there and the ice cream parlor is no longer in business?”  “It’s the process, not the destination that matters,” we determined.

We each had one of the “Belly Busters,” he had the old time cutie and I had the trough fit for a pig.  Each had six scoops of ice cream along with various other frills.  When we finished the waitress stopped by, dropped her jaw and said, “You ate it all!”  “Yes,” we replied, reflecting the tone of “DUH!”  “I’ll be right back,” she said.

The next thing we knew the siren was sounding and out came our waitress banging on a big drum and announcing that she wanted everyone’s attention.  Calling on us to stand, she then proceeded to detail for the whole restaurant each of the ingredients we had consumed.  She then had us push up our snouts and repeat a piggish confession of gluttony.  She awarded us with ribbons that said something like, “I made a pig of myself at Farrell’s Ice Cream Parlor.”  Sometimes the line between humiliation and pride is thin.

(Note: The part that bothers me is not the fact that I ate all of it.  No, it was the fact that I didn’t have to force down one bite; it all went down so smoothly!)

Now Jesse and I have been friends since 1981 and in the past few years haven’t spent much time together.  It was time we did.  We talked about families, jobs, retirement, cars, sports, commuting, technology, beliefs, friendship and who we are becoming.  Our conversation covered much more territory than the 180 miles we drove that day.  That evening as we parted, we gripped each other’s hand and said, “We’ll have to do this again … soon.”

You see, it really was about the process; the ice cream was just topping on the cake.

… Tom

I guess I’m a little odd.  Each morning as I leave for the office I look toward the east hoping to catch the sunrise.  This morning I was captivated.  The clouds lay across the east as a blanket lies across the foot of a bed: long, red-orange rolls of clouds with sections of deep turquoise sky peeking through.  Below the clouds, the mountain range was a silhouette; arising above and over my head spread the midnight blue of a cloudless night sky not yet painted with the colors of morning.  And I wondered at the beauty.

A few miles later with the view of sunrise in my mirrors, I approached two multistory glass-front buildings.  The windows were glowing with the orange sunrise; man’s creation reflecting God’s creation.  This is where I got a little odd; I cried.

Of course, this isn’t the only time I could be accused of being odd.  I’ve been know to grab people and drag them (not literally) outside or up the elevator to the 10th floor just to see a rainbow, a sunset, or snow capped mountains.  You see, I think that our ability to wonder is as much a gift from God as the beauty of His creation.  How can one stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon or at the brink of Niagara Falls and not experience wonder?

“The heavens declare God’s glory; the sky displays his handiwork.”  (Psalm 19:1)

Stop.  Look.  Listen.  Touch.  Smell.  Feel.  Wonder.  Have you ever wondered?

Come to think of it, I’ve been misspelling a word.  You see, when it comes to wondering at creation, I guess I am a little awed.

… Tom

On my way to work one day this week, I heard a news report about a landscaper who killed his boss with a shovel.  The reason?  The boss had made critical comments about the employee’s work.  What is going on in this person’s life that he would make this choice in the heat of the moment?

Just then an SUV, making a triple lane change across my rear bumper, reminds me of instances of road rage that have ended with similar results.  A driver cuts us off and we take it personally.  Some drivers choose to just let it go; others choose to act out in rage.  What causes a person to become so angry?

How many times have I been in a situation where I had to make an instant choice and I ended up making a good one?  There have been times when I realized how easily I could have made a bad choice.  That’s a scary thought!  Although I made a good decision, the wrong thing to do was just a choice away.

When we have time to think through our decisions, our choices are based on the information we’ve gathered and the resources we have at hand.  But when faced with a situation where a choice must be made in an instant, what resources do we pull from?

I learned as a child that what we put in our hearts and minds is what spills out when we are shaken.  Jesus said that “the things that come out of the mouth come from the heart….”  Could it be that what I spend my days thinking, reading, watching, playing and listening become the resources I use when I need to make an instant choice?  Could it be that, in those moments of passion, the resources we use to make choices are not in our hands but in our hearts?

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is worthy of respect, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if something is excellent or praiseworthy, think about these things.”  — Paul, Philippians 4:8 (New English Translation).

… Tom