Lou Swanson

“I can see your name is Lou,” the TV reporter confidently stated as he approached my grandfather outside of his beach cottage. The reporter looked up at the “Lou’s Haven” sign over the cottage door, and continued, “Can I get your last name, too, and then ask you a few questions?” He had come to do a story about some recent happenings at the beach, and had seen my grandfather puttering around outside.

All the beach cottages had names. Lou’s Haven sat next to the Patricia Lee and the Silver Sands, just down from the Pilot and the Open Deck, near the Summer Place and the Sandbox. In my grandfather’s case, Lou built the cottage. Lou named the cottage. Lou sold the cottage to my grandparents. But my grandfather was not Lou.

So with a mischievous gleam in his eye, my grandfather – Joe Connolly – responded, “Swanson. With an ‘O’. Lou Swanson,” and then proceeded to answer the reporter’s questions.

That night, after the segment aired with Joe Connolly’s face and “Lou Swanson” emblazoned across the bottom of the screen, the calls flooded in to my grandparents. Lou Swanson? Everyone wanted to know, why Lou Swanson? My grandfather’s response: “Well, the reporter didn’t seem interested in my real name, so I said ‘OK. Have it your way.’”

And my way is typically right on par with that reporter – making snap judgments and inferring things before gathering all the facts, before asking questions, and without taking time to listen. We are supposed to be quick to listen and slow to speak (James 1:19), but we tend to reverse the two so we are quick to speak and slow to listen.

I mean, who’s got time to be patient these days while someone drones on and on and on about their situation or what they are going through. Can’t we can make a few quick assumptions after they’ve said a couple of words, and solve the problem in three speedy bullet points? I’ve got a full schedule here! Time to move on to the next issue already!

How can you tell if you’re not listening? When you start finishing someone’s sentences for them, when you start thinking “Oh, I know where this is going” as someone starts talking, and when you assume someone’s name is Lou. 

Take heed and listen up, because as the Message Bible so eloquently puts it, “Answering before listening is both stupid and rude” (Proverbs 18:13).

What if . . .

My eyes snapped open when I heard it. I had been starting to doze off on a bus tour as part of a professional conference. My mind lazily wandered from one foggy, disconnected thought to the next. Looking out the window as the bus chugged down the highway, I caught a glimpse of a sign for an approaching exit, and recognized the name of the town.

A girl I went to college with had grown up in that town. My thoughts drifted back to years ago, and I remembered, recounted and reminisced as my eyes drooped. Then my mind switched to questions: What’s she’s doing? Where is she now? What if things had turned out different …?

Anything can trigger a memory. These reminders conjure up thoughts, feelings and emotions that range from comforting to spine-tingling. A certain song prompts you to remember a specific event. A smell reminds you of Grandma’s kitchen. A unique sound transports you back to the place where you first heard it.

In my case, it was a simple place name that caused my thoughts to meander. But I was a different person back in college, with different priorities, different thoughts, and different motivations.

Where does your mind go when it wanders? Ever catch yourself wondering or dreaming or hoping things could’ve been different or better? There is a danger in letting our thoughts repeatedly return to the past, especially if that past did not include God. If we continually dwell on what was, then we begin to lose focus on where we are right now, and lose sight of where we want to go.

So before my thoughts drifted too far off the road with my “What if …?” question, I heard “Then you wouldn’t know me.” Like sudden, strong gust of wind, the Lord snapped me back to the present tense, and the fog blew away with His answer. I was instantly awake, alert, and looking around to see who on the bus was invading my thoughts.

Once we know the Lord, He will provide corrections to our course as needed. Which is why Isaiah says, “Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it’” (30:21).

Are you listening?

Influence

bostinno.com

I grew up surrounded by the unique and very distinct Boston accent. It sounds like this, and please, don’t try this at home; I am a professional: “Pahk the cah in Hahvahd yahd.” (Bonus Bostonian dialect lesson: The term “wicked” means “very, very,” as in “That scientist from Hahvahd is wicked smaht.”) R’s on the end of my words and syllables didn't exist, since that was the way everyone around me spoke.

So when my accent and I moved to North Carolina State University, I sounded just a wee bit different from the locals. “Where y’all from?” was the initial response. (Bonus southern dialect lesson: “y’all” is one person; “all y’all” is a group of people.) Once someone knew I was from the Boston area, the very next thing out of someone's mouth would be: "Hah! So do y'all paaaaahhk your caaaahh in Haaaahhvaaaahhd yaaaahhd?" 

After being totally immersed in Southern culture for almost a year, my R’s reappeared occasionally. I even developed a slight drawl. Like when I got a flat – I had to change the “tar” instead of the “tie-ah.”  

When I came back to Boston, friends would say “Sean, wheah you been? You sound wicked Southern.” Back at school, friends would drawl, “I reckon you been back in Boston. Y’all sound funny.” Back and forth I went between accents and dialects without consciously realizing I was adapting and changing based on what I heard from those people around me. Although I liked sounding, and therefore being, different from people, I was insecure enough that I didn't want to be that different.

The more we are around someone or a particular group, the more likely we are to be influenced by them, consciously or not. We start to act like them, pick up certain habits, and repeat what they say. Kids mimic their parents. Employees act like the boss to advance. We try to fit into the crowd.

… which becomes a problem when the influence of those people causes us to drift away from God. As Paul warns, “Bad company corrupts good character” (1 Corinthians 15:33). As my Southern friends might say, “Ornery people’ll make yuh ornery, and that’ll git y’all in a whole mess of trouble.”

What kind of sway are people having on you, and do you realize it? Because when it comes to the influence other people have on the way you live, the way you act, and the way you talk, all y’all bettah be wicked caheful.

Sound of the Psalms

Thanks to Keith Johnson and Life Covenant Church for allowing me to give the sermon back in August.

It's all about communication using descriptions of sound from the Psalms. Trust me, I'm an acoustical engineer.

What's that kid with the purple head saying - LIVE

From the Life Covenant Church 2012 Cabin Fever Follies.

Silence

Microsoft clip art

Remember a serious crush you had when you were in high school? Michelle and I were in typing class together (Flashback: The class taught kids how to use a typewriter correctly. You know, those clackety things people used before computers to create documents?). From what I could tell we hit it off pretty well. Joking and laughing and occasionally stealing glances when the teacher wasn’t looking – needless to say, I was a little distracted during class. Maybe it’s because of those interactions that still, to this day, I don’t know how to keyboard correctly.


Yet, even though I spoke with her, I remained silent about The One Thing That Mattered: how I felt about her. And so, I remained trapped in my own, self-constructed solitary confinement of unspoken hopes and dreams.

I drowned in that same silence when I found out she had started dating some guy. Some other guy. Some guy in our typing class, no less, who probably used his superior typing skills to woo her, unlike me who continued to hunt and peck. Some guy who apparently had no problem talking to her on a deeper level, unlike me who kept silent about such things.

So while they started joking and laughing and stealing glances, I ached inside, left to repeatedly wonder “What if I had said . . . ” Every word I failed to speak when I had the chance pressed down like stacked weights on my chest. Her same actions that used to thrill me, now tore me apart. I resembled David’s remarks in Psalm 39, “When I was silent and still, not even saying anything good, my anguish increased” (Psalm 39:2).

By not saying anything of importance or meaningful to her, in effect, I abandoned her ears to let them roam and find something of substance to listen to; something our fellow typist verbalized.

What is The One Thing That Matters to you that is being left unspoken, and to whom? How could your relationship with God, your friends and your family improve if you said something – anything - about how you honestly feel and what you think? During this time of resolutions to start the new year, make it yours to start tearing down the walls of silence.

Ringing Rocks

Ever listened to a pile of rocks? Individually, a rock may thud or clicked when struck. But if you put the right pile of rocks together, they can make music in a variety of notes and tones. The Ringing Rocks, near Pipestone Pass east of Butte, not only look different from the other rocks in the area, this jumble of various sized chunks of rock and nooks and cracks and shapes sound different, too. In fact, due to their high iron content, they don’t sound like rocks at all. When struck with a hammer, the rocks in the pile chime and resonate like bells.


Each ringing rock sounds different. The sound varies depending on the rock’s size, and the size of the gaps formed by the other rocks surrounding it. To silence one of the rocks, just isolate it from the pile. Then it sounds like every other rock. No chime. No bell sound. No point in trying to find the right combination to tap out a rockin’ version of Stairway to Heaven, dude.

My Bible study small group bears a striking resemblance to that pile of rocks. As members have come and gone, our backgrounds and life experiences have been widely diverse: plumber, lawyer, engineer, safety professional, human resource manager, analyst, computer geek, politician, electrician, stay-at-home dad, musician, etc. If God had not put us misfits together, most of us may never have crossed paths, let alone unconditionally loved each other.

Over the 11 years the group has been meeting, our diversity has helped us all complement each other. One’s strength helps overcome another’s weakness. One’s experience informs and teaches another. One’s inspiration helps another press on. One’s knowledge expands another’s understanding. Without their support, I am sure someone else would be writing these devotional-like messages each month, not me. The group has helped each of us become better fathers, better husbands, and better Christians so we at least have some idea about how to act and react with the world around us, no matter how tough it gets.

We all need to be part of some kind of group that provides support, insight, warning, correction and encouragement, because “as iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another” (Proverbs 27:17). The Lord did not intend for us to be isolated individuals because a single lump of iron can’t do much. But together, we can start to become formed into who He wants us to be. The right group’s support can even help a seemingly dull, hard, irregular and rock-like individual make beautiful music.