The Fear of the Lord

Today's Reading: Job 28-29; Acts 13: 1-25

Ok peep these verses from Job 28:

 12 "But where can wisdom be found?
       Where does understanding dwell?

 13 Man does not comprehend its worth;
       it cannot be found in the land of the living.

Yeah I feel you Job… where is this wisdom at? Where can it be found… But then later on he says the following:

 23 God understands the way to it
       and he alone knows where it dwells,

 28 And he said to man,
       'The fear of the Lord—that is wisdom,
       and to shun evil is understanding.' "

What is this “fear of the Lord” stuff? What the heck does that mean?

That is something that bothered me my entire life. It didn’t seem to make sense. I thought I was supposed to love God and that God had my back and such things. Why am I supposed to fear Him?

This comes up a lot in the Bible, especially in proverbs. I won’t claim to have complete understanding of this topic… but here is where I’m at with it now.

When I was about five years old I learned how to ride my bike.

That’s right… without training wheels baby! Don’t hate….

My dad and my stepmom used to take me and my sister out riding after school. It was a family thing we did together. We used to ride to the park and all kinds of far distances for my little five year old world.

But when he wasn’t riding with us he told me that I couldn’t ride in the street.

Say what!? Didn’t he know that I’m a bike riding professional? Lance Armstrong didn’t have nothin’ on me! Why couldn’t I ride in the street?

Now when I was three my older sister got hit by a car when riding her bike and broke her leg. So of course besides the common sense rule of not letting a five year old ride in the street there was also that fact to contend with.

But in my mind… shooooot, that wasn’t gonna happen to me! I was indestructible anyway. It’s all good.

So I decided to test him… I rode down the sidewalk between two houses and when I got to the driveway of the bottom house I circled back up to the next drive way in the street. Hey I wasn’t in the street long. It’s all good right?

Wrong.

Yep I got punished for that one.

But the key point was that I didn’t have sense enough on my own to know what was and was not dangerous for me. So Pops had to lay down rules for me to follow. Until I was about eight the main thing that kept me in line was the respect I had for my dad and knowing that he played no games when I crossed the line.

It was not my own understanding.

I never feared my Dad at all. Quite the contrary… I just knew that there were certain rules that he had and that I had to follow them.

I wonder if that’s where the “fear of God” comes in. Maybe a lot of these rules and guidelines that we don’t agree with or don’t understand are really in our best interest. Maybe they will protect us from things that we cannot see and cannot possibly understand.

Who knows? That’s all I’ve got for now.

What do you think it means to “fear the Lord”? Do you agree or disagree with your understanding of it?

Let’s discuss.

Father's Day

I awoke at 7 am to the sound of my phone ringing. I looked at the caller ID and smiled.

It was my Dad on the line.

He was calling me to confirm where we were going to meet for our Father’s Day lunch later that day. In the past I would have been annoyed at him calling me so early in the morning.

Couldn’t have you just texted a brotha?

But over the past several years my attitude has changed. I am finally starting to understand the true value of my Dad.

This path towards understanding and appreciation wasn’t always a smooth one. When I was a little boy I looked up to him so much. He was one of the engineers that helped design the three rockets on the back of the Space Shuttle (he was not the O-Ring guy). I thought this was incredibly cool. For all intensive purposes my dad was a rocket scientist.

How many kids can say that?

But in a lot of ways that’s all that I knew about him. I knew he was super smart and by extension I was smart, because of course how could I not be? But I didn’t know much else. I could tell you this though… I sure knew that he always had something to say about what it means to be a man.

Dad: Ok Mayne your chore is to take out the trash.

6 year old Me: But why, why can’t Shawnte do it?

Dad: Because women don’t touch trash, men do. That’s the man’s job.

6 year old Me: FINE!

Growing up was a lot like this. Sometimes I felt like an indentured servant. He had me scrubbing the carpets, weeding the lawn (it was all weeds!!!), hauling rocks, cutting the grass (when we had grass) cleaning the garage, planting flowers, changing tires... Every time that he had me do these things he would help for the first hour or so. We would do it together so that he could show me how it should be done. Then he’d leave me to do it myself.

Man I hated that.

He also made us go to church every Sunday. He’d always connect some life lesson that he had for me with some scripture in the Bible.

Super annoying!!!!

I even decided to read the Bible from cover to cover in high school just to see if all that stuff he was saying was true! (drats… it was).

The first time that I began to understand these lessons he was teaching me was in high school. He had a 1988 Toyota Tercel while my Stepmom was stylin’ in her Bonneville. One day on the way home from school the following conversation happened:

Dad: do you know why I’m driving this car and she is driving her car?”

Me: No, why?

Dad: Because if anyone has to drive the beat up car it’s the man. If you have two cars and one might stop on the road then you drive that car. If you have one car then she gets to drive it and you take the bus. It’s the man’s job to make sure his wife is safe and secure.

Years later when I look back on all of the lessons, and nagging, and hard labor I realize that he was doing the best that he could to prepare me to be a good man.

Being a man means being a leader. And being a leader means being the biggest servant.

As I have grown into being a young man I am seeing the fruits of his labor in my values. Just like the rest of us my dad wasn’t perfect, but he did always try his best to be the best man and father he could be.

So when I was stirred from my sleep at 7 am Sunday morning I awoke with a smile on my face. I was happy because that phone call meant that I still have the opportunity to learn more and grow more with the guidance of a great man in my life.

It may have taken me a while to fully appreciate it, but I’m glad that I do not take it for granted any more.

Thanks Dad.