Sunday, August 20, 2006

Ill Grill Thrill with Molten Spill

My most practical advice piece yet. (my only one, actually) Here's my "I almost burned my house down and killed us all this month, but I didn't, and I lived so I can help you not almost burn your house down and kill yourself too" advice blog. (I'm thinking of making this a weekly series)

A friend donated us his old gas grill which we've enjoyed. Little did he know I'd be melting parts of it down to it's base metals. But we love it.

Oh - a word about the pleasures of having gas. (in my grill, that is) We had a charcoal grill which some people simply swear by. "You just can't get flavor from gas like you can from charcoal." I am willing to concede them this point, if they are willing to concede that the time to flavor increase ratio is too low. When I have time to go through the charcoal process, it will mean I've got lots of free time - during which I'm going to go out on a date or something. When you have 40 minutes to do dinner before you've got to be somewhere charcoal just won't do it. Imagine cooking directions like this; preheat oven for 45 minutes, then bake xxxx for one hour, but don't wait too long to start or you'll blacken it, or wait to long and run out of heat. So since I have gas (hee hee) I save meals and make up for what I lack in precision timing.

As you probably know, when you grill you need to burn off the stuff from the previous grilling. (unless you like grill jerky) Last time I decided to invest in the future; I'll burn off that stuff now! said I. So I took the meat off and cranked up the heat. In I went, ate, played with the kids, relaxed...etc.

Just before bed we were cleaning up the kitchen when it dawned on me: the grill.

It was no longer on. I was wondering how much propane we had left - and had it not been for the fact that it must have went out after just 3 hours, I'm sure I'd be blogging about what we salvaged from the ashes of our home.

I now have liquid metal (solder?) which dripped down onto the deck. The logo thing on the grill melted down half around the thermometer - which cracked from the heat. This sagged because the bolt and screw that held on melted! Plastic tray to the side? Melted away from the grill. Here are some pictures.





Anyhow - we're glad to still be alive. My advice to you is - be lazy. Wait to clean your grill until the next time. Or, I guess some of the non-flavor merits of charcoal: non-explosive, self-extinguishing.

Those aren't bad.


Tuesday, August 01, 2006

More than Echos


My 2nd child was born just a week ago. Hannah. She's beautiful and my wife and I are thrilled. Even our son (2) seems to think she's pretty interesting. (we'll see if that one lasts!)

A thought that has been bouncing around in my head as I awaited her birth - how remarkable it is that my wife and I have created a life, and how significant that life is.

My worldview (which, though this seems intolerant in the present day; I think is the right one) has near its core the concept that we are eternal. We have souls that are enduring forever and life here and now in the world is but a foreshadow of the future one. We are not the source of our un-endingness, but have our very lives as a gift from God, and part of that gift includes eternity.

Anyway, with that worldview in mind, here is what is remarkable to me: My wife and I have now had a part in the creation of 2 eternal beings. For all eternity, there will be 2 additional persons that would not have existed if Rachael and I had not created them. (granted, our part is quite small in that act of creation, and still wholly dependent on God)

This might seem like a "well, duh" to you, but it really strikes me. I truly can shape the eternal future. Isn't that amazing? Our choice to have children will have real, direct and permanent effect on all of time. Forever will look different because we lived and loved and had kiddos.

When the bible talks about man being made in God's image this includes both being eternal, but also being a creator. Together, my wife and I have the capacity to create another life - one that will exist forever.

That is wild to me.

My life matters. The choices I make matter - not just in their immediate context and interactions, but forever! There are impacts and implications that will not be "echos in eternity" as the line from Gladiator goes, but they will be concretely eternal. I matter. My life matters. My choices matter - forever.

It's also interesting to me that having this temporary life here leading up to an eternal life elsewhere does not diminish this life's importance - quite the opposite. In this short span on earth, I will shape, to a humble degree, what that eternity will be like. This life is of gargantuine importance! It's a limited opportunity to make eternal impact.

Anything less cheapens it. I recently watched Aeon Flux. (which turned out better than it started) Without spoiling it, you realize that they are dealing with questions of immortality, quality of life and legacy. At the end there is a line that says "we're meant to die, and our job is to do the best we can and hope that the next generation will do better." (paraphrased)

This initially sounds poetic and true, but as I think about it - it's not. Just because death happens doesn't mean it's what's supposed to be. If it is supposed to be, why is it continually, in all cultures such a shock, a source of distress, a heart wrenching dissappointment? It certainly doesn't feel like it's the natural order of things. People throughout time have taken the opposite stance - regardless of culture or religious views. People cling to life, they strive to be cured of diseases, defy aging. Then they weep and somehow feel cheated when a mother, sister, son are taken away. It's not what we're meant for - we're meant to live. Death is completely unnatural.

Then, if my existence ends when I die and my hope is that the next generation to do better - well, that doesn't feel right either. If I no longer exist after I die - what do I care comes after me? There is zero benefit to me whether I have lived as a noble king or wretched pauper. If I'd been a self sacrificing saint or just sought my own personal comfort at the expense of others. It's irrelevant.

For the next generation then, the only concern I might have are for my kids and direct family. Other than that, I don't really care about anyone else. Why should I? (if I had that world view) But really - why will my kid's quality or quantity of life matter? If there is nothing after life here, then it doesn't really matter what life here was like - ultimately. If my kids live a great life, cure cancer, help countless poor and destitute and have monuments and statues named after them - what's the difference? They may as well have been murderous monsters if there is nothing after death. Ultimately, at the end of the human race our lives made no difference, because there isn't a greater context than the one we're in.

If there is just this life to lead and nothing afterward - all things to which we ascribe meaning and morality ultimately meaningless. All notions of purpose will be consumed by non-existence.

This isn't how people innately live either. People generally have a sense that what they do matters. They have a sense that there is a purpose to life. (even if they're not sure what it is, they still have a sense that there's one to be found) They have a sense that they could possibly do things that will outlast them.

Anyhow - with both my children, when they were born my first thoughts surrounded the idea of "potential." From their first minute of life I marveled that they too will have a hand in shaping eternity - hopfully with waves of goodness, nobility and selflessness. It will be their choice in the time they have here on earth.

I don't know how long they have, but I know that they whatever they choose to do will have much more than "echos in eternity" - They'll create very real, very lasting effects. I can't wait to see what they will be.

I think I'll go give them each a kiss and tell them how much and how long their little lives matter.