No Manure – No Mess – No Milk

It’s seems we’re increasingly living in society where people want everything pain-free, strain-free, maybe even brain-free. They want rewards without commensurate effort, results without having to experience any difficulties. If we were dairy farmers, our motto might be, “We want the milk without the manure.”

Alas, that’s not how life works. We don’t become physically fit by sitting in a recliner watching exercise videos. We don’t excel in school and get smarter without the hard work of reading, studying – and thinking. We can’t experience the joys of parenthood without putting up with dirty diapers, messy rooms, unanticipated expenses, and the variety of maladies kids acquire. And we can’t succeed in our careers without experiencing setbacks, disappointments, and if necessary, investing longer hours on the job than we’d like.

My friend, Mike Landry, recently published a book, Advancing Through Adversity: Turning the Worst of Times into the Best of Times, in which he details the struggles he and his family endured over an 18-month period after he was wrongfully sued by a company he had started. Even though he didn’t want this adversity, Mike discovered it would become an excellent teacher, providing important, life-changing lessons he couldn’t have learned in any other way.

He writes, “During tough times, most of us pray for a way out, or plead for our troubles to end. We want answers, resolution, or healing…. If all we do is focus on the given situation or the other people who are involved, concentrating on fixing it or getting through it, we could miss how God wants us to use the circumstances to teach and change us.”

Mike’s right. So often when confronted with difficult problems, all we want is to “fix it” or to “get through it.” But as I’ve found repeatedly throughout my life and career, we gain the most while in the midst of confounding challenges. Adversity can teach much about patience, perseverance, humility, coping with disappointment, compassion, and, perhaps most important, it serves as a wonderful resource for testing and strengthening our faith.

This truth is revisited frequently in the Scriptures, including Proverbs 14:4 which points out, “Where no oxen are, the trough is clean; but much increase comes from the strength of an ox.” Stating it in other terms, without the manure – putting up with the mess – we can’t have any milk.

Another friend, Ted Sprague, casually cited this verse years ago in Atlanta, Ga. during a crucial civic planning meeting that had taken a decidedly negative turn. After he quoted a paraphrase of the passage, “Where no oxen are the stables are clean,” the room fell silent for a few minutes. Then someone responded, “You know, Ted’s right!” The tone of the meeting instantly shifted, taking on a much more positive focus, and important decisions made then influenced the course of the city for many years afterward.

There were problems to be faced, but the benefits from being willing to confront those difficulties far outweighed the drawbacks. That’s why today a plaque behind Ted’s desk quotes the verse along with a concluding statement, “There’s a price to accomplishment.”

The apostle Paul, who knew adversity as an almost constant companion, wrote, “we also glory in tribulation, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope” (Romans 5:3-4). Not to be outdone, another apostle, James, urged his fellow believers to “count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing” (James 1:2-4).

If we never had to wait expectantly for something, we’d have no need to be patient. If we didn’t have to deal with struggles, we’d have no need for perseverance. But when we face hardships through the eyes of trusting faith, confident God is with us and using them to mold us into the people He wants us to be, we can indeed “glory in tribulation.” We can “count it all joy,” even when we never would have asked for the circumstances that beset us.

Yet another friend from years ago, Dr. Gerald Durley, encountered racism as a young African-American coming to the South for the first time. The mistreatment he experienced was undeniable and unforgettable. Nevertheless, years later he could look back upon the pain of prejudice and rejection, recognizing how God had used it to shape his character and equip him for a fruitful career later in life. And he could say, with all sincerity, “Thank you for adversity.”

The moral we can take from this is simple: If we keep foremost in our minds that without the manure we’ll never be able to enjoy the milk, we can join Mike and Ted and Jerry in the paradox of gratitude, declaring, “Thank you, God, for adversity!” 

Good-bye, Old Friend

It’s amazing the way pets weave themselves into our hearts. One day a fuzzy little ball of fur with a hyperactive tail enters our lives and next thing you know, it’s declared itself part of the family. Molly was that way. She joined our family about 17 years ago, a part-Chihuahua, part-terrier puppy, a wagging, bouncing bundle of life.

Alas, 17 in dog years is nearly forever, and a few weeks ago we knew Molly’s tenure on earth was coming to an end. Over the past year she had lost what the French call “joie de vivre,” the hearty and carefree enjoyment of life most dogs manifest. The house-training lessons she had learned so well were often forgotten. Her almost non-stop sleeping was interrupted only by brief trips outside, quick munches on a biscuit or wet food wrapped around medication, or occasionally wandering around the house, as if trying to remember something she had forgotten. And going up and downstairs had become difficult with balky hind legs.

So rather than waiting to see her in obvious distress, and after consulting with our veterinarian and some online research, we regretfully concluded, “It’s time.” With sedation preceding the euthanizing drug, Molly’s passing was peaceful – and tearful for us. Mostly mine, since I’m the one whose eyes water during romantic comedies. Even knowing it was the proper, humane thing to do, saying good-bye to a beloved old friend is never easy.

In the biblical creation account, God declared, “It’s not good for that man should be alone” (Genesis 2:18), so He created animals to become Adam’s companions (before deciding Eve was a better solution). It doesn’t say God introduced canines into the biological mix at that point, but I suspect He did, in part because some of the positive traits we see in dogs reflect the Lord’s attributes – and qualities He desires to see in us.

Things like faithfulness. Trust. Patience. Devotion. Steadfastness. Unconditional love. Recently I read a suggestion that if you want to see whether your spouse or your dog loves you more, put them both in the trunk of your car and close it. Then see how each responds when you reopen the trunk 15 minutes later.

We could leave Molly alone in the house for hours at a time, and when we returned home she was there with tail going 60 miles an hour, bouncing up and down, ready to go out and then come back in to play – or chomp on a biscuit. I don’t recall her once asking, “I wonder if these guys are going to feed me today?” or “What’s taking them so long?” Her faith and trust in us, deserved or not, was absolute. If only our confidence in God were so complete.

As with anything else we experience in life, Molly wasn’t all fun without any frustration. I won’t miss recent months of getting out of bed around 3 every morning to take her out before she went on the floor. For a short-haired dog, Molly managed to shed lots of hair year-round. She could turn any T-shirt into a dog-hair sweater in seconds. And to be honest, it will be a relief planning to travel without needing to ask, “What are we going to do with the dog?” But like all good pooches, Molly’s plusses far outnumbered her minuses.

After our vet had put Molly to sleep, I was reading in Proverbs and came across a familiar verse: “Where no oxen are, the trough is clean; but much increase comes by the strength of the ox” (Proverbs 14:4). In other words, to get the results you want, you must be willing to put up with some messes. That passage could be adapted for canines: Where no dogs are, the house is clean; but much joy comes from the wag of a dog’s tail.

Today the doggie hairs Molly had strewn so lavishly around the house have been swept up. Her food and water bowls have been stored away, maybe for future use. But not soon. And the tennis balls she enjoyed playing with now lie still, no longer her toys of pursuit. But Molly’s memory will remain wrapped around our hearts forever.

James 1:17 states, “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” For us, Molly was one of those good and perfect gifts from above, perhaps God’s way of saying, “Enjoy this loving little friend. And learn some things about Me in the process.” And for that we’re extremely grateful.

Good-bye, Molly. We love you. Hope to see you again one day, the Lord willing.

Life Is Messy

Recently I was at the breakfast bar of a local healthy foods grocery store where I meet with a man I'm mentoring. The store, undergoing extensive renovations, was a mess. Beams, boards and plastic coverings everywhere. It reminded me of a couple of years ago when we were remodeling our kitchen. My wife and I have enjoyed the finished result, but it was a messy process getting there.

These examples illustrate a truism we must accept: Life’s messy.

Think about it. Two people fall in love and marry, envisioning a life of idyllic harmony. That lasts about two hours. Then both realize they’ve married someone as imperfect as they are, and the lifelong challenge of building a lifetime partnership begins.

Soon the same couple eagerly awaits the arrival of their first child. The special day comes and the father almost passes out after observing the messy birthing process. The nurses clean up the baby, put a fresh diaper on it, and what does it do? It makes a mess. When they feed it for the first time, it spits up. For a fleeting moment they wonder, “We waited nine months for this?”

My wife would readily point out my home-office is always in various stages of “mess.” In fact, after I finish writing this, my goal for the rest of the day – and probably tomorrow – is to plow through piles of papers that have accumulated while I’ve been finishing a couple of projects. (The inserted illustration I've borrowed is not an actual depiction, but it’s not that far off.)

In physics, entropy refers to the tendency for things to move from order to disorder. I submit my office as evidence.

Other aspects of life are messy as well. Investing in lives of other people, helping them work through problems, can be plenty messy. Hiring new employees in the workplace can be messy, teaching them how to do their jobs properly and fit into the company culture. If those employees don’t meet expectations, correcting them – or even terminating them – can be especially messy.

But most of the time, a mess is necessary to create a masterpiece. You think Leonardo da Vinci didn’t spill some paint while painting the Mona Lisa? Don’t you imagine the Greek artist that sculpted the Venus de Milo didn’t leave chunks of marble around as he busily removed all the stone that didn’t fit his image of Aphrodite?

The Bible offers an interesting observation about the necessity of messes: “Where there are no oxen, the manger is empty, but from the strength of an ox comes an abundant harvest” (Proverbs 14:4) In other words, if you want the productivity of an ox, you have to put up with its manure.