Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Uncle Johnny

Uncle Johnny was our fraternity cook. He lived downstairs in a room in the basement. He drove a Cadillac he "purchased" on the street. The locks were drilled out. He paid $175 for his false teeth. He got as far as the 5th grade. He could cook.


Well, except on the days we were bad. If we had a midnight snack and left his (oh, it WAS his) kitchen dirty, dinner would be "different." Uncle Johnny had a can of white pepper about the size of a Prius in the back of the kitchen cabinet. It was liberally sprinkled in, though and under dinner. Dessert, too.


We got the point. There were boundaries we future scientists and engineers must not cross or bear the consequences.


My life has been painful at the very times I pushed the boundaries. Oh, I would weasel and finger-point and defensively rationalize. But the truth was, I was bearing the bitter fruit of living outside God's Kingdom.


In Lent, I spend more time asking where some of the ugly fruit (anger, compulsions, procrastination, frenetic busyness) came from. I have crossed boundaries and wandered out of the Kingdom. Repentance is turning around and heading back home. I am thankful the way is always clear.

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