my bold prediction about tonight’s election

Do you know what time it is? Do you know what to do about it?

It’s a few minutes before 6 am on Tuesday morning as I write this. I’m prepared to make a bold prediction on the results of today’s election. I’m setting the timer on this post so that it will launch at 6 pm CST. Let’s see if I get it right. No edits. No retakes. No back-peddling.

(Spoiler alert: No election result can change a single thing I’m about to say. That’s the beautiful thing about rock-solid truth. It stands unmoved in the low-visibility dust storm of human events and opinions.)

So, back to my original questions: Do you know what time it is? And, do you know what to do about it?

do you know what time it is?

When I ask if you know the time, I’m not talking about the hour and the minute. I’m talking about the season. The era of US and world events in which we find ourselves.

I have witnessed a lot of worrisome behavior on the part of Christians during this contentious election process. The caustic rhetoric has done it’s intended job — to strip away our varnish of faith and civility and expose our frightened and angry core.

The candidates’ campaign teams have wanted to motivate us. Because frightened, angry people are motivated people.They have done their work with devastating skill: A candidate you hardly knew a few months ago has grown to become one of your primary ways of sizing up the intelligence and motives of your friends and family. This candidate may have even become a part of your identity in a way that makes God himself jealous. (I believe there is a commandment about this, but I digress.)

Believe it or not, I see an upside to the fear and anger this election has revealed. Really? Really. I think for perhaps the first time in my lifetime, we Christians know what time it is. We understand the season. We agree with the Bible’s assessment of our times: times are dark and nearer the end than ever.

We want to do something about it. When I encounter deep darkness around me, I often turn to a rousing passage in Romans to get me fired up. It’s my go-to pre-game speech:

“This is all the more urgent, for you know how late it is; time is running out. Wake up, for our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. The night is almost gone; the day of salvation will soon be here. So remove your dark deeds like dirty clothes, and put on the shining armor of right living. Because we belong to the day, we must live decent lives for all to see. Don’t participate in the darkness of wild parties and drunkenness, or in sexual promiscuity and immoral living, or in quarreling and jealousy. Instead, clothe yourself with the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ. And don’t let yourself think about ways to indulge your evil desires.” (Romans 13:11–14 NLT) [emphasis added]

It’s like the Apostle Paul is in the locker room pushing me around, chest-bumping, and helmet-slapping me. “It’s now or never! How bad do you want it? Strap the armor on! Let’s go to war! Let’s win this one for Jesus!” I’m ready to run onto the field, into the darkness, against overwhelming odds, and deliver a blow for God or die trying.

That’s how many of us have felt in the ramp-up to today’s election. Times are dark. This culture is running sideways and upside down. They are coming for us. The numbers and momentum are in the enemy’s favor. We must go to war for Jesus. It’s now or never. We must go to war.

To that assessment, I say, “Finally.” Welcome to reality. Welcome to a view of the world that’s a little less whimsical and a little more biblical. Some of us have seen the storm clouds gathering for decades. Glad you finally know what time it is.

Which leads me to my second question: Do you know what to do about it?

do you know what to do about it?

So, here’s my bold prediction on the results of today’s election: You will feel sick about it.

Late tonight, you will turn off the TV, finish purging your Facebook friends, and put down your phone. And you will feel like a little bit of innocence has been taken from you. You will feel like you need a shower.

Even if your person wins, you will come away realizing once again that this world is dark and we nearer than ever to the end. Your fear and anger will either drive you to burrow deep into the distractions of everyday life, or to lash out against “them” — whoever “they” are.

In the aftermath of this election — this national catharsis of fear and anger — the question is: What’s our course of action in light of the fact this world is dark and closer to the end than ever? What’s our battle plan? What’s our strategy for defeating this sickening darkness?

Believe it or not, this is one of those rare times when there is a clear-cut, universal, rock-solid, dirt-simple solution. And, it’s even in the Bible, so you know it’s good.

The strategy has been staring me in the face for years, but I missed in until just a few weeks ago. The answer is hidden right in that passage from Romans that has been my go-to pep talk to go to war against the darkness of our times. Look at it again. Look closely. It’s right here:

an urgent strategy

“This is all the more urgent, for you know how late it is; time is running out. Wake up, for our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed.” (Romans 13:11 NLT) [emphasis added]

The answer is in the “this.” I feel the urgency. I hope you feel that urgency, too. We GOT TO DO SOMETHING. TIME IS RUNNING OUT. WAKE UP. But, what? What, in heaven’s name, is the thing that is “all the more urgent”? What is “this”?!?

The secret lies just a couple of verses above. This is going to be a bit shocking, so hang on. Are you ready to strap on your armor? Ready to go to war for Jesus with urgency and desperation against the deadly forces arrayed against our faith and our nation? Ok, then here’s the urgent plan that we must execute:

“Owe nothing to anyone—except for your obligation to love one another. If you love your neighbor, you will fulfill the requirements of God’s law. For the commandments say, “You must not commit adultery. You must not murder. You must not steal. You must not covet.” These—and other such commandments—are summed up in this one commandment: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Love does no wrong to others, so love fulfills the requirements of God’s law.

This is all the more urgent, for you know how late it is; time is running out. Wake up, for our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed.” (Romans 13:8–11 NLT)

Are you sick and tired or watching our nation crumble around us? Are you keyed up for a fight? Are you ready to storm the gates of hell, sword drawn to fight for all that is good, right, holy, and just? Good.

Love. Your. Neighbor. Bottom line. Love your neighbor.

the small answer to big problems

The answer to the big problems we face is surprisingly small. From God’s perspective, the way you choose to carry yourself among the people you encounter everyday could not be more important. This is everything. And, “this is all the more urgent” considering the time. We are deep into the night. It’s late. It’s time to wake up, to strap on the armor of light, and carry the presence of Jesus into our immediate circle.

This flips the script. Instead of framing the people around us — the other party, the other group, the other side — as the enemy we must see that in God’s battle plan we’re actually fighting for those people against an insidious spiritual enemy.

This is also a deep source of hope. Just when we begin to think that “little ol’ me” can’t possibly matter in the struggle, we learn that God’s plan for addressing the darkness of our world has involved the little people all along. That’s the strategy. That’s the urgent plan: We see and address the joys, sorrows, pains, and pleasures of the people in the place where we stand right now.

This is our protest. This our sugar in the gas tank of a corrupt system. This is our stick in the spokes of a wheel rolling downhill to destruction. This is our resistance. This is our bold act of defiance.

This is our deeply drawn furrow in the sand. This is where we stubbornly resist until the sunrise.

Love. Your. Neighbor.

the one remaining question

We know what time it is. We know what to do about it. There’s only one remaining question: Do we have the faith and courage to execute the plan?

Let’s direct the fear and anger exposed in this election to it’s proper, spiritual targets. Let’s abandon the nagging sins that have us running a low-grade spiritual fever. Let’s get focused and go to war.

Love. Your. Neighbor.

Filed under: commentary, culture, hope, news, reflections Tagged: clinton, democrat, election, faith, featured, hope, politics, predictions, religion, republican, trump, values

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3 lessons from my first Uber ride & how I escaped the surge

I had one more bad experience with the cab cartel this week. It was the final straw that sent me searching for a better way to get around without getting the run around. All the cool kids are using Uber these days. I gave it a whirl in Chicago this week. Despite one big uber gotcha that almost cost me 100 bucks (yeah, $100), it worked like a charm.

Here’s how I wiggled into and back out of that hundred-dollar Uber mistake — and a few other lessons I learned as an Uber n00b.

The Cab Cartel

I was on a turn-around trip to Chicago Wednesday for an afternoon meeting. Flew out of DFW at 6:30a. Flew back just after midnight. My game plan was to land at O’Hare and score a cab to the meeting location. Then, if I had some extra time, maybe I’d grab another cab and wonder down to the lake shore for a few hours then catch my flight back to big D.

I rolled up to the taxi stand O’Hare. It was a muggy morning — in more ways than one. The August morning weather was humid. Also, I was about to experience a near robbery. I had done my research and knew that the cab fare to the Chicago suburb I needed to reach should cost about $45-50. When I informed the taxi maitre d of my destination, he laughed. “These are city taxis. If they leave the city limits, they’ll charge you double time. It will be at least $120.” One way? One way. It was my turn to laugh.

The taxi stand man stepped around the corner of his booth. “I know a guy.” He pulled up a number on his phone. “It’s ringing.” He hands me the phone. I’m pretty sure we’re skirting some rules at this point. But, anything to save a few bucks.

Long story short, a Middle Eastern man in a black suv picks me up about 100 yards from the taxi stand. The taxi maitre d pretends not to see as I slip into the back seat. At this point, I’m guessing there’s about a 20% chance I’m in chapter one of an international spy thriller novel — the chapter where the sympathetic but stupid murder victim makes a fateful decision that puts him in the middle of a plot that’s far larger and more sinister than he could imagine. The bad news is that my body will wash up on the shores of Lake Michigan tomorrow morning. The good news is that Jack Ryan will be the one to discover my corpse and he will disrupt the global terrorist network’s plot before it’s too late. You’re welcome, America.

Well, turns out that I did not get murdered. But, I did get robbed. The fee for this 40 minute ride from the airport? $89. Ridiculous. But, in the process I did discover:

Uber Lesson One: Most people are not murderers. They are normal, hardworking people trying to make a living. In this world of fear and hyper-cynicism, I forget that.

But still, there’s no way in the world I’m going through that taxi / limo robbery scenario again.

Chicago skyline from Grant Park

Uber. Cheaper.

So, when my meeting ends and I’m ready to go downtown to check out the sights, I do what all the cool kids are doing and download the uber app. And, I’m shocked. My John Grisham inspired ride from the airport to this hotel in the western ‘burbs cost me $89. Uber says it can take me all the way back past O’Hare to the Field Museum on Lakeshore for… $43. And the car can be there in 2 minutes.

My first instinct is that this low price is somehow a trap. But, I’m trying to be a little less cynical (see lesson one). With a few taps, the car is on it’s way. I see the driver’s name and picture and the car’s license plate number. A late model Honda pulls up and checks out. In about 2 minutes, I’m in my first Uber.

We glide down the free as I calmly search the back seat for signs of criminal intent. It’s clean. Then, I slip into my trademark interview mode with driver Jose and pepper him with questions about my first Uber ride.

O: How long have you been driving?
J: “About 6 months. I’m leasing this car and trying to pay for it with rides.”

O: Why Uber?
J: “We men have our pride,” he says. “I got tired of asking my wife for cigarette money.”

O: What do you consider a successful week of Uber driving?
J: “We’re from the Philippines,” Jose says. “I drove big trucks with cargo for 5 years to pay my wife’s way through nursing school. Now, she works and I’m at home. I get bored and I want to buy stuff.” “Like cigarettes?” I chuckle. “Cigarettes…beer…maybe a new TV. But I don’t like stress. I only drive a couple of days a week. When I feel calm. I want to stay calm and get out of the house.”

O: Any lessons learned as a driver you’d pass along to other drivers?
J: “I learned this hauling for the fashion industry in LA — always carry snacks. You never know how bad traffic will be.” He pops the glovebox open to reveal his stash. “You want a cracker? They’re from the Philippines. They are amazing.”

(TLDR: My driver is nice, gives me some Uber tips, and offers me a pack of Pilipino crackers.)

I take the pack of SkyFlakes crackers he hands me. Minutes later, we arrive at the Field Museum and he drops me at the door. No money changes hands. The Uber app charges my card automatically when the ride is over. Clean and classy.

Uber Lesson Two: Unlike the Cab Cartel, Uber is straight forward, you know the cost ahead of time, and the pick-up and drop-off system in infinitely more human and convenient than going by cab.

Uber’s Secret Dark Side: The Surge

I do my thing in Chicago for a few hours. Then, a storm starts to roll in across the lake. The light’s perfect. I snap a few photos. Fat drops of rain slam into me. I pull on my rain jacket and scramble down Michigan Ave. where I take refuge in a coffee shop as the rain drops turn into slanted sheets of water rippling down the windows.

It’s all good. I’m feeling confident. Uber confident. I’ll pop open the app, dial up a ride, and get back to the airport with time to spare.

I pinpoint my location in the Uber app. I type in the O’Hare airport address and wait with soggy smugness as Uber calculates the fare…….. $158. Say what? I check again. Yup. Just hours ago, I took an Uber for twice the distance than I want to go now. That ride cost me $43. Now, I want to go half that distance. And Uber is quoting me a price 4 times higher. And my blood pressure goes 4 times higher. I quickly imagine several ways I can explain to Sarah why I spent $200 on cab fare for one day in Chicago. Every way results in an ER visit. Uber, what’s the deal?!

Turns out I’m a victim of something Uber calls “surge pricing.” Apparently, when Obama authorized the Surge in Afghanistan in 2009, there was something in the fine print that allowed Uber to jack up their rates in areas and times of day that are in high demand.

What that means for me is: 1. I have 2 hours to get to the airport. 2. It’s pouring rain. 3. And I’m beginning to wonder if Uber a double agent of the Cab Cartel. They’re shaking me down for an extra $100. What to do?

I begin scouring the web to research this surge pricing model and how to work around it. Here’s what I learn:

1. Uber surge pricing is only for limited times when demand increases. They say their motive is to lure more drivers into these temporarily lucrative areas.
2. Uber divides the cities where they operate into smaller geographical areas. Surge pricing is only applied to these smaller areas, not to the city as a whole.
3. According to driver forums, many Uber drivers don’t like surge pricing either. It often slows business because no one in their right mind pays $158 for a ride to the airport. Drivers will actually leave the area under surge pricing and head for nearby areas with less expensive fares.
4. You can use your feet to beat surge pricing. Use your Uber app map to see where drivers are clustering up for a clue where lower fares can be had. Or, you can download one of a handful of free apps that will show you the shortest route out of the surge affected area where you’re standing. (I used this one.)

And that’s just what I do. Thanks to the app, I see that if I walk about a mile south, I’ll cross out of the Uber surge zone. Sure enough, I see about 4 Uber cars on the map in that general area. So, off I go in the rain.

It’s about a 10 minute walk in the rain, but the further I get away from my first location, the lower the Uber fare becomes. Soon, I’m standing on a street corner in a random neighborhood across the street from a small college and Uber says they can give me a lift to O’Hare for $52. I’ll take it.

Uber Lesson 3: If you’re a Uber noober, be prepared for Uber surge pricing. When Uber tries to take you for a surge fueled ride, let your feet do the talking.

Surge pricing isn’t the end of the world for short rides, but getting slapped for 4x the normal fare on a 30 mile ride is no bueno.

Thankfully, I was picked up by a fascinating guy. An immigrant from Guatemala who is so proud that his son is going to college. As it turns out, it’s the college where I was just picked up. He has helped his son with his homework every night since first grade. He learned so much with his son that my driver decided to take his GED at the same time his son was graduating high school. So, they both got their diplomas this spring together.

Which brings me back to:

Uber Lesson One: Most people are not murderers. They are normal, hardworking people trying to make a living. In this world of fear and hyper-cynicism, I forget that.

Filed under: culture, GoWild, reviews, travel Tagged: chicago, featured, field museum, how to, reviews, taxi, travel, uber

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to the doers

It’s my birthday. Every year near my birthday, I try to create something. Write a song, take a photo, build a thing. Not because I like attention. Because I’m a complex character. When I make something, it’s my way of letting my soul take over my brain and hands. It’s how I know what I’m thinking and how I’m doing.

So, here’s this year’s “thing.”

What does it all mean? Growing older means adopting better heroes.  Seems everyone wants to give two cents they can’t afford to the outrage du jour. I used to admire most those who could craft an artful turn of phrase. Now, I look up to those who speak and provide their own illustrations. Those who wear their convictions on their hands like work gloves and not on their sleeves like jewelry. 

Call me old. I’m weary of disembodied words.

to the doers

Here’s to the doers.

The movers and shakers

the troublemakers

the no mistakers

who sift

and find the place

where truth meets grace

where knowing

is forged out

by going

through mists of doubt.

A blind blow made

the blade

rings true.

When words untested

first suggested it

indifference arrested it

’til unseen hands protested,

pulled them to their feet.

Wrists unbound

blindfold removed

toes twitched

fingers itched.

A gift too profound

to stand still.

The Wind rises

the Fire falls

to move and singe the mist

as free

they race the sun

to the line

and cross it.

While others post

and analyze

they metabolize

for it costs too much

to pay with words

alone.

Come with me,

you who hear.

Hand in mine

let’s cross that line

from seat

to feet

from knowing

to undergoing.

We’ll prove what’s true

when we

do.

Filed under: reflections Tagged: culture, featured, poem, reflections

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A Few Nuggets from Nawlins

To watch a man go where few have gone, I went to a place I’d never been.

The man’s name is Roland. He’s my cousin. And, he’s only the second person in the Wildman clan to ever graduate with a bachelor’s degree. From Loyola, no less. So, no pressure, but he now has to convince the rest of our family that college is worth it.

New Orleans was the place. I’d never been to the Crescent City. Several people in my life have traveled there and loved it. I got dozens of tips for what to see and where to eat. My gracious hosts treated me to day after day of delicious fare and fascinating sights. After a few days walking the city, I can summarize all that advice and experience as follows:

• Chicory is poison. It is not coffee.
• Don’t wear dark pants while eating beignets. That powered sugar is merciless.
• Never mind the other stuff (Po Boys, crawfish, booze). Make acquiring shrimp your top priority.
• Streetcars in daylight, charming. Streetcars at night, murdery and charming. Worth the risk in search of more shrimp.
• The WWII museum is legit.

All that to say, congratulations to Roland. May your education enrich your life and the lives of many others. And, may you not become a washed up has been who my kids use as an argument that college is a waste of time.

Filed under: culture, photos, tools & tips, travel Tagged: family, featured, loyola, museum, new orleans, photos, tips, travel, world war 2

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Bear & Bunny Do Easter

Last year, Chuck Bear wasn’t quite old enough to understand that those colorful eggs in the yard are worth looking for. This year things are different. And, he has a special Bunny to help him get in the holiday mood.

Plus, lots of time with Uncles Austin and Levi and Nanna and Grandpa.

An egg-cellent day for everyone.

Filed under: parenting, photos, wildlife Tagged: baby, easter, eggs, featured, holiday, kids, sarah, texas

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Grandma’s Two Wild Boys

How about sleeping on our sofa bed, waking up early every morning to the sound of a shrieking toddler, then making us all breakfast?

There aren’t many people who would have the courage to take such an offer. But Laurel did. Brave, brave woman.

With Grandma Laurel around, there have been many more smiles than there would have been as we’ve welcomed little Edward to the world.

 

Filed under: parenting, photos, wildlife Tagged: Chuck Bear, family, McKinney, photos, sarah, texas

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Edward Goes Homeward

Edward is home from the hospital and sleeping like a baby. And by that I mean he wakes every two hours demanding food. One of the biggest question marks was how Chuck Bear would respond to his new brother.

An answer to that question came at dinner. Chuck Bear has a habit of praying before dinner. His prayers amount to him listing all the things he is thankful for. It starts with “Thank you, God, for our food” then meanders through his other favorites: “Thank you, God, for trucks. Thank you, God, for trains. Thank you, God, for Lewis. Thank you, God for excavators.” All the things a little boy loves.

At dinner, Chuck Bear added something new to the list. He said, “Thank you God for the bubba.”

I think they’ll get along just fine.

Filed under: parenting, photos, wildlife Tagged: baby, Chuck Bear, edward, home, meeting, sarah

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