It wasn’t until my late twenties that I was introduced to General Tso’s Chicken; the oriental dish of mixed vegetables, chicken and a pungent brown garlic sauce.
Coming from a small mid-western city of about forty-five thousand people, and having parents who thrived on southern cooking and comfort food, I was somewhat sheltered to the flavors of the world. If it didn’t spring up in an Ohio garden, I probably never ate it as a kid. Ethnic cuisine was spaghetti and chow-chow, something concocted in the hills of Kentucky, I think. I discovered rather quickly that I had a palate for General Tso’s; I especially like the Szechwan influence where half way through the meal my nose would open up like a miniature Niagara Falls, but it was a good, very good Niagara Falls. Most of the time I order my General Tso’s with the rice on the side so that I can savor the sauce without the interference of the rice. I’m perplexed how a culture can produce one of the most flavorful dishes on the planet (General Tso’s) while at the same time produce one of the blandest accompaniment (rice).
I think I might have been a very typical mid-western boy growing up; loved football, basketball, and back in the day, even appreciated what Pete Rose, Johnny Bench, Joe Morgan and The Big Red Machine could do on the baseball field.
I went to school, played kickball in the late afternoon with my friends, rode bikes, listened to the Ohio State Buckeyes football on the radio in the fall and was captivated by the occasional Playboy magazine my friend’s dad would happen to have around their house.
I soon discovered I liked the look of a woman’s naked body—God had done something truly remarkable with a rib.
The spiritual influence of God in my home was minimal; I think my mom was probably much more devout than six kids and an alcoholic husband would ever allow her to be.
Somewhere around thirteen my male hormones kicked in as though I’d discovered a new drug. I instantly became aware of the fact that girls looked great, smelled great, and have great mystery about them. In the words of John Grisham’s Harry Rex in A Time to Kill, “you gotta love the Lord for making something like that”. I don’t want any of this to sound like I’m glorifying sexuality apart from how God intended it; I’m not, this is my journey.
So you know I like General Tso’s and you kind of get the feeling that somewhere sex came into my life. And, that somewhere happened in my mid-teens. But, I must tell you that today, thirty some odd years later I love General Tso’s and Sex.
But it’s not just my love for these, but for all of us who call ourselves followers of Christ, and the things we love; IPODS and BMW’s, American Idol and Big Mac’s, XBOX and plastic surgery, Stephen King, Beyonce’, sleep and Gucci handbags.
You see, we all love something; often we love the best of something, like filet mignon and lobster, or turtle cheesecake and Direct TV. My personal struggle has been, how do I savor and love Jesus more than General Tso’s and Sex?
How do I get to the point that Jesus tastes better, smells better, looks better, feels better and IS better than General Tso’s and Sex?
If you’re looking or hoping for a deep theological discussion, this isn’t it. If you’re looking for ALL the answers, you’ll not find them here. If you think I have ALL the answers, forget it because I’ve already disappointed you; walk away now, there’s nothing here for you! But, if you’re looking for something that might help you savor and love Jesus more, maybe there are some things we can discover together.
You’ll see that I use the phrases “maybe”, “perhaps”, “I wonder”, and “could it be” quite frequently. I do so because I haven’t figured ALL these things out. I’m kind of “thinking out loud” as I write and you read. I toy with ideas, speculate vividly at times, and consider the unconsidered.
Somewhere in all of this I’m hoping that I’ll strike a chord with you (and maybe myself too), a chord that in some fantastic way is a breakthrough in each of our relationships with Christ.
I want to know how to savor and love Jesus more, in some real and tangible way. I read way too much of pious pontificating in books by well-meaning authors, who often want you to believe they’ve figured it ALL out and there is no more mystery to God. But, I’m convinced that God is full of mystery, and once I’ve figured him out he ceases to be the God of creation and becomes a God created in my image.
So, humanly speaking, I have some small idea how to love people, especially someone like my wife. I get to interact with her, and others, and that interaction is tangible. But, what’s not tangible is a God I can’t see, touch or smell.
When we think of human love relationships many words immediately pop into our minds; dating, romance, love, honesty, touch, desire, engagement, wedding, honeymoon, and sex. The list is limited only by our experiences and creativity. Some of us are more creative than others; so all those creative types probably end up with more experiences than us mediocre types.
I remember the day when it first dawned on me that I had an interest in my wife. I was riding the elevator with her at the company where the two of us worked; we’d known each other for a month or more because of our interaction on the job. But it wasn’t until we were alone on the elevator that interest was ignited…read my subpages for deeper thoughts on all of this.
