If Wrinkles Could Tell Stories

One thing I've learned from living in a city, is that wrinkles do, in fact, tell stories. Or else, they inspire me to make up the stories of individual people's lives and remind me to be grateful that my face will not always be so smooth.

I remember the first time I thought about wrinkles. I was on a missions trip and one of the men who went with us, Bob, had what our culture colloquially call "crows feet". I loved them and I turned to my Mom saying, "I can't wait until I have crows feet." She chuckled as she turned to me and asked me why on earth I should have such a desire. I told her that they were a sign of much smiling and laughter, and that was the story that I wanted my face to tell.

I am sure that we have all seen remarkable faces that seem to withstand the test of time. Abraham Lincoln's wrinkles continue to tell stories through his statue in the Capitol building. It is rumored that one side of his face is more tight and staunch, while the other side is more soft and compassionate. The one side of his face is supposed to resemble his famous "Honest Abe" title, while the other is supposed to demonstrate his love for the American people. Wrinkles do, in fact, tell stories.


But what of the ordinary person? Do their wrinkles tell stories? As I strolled through the metro I saw the face of a person that was sure to tell a story. I have never seen anyone with such sad wrinkles. The old woman's face was gaunt, as the wrinkles hung in the shape of a frown; the folds of skin sagging from her cheeks almost enveloping her mouth as she forlornly gazed off into the distance. These were not the wrinkles of a sour woman, but of someone who had lost hope. Her eyes gave it all away, for they looked on as if they could see no more. Even the light cast on her face from the metro could not muster up a shimmer in her face. It was as if she had been overcome by a never ending darkness and a inescapable depression.

I will never meet this woman again, but her wrinkles gave the etchings of a story that will  not remain untold. I suppose I shall never know the exact stories of all the people I see in the metro or on the street, but perhaps the stories that their faces tell have less to do with their outward appearance and more to do with their outlook on life.


While most commercial entities like CoverGirl and Glamour Magazine are trying to sell women of all ages products to eliminate wrinkles, make us look younger, and dye our hair, 15 year old me was set on finding me a pair of those crows feet. And even though modern cosmetic companies try to sell us products to erase the wear and tear of time, God tells us that wrinkles and gray hair are a sign of wisdom. 

Could it be that modern culture is trying to erase our stories?

I'll leave that question for another day, but for now, I think I'm going to go and find me some crow's feet. 

These two words

Our society is afraid of two words: submission and surrender. Each word rings differently in every persons ear. And even each gender and each culture reacts to these words in totally different ways. But generally, these two words always get the cold shoulder.

The idea of submitting and surrendering has such "no-can-do" implications to the average person, especially to your typical American.

Women in society are taught that submission is fatal. The feminist movement reminds us daily that women are too strong to let a man hold open the door, that we can be independent, no-strings-attached, loose individuals who "wear the pants". So, we find the idea of submission rather revolting.

In the same way, a man is equally appalled at the word surrender. Why would he surrender? Society tells him that he must fight to win, regardless of the cause. He must be strong, cold, and utterly immune to emotion.

While the term submission may not be entirely revolting to everyone, the idea of surrender is utterly frightening to most, if not all people. In the context of war, surrender means defeat. The soldier who surrenders has lost, failing his country, his leaders, and his people.

It is no wonder that our society is so afraid of those two words. To surrender or submit is to allow oneself to experience  fear, vulnerability, and most of all dependency. To surrender or submit is to admit that we are wrong, have faults and are weak. It is to admit that we have lost.

Only time will tell what truths call us to battle. In this life, only loyalty to leaders or our country could compel such images of self-sacrifice. That is why the soldier is so highly esteemed. For only as we enter into a journey such as war do we find ourselves becoming acquainted with something so much greater than ourselves.

Could it be that surrender and submission in our modern day society

 have such negative implications because we are soldiers for the wrong army?

Regardless of whether we serve the finite army or are members of the heavenly cavalry for God, the same sacrifice is required. Death to self. Self-sacrifice is required. 

The problem is when we only fight in the earthly army, for the true cause is yet unknown to us. And we try to find it on the battlefield. Where we will either win or lose. Ourselves.

But the heavenly battlefield can be best represented on that earthly battlefield if only we have eyes to see that our God is a God of justice. When he asks us to take up our cross, it is only because He has already taken up His.

In both scenarios we die to ourselves. But we only have eternal life in the presence of God when we fight the heavenly battle regardless of whether we win or lose here on earth. We have a guaranteed victory in heaven. He has already won.

But our personal victory starts with two words: submission and surrender. To God.

Oh, Cell Phone, Come Make us Humble?

As I was walking through the airport a few weeks ago I was struck by the astounding number of people who appeared to be bowing their heads in reverence. Even their arms were situated in a prayer-like position.

 My first reaction was shock. Could it really be that so many people were praying in the Dallas Fort Worth Airport?

Not soon after, my hopes were dashed. As I traipsed through the airport, I saw more and more people with their heads bowed, but as I took a closer look, I realized that there reverence was directed at...a cell phone.

A mere cell phone.

The most reverent thing that our society could do was bow their heads to a cell phone.

Almost immediately, the lyrics to the popular Christian song, Give us Clean Hands, came into my head:

"We bow our hearts, we bend our knees. Oh Spirit come make us humble. We turn our eyes from evil things, Oh Lord, we cast down our idols."

but this time, the lyrics just weren't the same. Society was re-writing the song to fit their own needs:

"We bow our hearts, we bend our knees. Oh cell phone come make us humble. We turn our eyes toward evil things. Oh Lord, we embrace our idols."

This may be an over-exaggeration, but I felt like it made a necessary illustration:

Society has not totally eliminated God in its own mind, but rather, has embraced God and their idols simultaneously! Just like the Israelites in the Old Testament our cell phones are like the golden calf.

Now, I don't mean to appear radical. I certainly use a cell phone regularly, and it is not the cell phone itself that is inherently wrong. The reaction to this post should not be to throw your cell phone out the window, or flush it down the toilet, or pray that your brother runs it over with his car.

The appropriate reaction is merely to think. What is our society coming to, if the only time we bow our heads in reverence publicly is to our cell phone--- an object which has neither grace nor mercy, possesses no justice, has no ability to redeem, and has a shelf life of about 2-5 years?

How foolish we are, indeed.

I suppose I can only pray that one day I can walk through the airport, or ride the metro, or meander down the sidewalks of D.C. and genuinely see people praying to the God of the universe. Today is not that day. But maybe, just maybe, I will be lucky enough to see it some day... even just once.