Fearless Faith

It’s time to dust off the boots, match your best jeans with your most colorful shirt and pull out that hat that’s been in the closet for the past 12 months. Fair time is at its height, a time-honored tradition drawing together both rural and urban elements, an opportunity to let down, get down, hoe down and claim a break from the pressures of daily life.

Hardly a break, some would say. Leading up to its opening, young and old alike compete to be the best rider, show person, quilter, carpenter, photographer, clothes maker and rocketeer, among others. Food is an indulgence, both shown and eaten. It is a time for playing dress up (pick your generation), attending concerts and walking the midway. No matter your inclination to participate, there is truly room for all and something for everyone.

Fifty some years ago, I was deeply immersed in the final sanding and detail for a set of 4-H bookends for our county fair. Everything was going great until a parent suggested the design lacked balance and proportion, something that could result in a much-improved presentation. Led on by such sage advice, I changed the plan and used five quarter oak instead of one-by material. It was a work of art in its finished form, but one that failed to meet the specifications that were called for. Despite the change, the bookends earned a blue ribbon. The kicker was a written comment by the jurist who noted that it was a state fair champion worthy project but for my insistence to not follow prescribed directions.

Injustice! in my way of seeing things. I was led astray by a parent, by inferior plans, by a jurist with no vision who could have sent the bookends on to the state fair. It was within his power! I still have the bookends and, yes, they do look very fine in five quarter red oak with an exceptional finish and a just-right-application of woodworking wax, even after all these years.

Isn’t having to face the music for personal decisions a bear? I ultimately allowed the deviation from the plans. I went with the suggestions given to me while knowing better. I had no standing to complain or argue or be miffed in any possible way, yet there it was, another lesson or few learned. But what are the lessons exactly? It wasn’t the end of the world, nor was it a total dismissal of changes knowingly made and coupled with a promise to never do it again. The overall lesson is that we have choices and tradeoffs and outcomes that are ours to reconcile. There is no perfect design whether it is from a project booklet or inspired by the bookshelf that calls to it.

The same can be claimed for the way we approach Christian citizenship. There are few perfect answers or demeanors or techniques in reconciling faith and daily living. Certain conclusions work well for some and not so well for others. Are we content with the choices we have, or do we demand more than our share? Tough choices for an 11-year-old going on 60 something.