Filings is an ongoing section of this blog where the posts focus specifically on issues of Christian life. The name comes about because “filings” are the natural by-product of Proverbs 27:17: “as iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.”

Several years ago I talked at length with a man by the name of Ronnie Carroll who had an amazing story. In the late ’80s Ronnie owned a satellite TV dealership in Tallahassee, FL. This is a great business to be in in that part of Florida because it is almost impossible to get TV reception there unless you have a dish.



Ronnie was having a tough time, however, because he was the only dealer in the area who refused to sell illegal decoders that allowed folks to unscramble HBO and the like without having to pay a fee. His potential customers would hear his policy and go on down the road and buy their equipment from a dealer that would also sell them the pirate decoders.



For months Ronnie watched business go out the door. He eventually had to close his shop and try to operate his business from his home. Ronnie prayed throughout the winter, asking God to “judge his cause” and seeking direction on whether he should find another line of business.



That spring a couple of gentlemen from the FCC showed up at Ronnie’s door. They said that Washington had made it a priority to crack down on illegal decoders and they were starting in his area. Their investigation had already shown that Ronnie was the only dealer in the area who wasn’t selling the devices and they wanted him to be in charge of collecting the pirate decoders. All dish owners were being told they had a 30-day grace period to turn in their outlaw decoders and pay Ronnie a $300 “disposal fee” or face prosecution. Simultaneously many of his one-time competitors were facing prosecution themselves and were going to find it hard to stay in business.



It also turned out that the company that made the bootleg devices also made legal decoders. Since the dishes wouldn’t work without some kind of decoder the FCC required the manufacturer to provide Ronnie with a line of credit to buy legal decoders to sell to the people turning in their outlaw equipment.



“Overnight,” Ronnie said, “I suddenly had people crammed in my living room and lined up down my driveway to turn in their devices and buy new decoders and subscriptions. There were judges, lawyers and police officers in line. I bought a sign that said, ‘As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord,’ and put it by my front door.” Immediately Ronnie’s business went from barely surviving to grossing more than $80,000 a month. Several newspapers and television stations interviewed him and he shared his story with all he talked to. When I last talked to him years ago his business was still thriving.



One moral to this story is that God doesn’t move quickly: He moves suddenly. It may not look like anything is going on, but His blessing is already on the way and in one moment to the next everything can change. Heaven forbid that the moment right before that is when we give in. When the FCC rang Ronnie’s doorbell he no doubt thought it was a bill collector, and not the answer to his prayers. We need to expect God’s faithfulness, and don’t let our actions or attitudes succumb to what appears to be reality.



What is the price you put on your honesty and integrity? Will you sell it – like Esau – for some piddling and short-term gain? We live in a world full of hustlers, always trying to shade themselves a little edge here and there. The dismaying thing to me is not that this happens, but for what little amounts people are willing to trade their name and integrity. The thing about a path that is straight and narrow is that there are no corners we can cut and still stay on it.



Proverbs 22:1 says, “A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold.” Temptation is always around to provide opportunity and justification; when exposed to the light, however, these justifications are shown to be flimsy and selfish. Likewise, we may not see the true value of our reputation until we ourselves are exposed, and by then it’s too late. What we get never seems equal to what we give up. Indeed, it is “too late” the moment we cheat, not the moment we get caught.



Integrity is not something that can be taken away from us – we can only give it away. We need to be careful that in our efforts to make a name for ourselves that we don’t end up giving that name away.

Filings is an ongoing section of this blog where the posts focus specifically on issues of Christian life. The name comes about because “filings” are the natural by-product of Proverbs 27:17: “as iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.”

A painful but important lesson for Dad and daughters
One Wednesday evening last summer my daughters discovered a baby bunny abandoned in our front yard. It was out in the open far from any cover and shivering despite the summer temperature. Charcoal-colored and barely three inches long, with the tiniest ears and paws, it was of course irresistibly cute. The girls raced back into the house with the little lost soul, eager to perform an emergency rescue and to show me the latest addition to our family menagerie.

Despite their enthusiasm (or because of it), however, my heart fell, though I tried to keep it from showing in my face. Not that the girls would have noticed anyway, intent as they were on the bunny which had already been named Alfalfa for the way his fur stood up between his ears. I knew there was virtually no hope for the little guy (we all just seemed to assume it was a male), but I couldn’t think of what to do to avoid the inevitable trauma. By this time there was no alternative that wouldn’t end in tears.

I could play the big meanie and forbid them to bring Alfal-, I mean, the bunny into the house in an effort to prevent a bigger hurt later, but that would mean heartlessly abandoning the bunny to its already delayed fate out in the big yard. The other option was to keep it and hope for a miracle, or that at least a meaningful lesson could be learned without too much suffering. As I pondered these unpleasant alternatives, Faith announced that she was staying home from church in order to nurse the bunny. “So be it, then,” I thought to myself.

The rest of the evening and all through that night she ministered to the little guy, offering water and half and half and trying to keep him warm. No longer shivering, the rabbit instinctively hopped close to her to snuggle. In the morning she was downstairs for breakfast, tired but glowing, Alfalfa comfortably at home in the front pouch pocket of her hoodie. I was somewhat surprised but encouraged that he was still alive. Once I got to work I did an internet search for information on how to take care of a wild baby bunny. Amazingly, there was a ton of information on what to feed it and how to simulate the care its mother would provide. The information also was pretty direct about the slim chances for success. I quickly e-mailed the info home to the girls and they and their mother did their best. Faith pored over the many pages, now getting an in-depth biology lesson as part of her home education. By evening the rabbit was even acting frisky, hopping around and appearing content.

About 2:30 Friday morning, however, Faith appeared in our bedroom. The bunny was struggling. I tried to go back to sleep so I could go to work in the morning, while she and her mother sat with Alfalfa until he expired about 30 minutes later. Of course, I couldn’t go back to sleep. I knew my daughters were going to be devastated and I grieved for them and tried to think of what comfort I could offer.

When I came downstairs Friday morning things were pretty much as I expected. Faith was working her way steadily through a box of tissue and Patience had her head buried in her arms on the dining room table, crying. What I had feared had come upon me. Now what? As Faith approached I folded her in my arms and whispered what was in my heart: I was proud of her, proud of the way she threw herself unreservedly into trying to bring hope in a hopeless situation, for not regarding her own comfort while trying to bring comfort to another. Still, as I drove to work, broken-hearted for my kids’ sake, I asked out loud: “God, what was the point?” (By now maybe you’re asking the same thing about this story).

As the day went on it became clear to me that it was a meaningful lesson – both for my girls and for me.

John Adams wrote, “Duty is ours. Results are God’s.” Supposed lost causes can cross our path at any time, brought about both by injustice or indifference, and brought upon both the innocent and the complicit. When it happens we have the choice to respond with our head or with our heart. Actually, our choice is whether or not to respond to God’s leading, though it is often filtered through our own experience and outlook.

On this day I remembered the times when I had been confronted with someone suffering in fear and in pain as a result of others’ actions or their own decisions. I remembered those times when I had stepped out in faith, despite my own fears and doubts, and risked my own comfort, emotions and reputation to try and make a difference. I remembered the thrill of being used by God and the joy of witnessing miracles and turnarounds.

I also remembered other times when I did the same and when things – at least as far as I can see – have not yet turned out as well. Sadder still, however, I know there are also times when I sidled to the other side of the road rather than get involved. Perhaps I was afraid of being hurt in what appeared to be a hopeless cause, or felt helpless, or maybe I judged people to be deserving of their fate without remembering what it is that I’ve deserved. In these cases, though I might have tried to obscure it with rationalization, my duty was clear even if the outcome wasn’t. The revelation that restores clarity, however, is that it is not faith in myself (or another placing his faith in me) that changes the situation and makes the difference, but faith in God. The results are His, and even a presumed failure may yet serve His ultimate purpose. Our part is merely to do what is in front of us.

We never know when a dire need may appear, and for my daughters this episode was an early experience. No other thought occurred to them but to act with compassion and mercy toward one of God’s creatures, and both say they would do the same again even knowing how things would turn out. In this I can be content that neither they, nor the bunny, failed.