IMPACT

I was sitting at my keyboard tonight, looked to my left, and spotted a small glass fishbowl; which has adorned a cabinet next to my computer desk for years. As I extended my hand to touch it, I accidently knocked it from its place. And, as you might expect, it crashed to the floor, and glass flew across the floor. (I think Newton was on to something with that law of gravity. Perhaps it will catch on).

And I suppose if I gave you the opportunity to guess what was stored in the fishbowl, you would never guess. (Certainly not goldfish). And lest you devote too much time and effort to the task, allow me to tell you the glass bowl contained spent Civil War bullets, (commonly known as “Minnie Balls”), a couple of pieces of cannister, (small metal cannon shot), a uniform button from that era, and an Army officer’s insignia from the Spanish-American War.

As an amateur historian of the American Civil War, I can tell you that the foregoing relics, (with the exception of the last on the list) were unearthed from the fields of farmers; whose property adjoins various Civil War battlefields.

Having managed to break the glass repository of my ancient mementoes, I was faced with the age-old question, and one which “Mrs. Fairfax” of the novel and movie, “Jane Eyre” once asked. “What to do? What to do?”

As a result, I stepped into my kitchen, picked up a canister of honey-roasted peanuts, and devoured the remaining quarter of those little jewels. And voila, I had a ready-made container, and dropped my Civil War artifacts into the canister.

Pt. 2

I decided to do something that I have done in the past. I would give a spent Civil War bullet to my newest intern, “Audry.”

However, whereas I have previously given my interns one of these artifacts with little, or no accompanying meaning, except as something to remind them that they had received it during the course of their program, and that they should share my message with others, suddenly I realized a meaning I could attach to this little rite of passage.

And then, it occurred to me.

I selected two bullets from among the twelve or fifteen remaining in the peanut canister. One is in as pristine condition as it possibly can be, having been fired sometime over the past century and a half. The other, well, not so much. It has obviously been interdicted in flight, and slammed into something; perhaps a human torso, or possibly a wall or a tree.

IMPACT!

As a pastoral counselor and mentor, I am all about Impact. And this is the one-word message, (or at least one of the several one word messages) I most want to leave with those whom God has set in my pathway.

And I think there is something especially symbolic and memorable about something physical designed to represent something metaphysical.

My former co-counselor, Sherri, brought something back to me from her trip to Israel. I asked her to pick up a rock from the area of the Garden Tomb of Jesus. And I’m glad to say she honored my request. I call it my “Resurrection Stone.” Sometimes I carry it in my pocket as a mental reminder that I have been bought with a price, and that I should conduct myself in way which honors my Master, the Lord Jesus Christ, who died on the cross, rose from the tomb, ascended into heaven, and has promised to return for those who look for Him.

Pt. 3

But to return to the theme which I have begun to develop, and to the two ancient artifacts; one basically whole, and the other in rather deplorable condition.

IMPACT

As believers, we are presented with the choice to impact our generation, or stroll lazily through life doing the things which unbelievers do, and striving for things for which unbelievers strive. Eating, sleeping, going to work, making a little money, listening to a little country music, taking our kids to the park, achieving some mundane goals, etc.

(Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with any of these things).

However…

(I have always like that word, “However,” since it gives you fair warning one of those “au contraire” kinda moments is coming up).

However, as believers we are designed for Impact, and Impact of the most significant, and long lasting variety. The kind of Impact which has eternity in mind.

We only have to examine the illusion of the pristine and mutilated bullets.

The perfectly whole, unaltered bullet has not fulfilled its mission, (as gruesome as its mission is). It has not yet impacted its target, be it human or otherwise.

However, (there’s that word again) the mutilated bullet has hit something, and hit something pretty hard. As a bullet, it has done what it was designed to do.

Pt. 4

And while the foregoing parable has a rather negative connotation, given that the mission, and the ultimate impact of a bullet is to rob people of their lives, the kind of Impact I’m referring to is positive, but which also entails an explosive action, and is all about making a tangible difference in lives, and helping to prepare people for eternity.

Like that pristine, unused bullet, we can avoid the kind of confrontation which results in Impact, or like the mutilated bullet we can irrevocably impact our generation. The choice is ours. However, the second of the two choices offers some pretty amazing rewards.

It is important to understand that Impact has the potential to beat us up a bit. Even the word “Impact” bears the implication of slamming into something, and slamming into something… hard. Impact requires vulnerability, and anytime the variable we refer to as vulnerability is playing itself out, there is the potential for pain. And the repeated blows represented by personal Impact can manifest painful changes, not only in the lives of those whom we seek to touch, but in our lives, as well; physically, spiritually, mentally and socially. However, the changes in the lives we Impact, and the resulting Impact upon ourselves are simply worth it.

During the last few minutes of the final class I attended in my master’s degree program, our teacher shared a poignant bit of children’s literature with her students. She read the following lines from the book, “The Velveteen Rabbit.”

Pt. 5

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?" 


"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real." 


"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit. 


"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt." 


"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"


"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand." 


"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled. 


"The Boy's Uncle made me Real," he said. "That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always." 

I think Impact is a lot like this, and it requires the kind of determined effort, vulnerability, and a willingness to take up our cross and follow Him; which results in positive changes in we, ourselves, as well as to the one whom we seek to help. 

The Velveteen Rabbit is as good an illustration of Impact, and the profound changes which result from it, as any I know.

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

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