Deeper with Jesus in Rhode Island

Five Women and a Baby

2012-02-01T06:46:00.000-05:00

Babies arrive in this world with nothing but needs, vulnerable as they come.

Upon their entrance, they have no skills and nothing to offer but they do know how to make demands!

Feed me! Change me! Hold me!

Keep me from scratching my own face. Make me warm. Give me a bath. Strap me in tight. Protect me from harm.

Helpless, helpless, helpless.

But, God devised a plan for these incapable creatures: parents.

For you see, these tiny, squalling, needy bundles don’t appear to be of much use at the start but given time, care, and the right environment, one day they just might cure cancer, lead a nation, serve the poor, or go on to care for a brood of needy creatures of their own.

But first, someone bigger than they are has to lay aside precious moments of their own life to provide those things they need until they can fend for themselves – and that’s a long time coming for most of them.

Initially, it makes sense to the grownups. Babies are beautiful, mesmerizing, engaging. They smell wonderful (most of the time) and their very cuteness overpowers their neediness.

But their dependency is not a short-lived deal. It involves a lot of years and many long, sleepless nights.

As they grow, develop personalities, quirks, bad habits, nasty words, messy rooms, and warts, it’s easy for the grownups to have moments of wondering if wiping noses, helping with homework, or cleaning up vomit are the most noble and worthwhile ways to spend their time.

But, in truth, there’s nothing more noble or valuable to this planet than parenting a child. Whatever role, large or small, a person plays in caring for one of these little ones, it has immeasurable worth.

We are being like our Father God to love and nurture a life outside our own. We are following after Jesus to lay down our own lives out of love for another.

When the process works, when the grown-ups in charge of the child love and nurture him or her to independence, it’s easy to take the whole relationship for granted.

It’s when the grownups abandon their roles or distort them that it’s easier to see the price paid, not only by the child, but by the greater community, if the simple but sacrificial act of raising a child goes undone.

In modern times especially, it seems to be the ultimate act of faith to lay aside one’s own agenda and plans to care for one of these little ones whose possibilities are so unknown. There’s no paycheck for it. No awards ceremony. Little appreciation from greater society. It’s hard to hold onto the truth of the power of parenthood and its worth to the world.

There is an ancient story, though, told in Exodus, of a baby who arrived in turbulent times.

Five women made sacrifices to protect this one small infant and thus, they saved the deliverer of a nation.

First, two midwives defied a decree by Pharaoh to kill all male babies born to Hebrew women at birth. They risked their own lives to see that these little ones were safe upon their entry to the world.

Then, one brave mother hid and nurtured her son for months. Bravely, devising a plan for his survival and entrusting him to a basket in the Nile and the watchful eyes of her daughter.

The child’s sister watched over the basket as it rode the current, floating into the sight of one of Pharaoh’s daughters who then chose to have compassion on a child not of her race and raise him as her own.

Bravery. Self-sacrifice. Dedication. Love. Provision. Protection. The grown-ups around Moses, women of little note in their world, made choices that kept him safe and nurtured him until he was grown.

God saw fit to mention them all in the scriptures. A footnote to little known men and women everywhere that our choices make a difference and don’t go unnoticed by the only audience that truly matters. That choices that may not seem significant at the time may turn out to be the very choices on which the world turns.

God sent His own Son into the world as a baby. He created and He values the process of a human being growing from the complete dependency of infancy to adulthood. He must believe it’s not only valuable for the baby but also for those who care and nurture for the baby through his or her childhood.

It’s not only the baby who grows up in the process.

If you’re surrounded today by cracker crumbs, runny noses, tiny shoe laces, or chunky story books and you’re wondering if anyone knows or cares about what you’re doing, if it makes any difference at all – remember that God saw those midwives as the made decisions in hundreds of birthing rooms.

He saw Jochabed as she nursed her child and hid him from soldiers.

He saw Miriam as she hid in the rushes by the Nile following a baby in a basket.

He saw Pharaoh’s daughter as she chose to be counter-cultural and save a baby her father would have destroyed.

And He sees you. Parent in faith, loved ones. It matters to the child. It matters to God. It matters to the world and is an act that has eternal worth!

Spiritual Hoarders

2012-01-28T15:33:00.000-05:00

I can’t watch the promotional ads for the TLC show, Hoarders.

If you haven’t seen it, the program tells the stories of people who hoard possessions and trash to the point that they’re literally unable to function within their own homes

I can’t look.

It’s too sad.

That people can allow things to accumulate to the point that they become prisoners of their own trash is frightening to me and relentlessly tragic.

But, I suspect hoarding is a bigger problem than can be seen with the naked eye.

I suspect many of us are invisible hoarders.

Some of us live in homes that are immaculate and minimalist in regards to material possessions but we have a hoarding problem nonetheless.

Rather than accumulate junk, we hold on to things from the past – grudges, guilt, hurts, sins, unfulfilled dreams, regrets, pain, and disappointments.

Our closets are stuffed with things we won’t let go. We pile them around us on our beds at night and wake up before dawn feeling smothered and choked.

We’re afraid to open the doors to certain rooms in our souls for fear that what we’ve hoarded inside will come spilling out and crush us under the weight of what we will not send packing.

And we cannot ever have company!

We can’t allow anyone else in or they’ll see the mess we’ve allowed to pile up like old newspapers with headlines like “My Father Didn’t Come to My Soccer Games.” Or “I Had Sex Before Marriage and Will Feel Guilty Forever.” Or “My Youth Leader Ran Off with a College Girl so I’ll Never Trust a Church Leader Again.” Or “I’m Angry That God Let My Friend Die of Cancer.”

Stacks of papers listing all of our sins and disappointments. Piles of unopened letters from God. Telegrams and notes from people who have reached out and tried to visit us in our self-imposed prison that we’ve just let sit beneath the letter slot of our hearts.

Once in a while, we make a start at cleaning out but it just seems like too big a job and letting go seems so frightening. What if we let go of that one thing that is actually holding us together? What if we clean it all out and all we have left is emptiness.

I understand.

In my read through the Bible in a year journey, I just finished rereading the story of Joseph. Every time I reach the part where Joseph easily forgives his brothers, I marvel at the lightness of Joseph’s soul.

He was wronged in so many ways. He lost years of his life because of the choices, jealousies, and plain meanness of others. He was once a loved and favorite son but he spent precious years as a prisoner, a servant, a slave, forgotten and cut off from everything and everyone he loved.

But when God brought him to a place of power and favor, he didn’t rise clutching the wrongs of the past. He rose with great lightness.

The brothers who betrayed him and sold him into slavery, these are the ones weighed down. It’s interesting that they made several journeys back and forth between Egypt and the Promised Land, carrying great sacks each time until they ask and receive their brother’s forgiveness at last.

Joseph just let it all go.

And now, he is one of the cloud of witnesses who cheer each of us on in our race to glory.

He is one of those who lived here, loved here, and knows the baggage that can accumulate over a lifetime of hurts and dashed hopes.

And he calls to us from the stands – “Let it go! If you let it go, you will run faster, freer, and with greater joy. Let it go! When you reach these stands, you’ll wish you’d run lighter the whole way.”

Well, that’s my paraphrase, anyway, of Hebrews 12:1- 2: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”

When you see those promotional ads for Hoarder, don’t you just want to help those poor people ditch all that useless junk and free themselves from their own piles?

Turn that desire on your own house – your inner being – and let it all go. Hoard no grudge, no guilt, no bitterness or pain. Release all unmet needs, disappointments, and broken dreams.

Open the doors, the windows, the skylights, and even the bulkhead. Let the light of Jesus fill you with light. Live light. Travel light. Love the light.

Twenty-Nine Years without Sex

2012-01-25T21:27:00.001-05:00

“I haven’t had sex in 29 years,” he said. “Do I feel like less of a person for it? No. Not even remotely.”

This admission from Tim Gunn, the openly gay host of Project Runway, was provocative enough to garner national headlines today.

It interested me because it illustrates a point that Christians find challenging to make in a world so infatuated with the notion of sex as a necessary element of a complete life: people can live fulfilling lives while abstaining from sex.

God’s creativity was alive and well the day He invented sexuality but His idea was much more involved than the exposing and joining of body parts deal it’s been reduced to by modern society.

We’ve done to sex what McDonald’s did to food – reduced it to something that could be mass-produced cheaply and distributed by gawky teens to any stranger who drives up and rolls down his window.

That’s not sex any more than a Happy Meal is balanced nutrition.

Part of the erosion of the power and complex potency of sex has come about because of the lie that we must all have sex to be complete human beings. That lie has been expanded to include the idea that we must all have access to sex on demand from the person of our choice or an appealing substitute in order to find true and healthy happiness in life.

Not so – says thousands of Christians and, now, Tim Gunn.

Some of the most interesting and fulfilled people I know live without benefit of sexual relationships and some of the most miserable, vapid, and discontent people I know have flourishing sex lives. (And I know several individuals who are happy, healthy, and have satisfying sexual relationships.)

Sex and sexuality, as designed by the Original Designer, are complex, beautiful, and multi-faceted. They are best understood within the context of a committed relationship - with Jesus Christ. But truth is truth no matter how we stumble upon it.

Tim Gunn discovered it when he was crushed by a psychologically damaging relationship and fear of HIV. In choosing to exercise caution before entering into any casual sexual relationships, a modern gay man discovered that life could be fulfilling and have meaning without it.

No sex for twenty-nine years – in Hollywood, that would be the punch line of a cruel one-joke movie but in life, it’s just another way for someone to live.

I appreciate Mr. Gunn’s forthright and frank confession – not easy in the world in which he operates. It’s refreshing and bold.

It should make all of us stop and reconsider the deceptive message of our times that we must have sex to be fully functioning interesting adults.

Not true. So says Tim Gunn and so says God’s word. Truth is truth and tonight it cries out from the headlines just like it says in Proverbs 1:20-22a

“Wisdom cries aloud in the street, in the markets she raises her voice; at the head of the noisy streets she cries out; at the entrance of the city gates she speaks: “How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple?”

Life without sex? It’s still life, people, and life is good.

Quote from: http://abcnews.go.com/blogs/entertainment/2012/01/tim-gunn-hasnt-had-sex-in-almost-30-years/

Like a Steeple Fire - (Or How a Good Story Spreads)

2012-01-24T06:56:00.000-05:00

I heard a good story last week about a Christian I don’t know.

The story was told by a young woman battling a world of hurt and poor choices in order to break free of her old life and rebuild a life she’s barely begun.

She went to a local church for help with a bill. They helped her but they also invited her into their community. She’s not sure about God even after months of church, Bible study, and practical assistance from this little group of believers but she’s a part of their lives now and they, a part of hers.

They’ve been generous with her, even knowing the truth about her life, even though they know the odds she’s up against in making a lasting change. One woman in particular supports her with time and with frequent rides.

I’m not sure where this young woman’s personal story is heading but the story she told about the local church people affected another person who heard it with me.

When she was out of earshot, he turned to me and said, “What would make people give so lavishly to someone they barely know? What motivates them to such generosity do you suppose?”

I don’t know the Christian woman most involved with her and I’ve never attended their fellowship but I knew the answer to his question.

I shrugged. “That’s just the church acting like Jesus.” I said.

He thought for a moment. “Do you really believe that’s what it is?”

I nodded.

He thought again. “Why do you think they’re not afraid of being ripped off or manipulated by this woman?”

“Maybe they are,” I answered. “But the perfect love of Jesus Christ casts out fear. I know that some Christians and some churches have hardened their hearts but this one seems to have remained open.”

He shook his head. “Blows my mind every time she tells me about them. No one gives like that these days.”

I don’t know the believers in this story but I thank God for them. I’m sure they have their moments of frustration with this woman. They may have put in much prayer and some debate about how much to help to give her and when. She may have disappointed them sometimes. She may yet break their hearts.

But I don’t think they know that as she tells their story, she becomes, like the Samaritan woman, a spreader of the gospel, unwittingly sowing seeds that may take root in hearts the people of this church won’t see until we all meet in Heaven.

God says that we are living stones. Sometimes He tosses us into a deep pond and as we plunge into the cold and dark, we cause ripples that affect things far from where we entered the water.

Against the backdrop of the hopelessness, hardness, and deeply rooted problems this man sees every day, the generosity of this little group of Christians stands out like a steeple fire.

I’ve prayed for them this week. For God to strengthen them and keep their hearts open to giving, not expecting return but only giving in obedience to the love of Christ.

This young woman may change, she may not. The man who heard the story may come to Christ, he may not. But they would have less of a chance to change and to choose if it weren’t for the giving and the faithful service of this church.

“But since you excel in everything—in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in complete earnestness and in the love we have kindled in you—see that you also excel in this grace of giving.” 2 Corinthians 8:7

I love hearing good stories about Jesus working through the church. Someday, we’ll be telling be them forever.

The Sheep on My Shield (Or Let Your Meek Flag Fly)

2012-01-23T06:01:00.000-05:00

Some verses in the Bible are harder for me to believe than others.

Like, I truly struggle with Matthew 5:5, “Blessed are the meek for they will inherit the earth.”

Really? Because I don’t see that happening.

I mean, I know it’s true because I trust that what is written in the Bible will come to pass but I see our world and the meek don’t get anything but ignored, mocked and passed over.

Main Entry: meek (adj)
1 : enduring injury with patience and without resentment : MILD
2 : deficient in spirit and courage : SUBMISSIVE
3 : not violent or strong : MODERATE

Yeah, WOW. That’s not the type of character trait I’m racing out to develop. It inspires visions of Clark Kent, not Superman. Of, fictional characters at the beginning of their stories, not the glorious ends where they find their courage and their voice. Of the cowardly lion. Of Sponge Bob. Of Jesus.

Wait. Jesus?

Yup.

In Matthew 11:29, Jesus says “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.” Later versions translate meek as gentle. Wow, I’m not so won over by that in a leader.

Not what draws my eye on recruitment posters, right? Follow me, I lead meekly.

The leaders and heroes of my world are everything BUT meek. They arrive with guns blazing asking if I feel lucky. They ‘re assertive, aggressive, in-your-face, bold, brash, pace-setting, trend-breaking, audacious, cocksure, self-determined and blunt. Lead, follow, or get out of the way, baby. That’s how they roll.

So, in my struggle with the word “meek,” I search the original Greek for clarity and find this:

“1) mildness of disposition, gentleness of spirit, meekness

Meekness toward God is that disposition of spirit in which we accept His dealings with us as good, and therefore without disputing or resisting.

In the OT, the meek are those wholly relying on God rather than their own strength to defend against injustice. Thus, meekness toward evil people means knowing God is permitting the injuries they inflict, that He is using them to purify His elect, and that He will deliver His elect in His time (Isa 41:17, Luk 18:1-8).

Gentleness or meekness is the opposite to self-assertiveness and self-interest. It stems from trust in God's goodness and control over the situation. The gentle person is not occupied with self at all. This is a work of the Holy Spirit, not of the human will (Gal 5:23).”

In other words, meekness isn’t about letting the bullies of this world off the hook. It’s about taking them off OUR hook and putting them on GOD’S hook which is actually way worse. I can only exact revenge for a moment – God’s revenge can last, well, much longer.

But, meek is tough. It definitely takes the work of the Holy Spirit to pull it off in this world.

Imagine we’re going into battle and designing the logo for our shields. We’re meeting with Jesus, our commander and chief. We need to know the symbols for our armor, the images that define us.

“OK, first, paint a tree because those who follow me are like oaks, trees of righteousness with well-watered roots able to endure any storm.” Jesus says.

“Way cool.” We happily paint trees onto our shield logos. Trees are imposing and it’s hard to take them down. We love being trees.

“Beside that, add a stone. All who follow me are being built like living stones into a spiritual house.” Jesus adds.
“Stones, excellent. Stones are hard and stone buildings are like castles, enduring and strong.” We’re good with stones.

We paint solid stones, impregnable stones on our shields and we’re getting psyched. “OK, Lord, now we need an animal. Every other army has an animal. So, what are we? Lions? Bulls? Rams? Hawks? This is going to be great!”

Jesus looks us straight in the eye, not one glimmer of jesting and replies, “Sheep. Those who follow me are sheep.”
We stare at him, our mouths open and our brushes poised in the air waiting for the punch line. When none comes, we explode with protests. “Sheep? We can’t be sheep! There’s nothing intimidating or scary about fighting sheep! Are you hoping our enemies die laughing before we die of embarrassment? Come on with this.”

One of us attempts to paint an assertive looking sheep and it just looks like it’s having a seizure or something. We can see He means business but we’re not liking it. Still. Can’t argue with the commander and chief, the king, the Alpha and the Omega.
We are an army of sheep, that’s our logo, that’s how we roll!

Jesus is the Lion of Judah. Jesus is the Good Shepherd. We are his followers, like sheep.

The meek will inherit the earth – man, that has got to be one of the MOST fantastic and hard to believe prophecies of scripture.

If you wrestle with this whole meekness deal like I do. Rent Ghandi and ask yourself who seems stronger, who prevails? Those who followed Ghandi in his Christ-inspired path of passive resistance or the brutal armed colonial forces? Then rent Schindler’s List and watch Itzhak Stern. Ask yourself who you would rather be like – him, the soldiers, or Schindler?

The meek will inherit the earth because it belongs to their Father and it’s His to give. It cannot be taken by force. Think about it.

Then, don’t look up meek in the dictionary or the Greek to find the definition – look to Christ who lived it, who invented the very idea of meek, who defines it for us in the way He lived. He is not only the Lion of Judah – He is also the Lamb of God.

What’s painted on your shield? I’ll give you a hint what’s painted on mine: “Baaahhhhhh.”

Why I Keep My Dates with Bill Belichik

2012-01-22T08:43:00.000-05:00

My conversion to football fan came relatively late in life and is due largely to one man– Bill Belichick.

As I was drawn, along with all of New England, to the compelling dynasty of the Patriots’ winning seasons, my life entered a season of constant change.

Some changes are exhilarating and welcome. Others are devastating and prolonged. Change and transition appear to be the way of life for the foreseeable future and that’s the appeal of Bill Belichick.

Every Sunday afternoon throughout football season, I can reliably find Coach Belichick standing on the sidelines, wearing the same gray sweatshirt and the same focused, grim expression throughout an entire game of dramatic ups and downs.

Whether the team has just scored a breathtaking touchdown or suffered a humiliating setback, the camera doesn’t even need to pan to Belichick’s expression – it’s always the same.

Did Tom Brady just get sacked on fourth down? Belichick appears grim and focused.

Are the Patriot’s up by 35 points? Belichick appears grim and focused.

Have they just lost their first game in fifteen? Belichick appears grim and focused.

Have they just won their seventeenth game in an unprecedented winning streak? Belichick appears grim and focused.

Belichick displays the same aplomb when he is at a post-game press conference. He never seems overawed by the cameras, the reporters, the attention or the questions.

Here are a few of his classic quotes:

At the 2009 combine, when asked why teams were signing young coaches: “I don’t know. I’m just trying to coach the Patriots. I’m not trying to solve the world’s problems.”

After losing Super XLII to the Giants, spoiling the NFL’s first 19-0 season: “Well, we’re disappointed.”

On whether or not he sees himself making the Hall of Fame: “No. Let’s just see if we can get the team to get off on the count and get 11 guys on the field on a punt return right now. No.”

See, don’t you just love it?

He reminds me of the words of the apostle Paul: “So then, men ought to regard us as servants of Christ and as those entrusted with the secret things of God. Now it is required that those who have been given a trust must prove faithful. I care very little if I am judged by you or by any human court; indeed, I do not even judge myself. My conscience is clear, but that does not make me innocent. It is the Lord who judges me. Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait till the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of men's hearts. At that time each will receive his praise from God.” I Corinthians 4:1-5

In seasons of constant change, I want to take a cue from the winning strategy of Coach Belichick.

Focus on the game. Pay attention to the fundamentals. Work hard on the foundation.

Don’t be too impressed with victory nor too devastated by loss.

Remember who you are and who you aren’t. Do your job and let God judge the rest.

Did you experience a win? Move on. Hit the showers and show up early tomorrow for practice.

Did you experience a tragic failure? Move on. Hit the showers and show up early tomorrow for practice.

Are people saying ugly things about you? What do they know? Hit the showers and show up early tomorrow for practice.

Are people singing your praises? What do they know? Hit the showers and show up early tomorrow for practice.

We waste significant energy trying to judge the game before the final clock – in football and in life. “Judge nothing before the appointed time; wait till the Lord comes.” is a vital passage to keep in the forefront of our thinking in these days of constant change.

Sometimes I can almost hear Jesus, standing in the locker room at the end of my day full of its own wins and losses – “That game's over, Lori, move on. Hit the showers and show up early tomorrow for practice.”

And I listen. Because in the midst of the grit and the glamour of the game where everything can change at the flip of a coin, my God is always there, never changing, focused and prepared for the next play.

So, go on, all of you. Hit the showers and show up early tomorrow for practice.

Rhode Island: The Canary in the Mine of the American Church?

2012-01-20T19:10:00.001-05:00

So, here’s a question the unchurched public must ask themselves: “Can the church of Jesus Christ walk and chew gum at the same time?”

I imagine that’s the discussion around Rhode Island dinner tables lately

as those who represent the church take stands on whether or not Christians should concern themselves with issues such as what the governor calls a Christmas tree or whether one atheist can demand a prayer mural be removed from the wall of a public school

or if we should all be so busy caring for the poor that we don’t have time to weigh in on such debates.

Whew, right?

Here’s the thing.

The human body is an AMAZING concert of art, science, machinery, and mystery.

Right now, my hands are typing, my heart is beating, the nerves in my left leg are telling my brain that it needs more blood, my lungs are taking in air, I assume my kidneys are doing their job so I’ll have to take a break soon, and my mind is both composing this blog post and watching a John Cusack movie!

God designed it this way, in part, to clue in the church that if we respect one another as separate parts but work in cooperation, we can be the same source of awe, wonder, inspiration, and accomplishment as a genius Olympian up for the Nobel peace prize.

Well, that’s my paraphrase.

Paul said it like this:

“For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you. For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us.” Romans 12: 3-6a

AND

“But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it, 25 so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. 26 If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.” I Corinthians 12:24b-26

So, maybe I’m naïve or idealistic or, you know, someone who takes God at His word, but I believe that many hands can minister to the poor (and should), while others can make an impact on the representation of Christ in culture, and still others can care for those within the body of Christ who need guidance or correction.

WE can do many things.

IF, we don’t screw it up.

In my twenties, I suffered from an illness called systemic lupus (I’ve since been healed by the power of Jesus Christ). It’s called an auto-immune disease because the body system designed to fight disease begins, instead, to destroy healthy tissue.

In other words, the body attacks itself.

As a result, I was lethargic, lacking strength, racked with pain, and often unable to accomplish my daily tasks, let alone concern myself with helping others. Sound like the church on a good day?

There are times when what other believers say in public really annoys me.

I want to pretend I don’t know them. That maybe they’re “not really legitimate members of the family to which I belong.” And some aren’t but many are and they just have a different perspective on the world than I do. I need to remember that and be careful not to attack my own body simply because, as a cell in the liver, I don’t completely understand you, who are bones in the foot.

Should the church care for the poor – yes! Should we be active in representing Christ in our culture? In the marketplace – yes! Should we be devote to prayer, to worship, to evangelism, to sacrificial giving, and to building up other Christians? Yes, yes, yes. But not ONE of us can do it all and even different local congregations are called to different ministries and different expressions of faith.

If you don’t live in Rhode Island, you should still pay attention to what goes on here. We’re like the canary in the mine of the modern American church. When you stop hearing our voice, take heed.

We’re weak. So weak, we’ve been declared an unreached people group in old New England. I visited all the churches in my area this summer and most congregations were fewer than forty people on a Sunday morning. Only two of the thirteen I visited had any teens or twenty-somethings in attendance. It felt as though they were all gasping for air.

But we are not without hope because the church is a living organism that runs on Jesus Christ, not a human institution that relies on membership drives.

I think one way to work together is to pray for those who have a different perspective and to listen to what God says about them before judging. If someone is called to a different ministry, unless it’s clearly unbiblical, we should thank God for their work and keep our hand at ours (and we should all be at something that builds the kingdom, yes?).

Pray for the church in Rhode Island. We are small but we are not insignificant. We are the canary God has placed in the mine of the American church. We’re still singing – for now.

Tickle My Ears

2012-01-17T20:11:00.001-05:00

We modern American Christians have a problem.

I’ve been a victim of this problem but I’ve also exploited it to suit my own ends.

Warning: Don’t read any further if you’ll be scandalized to know that I’m a sinner – not just in theory but also in practice. I’m one of those Christians who need Jesus.

Here’s the problem, in a scriptural nutshell: “For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but wanting to have their ears tickled, they will accumulate for themselves teachers in accordance to their own desires, and will turn away their ears from the truth and will turn aside to myths.” 2 Timothy 4:3-4

As prophesied, on any number of important lifestyle issues, American believers can find a church, book, blog or website, that will teach whatever it is we’d like to hear.

Or, faced with conflicting teaching, rather than wrestle through complex issues, we just comfort ourselves with the false notion that it doesn’t matter what we believe about these things, much less what we practice.

In the war against sin, this lie is the enemy’s smart bomb, wildly effective at turning a temptation into a flirtation into pure adulteration of God’s plan for our lives.

For example, I’ve heard so many conflicting teachings on tithing or what we should give financially, I’ve let the differences feed my natural bent toward greed and stinginess with God. I’m usually open-handed with Him regarding time, talents, attention, and material resources but when it comes to parting with cash, you’d think I was giving up my last kidney.

I read the Bible and see what it says on the topic but when I hear a sermon that takes that scripture and turns it just so that I catch a glimpse of a loophole, (you know, if God loves a cheerful giver and I’m not feeling cheerful that day, well . . . maybe I should respect THAT scripture and not give),that day’s offering is just as likely to slip back into my wallet as into the collection plate.

Not a proud admission but true.

This week, as I heard my current pastor offer plain, well-informed, compassionate teaching on the issue of giving, I resolved to close the door on the temptation to turn aside from my understanding of what the Bible says. I asked God to help me choose obedience on a consistent basis in the area of my finances. When stinginess surfaces, it’s a sign to me that I’m in danger of letting my love of God grow cold.

On most issues, if we’re looking, we can find a church or teacher that will allow us to hold close our cherished sin. There are churches that tolerate almost any sexual practice or marital situation. Churches that encourage us to hold onto racial prejudice or hatred. Churches that teach women to be completely silent and churches that say women have the inside scoop on God and should assume all leadership. Churches that ignore the poor and exalt the rich. Some that proclaim peace and others that defend war.

Niche doctrines are de rigueur and if we’re tempted, rather than struggle, we often just shop for the boutique that fits our beliefs.

This is not only unhealthy for the body of Christ as a whole but it’s dangerous for us as individuals. Ignoring the clear commands of Christ as taught in scripture is a sure way to shipwreck our faith. Refusing to wrestle through the tough issues is just lazy faith.
This isn't an easy thing. Some pastors and teachers are, themselves, deceived. Others are masters at tickling our ears with precisely what we want to hear utilizing a smoke-and-mirrors approach to Biblical scholarship. Like the Great and Wonderful Oz, it behooves us to take a peek behind their curtains. Some just honestly differ in their interpretation of a specific passage.

Just because it’s not easy, though, we’re not excused from working through the tough issues to the best of our abilities and striving to obey what we know is true.

Seek the truth always. Don’t settle for hearing what you want to hear. Read and study God’s word, prayerfully, for yourself.

Find teachers who know what the Bible says and can clearly explain in plain talk what it means. Be wary of those who skip passages, tell you that their work is based on “new scholarship,” or that portions of the Bible are outdated or open to wide interpretation. Discuss challenging scriptures with trusted, mature believing friends.

Always invite God into the process. Pray. Meditate. Obey what you do know. Much of the Bible is clear and obeying what we do understand often leads to a deeper understanding of what we don’t.

Are your ear itching to hear what they want? Are you interested in being tickled into complacency in regards to sin?

One thing I know: “Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.” James 4:7-8

Jesus will guide your search but not if you’re always looking for the loophole, not the Lord. Trust me on this one. I speak from personal experience.

Baby Wars (Or When You Get What You Want But It's Not Enough)

2012-01-15T17:39:00.000-05:00

Do you ever worry about operating with mixed motives?

Have you ever hesitated to act on a Biblical command because you felt as though your intentions weren’t pure?

It’s good to have pure motives but in my experience, they’re rare on this side of heaven and only found in Christ. God still works, though, despite the alloy of the human materials He employs in His plan.

Follow along in Genesis 29:31-30:24 and witness the literal birth of the nation of Israel – what I like to call “Baby Wars.”

This passage reads like a script for the original pilot of the Jerry Springer show. Two sisters, daughters of a wheeler-dealer, are married to the same man, with a similar bent as their father. The beautiful sister, Rachel, is loved, but the less attractive sister, Leah, is not.

To gain her husband’s attention and, hopefully, his affection, Leah begins popping out babies. She names them, not according to what she’s sees in them but according to what she hopes they will accomplish for her.

Reuben means, “See, a son.” In other words, “Look at me, everyone! God has blessed me, NOT my sister, with my husband’s firstborn.”

Her second-born, she names Simeon which means, “heard,” as in “God heard and answered MY prayers.” (Not yours?)

Another son comes for Leah and she names him Levi meaning “attached,” because after three sons in a row, Leah is certain her husband will now become attached to her. Finally, she gives birth to Judah meaning, “praise,” because at his appearance, she praised the Lord.

Rachel was, perhaps, patient at first but after her sister’s womb yields four sons, she loses it a little. Delicately approaching Jacob she demands, “Give me children, or I’ll die.”

It’s not happening for Rachel.

So, in the tradition of the times, she sends in her handmaiden to bear a child on her behalf. Bilhah has a son Rachel names Dan, meaning, “God has judged between my sister and me.” Nice, huh? Pretty much means, “I win, you lose.”

She names Bilhah’s second son, Naphtali, which means “wrestling” to signify that she had wrestled with her sister and prevailed. (In other words, “Hah, Leah! Jacob loves me best AND I get two babies! So there!)

The war escalates as Leah offers her handmaid to Jacob (poor man) and Zilpah gives birth to Gad (“Good fortune has come”) and Asher (“Happy am I.”) (Happy, happy, happy because of allllllll my babies.)

Rachel then barters away a night with their husband to Leah in exchange for mandrakes, a food known to enhance fertility. Leah conceives on that night that she’s “hired” Jacob (no mandrake assistance necessary), and names the child Issachar meaning, “wages or hire.”

Is this striking you as holy or glamorous or a noble foundation for the chosen people? Or, does it just seem like two jealous sisters plagued by insecurity and a husband who can’t really manage his household?

Leah gives birth again, to Zebulun, meaning “honor” and then to a daughter named, Dinah, which means “justified,” as in “my place is justified in this household.”

Finally, God blesses Rachel with Joseph, named “may he add” so that Rachel could take the opportunity to make clear she would like the babies to keep coming.

Sadly, in Genesis 35, Rachel does give birth to one more son but she dies during the difficult labor. With her final breath, she names him Benoni, meaning “son of my sorrow” but Jacob kindly renames him Benjamin, meaning “son of my right hand.”

The names of the twelve sons of Israel reflect, not mothers who placed God, husband and family first but self-centered women caught up in a selfish and bitter rivalry. There is nothing about the formation of this family that would foreshadow a great future or portend the blessing of the seed of Abraham on all nations.

Nothing in the motives behind these births that would speak to their future descendant, Jesus Christ, who would die to pay for all of our impure motives.

But God isn’t daunted at all by our sad, self-centered little intentions. He just moves forward with His plan, creating from our messes the art of His redemptive story.

We miss out on a lot when we don’t submit our motives to His cleansing power. No doubt Leah and Rachel would have enjoyed life more if they’d seen their children as more than ways to achieve their selfish ends. For them, sons were a way of securing affection, attention, place, and a future.

For God, the sons were an end in themselves.

I do that. I attempt works or ministries with mixed motives, hoping they will do some good but also hoping they’ll secure for me a good name, the good will of others, and perhaps a sense of well-being for myself. No matter how noble, in part, I make these works somehow about me.

God sees each act as an end in itself – He sees that it is good for me to love even if the act of love garners me no praise or love in return. He knows it’s good for me to create even if the act of creation gains me little fame or glory.

The children of my efforts to do good in this world in His name are able to stand alone in spite of what they may or may not achieve for me, despite my sorry, sullied motives. This story helps me to remember that.

Never despair that God is at work no matter how sinful the intentions of the earthly players. His plans cannot be thwarted.

But, think, for yourself, of all that Rachel and Leah missed out on by focusing on what they might gain from the fruit of their wombs rather than seeing God at work in each special one – no matter what benefit they might receive personally from each birth.

Where are the baby wars in your life? What selfish ambition or foolish rivalry might you benefit from laying down this week? Where are you throwing out the baby with the holy water?

Don’t know? Ask God, He’ll show you.

That's So Not Fair!

2012-01-12T20:05:00.001-05:00

That’s so not fair!

Ever said that?

Kids are born hard-wired to spot injustice or situations where the scales of life don’t balance. My children frequently pronounced things SO NOT FAIR!

My stock answer was “Good! Life isn’t fair and it’s my job to teach you how to deal with that!”

That’s a cool parent thing to say but I admit that I’m just as guilty of turning to God and shouting the same thing.

Like when my friend who loved telling others about Jesus died with lightning speed of pancreatic cancer.

Or when another friend with a multitude of problems had to put her beloved dog to sleep – he who was her comfort and friend through chemo and through long, anguished nights.

Or when a godly families’ life is interrupted by cancer treatments. Or when people who cheat, lie, or flaunt God’s laws prosper while others who make Biblical choices struggle to survive.

Life on this side of heaven isn’t fair and people who love God don’t get a free pass through unfair situations. If anything, it often feels as if God volunteers us for injustice more often than people who don’t love Him.

Don’t you just love the mystery of His ways?

Consider the story of Jacob’s romance with Rachel. Jacob would eventually be renamed Israel, father of the twelve tribes, so you’d think he’d have some special treatment on earth but in God’s economy, “special treatment” can be a little rigorous.

Jacob fell in love with Rachel and worked out a deal with her father, Laban, to work for her for seven years. He was so in love it says that the seven years flew by and the time of their wedding arrived quickly.

Rachel had an older sister, Leah, who had “weak eyes.” Since it was the tradition of their culture for the older daughter to marry first, Laban covered Leah with veils and sequestered Rachel away until after the wedding night. Jacob awakened to find he’d been tricked into marrying Leah, not Rachel, the love of his love.

Imagine the agony of that night for both sisters. Rachel exiled to some far tent knowing her sister was participating in the ceremony she’s dreamed of and hearing words from Jacob meant only for her. And Leah! Poor Leah probably silently enduring a night of passion with a man she knew would be horrified at first light to discover her in his bed.

We live in a world ruled by sin and it’s so prevalent that none of us remains untouched. Perhaps Jacob deserved to be tricked having tricked his father into blessing him as firstborn but what did Leah do to suffer so, or Rachel?

Laban gave Rachel to Jacob, too, for another seven years’ work, and so they began a family with sister wives, one loved and one unloved. God knew Leah was unloved so He blessed her with a fertile womb. Rachel was loved, but suffered from an extended period of barrenness.

So much that wasn’t fair but from this mess of poor choices and sad situations, God created the nation of Israel. He’s like one of those amazing chefs on the Food Network who can create a gourmet meal from anchovies, gummy bears, toothpaste, and almond milk.

When I cry out to God that life isn’t fair, He answers me with the phrase He repeats throughout Psalm 37 – “Do not fret . . .” (I have more frets than a guitar store so He must repeat this to me often.)

“Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret—it leads only to evil. For those who are evil will be destroyed, but those who hope in the LORD will inherit the land.” Psalm 37:8-9

That inheritance feels, now, like it’s a long time coming but when it arrives, all that has gone before will feel like a breath, a heartbeat, a recovered memory that only makes sense through the lens of eternity.

Read Psalm 37. In the face of life’s unjust encounters, Psalm 37 is God’s way of reminding us that “it ain’t over ‘til it’s over.”

When we arrive on His doorstep, none of us who follow Jesus will be complaining that we’ve been short-changed. Every pain, sorrow, teardrop, and heartache will fade like a bad case of chickenpox and we will face eternity unscarred and whole by the power and mercy of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

Once I Tried to Hide from God

2012-01-10T19:27:00.000-05:00

Once, I tried to hide from God.

Okay, once that I’m going to tell you about.

It was during a time when I was making some very sinful choices. I knew what I was doing was wrong and I wasn’t ready to stop. But, I was accustomed to talking every aspect of my life over with God so, I decided to hide for an afternoon.

Don’t ask me why.

I’m a sinner, that’s why.

I remember making a clear choice to avoid God for the day because I wasn’t interested in feeling convicted. I mean, it was a perfectly beautiful Saturday.

I reasoned that if I felt guilty, that would lead to me feeling convicted, and then I would be forced to either change or honestly face the depth of my affection for my current sin. That might mess with my day.

Not up for it.

So, my great escape plan involved a)not talking with any of my friends who might ask what was up in my life – thus opening a door for God to speak to me, b) not praying (for obvious reasons – why open a direct line?,) and c) definitely not reading the Bible.

After a morning of running errands and avoiding eye contact with the Almighty, I settled in to read a novel – NOT the Bible.

What occurred over the next hour made such an impression on me that, twenty-five years later, it still goes down as the MOST uncomfortable two hours of my life.

As I read the novel, I felt God staring at me from one corner of the room. Not mean eyes, like my mom, but just staring. Not puppy eyes, like I was disappointing Him or leaving Him lonely, just staring, like God.

Chapter after chapter I read but my discomfort and guilt grew. I shifted positions so I was facing the wall of my room. Turned my back on those God eyes.

Still. Discomfort began to have a name and that name was guilt. Guilt swelled, pressing in on me, breathing heavy like a dog that wants to go for a walk RIGHT NOW!

Guilt expanded, building, building, building until it happened, an explosion – conviction. Conviction of sin. Ka- pow!

All right! All right! All right, already! Yes! Yes! Fine! You WIN! Slam, my novel flew into the bedroom wall and I flopped down on my bed and cried, confessing my guilt and asking for help to change.

God spoke very clearly to my mind that day and this is what He said, “Don’t EVER think you can decide when and how I’m going to convict you of sin. You can’t hide because I will always find you.”

“Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me; your right hand will hold me fast.” Psalm 139: 7-10

I’ve thought about that enounter this week as I’ve tried to adjust to a new work schedule that messes with my devotional/prayer schedule. I miss my usual time with God. I don’t want a new plan. My old one worked for a really long time.

Now, when we would normally be chatting, I’m showering or driving or doing meal prep for dinner. Some strange part of me worries that He still shows up and wonders why I’m not there – like a child wondering if Santa will find them in their new house.

God reminds me, though, that He will always find me. I can’t even hide from Him when I want to hide, never mind when I want to be found.

Funny how that thought can be frustrating in one moment and comforting in the next. He sees me. I cannot hide from Him. He will find me wherever I go.

He sees you, too.

Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

2012-01-08T09:11:00.000-05:00

“All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring; renewed shall be blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king.” –J.R.R. Tolkien

I draw great comfort and inspiration from this quote from Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy. I was reminded of it today as I began to reread the story of Abraham from Genesis. (I’m rereading the Bible in a year, chronologically this time.)

God sent Abraham on a meandering journey. He was called to wander. He wasn’t young when he started out. He was advanced in years when he began his journey and he was ninety-nine before the child promised to him was born.

Wandering, growing old, wondering when God would fulfill the promises He made to him when they were alone. There must have been some long, lonely nights for Abraham sitting by a fire under a great sky full of stars asking for faith to hold on.

Tolkien lost both of his parents before he was in his teens. He lived and wrote through two World Wars, watching men he knew and loved die young. He endured Hitler’s Europe. I imagine that Tolkien, too, was a man who spent some time staring up at the stars asking for greater faith.

Yet, when we read the telling of their lives now, they appear to be almost seamless tapestries woven by a master weaver at a great loom. We can see the thread of God’s plan for them from birth to death. We see God’s guiding hand, the trail of divine ink penning their days. We know by sight what they had to trust by faith.

This helps me on those nights when I stoke my own campfire under my own patch of sky, staring wordlessly up at God who has already heard all my questions and knows how much more faith I need than I have.

It’s hard to trust Him as He tells the tale that is my life. It’s easy to begin to judge it too soon, to hold it up to the standards of the culture and times in which I live rather than against the eternal truths of Scripture. It’s hard.

But, He knows what I’m made of. He knows that I am dust and so I know He’s patient with my fireside ranting or the times when I fall into brooding silence.

He’s seen it all before at countless campfires through other's long, dark nights. Maybe He’s been to one at your place.

I’m not lost. My soul is deeply rooted in the same soil that anchored Abraham.

In the desert, sources of sustenance are not apparent to all and they don’t lie near the surface. There’s no easy access to nourishment in the land of my fathers. It is a place where God provides and sometime that provision seems to rise out of dry sand like a sudden oasis.

As the New Year begins, I am, once again, attempting to memorize scripture (at this, I'm a miserable failure.) This week’s verse is from Psalm 55:22 “Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken.”

Abraham and Tolkien both lived in times when cares were certainly overwhelming, at times on a daily basis. But they both knew how to find water, living water, in the desert, and so their lives testified to God’s ability to sustain those who trust in Him.

I pray that mine will one day tell the same story – and yours, too, loved ones.

Do you wander? You are not lost if you’re faith is rooted in Jesus Christ.

The desert will destroy those who don’t know where to search for food and water but for those who walk with a knowing guide, it is a place of wonder and miracles.

There Are Men Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves

2012-01-04T20:00:00.001-05:00

“There are men too gentle to live among wolves, who anoint them for burial with greedy claws,
And murder them for a merchant's profit and gain.”

This is a line from one of my favorite poems, written by Jack Kavanaugh.

We live in a world run by wolves. It’s small wonder our young people idolize vampires, gladiators, and iron men. This is the age of Darwin’s children all grown up and striving to be the fittest so they will be the ones who survive.

There is small mercy for the weak or for those who fall behind. There is only an anemic hope for the fragile or the meek. Sheep don’t stand a chance.

That’s why Noah is my hero.

Noah lived in a time of such violence and evil that God was compelled to destroy all life on earth. The earth, so soaked with the lifeblood of a thousand Ables, that God’s go-to plan was to wash it clean with a flood.

In the midst of these thugs, brigands, and God-haters, lived a man who maintained a righteous life, despite the odds against him.

When it was time for the rain to fall, God said to Noah: “Go into the ark, you and your whole family, because I have found you righteous in this generation.” Genesis 7:1

What an amazing epitaph for any life: “to be found righteous in this generation.”

It’s hard to live a righteous life – choosing to do the moral thing in all situations. Harder still, impossible even, when surrounded by people who reject righteousness and, instead, embrace immorality – lies, gossip, greed, hatred, lust, and revenge.

What hope do any of us have in this age? What hope do our children have?

Only One.

Jesus.

There is a way for a lamb to survive in a valley ruled by wolves – remain close to a good shepherd.

I stink at scripture memorization but it’s a new year and so I’m trying again. My verse for this week is from Psalm 55:22 “Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you, he will never let the righteous be shaken.” (Day four and I still couldn’t type it without checking!)

This is not a verse for wolves and iron men who survive by fang and clanging sword. This is a verse for defenseless sheep, who live by faith as they venture through the dark valley listening to growls in the dark.

We can be found righteous in this generation, through faith in this great shepherd. Paul explains it this way:

“But now apart from the law the righteousness of God has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify. This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.” Romans 3:21-24

Through a relationship with Jesus, we can be the Noah’s of our generation, our children can ride in the ark of His grace, and we can find protection from flood and fang.

It is a dark and dangerous valley in which we walk, loved ones, but we don’t walk alone. Stay close to the shepherd in the New Year and you won’t need to join the pack of wolves who rule the day.

A new day comes . . .

In A Time When There Are No Heroes

2012-01-03T09:53:00.000-05:00

Has anyone ever made you doubt that the stories written in the Bible are historically true?

Ever hear someone say that the stories are fine for moral teaching but they didn’t actually happen?

Take a look at Genesis 27 and ask yourself this: If someone were going to make up a story about the founding family of their faith, would this be it?

In stories people make up, there’s always a hero – a good guy. Humans don’t make up stories where there isn’t a hero.

Out of four people in this little Old Testament family – Isaac, Rebekah, Jacob, and Esau – there is no good guy.

Before Jacob and Esau, twins, were born, God told their mother, Rebekah, that they would form two nations. The older would serve the younger. But, Isaac favored Esau, the hunter, over Jacob, the mama’s boy.

One of these brothers will become the father of the nation of Israel. Esau is a bold, impulsive hunter who marries foreign women – to the bane of his parents – and who, one day, trades his birthright to his brother for a bowl of lentil stew.

Jacob , his mother’s favorite, is a quiet boy who liked to hang out around the tents. Not promising leadership material.

Isaac tries to give Esau his best blessing, despite God’s prophecy, but Rebekah and Jacob conspire to trick him into blessing Jacob. When he finally discovers the deception, Esau pleads for a scrap of blessing. When he ends up with much less than he felt he deserved, he plans to kill his brother.

Nothing heroic happening here. Nothing.

And yet, God is at work.

There’s no moral to this story. It’s not useful for teaching lessons. Everyone does something wrong. If anything, it illustrates this passage from Romans 3 that Paul uses to convince us that we are all sinners:

“None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God. All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one. Their throat is an open grave; they use their tongues to deceive. The venom of asps is under their lips. Their mouth is full of curses and bitterness. Their feet are swift to shed blood; in their paths are ruin and misery, and the way of peace they have not known. There is no fear of God before their eyes.”

Ever felt like that? Ever been in a work situation, a church, a home, a country where there are no heroes? Where everyone chooses wrong and even you feel as though your choices fall short?

Take heart.

God has chosen to be the hero in all our stories. Even when everyone else chooses wrong, He chose love and made a way for salvation for all of us who are not up for the part of savior.

So, the next time someone tells you that the Bible is just stories for moral teaching, explain that if God doesn’t exist and if the stories aren’t actual history, then don’t bother trying to use them for moral instruction.

What’s the lesson of Genesis 27? Be first with your lies? Be craftier than your siblings? Take advantage of your elder parents’ failings? Avenge yourself? Grab what you feel you deserve?

I think the ultimate lesson here is that while we can certainly make a mess of our lives and our relationships, we cannot thwart God’s ultimate plan.

And, that He is a God who is willing and able to take people who are hell-bent on making the wrong choices and redeeming them, so that they are the stuff of legends.

He has the first and last word on all our lives.

Done anything heroic lately? Maybe it’s time to check in.

In a time when there are no heroes, He is.

Guess the Joke's On Me

2012-01-01T09:56:00.000-05:00

A funny thing happened on my way to achieving last year’s New Year’s goals.

This morning, in the back of a drawer, I found ten index cards on which I’d written my goals for 2011. I almost tossed them out without looking at them. It’s been that kind of year.

But then, just for kicks, I looked them over. They were going to be my argument for a post on how useless it is to set goals in light of the fact that God can come in and interrupt your life plan at will.

Joke’s on me. To my surprise, I’ve actually achieved six out of the ten cards!

I remember yanking them off the bulletin board in my beautiful little writing corner last January. Angry that I before the new car smell was off the year, my life was already turning upside down, and I found myself packing to leave a home I loved.

Rather than throw them away, I recall I decided to toss them in a box so I could throw them up to God later on when I wanted Him to see how much He’d interfered with my good intentions and my plans.

He’s laughing now.

These weren’t selfish goals. I spent time praying about these plans and considering them carefully before God. Several of them had to do with my relationship with Him. I even remember dedicating them to Him before I tacked them up on my board (you know, feeling all holy and self-confident).

Leave it to God to take me seriously.

Funny how as today began, I had one reigning thought on my mind: there is so much I don’t understand about how God works. This past week, I began studying the life of Jacob, later called Israel, father of the twelve tribes. Drawing lessons from his story his like trying to strain a pure drink from muddy water.

God works in the lives of individuals, people groups, and nations in unique and personal ways. As great and as vast as He is, He seems to revel in getting His hands dirty with each of us one-on-one. And while there are absolutes, principles, and laws that apply across the board, how He works that out in each of our puny lives is as unique as our thumbprints.

It’s really not true to say that I achieved six out of my ten 2011 New Year’s goals. There came a point this year when I stopped thinking about personal goals and just focused my eyes on Jesus simply to keep from falling beneath the waves of trouble that kept coming and coming.

What’s truer to say is that He achieved six out of the ten goals for my year. I just held on for dear life as He took me through the circumstances that facilitated the process.

So, my plans for today have changed already. I was determined not to set goals this year. In my petulance, I was going to tell God how useless that is and how much more spiritual it would be just to “let Him have His way anyway since He seemed to ignore my goals in order to achieve His.”

I’m such a jerk.

Instead, I’ll pray again and ask Him, once more, to show me goals for 2012. I don’t feel quite so holy nor so confident in myself as I pursue the process this year but now I am more confident of Him and His willingness and ability to achieve His plans for me, despite me.

And now I know the verses on which I will meditate today. They come from Psalm 138:6-8

“For though the LORD is high, he regards the lowly, but the haughty he knows from afar.

Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve my life; you stretch out your hand against the wrath of my enemies, and your right hand delivers me.

The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O LORD, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands.”

David, who penned that Psalm, loved the Lord and yet, His life was fraught with twists and turns he didn’t see coming. God was with him, though, through it all.

How about you? What are your goals for 2012?

Whatever they are, be sure to move forward with Jesus. Though there’s no guarantee it will be easy, once you’ve tried it, trust me, you’ll never look back. He will fulfill His purpose for you, too, loved one. He's like that year, after year, after year.

Though the Mountains May Crumble (Saying Good-Bye to a Terrible, Wonderful Year)

2011-12-29T08:22:00.000-05:00

This has been a hard year.

I confess that as I gasp my way to the end of 2011, it wearies me to look back and reflect. From the moment the door opened on this year right until this week, I’ve experienced trouble.

There were sweet joys and victories floating like garnish in the bitter stew of losses and struggles but they were few and short-lived. This was a year when God saw fit to deconstruct my life in a hundred ways and as it closes, I am still wondering why.

While others set goals and make resolutions for 2012, I do not. I simply lay this year down at Jesus’ feet and say, “Make of it what you will in my life.” And as for the year ahead, I dare not impose my own plans upon it. Honestly, my heart is too weary, my hopes too fragile, and uncertainty is still my closest companion in regards to the necessities of life.

One year ago this week, things were different. We lived in a different home. My husband and I each had different jobs. We served in a different church. I had hopes and plans based on what I expected to continue into a new year. On January 1, 2011, all that began to change and change and change.

Now, I tell myself, that it can change again so that at the end of 2012 I’ll be writing a different story. Life is like that. But right now there’s more that I don’t know than what I know.

That’s not a line I would have written this week last year. This week last year, I made a list of goals in full confidence that I would have some measure of control to meet them and yet, a few short days later, I walked into a life I didn’t see coming. Control was an illusion and as it flew from my grasp, what remained was the truth that Jesus stays even when my plans are gone.

When my son was growing up, he woke up every day with a plan. Unfortunately, it never took into consideration the plans I had for him for things like school and chores so that every day, my plans for his life seemed to him like an interruption.

I am like that with God.

In my morning devotion, my prayers are full of noble words about my desire to do His will but they always end with my request for Him to bless mine. And then, I close my Bible and open my planner so my to-do list rules the day more than the verses I just read.

This year, flipped that ritual on its head.

Oh, at first I spent hours crying out for help and spending every breath of my prayer life trying to move God to change all that was going wrong.

That didn’t really stop but after a while, it gets old, and you know God has heard it all and you know He’s not an idol just waiting for you to say the magic words so then you shut up and start to listen. And when things continue to stay unsolved, well, He’s still there and there are still people around you still in need of Him so then the prayers become more about “show me how to serve you while things are still unchanged.”

And then, well, you discover a certain freedom in knowing that even when everything has gone wrong, God is the One with the last word on your life, not the evil one. He can’t mess with your relationship with Jesus and he can’t take away God’s power to work through your life even when your life looks like no one could work through it.

I began to see that even if my plans went awry, God still had a plan for me. A plan for me to be attentive to Him and to serve others, to receive His love and to share it with those around me, even as the structures of my life collapsed.

It’s as if my relationship with Him became the one indestructible shelter in which to stand while all else crumbled like those sets in the movie, Inception. And I got a glimpse of the truth of Isaiah 54:10 that says “Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,” says the LORD, who has compassion on you.”

I drew comfort, this year, from the writings of other believers who, through the centuries, have faced troubles far greater than my own, and yet found Jesus standing with them in the midst of it and learned that He is enough.

They don’t preach a gospel that says Jesus will come in and give you everything you ask for – money, job security, health, relationships. They preach a gospel that says this world is under the rule of the prince of darkness. It’s crumbling, bleeding, dying, and full of pain. It’s a battle ground with real victims, sorrow, and trouble.

But those who know Jesus reside in another kingdom, one that can’t be seen but that is ruled by Christ, not by circumstance. He doesn’t deliver us so that we can live comfortable lives receiving all the benefits of this world. He delivers us so that we can testify to His sufficiency in every condition of life in this world so that others will know the joys of the next.

I’m no martyr. I want my situation to improve. I want 2012 to be the year things turn around and joy is more than a condiment in a steady diet of trials.

But I’m freer at the close of this year than I was at the close of 2010. I’m freer because I know that nothing can separate me from the love of Christ and that His love is sufficient for me in all things.

A Beautiful Letdown

2011-12-27T12:56:00.000-05:00

I recall the feeling even when I was very young.

The letdown.

Christmas Eve was so very special because it was all candlelight, music, and anticipation. Christmas Eve was magical and pregnant with beauty. Christmas Eve was an unopened gift bursting with promise.

Christmas morning arrived, showing off in a flurry of wrapping paper, bows, coffee for dad, shouted thank you’s, hugs, and squeals of excitement.

But then, all too quickly, everything was open. Every gift bestowed. The turkey, a carcass. The squeals, bloated moans underscoring the afternoon football game on TV.

No hidden surprises. Nothing waiting to be opened, forgotten, and perhaps more valuable, more exciting than all the rest. Christmas afternoon spread out on the bed with a cigarette and blew smoke rings around my hopes for more.

Even if it was everything I wanted piled up neatly on the stairs to be brought to my room and put away, even if, it was still not enough magic to carry over past Christmas dinner.

I remember staring out of the car window on the way home from visiting relatives trying to recapture the magic of Christmas Eve but finding only a gray mist in my spirit where joy should have danced a while more.

I feel that this year.

The tragic headlines couldn’t even let the sun set on Christmas day before announcing sadness, fire, gunplay, and the twisted irony of loved ones killed by those they love on Christmas morn. A little girl gone missing, found in a dumpster. A grandfather dying within reach of the granddaughter he was trying to save. Businesses scheduled to close because the holiday shopping was not enough to save the jobs of those trying so hard behind the Christmas displays.

We can’t even hold it together past Christmas morning anymore before exposing ourselves as a species unable to save itself from itself.

We bathed in candlelight on Christmas Eve, singing carols, watching movies, and wrapping gifts. For a few short hours we fooled ourselves into thinking we might do – humanity might just be able to save itself.

But, no. We were failures before sunrise. We don’t have the answers, the resources, the words, or the power to create, purchase, or wrap anything that even resembles a solution to what is wrong with this world.

Like the winter woods, now gray, barren, and exposed after the leaves have dropped from the trees and before the lovely coat of snow, we are laid bare and found wanting.

But, there is a truth, greater even then than the headlines on the evening news.

In the letdown of the holiday, know this truth: that when the candles have been extinguished, the gifts set aside, and the leftovers tossed out, the truth of salvation born at Christmas remains.

It is not just the words to Handel’s Messiah, soundtrack for Christmas shopping, it’s the eternal truth that will never let down nor disappoint and holds as much power and magic today as it did on Christmas Eve. It is the morning after truth of Christmas that when Santa leaves, Jesus remains.

It is this:

“The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
a light has dawned.

You have enlarged the nation
and increased their joy;
they rejoice before you
as people rejoice at the harvest,
as warriors rejoice
when dividing the plunder.

For as in the day of Midian’s defeat,
you have shattered
the yoke that burdens them,
the bar across their shoulders,
the rod of their oppressor.

Every warrior’s boot used in battle
and every garment rolled in blood
will be destined for burning,
will be fuel for the fire.

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Of the greatness of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.

The zeal of the LORD Almighty
will accomplish this.” Isaiah 9:2-7

Happy December 27th, everyone. Welcome the beautiful letdown after Christmas. It just may lead you to a higher truth. When all else is gone, Jesus remains.

The Light Shines in the Darkness

2011-12-24T08:54:00.001-05:00

Father?

Yes, my child?

This is a very dark place that you have sent me.

Yes, I know. You are the Light.

The people here are lost.

Yes, I know. You are the Way.

They believe lies about you.

I know. You are the Truth.

There is the stench of death all around.

You are the Life. Once upon a time they walked in my light but they chose their own way and now they wander lost in darkness and deception and death. But since before they fell from grace there has been a plan, a plan to redeem what was lost and to defeat the darkness.

I am the plan, yes, Father?

Yes, my child, you are the plan.

"The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross." Colossians 15-20

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:1-5

Have a beautiful Christmas. May you spend it in the Light of Jesus Christ.

Spending Christmas Alone - A story with a happy ending

2011-12-22T09:40:00.000-05:00

“I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Arlene smiled into the phone as she switched off the porch light and locked the door.

“You won’t be lonely?” Her oldest daughter couldn't resist calling from the car as they pulled away, headed to the airport.

“Enjoy your trip, already! You and Mark deserve this vacation. Go!”

As she hung up, she took a long moment to look over the photos of her family on the sideboard. Children, all grown. Grandchildren, nearly grown. Her David, gone on ahead of her to glory after fifty years together. She was so very blessed.

Time to get ready for her company. She hummed quietly as she put on water for tea. “Be still my soul, the Lord is on your side.”

She’d been planning this Christmas celebration for weeks. As each call came in, from children and grandchildren, with apologies and alternate Christmas plans, she’d been sad, at first. How could it possibly happen that she’d be alone on Christmas?

Sophie was just getting back on her feet after the chemo and Arlene had spent several weeks living with them on the West Coast to help out. Her youngest daughter would have her brood around her at her own home for the holidays and Arlene couldn’t be happier for that!

This year Tom and Shannon were due at Shannon’s parents for Christmas. They’d been kind enough to give up their turn last year since it had been her first Christmas without David and everyone had wanted to support her.

Then, Mark surprised Nora with a long-awaited trip to Greece as a combination Christmas/anniversary/thank-you-for-taking-me back gift. Arlene was so thrilled they had reconciled, she could hardly complain.

She’d had a long conversation with David over Skype yesterday. How fortunate that missionary families now had the blessing of computer technology to keep in touch!

But, now she was really alone.

Oh, she’d entertained offers from friends at church but then it occurred to her that she had the opportunity to enjoy what she’d always wanted through years of raising her family and caring for the needs of others. Politely, she’d declined all invitations for the chance to spend a quiet Christmas with her dearest friend.

So, here she was. The fireplace snapped brilliantly. Crisco was curled up in his basket on the floor by her chair. Her favorite orange tea scented the air. The Christmas candles in the windows proclaimed the season to the world but all that mattered to her was right here.

Arlene tucked her prayer blanket around her legs and checked the small stack of books on the table beside her: prayer journal, hymnal, her favorite devotional reader and her Bible, frayed, worn and familiar. She snuggled into her chair and took several deep breaths followed by a sip of tea. Then she closed her eyes.

“Here I am, Jesus. We’ve got all night tonight and all day tomorrow. Let’s celebrate Christmas with uninterrupted worship and conversation, just us, my dearest friend, just us.”

The Search for What's Missing

2011-12-20T10:31:00.001-05:00

“Honey! I can’t find my car keys!"

“Mom, have you seen my good jeans?”

“Ma, I looked everywhere. I don’t know where that textbook went.”

Every mom has heard these lines. Things go missing and elude their owners.
In my house, there were two responses to these cries for help:

“How hard did you look?” and

“If I come in there and find it in the first 30 seconds, you owe me an extra chore.”

Effective searching requires effort, time, and focus. You may have to get up off the couch, put down the remote, and move around.

You may have to stop what you’re doing.

You may have to make an investment in the search – your full attention, maybe, or maybe more.

You may have to move things.

As a fire chief in a rural area, my dad has led his share of searches. Lost children, lost hikers, lost seniors, runaway cows. Even a simple search requires a considerable commitment of resources – human, financial, equipment, and time.

But no one questions those costs when a life is involved. We know it’s worth it.

The Christmas story mentions a search.

Wise men from the East searched for a great king they believed had been born because they had invested years studying prophecies and signs.

Their journey to find this infant king involved leaving their everyday lives, probably their families and everyday concerns, and setting out to a foreign land.

It involved a commitment of their time, their resources, and their attention. It involved risk when the reigning king felt threatened by their search.

And it took longer than they imagined.

I think about this sometimes when people tell me about their efforts to find God.

“I tried church a couple of times but it doesn’t work for me.”

“No one else understands the Bible, why should I try?”

“I prayed but God didn’t answer so I’m done trying.”

“Oh, I can never find time to read my Bible every day.”

So often, I hear people say “I can’t find God.” and my question is “How hard have you looked?”

In The Heavenly Man, Chinese house pastor in Communist China, Brother Yun, describes praying and fasting repeatedly for over 100 days in his appeal to God to send him a Bible. Imagine devoting that amount of time and energy into asking for God’s word!

Those of us with easy access to Bibles pass them by all day long and struggle to make time to open them and pray over a single verse. Then we wonder why our story of faith is not marked by the adventures, conversions, and miracles described by Brother Yun.

Let us be challenged, loved ones, by the journey of the wise men. If something is worth finding, it is worth making an investment in the search.

It may take time, money, effort, resources, and attention. It may involve discomfort, changes, and risks. But the prize is Jesus, Creator of the Universe, Savior of humankind and a relationship with the Living God.

“The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.” Colossians 1:15-20

Is He worth the effort of a full-out search?

Yes, He is.

Not Good Enough to Go to Church - The Lamplighter

2011-12-18T18:32:00.000-05:00

A young man named William stands outside a Victorian church on Christmas Eve. The streets are quiet except for the sound of a worship service beginning.

A Lamplighter dressed in black is making his way home, checking each lamp on his way by.

William starts up the steps but backs down. He starts up the steps again but backs down a second time. He is unaware that Luke the Lamplighter has stopped what he is doing and is leaning on the lit lamppost watching him until he speaks.

LUKE: Steps too high for you, Son? Need a hand up?

WILLIAM: What? (Looks at the steps) Oh, those. No thank you, sir, I was just deciding whether or not to go inside.

LUKE: Got a name?

WILLIAM: William.

LUKE (shaking Will’s hand): Luke Freeman. Can you tell me, William, what factors weigh into your decision?

WILLIAM shrugs: I’ve had invitations to go elsewhere.

LUKE: True enough, there are many other options.

WILLIAM glances around and moves closer to Luke: The truth is I feel I just don’t belong in there.

LUKE (sizes him up): Belong, huh? Yes, well, maybe you don’t.

(William straightens up in surprise then slumps back down.) WILLIAM: So you can see I’m not good enough to be in there.

LUKE: Good enough? Is that what you think the problem is? Thinking you have to be good enough to get into the church, why, that’s like thinking you aren’t well enough to be admitted to hospital!

WILLIAM: Isn’t that what it’s all about? Being good?

LUKE: Humbug! There aren’t any good people in there. Fact is, if someone showed up who was good enough, he might just muck up the deal for the rest of us!

WILLIAM: Oh, I get it. You mean it’s not about being good; it’s about trying to be good.

LUKE: I don’t mean that at all. Try to be good? That'd be as useful as trying to be a cow!

WILLIAM: I don’t understand.

LUKE: Well, I could sincerely want to be a cow. I could try with all my heart and soul to be one. I could walk around a pasture on all fours, eat grass and moo with the best of them. Now, I might convince myself I was a cow. I might even fool some others into thinking I was a cow. But, soon as the farmer comes around for milking time, well, then the jig’d be up, wouldn’t it now?

WILLIAM (skeptically): But if it’s not about being good, what is it about?

LUKE: What do you think about when you think about Christmas?

WILLIAM: Gifts, I guess . . .

LUKE: There you go! You already know the answer, lad! (He starts to walk away.)

WILLIAM: Wait, no, I don’t understand! What do gifts and church have to do with each other?

Luke turns back and contemplates Will for a moment.

LUKE: Because we walk into that church knowing we are beggars, knowing we are not good enough to be in the presence of the Almighty King of the Universe. But rather than toss us out on our ear, as well He might, He lays out His very best before us! He offers all He has to us and that freely. Then, then in our very souls we know that He receives us to Him not because of who we are but because of who He is! Through His Son, we receive a goodness that is not our own and that is our inheritance!

WILLIAM: Sir, (pause) do the people in there (pointing toward the church) know about this? It sounds beautiful but are you sure you got it right? No disrespect, Mr. Freeman, but I know some of those people and well . . . I just don’t see it like you do.

Meanwhile, Luke has given his attention to a nearby lamp. LUKE: Do you see this lamp, Son?

WILLIAM nods.

LUKE: That flame inside, that light, it is a wondrous thing! So beautiful to behold, it burns with amazing power. That flame gives warmth, light, and guidance but it also contains a mighty force with the power to consume.

WILLIAM: Yes, but I don’t see . . .

LUKE: The problem with some of these lamps, see, is that they begin to collect dust and dirt. Some of them seem to invite soot to attach itself to them. If they aren’t tended on a regular basis, the light dims so’s you’d think it wasn’t even there. Truth is, though, that the light remains untouched, pure and blazing bright. One swipe of a rag and there is the beauty and purpose again!

WILLIAM: That’s sort of interesting but I don’t see . . .

LUKE turns to the unlit lamp. LUKE: Now, this lamp over here, this is a sad thing. Something is wrong with this one. It refuses to light. It doesn’t matter how clean this lamp gets; it cannot give light on its own. Now, it’s fine for dressing up at Christmas but it was designed for more.

(He turns to William with intensity.) Do you follow me now, Son?

WILLIAM: Are you about to tell me the Christmas story?

LUKE (passionate, intense): You know the story, boy! What you need to know is that baby. That manger babe grew up and became a man like us but more than us! He was man and He was God. He gave His life in your place. He rose from the dead! He is that Light, Boy! He is that flame burning in me. Sometimes I let the dust of my life and sin dim that flame but then I fall to my knees and in His forgiveness, I am clean. He shines through me once more and I am whole because that is my purpose, my design.

(He pauses and turns to the unlit lamp.) Look closely, son. Tonight you are this lamp. It is dark all around you, William, because you refuse to be lit from within.

LUKE (quietly, gently): We all have to make our own decision, lad. Have I helped at all with yours?

How about you? Are you in or out? Does your light shine?

Third Shift God (or why we sing about smelly shepherds in church)

2011-12-16T08:51:00.001-05:00

He sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake. He knows if you’ve been bad or good so be good for goodness’ sake.

How creepy is that, right?

Sounds more like a futuristic novel or a mystery about a stalker than a Christmas song for children.

The idea that someone sees everything we do can be unsettling. That’s why someone invented Santa. Back when moms routinely had large families, one have them must have come up with Santa in order to keep little ones in line when she was out of the room.

But, what can be a sobering thought for mischievous little ones or troublesome teens, can be an enormous encouragement to those who labor well at tasks that no one else sees.

No one human, that is. Because God never slumbers nor sleeps and He is ever watchful even over those of us who feel invisible.

There are men and women around the world doing mighty, heroic, compassionate, sacrificial things but no one knows.

These are the third shift faithful.

There are spouses holding and calming disoriented husbands or wives who awake with panic because of Alzheimer’s or who wrestle with pain from chronic illnesses.

There are moms praying late into the night over sleeping children, straying children, or sick children – battling for them on a celestial plane, bathed in the glow of night lights or listening to hospital monitors or watching for headlights in the driveway.

There are caregivers and first responders in a myriad of circumstances administering comfort, aid, rescue, consolation, and true joy while everyone around sleeps. There are young people standing behind registers and counters working hard, providing service, even when no one is looking.

There are dad’s sitting up working second and third jobs or crunching numbers to keep food on the table. And there are soldiers who aren’t even old enough to drink faithfully standing watch in lands far from home wondering if anyone is thinking of them.

That’s why I love shepherds.

Shepherds were not the rock stars of their day that the Christmas story makes them out to be. Until that band of angels showed up, shepherds were the invisible people of their day.

They were clinging to the bottom rung of society. People probably told shepherd jokes at the inns. They smelled bad. They spent hours alone and probably weren’t treasured too dearly by their own families who often chose the child with little potential for other tasks to go out to tend the flocks at night.

So, their acts of heroism – helping ewes through difficult births, defending the flock from hungry lions or wolves, and rescuing lost sheep often went unnoticed, unappreciated.

Their poetry and songs were performed for an audience of One.

Their faithfulness was taken for granted by everyone but the One who sees all.

And the joys they experienced – new lambs, light shows in the sky, or triumphing over danger – they rejoiced in these things alone, too.

But God sent a message to all invisible people who keep watch in the night when He chose to announce the birth of His Son to shepherds.

Think about it.

He’s God. His son could have been born anywhere at anytime. Certainly there were more important people who could have heard the news first. Babies are born in the daylight all the time.

I think God wanted everyone who labors faithfully but invisibly to know – He sees.

He sees everything. He knows all those times you choose to do the right thing when no one is looking. He shares your joy and He knows your sorrow. Even if no one else knows, He sees that you are a hero.

One day, everyone will know because He sees.

No one ever sang songs about shepherds until Jesus arrived on the scene. Well, not nice songs.

In heaven, they are writing songs about you, faithful ones.

So don’t lose heart in the late watches of the night. You are never alone. You are never unnoticed. God does not take your acts of love for granted.

To all those who tend and care and watch through the night, rejoice! The God of the Universe sees and One day He will tell us your story.

Until then, lift a mug of coffee to the shepherds who went before you and thank God for sending Jesus who faithfully Shepherds us through the watches of our long night.

Why Did the Trucker Cross the Road (on Christmas Eve)?

2011-12-14T22:27:00.000-05:00

Lenny Thomas had seen it all.

He’d been a big-rig trucker for thirty-five years and nothing surprised him anymore. He’d crossed the country more times than he could remember and run across every character you could imagine and some you couldn’t.

As he pulled up behind the break down on I-95 just outside of Bethlehem, PA he was not anticipating anything more than offering a lift to a stranded stranger.

“Thanks for stopping, Mister. I could really use your help.” The owner of the aging pick-up towing a horse trailer seemed like a regular Joe.

“Truck’s seen better days.” Lenny brushed snowflakes off his canvas coat. “Need a lift?”

“No, sir. It’s my wife.” He led Lenny to the horse trailer and shone his flashlight in on a young woman in obvious labor. “We’ve got no place to go, no insurance. Her time’s arrived right here, right now. I - I’ve never done this. I called 911 but that was 20 minutes ago. I think the baby’s coming now.”

The young woman screamed and Lenny figured he’d better grab a blanket from the truck. Ten minutes later, after much sweating and more blood than he usually cared to encounter, Lenny held in his rough mitts a squawking, squirming baby boy.

As the young father tended to his wife, Lenny wrapped the baby in an old flannel blanket and stared at the new life. The boy’s hand curled around his finger and Lenny felt something he hadn’t felt in years. Awe.

The horse trailer rocked as another rig sped by, too close for comfort, and suddenly the world seemed a most dangerous, dirty, terrifying place for one so small and so pure. Lenny didn’t even know this child but he cradled him close to his chest and silently prayed for his protection, his health, and his future.

Tears rolled down the old trucker’s cheeks, as, for the first time, he was awestruck that the God of all creation had chosen to send His son in such a vulnerable package to such a sinful world.

Lenny didn’t even know this infant’s name and already he’d protect him with his own life. The full-impact of the Father’s sacrifice for the sinners inhabiting this planet struck Lenny like a meteor in the desert.

“Sir, I’ll take him now.” The boy’s father reached out and Lenny reluctantly placed the little package in his arms. “Thank you for all your help.”

Lenny stood by the side of the road for a long time scanning the starry sky – half expecting to see a choir of angels.

Suddenly, another rig pulled up behind his and the driver shouted to him above the engine noise, “You need assistance?”

“No, I’m good.”

“All right, Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” Lenny shouted, meaning it for the first time in years.

The Pennsylvania State police received a dozen calls that night reporting a crazy truck driver dancing by the side of the highway, waving at passers-by and lying on the embankment making snow angels.

Reclaim your sense of wonder and awe! God can do that for you if you've lost it. Ask Him and see what happens. He makes all things new.

Old Soldiers Never Die (A Christmas Story for Warriors)

2011-12-13T07:57:00.001-05:00

"Grandma’s been hearing critters in that attic. See anything, boy?” Howard took a step up the ladder, wincing when it creaked.

Alice hollered. “Not one more move, Howard. You leave it to Tommy.”
“Fine.” He grimaced but then Tommy’s feet appeared. “You got something?”

“No squirrels, but I found this.” He passed down a rectangular package wrapped in Christmas paper.

Howard set it down, bracing the ladder as the teen descended.

“Did I spoil someone’s surprise?” Tommy asked.

Howard sniffed, shaking his head. He folded up the ladder door.

“What gives?” Tommy asked.

Howard put a finger to his lips and motioned him into the study where he gently unwrapped the G.I.Joe action figure. Tommy examined it then raised his eyebrows, puzzled.

“I bought it for your father when he was, I don’t know, ten.” Howard nodded toward the door. “You know how your grandmother feels about war toys but, it was all Dennis wanted that year. I meant to surprise him.”

“What happened?”

“Got word on Christmas Eve about my brother. Vietnam was almost over but no one told the land mine that took Trevor.” Howard paused. “Guess I just forgot about the gift.”

Tommy ran a finger over the figure on the cover. “Dad told me Uncle Trevor’s death is what made him decide to become a missionary, did you know that?”

Howard nodded. “Losing someone young changes you. Made his mother proud.”

“Funny.” Said Tommy. “When Dad died in that church fire in Indonesia, Grandma said he was a casualty of war.”

“In the battle for the kingdom.” Howard nodded and sighed. “Keep the toy soldier. It'll remind you that we’re all soldiers on a vast battlefield. Many different fronts. Always remember what you’re fighting for, Tommy.

Howard watched as his grandson flip over the little tag still taped to the box. “Merry Christmas, son. Love, Dad.”

If You Love Your Children, Don't Make Their Christmas Dreams Come True

2011-12-11T20:41:00.001-05:00

According to all the commercials and the holiday specials, Christmas is about making dreams come true.

Funny, no one told Jesus.

But then, He didn’t come to work for Walt Disney.

Ask Mary. It probably wasn’t her dream to start her married life under a cloud of suspicion.

Ask Joseph. It wasn’t his dream to have his friends wonder if he was a fornicator or a chump.

It wasn’t this young couple’s dream to spend years running and hiding from a powerful and angry king.

Nor was it the dream of families in Judea to watch Herod’s soldiers kill their infant sons.

Jesus didn’t come to make dreams come true. He came to teach us to dream better dreams.
He came as a poor child so we knew He understood the pain of going without. He endured rejection, suffering, and trials so we knew He had walked in our shoes.

He was misunderstood, betrayed, arrested, beaten, mocked, and humiliated. He was abandoned by those He loved. He was convicted unjustly and died at the hands of arrogant and manipulative blind guides – while His mother watched.

Christmas isn’t about dreams – not the dreams we normally dream.

It’s a celebration of God’s love for us made flesh in the person of Jesus Christ. God came and lived with us. That wasn’t a dream; it was real.

And it wasn’t about making our dreams come true. It was about delivering us from the lesser dreams of this world so we are free to dream eternal dreams.
He is the originator of dreams, the great Dream Weaver but we have come under the curse of one who convinced us to trade our glory for lesser dreams.

That is why we spend the holidays at Target and not caring for those in need.

If you love your children this Christmas, don’t work to make their dreams come true.
Instead, teach them to dream the best dream – that of a life with Jesus Christ – one that never ends.

If they find Him, they won't realize their dreams - they'll find their hearts!

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.” I Peter 1:3-9

Trapped in a Scary Snow Globe

2011-12-10T08:58:00.000-05:00

For some people, the holidays only intensify their feelings of isolation and separateness from others.

This flash fiction piece tells Carly's Christmas Story - The Snow Globe:

“Like a snow globe? How’s that?” The church counselor shifted forward in her chair as I searched for words.

“You know those snow globes people pull out at Christmas?”

She nodded.

“The world inside that globe seems beautiful, perfect, but if I tried to touch it or become part of it –it would shatter. To become a part of that world I would have to destroy it and then I would see that it was all really fake after all. It’s only beautiful if I leave it untouched.”

“That’s how you see God’s love for you?”

I nodded and stared out the window. She won’t understand. Church people never get me. At least I can tell mom I tried.

Snow was falling but that just deepened the ache inside me. There’s no hope for me. She knows it.

“Would you try something with me, Carly? Can you trust me with your imagination for just five minutes?”

Her face seems kind and she hasn’t said anything stupid yet. It seems like she might actually care. I nod “yes.”

“Okay. I want you to close your eyes and picture yourself trapped inside a snow globe. Only this isn’t a beautiful snow globe.

Your snow globe world is a scary city full of dirt, trash, and violent men around every corner. In your snow globe world, there are people who seem like they may become friends but then they take off their faces like masks and laugh at you, mock you and call you names.

The windows on all the apartments in this world are mirrors. When you look in them, you see only what is wrong with you, all the bad choices you’ve made, all the fear you feel, all the mistakes you’ve made.

There’s no snow in this globe, only a cold driving rain. You bang on the glass as hard as you can but it won’t break. You scream as loud as you can but you think no one outside can hear. Can you picture that, Carly?”

I’m crying but I nod “yes” again.

“But someone does hear you.

He chooses your snow globe and he finds a way in. He becomes part of this ugly, scary, horrifying world you inhabit and he finds you.

The people in the apartments laugh at him and mock him, too. The men beat him up and kill him. Are you with me?”

Nod.

“Then, just as you are thinking it’s all lost, he moves.

He’s alive and now he’s more than alive. He takes a bullet from his own chest, the one they used to kill him and he hurls it at the glass of the globe.

The globe shatters and you are free.

Suddenly, you are standing with Him in the perfect world of color and light and truth and the snow is falling around you both – pure and white. Are you there, Carly?”

“Yes.” I manage to whisper.

“That is God’s love for you, dear one. That is God’s love. That is Christmas.”

Jesus broke through every barrier to be WITH us. He can break through whatever barrier isolates you from experiencing His love.

Have you ever felt alone, separate, left out, forgotten during this holiday season? Do you feel that way now?

What's in your snow globe this season?

Christmas Dreaming Joseph Style (Or what happens when God's dreams for your life interrupt your dreams for your life)

2011-12-08T08:53:00.002-05:00

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas.”

That’s how the song goes. For many, Christmas is about making dreams come true.

We all have dreams for our lives – dreams of not only our holidays, but of what every day of our future will look like.

I’ll bet that Joseph had dreams.

He had reached adulthood, learned a trade, was betrothed to a young woman named Mary who, if she found favor with the Lord, must have been a devoted and godly Israelite girl.

I imagine he had dreams of a simple life – a future plying his trade in Nazareth, building a home with his wife and raising sons and daughters to love the Lord.

Joseph’s humble gentleness is evidenced by the fact that when his dreams began to unravel – his betrothed is found to be with child and Joseph, more than anyone, knows this child is not his own – he does not seek to “expose Mary to public disgrace but has in mind to divorce her quietly.”

This is a good man. This is a man of integrity.

But this is also a man who sees his life’s dream slip from his grasp in a moment.

But God also has dreams for us. He is our Father and we are His idea. So it comes as no surprise that He should have dreams for our lives.

While Joseph is asleep, an angel of the Lord appears to him in a dream and assures him that Mary’s child is of the Holy Spirit. She is carrying the long-awaited Messiah of his people. The angel tells Joseph that he has a part in this plan that will change the world.

So, Joseph does what the angel commands and takes Mary home to be his wife.

Things are not playing out in accordance with his original dreams.

No man dreams of taking a wife home and “having no union with her” until she gives birth to someone else’s child.

No man dreams of hearing whispers about his wife in the tavern or having the locals hide their glances when he passes. No man dreams of starting a new life under a cloud of public suspicion and derision.

No man dreams of traveling with his pregnant wife to a distant city under government edict and having little money and no place for her to rest. No man dreams of making a bed of hay among the livestock when it comes his wife’s time to deliver his first child.

No man dreams of this but this was God’s dream for Joseph.

Of course, no man would never have dreamed that a star would appear in the heavens to herald the birth of his firstborn son nor that a choir of angels would make the birth announcement to shepherds who would seek him out and offer their worship to the little one swaddled and cradled in his young wife’s arms.

Nor could he have dreamed of the danger the little one was in or the adventure on which they would embark to protect him, this baby whom the God of the Heavens entrusted into Joseph’s earthly care.

This was a dream he could not have dreamed but in surrendering to God’s plan for his life, Joseph lived a better dream.

This is true for us all. If we surrender to Him our dreams for ourselves, we awaken to His dreams for us and live out the story He wrote for our lives which is one single thread woven into a greater story – one that will be told into eternity.

I Corinthians 1:9 says this: "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him."

Joseph loved God and found a life he could never have dreamed for himself.

Do you have dreams? Have you seen dreams crushed and lost? Are you willing to surrender your dreams to live the dream God has for you?

Maybe this year, instead of dreaming of a white Christmas, you can dream His dream for your life.

Have you seen your dreams crushed? Surrender it to God and find His better dream for you, fellow adventurer.

One day, we’ll all gather with Joseph and swap stories.

“This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly. But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins." All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: "The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel"—which means, "God with us." When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. But he had no union with her until she gave birth to a son. And he gave him the name Jesus.” Matthew 1:18-25

How to Be Indestructible

2011-12-05T22:18:00.002-05:00

Once, there was a night janitor where I work.

He was a hard worker but pleasant, too. His English wasn’t fluent but we had brief, friendly chats.

One night, he said to me, “You are so kind to me. I want you to know that in my own country, I used to be somebody.”

“I used to be somebody.” I understood what he was saying.

Have you ever been separated from the things that once defined you?

Maybe it was your career, your marriage, your appearance, or an ability you had but lost.

How lost did you feel?

How hard was it to meet new people and to answer the most basic questions like where do you live, or what do you do, or are you married?

There really is no way to understand the naked exposure of losing that which defines you until it happens. And then, even though you know in your mind that others have gone through it, still, you feel very alone.

Here in America, that janitor works three, sometimes four jobs. He wears coveralls and comes to work as everyone else is leaving. He mops floors, cleans toilets, and takes orders from a young man who could have been his grandson. People seldom speak to him except to point out a spot that he missed or to ask him if he’d mistakenly taken a member’s missing cell phone. Three times they ask him, just in case.

In his country, he was a professor at a university, head of department. He taught Psychology. He enjoyed his subject, his research, and his students but there were limitations on his life and certain dangers.

In this country, he is no one. But in this country, his children do not live in fear.

Sometimes, there are compelling reasons to leave what defines us behind.

Usually, it’s not a venture we take on willingly. There’s usually a trigger, an inciting incident, a personal tsunami that rolls in and when it rolls out, we are stripped of that which used to hide the naked truth of our unadorned selves.

Now, here we stand. Just a person. Without credentials or references or photo id’s. We simply are.

It doesn’t feel like enough.

Especially, when others are dressed so well in their degrees and designations, their designer clothes and deeds of ownership, their pedigrees and histories and accomplishments and their entourage ready to offer testimonials on their behalf

We think about how, in our old country, we used to be somebody. Now, we’re not.

Most of us only enter this condition when compelled by forces beyond our control. No one volunteers to be a refugee.

But Jesus willingly stripped off all that would identify Him as God, as Creator of the Universe, as THE WORD, and became a nobody, just a baby born to some poor couple on a busy night in the city.

When He stepped into our story, He came as no one, revealing His true self only to those who took the time to take a second look.

The apostle John wrote one of the saddest passages of scripture in this: “The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him.” John 1:9-11

Have you ever experienced that? Rejection by those who used to call you their own? Refusal by those once close to you to even acknowledge you any longer?

Have you ever become nobody in front of everyone who once thought you were somebody?

Jesus did.

And like the night janitor where I work, He had a compelling reason for leaving everything that outwardly defined Him behind and outwardly becoming nothing – His love for and obedience to His Father who loved us so dearly, He sent His only son.

He wanted His children to live free from fear.

And so, He showed us that becoming nothing is not the worst thing that can happen to us. Giving up our identity, leaving our home, descending from the heights, this is nothing to fear.

Separation from the Father’s love – that is a fearful condition.

But because Jesus came, we never need to fear that again, if we receive Him.

To find our identity in the measures of this world is natural.

To find our identity in our relationship with Jesus Christ is to touch our eternal selves and to know the freedom of living indestructible lives.

God Unswaddled - Preparing the Way for the Lord at Walmart

2011-12-03T08:44:00.000-05:00

You know how when you’ve been married for a long time that there are repeat arguments that feel like déjà vu.

When those begin, don’t you want to say, “Can we just cut to the chase this time?”

The Rhode Island Governor is calling the Christmas tree at the state house, a holiday tree. Spectacular.

He has officially rung in the season for offense.

Bring out the tinsel, the garland, the radio talk show hosts and the tar and feathers, it’s Christmas in America!

What will bother believers this year?

Will it be the commercialism or the way we’re greeted by sales clerks? Will it be the rising attention given to Muslim holidays at the White House and the diminishing integrity of attention to Christmas? Will we be boycotting a business because their commercials are, well, commercial?

It’s stupid to call a Christmas tree a holiday tree. Not because it hurts Jesus, but because it’s Orwellian. Renaming things and saying something doesn’t mean what it’s always meant is straight out of 1984. It’s a tactic from the playbook of every oppressive, secular regime that’s ever staged a quiet coup.

But does it take the Christ out of Christmas? Not at my house, baby.

And have any of these regimes managed to snuff out the spirit of Christ in their land? Not in the long run. Jesus and His followers have outlasted them every time.

So, I propose we break with the most recent trending Christmas tradition and skip being offended this year. Skip the horrified indignation. It’s even Biblical according to Proverbs 19:11 “A person’s wisdom yields patience; it is to one’s glory to overlook an offense.”

How about this? Before you lecture that pimple-faced kid in a Walmart apron about the real reason for the season, ask yourself if you’ve ever concerned yourself for five minutes about the state of his soul. Find a way to love him in that moment. Then think about the best message to deliver this season.

For me, it’s this: People should worry less about how we remember His first coming and spend more time preparing for His next arrival."

That message is a herald to hark with all of our strength but the greeting cards aren’t pretty.

We’ve been a long time waiting for Him to come again but that’s how it felt the first time, too.

By the time Mary received the announcement that she was carrying God’s son, there were popular rabbis teaching that the Messiah referred to in the scriptures was, perhaps, a metaphor calling each of us to save our portion of the world. When Jesus finally arrived the first time, there were many who had grown tired of waiting for Him.

Did you ever notice the preponderance of Mary’s in the New Testament? It was a very popular name for little girls in Israel back then. It means “bitter or bitterness.” It may as well mean “We’re tired of waiting for you to save us God. We’re going to try to save ourselves.”

And there were groups of Jews trying to do that. The Zealots believed in rising up against their oppressors and fighting Rome for freedom. One of the twelve disciples, Simon, was a Zealot. He was probably not popular with his cohorts when he announced that the actual Messiah had come so he was done with swords and conspiracies against Rome.

He had a greater task.

That’s exactly how I feel right now. So, I’m laying down my holiday sword and preparing to love others, even the governor, to speak the truth, and to pray that they get the true message of Christ before their actual offenses land them in a place of judgment.

Forget that you’re offending me, sir. Worry more about the ways you may be an offense to the One who is coming again.

I don’t know exactly when but I do know that every generation is closer to the end than the last.

I also know that the admonition to “Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord” wasn’t just about receiving a swaddled baby into the world as the King Eternal. That baby grew up, lived, died, and rose again. That baby ascended and is standing beside the Father awaiting the time when He returns to call His followers home and to judge the inhabitants of earth.

Revelation 19:11-16 says this: "I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and wages war. His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him that no one knows but he himself. He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God. The armies of heaven were following him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean. Coming out of his mouth is a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. “He will rule them with an iron scepter.”He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS.”

That’s no swaddled baby in a manger. That’s the Jesus who is coming again – just as He promised.

Don’t worry about whether or not you’re prepared for this Christmas season – worry whether or not you’re prepared for the season to come – the End of the Age and the return of Jesus Christ.

Prepare for the season of the white horse. He won't be wrapped in garland.

Put THAT message on your Christmas card and mail it, loved ones. Are you ready for God unswaddled?

Today's image comes from http://greisv.blogspot.com/2010/02/undefeated-conquering-warrior.html

Letting You in On a Secret

2011-12-01T10:55:00.000-05:00

Buried treasure.

Isn’t it fascinating?

Just the thought that a person could stumble on some hidden, ancient artifact or a chest of pirate’s gold stirs something deep within us.

We never outgrow the stories of people who search, braving dangers, enduring hardships, ignoring scoffers, leaving the comforts of home, taking unimaginable risks and then reaping the reward of untold treasure, hidden and unreachable to any unwilling to follow the same path.

This popular theme of storybooks and movies is echoed on reality television these days in shows that follow everyday people to storage units, pawn shops, and consignment stores searching for the ever elusive “find of a lifetime.”

Why?

Some would say it’s our inherited bent toward sin – the drive to reap what we didn’t earn, the burning greed of the big win, the selfish drive to claim what isn’t ours.

That could be it.

But, before we fell from grace, we were the glorious cap of creation made in our Father’s image. I think that, knowing what lay before us, our wise God hardwired into our design this love of buried treasure.

He knew that no matter how far we wandered from our home in Him, He could activate this embedded homing device planted in a safe place in our hearts. He designed it to awaken within us a distant memory of our life with Him, knowing it would inspire some of us to put our feet on the path of adventure.

He knew that we few, the treasure hunters of each age, would brave every danger, risk every comfort, and overcome every obstacle to regain the golden kingdom that once was our birthright, stolen from us by the evil one when he conspired with our grandparents, Adam and Eve, to destroy what God had designed in us.

Jesus said, “The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.” Matthew 13:44

Like the very best treasure, it’s not buried in an easy place to reach. Often, the path leads through dark places, hardship, suffering, loss, self-denial, and death of all the dreams our ancestors told us were good. We sometimes believe the search will kill us before we attain the prize.

But we are secured to our belay partner, Jesus, by the powerful, scarlet rope of His shed blood and so we can scale the heights or plumb the depths knowing we travel safe.

Ask any believer who has suffered or endured great hardships and they will tell you that in their darkest hour, Jesus was there. To not suffer is to know that by faith, but to suffer and to endure is to find the priceless treasure of knowing that there is no place we can go that Jesus will not travel with us. And it is to learn the way to that treasure so we can tell others.

If you face this advent season with a cup overflowing with troubles. If Hallmark commercials make you weep for all that is lacking in your life. If physical pain or fresh loss, financial hardship or disease, devastating or disappointing relationships are the soundtrack for your season, take heart. This is the path Jesus took when He came to be our Emmanuel, God with us.

He was poor. He was betrayed. People sought His life. He disappointed some. He angered others. His family thought He was mad. There was nothing in His appearance that attracted us to Him. He suffered physical pain. He had no home nor wealth. He enjoyed popularity and then rejection on a massive scale. He loved people only to watch them walk away.

To know Jesus means to sometimes follow Him down these agonizing roads even when the rest of the planet is shopping for diamonds and toasting each other’s health and success.

But it is also to find the buried treasure of the kingdom of God.

X marks the spot.

Kind of like the legs of a manger, or the stripes of a whip on human flesh or the beams of a cross.

Think about it, fellow adventurer, and hold on.

Video is from http://www.youtube.com/

God is Just Not Nice

2011-11-29T07:44:00.000-05:00

Do you worship idols?

Most of us make it through the day without encountering the topic of idols.

If asked, most people would say that the first of the Ten Commandments is unnecessary these days. “You shall have no other gods before me.” Seems an archaic request, relevant in Biblical times but outdated now.

We don’t generally see shrines or altars dedicated to little hand-fashioned gods.

Doesn’t mean they don’t exist.

Just that we’ve learned to hide them behind a curtain of sophistication.

That’s what I do.

I’m not obvious enough to carve a little soapstone idol and erect an altar in my foyer but idols and the temptation to worship them are very real in my life.

Take, for instance, the temptation to worship NICE GOD.

When I read the Bible and study church history, I see the true God. When I read the gospels and encounter Jesus, I see the true God.

But the true God doesn’t fit in my NICE GOD box so I decide to edit Him a little (or a lot).

Using my spiritual airbrush, I make parts of Him disappear and all that’s left behind is NICE GOD.

NICE GOD is powerful , but He only uses that power for good, like healing and giving people stuff they want.

Sin makes NICE GOD sad but then He remembers Jesus and He’s happy again and we’re fine. Tra-la.

NICE GOD is easy to bring out in conversations with others. He loves poor people. He stands up to religious phonies. He’s down on judging others. People like NICE GOD and they think I’m cool for following Him.

Here’s a sign that you’re worshiping an idol and not the true God: it’s easy.

Here’s another sign: other people like Him and never get uncomfortable when you bring Him along.

NICE GOD fits in my pocket (or on the bumper of my car, my T-shirt, or hanging from the end of my necklace).

He only speaks when spoken to and He’s open to my requests for sunshine on my picnics, money to pay my bills, and healing for my nasty cold because I’m busy this week.

NICE GOD is as easy to swallow and as full of sunshine as Vitamin C.

Sometimes, I’m stupid enough to open my Bible to search for NICE GOD in the scriptures. Usually, it’s when there’s a lot of trouble in my life and I’m sure that somehow NICE GOD just needs a reminder that trouble is bad.

Trouble comes from the devil, right? Or sometimes trouble comes because I’ve sinned a little or made a bad decision but NICE GOD is forgiving, right? All I have to do is cruise around the Bible, find an old promise of prosperity, nudge Him a bit in prayer and He’ll get right onto turning things around for me, right?

Serves me right that usually on these spiritual scavenger hunts, I encounter indications that “nice” is not a word I’ll be using when I’m face-to-face with the Lord, illustrated by verses like this:

“I am the LORD, and there is no other. I form the light and create darkness, I bring prosperity and create disaster; I, the LORD, do all these things.” Isaiah 45:6b-7

I create disaster? What’s up with that? NICE GOD wouldn’t set a hurricane on a flea. Who’s this guy?

Or how about this verse in Isaiah 48: “See, I have refined you, though not as silver; I have tested you in the furnace of affliction. For my own sake, for my own sake, I do this. How can I let myself be defamed? I will not yield my glory to another.”

Nothing really nice about afflicting people or giving tests. Seriously.

Maybe I should turn to the New Testament.

Ah, here’s Jesus talking, in John 8. Jesus is nice, right?

“Jesus said to them, “If God were your Father, you would love me, for I have come here from God. I have not come on my own; God sent me. Why is my language not clear to you? Because you are unable to hear what I say. You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father’s desires.”

That’s kind of uncomfortable. Telling people that they’re children of Satan falls right off the nice-o-meter. It’s not a cozy parable or a laughing meal with sinners. It’s actually kind of tough stuff.

Who is this guy?

Idol revealed.

“NICE GOD” is a fabrication of my own mind, a false god, a lie.

The true God visits disaster on people. He judges sin. He sends adversity, affliction, and tests that humans sometimes fail. He’s not concerned with my comfort, not in the short run, and “short” for Him can be a lifetime.

No one walks away from an encounter with the living God and says, “That was nice.” Or “Isn’t He so nice?” But is that something I really hope to find in the Creator of the Universe? Nice?

God is good but the things He allows into our lives for our good and for His glory aren’t always nice.

Jesus doesn’t make life nice. Sometimes He messes it up entirely.

It’s not nice when He takes His hammer and slams it down on my little NICE GOD idol. It stings a little. And it takes away my comfy delusion that if I just figure out the key to NICE GOD then my life will get easy.

But with NICE GOD out of the way, I’m free to get back on the adventure with the true God.

With the lie of NICE GOD broken into plastic pieces at my feet, I’m free to see the truth.

The truth isn’t always nice.

But let me live a life of not-nice truth over a beautiful lie and in the end, when I encounter the living God face-to-face, I won’t think He’s nice, but I’ll know I’m home.

Sometimes I'm an Ass

2011-11-26T10:18:00.001-05:00

Have you ever met a Christian who seems very impressed with the notion that God speaks through him or her?

Have you ever believed you had a message from God for someone else and felt very special that He called on you to deliver it?

Knowing my own bent toward arrogance, one of the most frequent stories of the Bible to which I turn is in Numbers 22:21-25. Take time to read it.

It’s the story of a time when God spoke to a man through the donkey on which he rode.

It’s a good story to bring up to people who feel special because God speaks through them. Remind them that He also once spoke through an ass.

A frequent reader of my blog who only knows me in passing commented recently that even though I seem to be having my own version of a year like Job, I seem to be spiritually together.

Let’s fix that notion, shall we?

One kindness God wove into the Biblical narrative is that He included every weakness and misstep the great heroes of the Bible made along the way. God never wants anything to stand between each of us and Him, especially not some false notion that only spiritual giants get to go on the adventure with Him.

He’s actually prone to choosing us spiritual little people in order to make the point that it’s Him that makes the difference, not us.

Take for example, a recent prayer time I had with the Lord.

I was calmly discussing the troubles He’s allowed to visit my life in the past year.

Okay, I wasn’t calm at all. I was in my car and I was talking aloud to Him and if anyone saw me, they’d have been tempted to call 911.

I’d read Psalm 91 that morning and it was bugging me. Particularly, the verse that says, “If you say, “The LORD is my refuge,” and you make the Most High your dwelling, no harm will overtake you, no disaster will come near your tent.”

Not only has disaster come near my tent, it’s taken my tent!

So, I was complaining to God, suggesting that enough is enough now. Pointing out that, not only have I reached the end of my own strength, I’m running on the fumes of grace these days. I don’t feel spiritual. I don’t see the big picture. I’m just tired and I feel as though He doesn’t even see me!

I kid you not, at the moment I said that phrase “It’s like You don’t even see me anymore.” a sparrow swooped out the sky across my windshield and landed next to my parked car.

Was my response to be comforted as I was visually reminded that “if His eye is on the sparrow, then I know He watches me?”

No. Quite frankly, it sent me over the edge. I was annoyed by this response from God, my Father, my friend.

“Great! That’s just great!” I prayed. “Is this supposed to make me feel good? Well, it doesn’t. It’s annoying, actually, that you DO see me and yet You don’t fix the things that are wrong. You’re choosing to leave me in this! Nice. Thank you.”

If I had good aim, I’d have thrown a rock at the sparrow.

So, now you see. Not such a spiritually “together” soul behind the wheel of this blog. God and I, well, we have our moments and I’m always the problem.

The truth is, that as annoyed as I was by the whole sparrow message, it did calm me down. It did comfort me. I am relieved to know He hasn’t lost sight of me and that He hears me and puts up with my ranting devotion.

But the truth of me is that I lose it sometimes. I don’t handle everything gracefully. Sometimes, it takes precious little to push my buttons and I reveal my own bent toward self-pity, ingratitude, anger, petulance, self-centeredness, and small faith.

But this blog isn’t about the truth of me. It’s about the truth of Jesus.

See, God did not fix everything in Jesus’ world.

God saw Jesus in Gethsemane. He saw Him suffering and pleading to NOT have to make the journey to the cross. He heard Him ask for God to make some other way.

And He saw Jesus make the choice to trust Him when it was clear that the answer to His prayers was not a changed situation.

Jesus trusted God down the darkest road any human has ever had to walk and at the end of that road was the light of life, not only for Him but for all of us.

He is the perfect hero of scripture. He is the perfect hero of my life. If there is any togetherness in my world, He is the author of it.

I don’t think it’s coincidence that He rode into Jerusalem on a donkey.

It reminds me that with Him, I can make the journey down any road.

Even when I’m an ass.

Avoiding the Scale at the Holidays (or How to Get Really, Really Fat for Christmas)

2011-11-22T09:19:00.001-05:00

Weighing in.

Stepping on the scale.

Facing the number between our feet.

Tough stuff.

Do you ever avoid the scale?

Do you ever hesitate to face the judgment of that dispassionate instrument on the bathroom floor?

It doesn’t hear excuses.

It won’t forgive little slips.

It doesn’t care about the situation, the stress, your story, the reasons.

It just faces you with a number, a fact, the truth.

You took in more than you gave out and the remainder was stored as ugly fat.

Ugh.

So, what do you do?

Take action?

Eat less? Move more?

What most of us do is – avoid stepping on the scale.

La – la- la- la, I don’t even see you there, scale. If I don’t step on you, I’m fine.

I feel fine.

I look okay.

I’m doing great.

This extra little bit, that’s no big deal.

But then there are scales we can’t escape. The doctor’s visit. Oh, right. There’s that number again. How did it get that high?

It’s the same for me. I’ve had to work on my relationship with the scale. I’ve had to learn to refuse to see that number as an agent of condemnation but, instead, to see it as a friendly fact, a useful truth, that keeps me on track toward my goal of attaining a healthy weight.

For years, I avoided the scale. But that only led to self-deception and a problem that grew and grew because I ran from that number.

Now, I know. The scale is a useful tool. This tiny instrument of judgment can be my friend if I am willing to face it and then act on the information it provides.

I work with others who are working toward weight loss. Part of what I do is help them learn to face the scale.

Recently, one of my clients skipped a week checking in. She came in the next week and sat with me. “I didn’t come because I know what the scale is going to say. But then I realized, if I don’t face the scale, I won’t continue toward my goal. If I stay away, I’ll miss out on the support I need. So, I’m here this week. Help me face the scale.”

I thought of this today when I read these words in the gospel of John, “And this is the judgment; the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed. But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God.” John 1:19-21 ESV

Even if weight is not our issue, we all inherited a tendency from Adam and Eve to hide from judgment, to run for cover rather than risk having our deeds exposed on God’s scale.

The thing I am continuing to learn through my relationship with Jesus is that the scale, the facts, the truth, is always on our side. Light is our friend even when it exposes us because that is the moment we have the opportunity to choose to change.

And Jesus is beside us at the scale providing the strength, the power, and the tools we need to make that change happen. We aren’t alone there, naked, exposed, or helpless. He calls us to the scale and stands beside us. Nods His head and says, “Yup, there it is. Would you like that number to change? Come with me. Together, we can make that happen.”

But if we refuse to come with Him and step on that scale –

leave our Bible’s unopened, avoid gathering with other believers, harden our hearts, close our wallets, delete our viewing history, refuse to forgive, run prayerlessly through another day –

then we are choosing darkness and self-deception

and we will probably take in more than we give out and the fat will accumulate on our soul, weighing us down and testifying to a life that runs from the light, scurrying to hide in the bushes when God calls.

The holidays can be a kind of scale in our lives. They have a way of facing us with what is lacking in our relationships, our bank accounts, and our inner selves.

We run from them a hundred different ways – overspending, overscheduling, overeating, overdrinking, overcriticizing, or pulling away alone.

I feel like that. I’d like to hide from the scales of this holiday season. I don’t want to face the number this year.

But I’m going to try something different. Rather than run from the holidays, I’m going to try to face them with Jesus.

I hear Him inviting me to walk through these weeks looking at what is lacking in my life head on, no running for cover, and let Him show me how to face the scale with grace. Change what I can. Trust Him for what I can’t. Allow Him to teach me how to walk in the truth and not to run from it.

I’ve learned from the scale in the bathroom that I am not free of it by choosing to avoid it. I am only free when I can face whatever it says and use the truth to guide my next choices.

Jesus says the same thing to us only on a much grander scale.

“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death.” Romans 8:1-2

How will you face the holidays? Do you hear Jesus inviting you to come into the light?

When You Decide You're Not a Goat

2011-11-20T10:10:00.000-05:00

Ever feel like you’re still in high school?

Remember how there was a cool crowd and an out crowd? Remember trying to find a seat in the lunchroom or surviving the bus ride home?

Ever feel as though, while your body ages, inside you’re still a scared and awkward adolescent just praying you won’t make a total fool of yourself and that somewhere out there you’ll find a small group of people who will agree to be your friends?

Oh, yeah, me neither. I was just sayin’, you know?

But, if you did feel like that, you know, just suppose, then imagine the strain of following Jesus – I mean, really following Him.

He’s pretty out there.

And following Him means being out there, too.

It would be one thing if the kingdom of God was all stained glass, rituals, and beautiful music performed in a Sunday venue. And some people try to make it that. They always have. The prophet Ezekiel, speaking for God, called people out on this practice:

“As for you, son of man, your people are talking together about you by the walls and at the doors of the houses, saying to each other, ‘Come and hear the message that has come from the LORD.’ My people come to you, as they usually do, and sit before you to hear your words, but they do not put them into practice. Their mouths speak of love, but their hearts are greedy for unjust gain. Indeed, to them you are nothing more than one who sings love songs with a beautiful voice and plays an instrument well, for they hear your words but do not put them into practice.” Ezekiel 33:30-32

Even before MTV, it was our bent to watch Jesus as if He was performance art. To applaud Him for His amazing works and then to sit back and asked to be blessed but not to wonder if we should join Him on stage. That’s work, man. That’s risk, exposure, ridicule, dedication, hours practicing when no one hears.

So much happier here in the audience watching. “Waiter, bring us another round.”

Jesus called us out on it directly in Matthew 11:16-17

“To what can I compare this generation? They are like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling out to others: “‘We played the pipe for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn.’”

WE are important. The crowd. The gang. The populace. The polls. The masses. The majority. WE rule.

Don’t go out there alone, man. It’s not safe.

Dude, seriously, what are you doing? You can’t make it alone.

You need us, our friendship, our approval, our protection, our collective thinking.

Jesus, man, He’s okay to visit but you LIVE with us.

If you go after Him, we can’t help you, man. We won’t be there.

Do you even know anything about Him? I mean, where does He hang?

Have you even listened to Him? Some of the stuff He says is WAY not cool. I mean, the love stuff is great and He’s got some good bands but seriously, sometimes He just doesn’t seem to even care what other people think.

If you follow Him, you’re on your own. We’re out of here.

“For you have spent enough time in the past doing what pagans choose to do—living in debauchery, lust, drunkenness, orgies, carousing and detestable idolatry. They are surprised that you do not join them in their reckless, wild living, and they heap abuse on you. But they will have to give account to him who is ready to judge the living and the dead. For this is the reason the gospel was preached even to those who are now dead, so that they might be judged according to human standards in regard to the body, but live according to God in regard to the spirit. The end of all things is near. Therefore be alert and of sober mind so that you may pray.” I Peter 4:3-7

“They” used to make fun of you from benches and bleachers, smoking weed and holding beers in their hands. Dressed in jeans and T-shirts they defined coolness, acceptance, and survival. Sometimes it felt as though they held your future in their hands.

“They” are still wearing jeans but now they’re sitting in boardrooms or barstools holding martinis or margaritas, they save their weed for home. And now, you see, they pretty much do hold your future in their hands. Acceptance means promotion, raises, benefits, job security, the best assignments, political clout.

But that’s just the future now.

There’s more to come.

And there are children starving, women trafficking their bodies, men selling their souls and they won’t know the way out unless you get it to them

And the crowd in the boardroom hasn’t got a clue.

The One who knows the way out, the pathway to freedom, that’s Jesus.

You can join Him in freeing others but first, you need to let Him free you from THEM.

(Step 1: Read Matthew 25:31-46. Step 2: Do what it says. Step 3: Do it again tomorrow.)

How Many Fig Leaves Does It Take to Make a Suit of Armor?

2011-11-18T08:25:00.001-05:00

Are you surrounded, like I am, by people who know things?

I mean, a lot of things,

like how the country should be run, what to do about complex foreign policies and intricate domestic situations, how to end all wars, how most people should eat, exercise, relate to others, and handle their money, what decisions Hollywood stars should have made, what mistakes professional athletes made in the last game, how police should solve crimes faster, who is guilty and/or not guilty of these crimes, and how I should run my life.

Like me, do you find these people less helpful than they think they are?

I’m amazed at the general public’s inclination to discuss other people’s lives and to offer running commentary on how they should live differently. And now, modern technology has made it possible to talk about more people, from further away, faster than ever!

One phrase I seldom hear in conversation these days is “Well, I don’t think that’s any of our business.”
Talk about starting a revolution! In most corners of modern society, that line would do it.

I don’t know about you but I’ve got my hands full with my own life. On any given day, I’m faced with dozens of dilemmas and decisions for which I struggle to determine the best answer as I sort through the impact my decision will have on myself and those around me.

I get it wrong a lot.

So, I can’t imagine having the answer for other people’s lives when, after fifty years of working at it, I’m barely an expert in my own.

Other people don’t see it that way, though.

Yesterday on Facebook, my local news station posted the breaking news that Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher plan to divorce. They posed the question to viewers “Is there anyone who thought that marriage would last?”

How arrogant and unhelpful is THAT?

I don’t know why I care so much since I don’t know Demi or Ashton and they aren’t likely to be affected by the local station’s viewers opinions but it just bugged me.

It does seem to be the most popular modern mindset to be sooooooo wise that we see everything coming. To be so savvy that no one would ever pull anything on us. To be sooooo cynical that when things go bad, we could have told you they would.

We live at a cool distance from others so when their disasters strike we remain unaffected. That way we can offer up commentary on what they SHOULD have done and can congratulate ourselves on dodging their bullet.
It has the appearance of wisdom.

I just can’t live that way.

I think in order to live that way, we need to shut off some vital part of our humanity. The part that is willing to believe, to care, to invest in people in a way that leaves us vulnerable to deep pain.

It hurts when others fail us. It hurts to be deceived, disappointed, and disillusioned. The Penn State situation is illustrative of the magnitude of pain one single person can cause an individual and an entire community.

But is the answer to create walls around ourselves, to never believe in people or ideas like marriage, community, or high ideals?

Here is where the Bible offers a perspective on life that can truly save us from ourselves.

The truth is that the world is damaged and it’s full of damaged and sinful people who at any turn can cause physical, emotional, and relationship devastation in a single decision. Self-protection, though, is about as effective as clothing sewn from fig leaves in a garden. It’s a natural reflex but doesn’t really play out.

Instead, God offers to be our protector.

“I love you, LORD, my strength. The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.” Psalm 18:1-2

Even when something enters in and hurts our lives deeply, God is able to save.

“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. The righteous person may have many troubles, but the LORD delivers him from them all” Psalm 34:18-19

If Jesus is our refuge, our shield, our protector, then we don’t have to live lives trying to hold fig leaves up over our sensitive parts. We can live boldly, freely, able to trust, to love, to give, and to invest in others –

Even when we know some of them will hurt us, crush our spirits, and break our hearts.

The truth is that we can’t always see it coming.

Evil is that good at deception. At some point, any one of us can be blind-sided by it and how constructive is it for others to stand off to the side and say, “I would have seen that coming a mile away?”

Shut up, already.

Jesus can repair all brokenness, heal all hurts, and restore all spirits. If we live our lives in relationship with Him we can live free to risk loving and investing in others, even knowing we will sometimes get it wrong or be crushed by others.

Jesus said, "Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 18:3

Children aren’t cynical gossips who judge others and hold themselves back from love. Children are believers who run into love with open arms, they forgive easily, and they embrace wonder.

The longer we live this life, the harder it is to do but that is the miracle of a relationship with Jesus. When you meet people who have walked on this planet for many years and are still willing to love others and to believe, then you know the true power of Jesus Christ to save from all sin.

Remember that Jesus loved and invested in Judas, even knowing he would one day betray Him.

We can have that kind of fearless love, too. We get it from Jesus.

Because it takes a lot of fig leaves to sew a suit of armor, believe me, I've tried, too.

Maybe God's Out in the Parking Lot

2011-11-15T07:20:00.002-05:00

Did you ever get bored with the truth?

Have you ever just wanted someone to tell you want you want to hear?

I’ve been there.

I work in an industry where the truth can get pretty stale.

People desiring to lose weight come to my classes hoping I’ve discovered a secret that is newer, faster, sexier, more exciting than the truth I tell them.

The formula for weight loss is this: Eat well. Eat less. Move more.

What?

We’ve heard that. We’ve tried that. We’ve been there.

No. Tell us there’s a special machine in the fitness center that does the work for us. Show us one food we can drop from or add to our diet that will magically burn calories. Give us hidden tricks, new science, rare magic!

And, I do have information and behavioral motivation strategies to teach them, so that’s exciting – for a while.

But when our eight weeks, or twelve weeks, or sixteen weeks are over, they ask, what now?

What now? Now you just do it.

What do you mean we just do it? Isn’t there more to learn?

No. Now you just keep employing what you’ve learned. You know. Keep eating well, keep eating less, and keep moving more.

Then I see the look.

Disappointment. Panic. Frustration. Even though they see that what they’ve been doing works, they’re addicted to the new, the trendy, the promise of a magic breakthrough. Continuing to count calories, perform push-ups, and reduce fat just seems, well, not special enough.

Sometimes that happens to people seeking God.

We like excitement. We want a little thrill.

We seek God but sort of like people who love roller coasters and travel from theme park to theme park, we are not always so much after God as we are after the higher, faster, more exciting thrill of “what’s next?”

Have you heard this amazing speaker? You must go to this conference! That book will change your life. Have you tried this new prayer? Taken this class? Visited this church? Followed this preacher? Heard this worship band? Tried this formula for outreach?

Like carnival Christians, we travel the circuit playing the newest games, riding the fastest rides, and falling prey to the barkers outside the big stage as we slip behind every new curtain thinking that one will be the best ever!

And somewhere, Jesus is waiting. Outside the carnival circuit, maybe on the dusty road by the parking lot. He looks like an attendant. No one we would notice against the bright lights on the other side of the ticket booth.

He’s pretty patient.

He’s waiting for people who tire of spinning the roulette wheel at the Casino Church. Those who just can’t put another quarter in the spiritual slot machine. Those who know the games are rigged to never produce the promised thrill but only entice the prayer to try one more time . . .

He’s there saying this:

Love me with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength and with all your mind and love your neighbor as yourself.

That’s it.

He doesn’t have a T-shirt to sell you that says that.

He’s not teaching a three-part series on it.

He’s not passing out flyers to the “Love the Lord with all Your heart conference.”

He doesn’t have a forty-day plan.

But if you’ll do it, He’ll do it with you.

Do it today.

You know, the love God and your neighbors thing.

Maybe you’ll be bad at it today. You won’t get it just right but try anyway and then talk with Him about it.

Then, when you get up tomorrow. Do it again.

Don’t seek new insight or a vision or a “special word” until you’ve made a habit of acting on this one thing.

The apostle Paul warned Timothy about our generation when he wrote this: “Preach the word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage—with great patience and careful instruction. For the time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths. But you, keep your head in all situations, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, discharge all the duties of your ministry.” 2 Timothy 4:2-5

I hear it at the gym all the time – “tell us something new!”

And over and over I know the truth is that if we all practiced half of what we already know about healthy living, it would revolutionize our bodies.

And in the church, if we all practiced just a fraction of what we already know, it would revolutionize the planet.

Are your ears itching?

Are you searching through books and blogs and bumperstickers for something to spark your faith and reignite your passion for God.

Try this today.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength and love your neighbor as yourself.

Don’t know what that looks like?

Try it anyway. By the end of the day, you’ll have a better idea.

It’s old, I know.

It’s not very catchy, I know.

But I promise you this, it’s the stuff of revolutions.

Revolutionary faith is born when ancient truth is practiced by a new generation.

Try it. You’ll see.

Something Better Than the Force (Or Time to Upgrade Your Armor)

2011-11-12T08:12:00.000-05:00

Some nights seem to last forever.

Some nights are darker than others.

Have you ever endured one of those long, dark, endless nights?

My favorite Biblical writer, John, must have faced some long dark nights.

Toward the end of his life, he was exiled to hard labor on the Island of Patmos, away from everyone he loved. After witnessing the ministry, the death, and resurrection of Jesus and the birth of the church, the isolation of Patmos would, I think, have leant itself to some amazingly dark hours.

But John had seen Jesus, so John’s testimony is this: “In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” John 1:4-5

Powerful testimony from someone who endured the martyrdom of his friends, the oppression of Roman rule, and the affliction of Patmos.

Darkness seems powerful, especially in the middle of the night.

Nighttime is often when the power of darkness can seem impossible to overcome. And darkness is a serious obstacle for the human eye, the soul, the mind.

But when you think about it, darkness has no defense against light.

It succumbs easily to even the flare of a match.

When light comes into darkness, darkness literally ceases to exist. The obstacle it presented disappears and light prevails.

Try to sleep sometime in a room with even a tiny blinking LED light. Or try to create darkness against the light of day. A photographer will tell you the challenge of keeping light out of a dark room. It takes considerable work and even the smallest bit of light can foil the darkness.

We live in dark times, though, and it can be hard to hold onto the truth that darkness has not overcome light. Especially on those long, dark nights.

Which makes me all the more thankful for Darth Vader.

If it weren’t for Star Wars, I might not have had a deeper understanding of the power of light, since the creators imagined the powerful weapon of light sabers. But such a cool concept didn’t really originate with Hollywood.

The apostle Paul wrote this to the church in Rome: “And do this, understanding the present time: The hour has already come for you to wake up from your slumber, because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light.” Romans 13: 11-12

Paul tells us that as Christians, we have “armor of light.” Which makes sense because the Psalmist declares that God “wraps Himself in light.” Light is the perfect armor against the powers of darkness.

Back in Roman times, when John was living, he could only see soldiers with metal swords, shields made from leather, clumsy iron helmets, and breastplates of chain mail. Not bad but nothing compared to what we have imagined and even developed in the day of laser accurate technology.

Makes sense, doesn’t it? If we harness the power of light, it becomes a much better defense and weapon against material darkness might use against us.

I recently complained to God that I am clumsy with the shield of faith, forever dropping it allowing the arrows of the evil one to hit their mark. I heard God laugh from His throne.

He laughed because I could only imagine that He would supply me with a pitiful small shield and so I tired because I imagined dancing around with it, trying to fend off the enemy.

“My little Star Trek fan,” I heard Him chuckle. “Can you not believe that I can create better weapons than science fiction writers can imagine? Do you not know that the shield of faith, when raised, surrounds you and covers you completely?”

And that’s when I saw it, the shield devised of light that protects me from the powers of darkness. It was there at my command the whole time.

And then I read that scripture, the armor of light, and realized that I have been seriously underestimating and underutilizing the armor of God. My mind is so full of images from ancient Rome, I’ve missed the notion that God’s armor would look more as though it were designed by George Lucas.

My helmet, breastplate, belt, and shoes glow in the dark, baby. And they are perfectly fitted to me and add no burden of weight.

My sword is like a Luke Skywalker light saber only with a celestial upgrade and my shield, well, my shield is an impenetrable wall of light against which darkness shrinks, scurrying off like a cockroach when someone flips a switch.

This is exciting to me. We live in a dark world and there is much darkness at work against us but the weapons we fight with are not the weapons of this world. And now I can see them even better.

We’ve got the force of light on our side. Can you see it? Can you begin to understand the power of it? Can you even imagine the possibilities of using it?

Try.

I have so much to learn, young Jedi. And the forces of darkness are powerful but I know something better than the force.

I know the Light.

“ In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” John 1:1-5

We Were Meant to Live For So Much More

2011-11-08T06:13:00.000-05:00

Have you ever felt there was something you were created, something special, but you just hadn’t found it yet?

Ever feel like you MUST be created for more?

You were.

Henry David Thoreau, a fellow New Englander wrote, “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.”

That’s one of the saddest quotes I know.

I’m fascinated by the birds that breed and feed in my wooded backyard. My white cat, Sushi, stalks them, often poised directly below their feeder pole but they eat and sing undeterred by the threat that lurks beneath them. They have songs and wings.

Our Creator God has a voracious appetite for variety. My common backyard birds come in a vast array of colors, sizes and designs when really He could have chosen to create just one singular breed and we would never have known the difference.

In His wisdom, He muted the colors of the females, a camouflage from predators, while the males fan and preen and display their magnificence to both win their mates and to protect them.

Yet, he blessed many of the females with brilliant flashes of color beneath their wings – for what purpose except for the joy of it and the flair of a Master’s brush? Hidden flamboyance, a color they know they have and can flash if they desire. God is so poetic in his creative expression.

Each bird, too, has its own language and call. Again, they could have all done fine with a common “caw” but instead there are tweets, twitters, warbles, cries and alarms individual to each breed and to each situation. Listeners will note that often, He has blessed the plainest, tiniest wren with the boldest and sweetest song.

God reveals His passion for variety not only in wild creatures but also in our wild selves.

We humans are alike and yet so different from each other when really one tone of skin or one color of eyes or one type of talent might have done. Instead, we each have our own coloring, our own distinctive markings, our own wings, our own song.

Made in the image of a Creator God, we are designed to create.

Our creative urges are as varied as ourselves - driving some to music, some to visual arts, others to words, some to wood and others to movement. There are those who are driven to create order, new inventions, new relationships, healing techniques, teaching methods or more children.

Some were designed to create hope in others and some to create lasting peace. The ways we express our creativity are as unique as our DNA and as necessary to a full and satisfying life.

All of us will die.

We know that too well.

Beneath the places we breed and feed lurks the ever present specter of death stalking our every move.

But we have wings and songs.

Will you go the grave with the song still in you? Will you live a life of quiet desperation? Or will you exercise the wings given you by the Master Designer?

Will you find your voice and the song He imagined only you would sing? Will the world be blessed with what was formed in you before time and what was part of the plan before He spoke light into being?

Look out on the birds and ask Him, “What song was I designed to sing? Let it take wing within me.”

Don't give up until you can hear Him. Don't give up until the song within is released. We need you. We need YOU and the song only you can deliver.

You were definitely meant for more and Jesus knows what that is.

“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.” Psalm 139:14 ESV

Video from http://www.youtube.com/

Cheeseburger Jesus

2011-11-05T15:50:00.005-04:00

Have you ever known someone who thought he had Jesus all figured out for you?

Ever encountered a church that had Jesus neatly packaged in a box , you know, so He could be pulled out whenever it was convenient?

We Christians get things wrong all the time.

I remembered that anew last night while I was staring at Cheeseburger Jesus.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

This past summer, each Sunday I worshiped in a different church in my area, all from varied Christian traditions, for a personal writing project. One thought this project brought home to me is that I do not own Jesus.

Sure, He’s my personal Savior but that doesn’t mean I have the right to personalize Him.

I mean, people try to do that, that’s how we get the theological equivalents of bedazzled Jesus, black velvet Jesus, or the ever popular Bubba Jesus.

Jesus is a person. He’s not something I can mold and fashion to my particular liking. He is a being.

I don’t create Him. I follow Him, listen to Him, obey Him, love Him, and explore what He reveals to me about Himself and His father.

Jesus is.

And I can know Him, but I am only one of the people He died to save.

There are many, many more and they come from every culture, race, economic background, educational history and experience of life. Each of them is also seeking to know and understand Jesus and I have much to learn about Him by listening to them.

The worship I experienced last night in downtown Providence was expressed in different languages. There were countless variations, also, in the worshipers from style of dress to style of worship expression.

The music was at a decibel normally reserved for rock concerts. At one point, I experienced it in a new way by sitting in the pew and feeling the vibration of the bass. A totally fresh experience of worship.

The speaker talked about Jesus because, no matter where we came from, that is what had led us all into that room – our love for Jesus Christ.

The service was held in a church whose traditions are unfamiliar to me. More high church and urban that my usual experience. I was open to that but as I took in the breathtaking beauty of the sanctuary, I confess I was distracted by Cheeseburger Jesus.

In the front of the church, between the organ pipes that span three stories, is a painting, just as high, of Jesus ascending into heaven.

Now, I come from a tradition that doesn’t normally put images of Jesus around. Images of Jesus make us Baptists a little jumpy, a bit uneasy. We are of the persuasion of the empty cross, symbolizing that Jesus is risen and alive.

But, I am not averse to such depictions. This one was not to my taste, necessarily, but looked more like the Jesus you might find on walls in ancient Constantinople.

What drove me to distraction, though, was that Jesus seemed to be ascending between two giant cheeseburgers.

Now, my daughter, after rolling her eyes and hushing me numerous times, explained that she was sure the artist intended them to be clouds or large stones but, seriously, if you visited, you, too, would see Cheeseburger Jesus. The woman beside me did and I would have polled some other people except that my daughter made me stop.

Today I researched the artist and learned he was commissioned to paint the mural in 1928. This was long before fast food franchises so when the web page proclaimed Benny Cohen/Collin was “artist ahead of his time,” I had to agree.

Who knows, perhaps this mural of Cheeseburger Jesus is what inspired the first Mr. McDonald or Mr. Burger King? Probably not, but, I knew last night He wouldn’t inspire much worship from me so rather than focus on the mural, I turned my attention to the architecture of the building.

Breathtaking does not do it justice.

The arch of the windows, the curve of the nave as it merges with the ceiling, all designed to draw the worshiper’s attention high up out of the dirt from which she was formed to the Light that formed her.

Amazing that an arch, a curve could engage my spirit in worship.

I worshiped Jesus, the architect who gave birth to the idea of the graceful arch, the gentle curve, the perfect circle. Geometry Jesus moved me and for the first time, I felt a shift in perspective inspired by a building.

As I listened to the music and studied the curves and arches, I thought how my body, too, is formed of curves and arches and then I thought about how my body is a temple of the Holy Spirit and in the moment of that thought I was no longer in a sanctuary, I became a sanctuary, the place where Jesus lives and moves and has His being and I was in a space with other sanctuaries and Jesus dwelled there among us and I even embraced the artist who created Cheeseburger Jesus because without him, I never would have focused on the details of the nave and I thought how Jesus said that if His followers were silenced even the rocks and stones would cry out and I believe that now because the rocks and stones of this old building cried out to me last night and testified to my spirit about Jesus.

I don’t own Jesus.

Neither does the painter of Cheeseburger Jesus.

Jesus transcends us.

“For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.” Colossians 1:19-20

All the fullness of God dwells in Him.

But although He transcends, He is willing to enter into relationship with us.

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” Revelation 3:20

Probably cheeseburgers.

Get to know Jesus. We all have much to learn from what you have to tell us about Him.

You see them, too, don't you?

Sometimes You Need to Walk Away from the Light

2011-11-03T12:34:00.001-04:00

“All religions are the same.”

“It doesn’t matter what you believe as long as you believe in something.”

“I’m going to let my children decide what religion they’ll be. As long as they are spiritual, that’s all that matters.”

“We should respect all religions, they each have some value, and they’re pretty much the same.”

“I want to explore all the religions. They are all beautiful in their way.”

“WASHINGTON, November 2, 2011—Uganda recently announced a tremendous increase in the number of ritual child sacrifice. According to a 2008 Ugandan Police Report, ritual murder increased over 800% from the previous year with children being the victims in the vast majority of cases.

The BBC reported that traffickers are kidnapping children from rural villages taking them to Kampala, the capital of Uganda, for ritual sacrifice. Many villagers believe the sacrifice brings wealth and prosperity, however Mr. Uri Mabiriizi, a Ugandan witchdoctor, says the influx of Tanzanian witchdoctors to Uganda is fostering ritual killings of children. During an interview, Mr. Mabiriizi explains child sacrifice in the context of the Ugandan paganism as follows:

In Uganda, we had no witches sacrificing children, traditionally speaking. [Human sacrifice or child sacrifice] was introduced to us just recently by witches from other countries such as Tanzania. Ugandan witches do not believe that they are strong enough to perform child sacrifice. They think that child sacrifice takes a witch doctor with a certain spiritual capacity to be performed. Only Tanzanian witches have the ability to perform child sacrifice and make someone’s garden dry in a few days. Ugandan witches can’t do that.

In early 2008, the Tanzanian government began cracking down on human sacrifice and witchcraft, leading many Tanzanian witchdoctors to flee to Uganda. In Uganda, they found a culture more open to their practices. Some Tanzanian witches openly advertise on the radio Ugandan to attract wealthy customers.” **

Modern humans, in all our wisdom and savvy, have developed a type of spiritual blindness that is costly and dangerous.

In choosing to worship only what we are able to see beneath a microscope or measure in a laboratory or document in a controlled study, we have become deaf to the cries of the victims of powers we cannot recreate in test tubes and petri dishes.

There is a spiritual realm, it coexists with the world we can touch, taste, and see. And in this spiritual plane, not all beauty and light is good.

There is a beauty that is evil. There is a beauty that is alluring, seductive, and as addictive as opium.

It is the beauty of the poisonous plant, the deadly viper, the stinging nettle, or the gossamer jellyfish. The true God has coded a message into the wild creatures of our planet that beauty does not guarantee safety and our attraction to something does not qualify it as good for us.

There is light in this spiritual realm but not all of it is the true light of Christ.

There is a light that attracts the guilty like moths and then electrocutes their dreams.

Light can be a warning of deadly rocks and shallow waters. Light can be a mirage, an instrument of torture in the forms of strobes or bulbs that are never switched off.

Lights can indicate a flash of explosives, the blast of a gun, the laser pointer of a sniper’s rifle, or the best place to purchase a woman. The ambient light of our own creation interferes with our experience of the light of the world and we’re even learning that LED’s and other artificial lights can contribute to insomnia, insanity, and cancer.

God has shown us clearly in the physical realm that not all light is beneficial so that we would know to test the lights we see in the spiritual realm.

All religions are equal? Don’t be so stupid and naïve.

Is the truth equal to a lie? Is good equal to evil? Is death equal to life? Is the blood of an innocent child equal to the needs of a business owner to cast a spell for financial prosperity?

If you know the truth, there has never been a more important time to speak it, to live it, to teach it, to spread it.

If you don’t know the truth, it has never been more important to find it.

“Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” John 14:6

“Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." John 8:12

For more information about child sacrifice in Uganda, visit this BBC page but be warned that it is disturbing. If you are tenderhearted, better to read the text and not watch the video. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-15267792

**http://communities.washingtontimes.com/neighborhood/rights-so-divine/2011/nov/2/uganda-tanzania-tanzanian-witches-influence-child-/

Heaven Isn't Run by Hallmark

2011-10-31T07:41:00.003-04:00

Have you ever found it hard to wake up in the morning and greet another day?

Ever wake up crying, full of anxiety, certain that the day held no promise except that it would be a challenge to suffer through from one end to the other?

Has it ever been that the encouraging words of others, rather than a blessing, felt like burning acid poured on your already scalded spirit?

Ever felt that the promises of God were meant for others but not for you?

You’re not alone (although I know it feels that way).

Today ushers in the holiday season. And while, for some, that means favorite decorations, special foods, and cherished traditions, for others it means a magnifying glass has just been thrust over the deficiencies of their lives and the white hot sun of the upcoming season will bear down on them like a lasered sunbeam on a helpless ant.

Sorry, we aren’t hiring until after the holidays.

No, they won’t let me come home for Thanksgiving or Christmas.

I can’t make it to the New Year. I’m leaving you now. I don’t care what it will do to the kids, I have to think about me.

The landlord won’t extend until December. We’ll have to find a shelter right now.

Are you his parents? I’m sorry to have to tell you this but . . .

They’ve cut back on hours. I know we aren’t making it but I’m lucky just to have a job.

No, I don’t understand why she’s acting this way either but I can’t seem to reach her. I feel so helpless.

There’s never any change in his condition except that it gets worse. It’s just the way it is. No, he won’t recognize you.

For people just barely making it through their days because of any number of stresses (emotional, financial, marital, parental, medical), the holiday season appears like a different flavor of torture. Now, they’re not only in pain but they need to smile through it. Now, they’re not only depressed but they will have a front row seat to others’ happiness. Now, if they show up, they’ll just ruin the good time for everyone else.

And within the family of God, this can be just as hard, if not harder.

You just have to trust God. Don’t you believe He’ll provide for you?

Just keep praying and waiting. I’m sure things will turn around.

God loves you and has a special plan for your life. You need to praise Him, tithe more, serve others, forget your own problems, give it all over to Him, be positive, focus on your blessings, repent of your depression, think about the real reason behind the season, smile and keep your eyes on Him, come to our pageant, you’ll feel better being with a group.

People mean well.

They really do but suffering has an isolation factor that’s hard to penetrate from either side. That doesn’t mean, though, that we should give up trying.

If you’re suffering, first of all, be honest with God. Read Jeremiah 20 if you need a blueprint for this:

“Cursed be the day on which I was born! The day when my mother bore me, let it not be blessed! Cursed be the man who brought the news to my father, "A son is born to you," making him very glad. Let that man be like the cities that the LORD overthrew without pity; let him hear a cry in the morning and an alarm at noon, because he did not kill me in the womb; so my mother would have been my grave, and her womb forever great. Why did I come out from the womb to see toil and sorrow,and spend my days in shame?” Jeremiah 20:14-18 (ESV)

Jeremiah knew how to throw down some agony before the throne of grace. Whatever you’re thinking or feeling, God knows already so make it a prayer, a real conversation with God.

Second, hang out near safe people and avoid toxic ones. You know, the ones who really don’t get it.
But, don’t judge them. You’ve no idea what their story is behind that sweater with the Christmas puppy on the front and the giant plate of gingerbread. They may be hurting just like you but they’ve been trained to stick a bow on it and smile.

Third, remember that heaven isn’t run by Hallmark. God doesn’t frown on you for mentioning your situation when it’s supposed to be all about Him. He doesn’t take a break from real issues because it’s December. He hasn’t lost you in the crowd because He’s got a list of things to do a mile long. And, He’s not limited, so He isn’t just focused on the people with “real” problems or the ones who have their acts together.

God is WITH us. He’s not donning sunglasses and packing for a holiday cruise. He hangs out in homeless shelters, homes with foreclosure notices and no heat, kitchens with empty cupboards, hearts with fading hope, offices full of pressure, minds distraught with fear, and relationships at the breaking point.
He’s so there.

If you’re not suffering this season but really do love people who are, seek the heart and mind of God.

Give sacrificially and personally. Don’t just send shoeboxes far away, look to the needs in the next pew. Sometimes cash actually does solve problems (like when the problem is a lack of cash, for instance).
Pray sacrificially. Intercede for those who suffer. Don’t increase your shopping time, triple your prayer time. Don’t decorate, advocate. Barrage the gates of heaven with intercession. Instead of an errand list, write an intercession list and work it!

And if you are able, provide a safe place for those who are in pain to be whatever they are right now. Are they angry, scared, lonely, depressed, frustrated, or confused? Don’t insist that their hearts conform to the calendar in your presence. Let them be real and show them the face of Christ that doesn’t reject authenticity.

God knew where He was sending His son. He’s not shocked by our pain, our problems or our suffering. He isn’t repulsed by our failure nor does He reject our humanity. It’s why He came.

“The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn” Isaiah 61:1-3 (ESV)

God is at work during the holidays as much as the rest of the year. There’s no reason He won’t meet with you now. He’s not tied up with receiving all the gratitude of Thanksgiving or all the attention of Christmas.

He’s with you. And He’s not afraid to enter your suffering heart. Let Him in.

Just Call Me Useless!

2011-10-29T07:55:00.001-04:00

Have you ever been hurt by someone else’s words?

Do you bear wounds and scars from words tossed carelessly at you as you were growing up?

“I’ve never known anyone so useless.”

Those words are my grandfather’s legacy to me.

He would actually say them aloud on occasion but even when he didn’t say those exact words, he communicated the sentiment to me loud and clear.

I am useless.

The spot where those words, like a poison arrow, found their mark in my spirit is scarred over but occasionally, like an arthritic predicting rain from joint pain, it aches in that place. The evil one reopens the old wound and I bleed with an overwhelming sense of my own uselessness in the universe.

I know plenty of useful people.

One friend is a nurse. That’s useful.

Another is a doctor. He’s useful.

My mother can manage an office, sew, and keep books.

My father is a firefighter.

My husband builds things.

One friend cleans teeth, another teaches martial arts. Another fixes cars. I’m surrounded by useful people.

Not me. I’m a writer.

Not much call for that in the wake of disasters or hardship.

My husband and son have been several times to the New Orleans area to help rebuild. I have friends living in Haiti who know how to navigate the Haitian culture and serve as a bridge between Haitian nationals and American teams who come to help. Very useful people.

I wrote a blog post about Haiti.

Years ago, I knew a woman who was leading campus ministries. She was useful. A major Christian publisher asked her to write her story. She didn’t want to do that. I was a home school mom, at the time, just beginning to write small essays for newspapers and magazines.

“Isn’t it ironic?” This woman observed one night at a woman’s gathering. “I’ve got something to say but I don’t want to write. You want to write but . . .”

Ouch. She obviously felt I had nothing worthwhile to say. Another arrow embeds in my spirit. I am useless.

Not long ago, I told someone I was working on a novel. “The world is such a mess; do we really need another novel?” She observed. “And if God were going to tell you to do something, wouldn’t He tell you to go feed the poor or care for orphans or something practical like that?”

That one nearly put me down for the count. I set aside my keyboard and lay face down on the mat like a boxer in his last round. I could hear the official begin the count. 1, 2, 3 . . .

It made me wonder if Bible men and women of God lay prone before His throne in that same position because they, too, had been pummeled by the blows of the evil one through the careless words of others. 4, 5 . . .

I lay there thinking about how real the blows to my spirit felt when actually the only weapon used against me was words. 6, . . .

Words can be weapons. In martial arts training, we learn to use whatever we have available to us. I have words. 7, 8 . . .

If words could be used to wreak such havoc in my spirit, pain that echoes through decades of life, then maybe they are as real as scalpels, fire extinguishers, hammers, needles, wrenches or dental drills. 9 . . .

Hey . . .

If words can be weapons, they can be used in the battle for God’s kingdom.

If words can be weapons, they can be defensive as well as offensive.

If words can be weapons, perhaps they can be tools for building, for repairing.

If words can be poison, perhaps they can be medicine for healing.

At this point, I am still lying face down before the throne but I am no longer a boxer wrestling with defeat. Now I am a worshiper, in awe of God’s power to transform the useless things of this world into things of purpose and value.

Even hurtful words.

Even wounds,

Even scars.

Even me.

“But if I say, “I will not mention his word or speak anymore in his name,” his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot.” Jeremiah 20:9

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” John 1:1

“I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and wages war. His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him that no one knows but he himself. He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God. The armies of heaven were following him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean. Coming out of his mouth is a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. “He will rule them with an iron scepter.” He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS.” Revelation 19:11-16

Because God always has the last word.

That's It. I Quit. I'm Out. That's All She Wrote.

2011-10-27T08:38:00.001-04:00

I’m a quitter.

Most people don’t know that about me because I’m also a procrastinator

so I don’t get around to following through on quitting

but I quit on things all the time.

I’ve quit on my marriage. My husband of twenty-three years knows how many times I’ve given up.

I frequently quit on homeschooling. Over the twenty-some years that I educated my two children at home from pre-K through high school, there were many days I warned them that the following week they would be registered for public school.

I quit on karate about twelve times a week before I earned my black belt. Most people don’t know about that because I was usually mumbling about giving up as I was face down on a mat.

I quit writing at least twice a week

but no one notices.

That’s why I find the Bible verses about perseverance to be most annoying.

Perseverance, what a boring virtue!

A clue to the irritating nature of perseverance is that it’s generally mentioned in tandem with its twin sister – patience and it’s developed by enduring suffering. Really. Need I say more?

James writes about perseverance in chapter 5: 7-11: “Be patient, then, brothers, until the Lord's coming. See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its valuable crop and how patient he is for the autumn and spring rains.

You too, be patient and stand firm, because the Lord's coming is near. Don't grumble against each other, brothers, or you will be judged. The Judge is standing at the door!

Brothers, as an example of patience in the face of suffering, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord. As you know, we consider blessed those who have persevered. You have heard of Job's perseverance and have seen what the Lord finally brought about. The Lord is full of compassion and mercy.”

OK, how irritating is that? Farmers, Job, prophets, suffering, waiting – all boring, all hard to do. Where’s the gratification? Where’s the glory? Where’s my best life now?

Galatians 6:9 is another annoying passage: “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

Again, with the farming, the waiting, the not giving up.

There’s nothing exciting about watching things grow. Try it some time. Planting is fun, harvest is a Mardi Gras but the actual growing – this is not the gripping stuff of bestselling novels or summer blockbusters!

Knights of the Round Table were often known for their virtues. Sir Lancelot, the brave. Sir Dinadan, the bold. Sir Bedivere, the True. That's cool!

But no one is lining up to be known as Sir George, the Perseverant or Sir Stephen, the Long-Suffering. Seriously, send me a decent dragon to fight not an acre of land to plow, sow, tend, and wait!

So, how does a quitter with an aversion to long-suffering stay married twenty-three years, homeschool for the long run, earn a black belt, or continue to show up at the keyboard every day?

Daily meetings with God at the well that never runs dry.

He listens to my complaints. He endures my irritation and my impatience. He nods when I offer my resignation. Then, He speaks. I listen. He pours Himself into my empty cup - Living Water for my thirsty soul.

Okay, I decide. I’ll give it one more day – but I’ll probably quit tomorrow.

God smiles. He knows all about perseverance. Believe me, He’s the Master.

What are you ready to quit?

"Never, never, never give up!" ~ Winston Churchill

Beware: Country Music Can Kill!

2011-10-25T08:42:00.000-04:00

Growth is a funny thing.

In high school, I did an experiment on the effect of music on plants.

I had one control group that I allowed to grow normally without music.

The second group of plants, I exposed to classic rock. They grew taller and thinner than the control group.

The third group I exposed to classical music. They grew shorter but fuller than the rest.

Finally, the fourth group heard only country music. Okay, brace yourself. They died.

(It’s what happened. It’s not a commentary on country music. I was a kid conducting an experiment in my bedroom in the 70’s using a record player. Read into it whatever you will. For the record, some of my best friends listen to country music and they seem quite healthy.)

The point is that there are numerous factors that can affect growth. Even seeds planted on the same day in identical soil in similar conditions will sprout and blossom at different rates.

Christians are like that.

Growth is a process with a certain element of mystery. We can foster it, encourage it, nurture it, support it, inhibit it, stunt it, stop it even but forcing it or faking it generally results in disaster for the plant (or for the Christian).

Forcing growth tends to look a lot like legalism. It sounds like nagging, scolding, lecturing, pleading, and judging. It feels like frustration. It generally results in damage to either the forcer or the forcee.

Faking growth is very common and just as dangerous. Remember the fig tree Jesus encountered in Matthew 21? It looked like it was mature and ready to bear fruit but there were no figs among its branches. This pseudo-maturity resulted in disaster for the tree.

Sometimes, we Christians, fearful of exposing the true nature of our growth in Christ, pretend to be more mature than we are. We risk the same result as the fig tree.

There’s really nothing wrong with appropriate immaturity. We expect immaturity from the young. If your life reflects your actual maturity level, the word for that is integrity.

It’s also normal to have some areas of immaturity if one has been subject to interruptions in growth by disasters or outside forces. One sign of abuse or neglect in children is pseudo-maturity. It can be overcome but not until it’s recognized for what it is.

Faking maturity never ends well. It is, after all, a lie.

I remember once when my daughter was small I was waiting for her to tie her shoes. She had a tendency to move at her own pace, a pace that was agonizingly slower than mine.

As I waited for her, she paused and looked at me accusingly.

“What?” I asked. “I’m being patient.”

“You’re not being patient.” She replied. “You’re acting patient.”

Wow. Nailed to the wall by a six-year-old.

But that is often the topic of conversation in my prayers as well. “Lord, did you notice me being loving today?”

“Well, Lori, I noticed you acting loving. Would you like me to work on your heart so you have the hope of one day being loving?”

God doesn’t want to be the Lord of your surface life. He doesn’t want to skim across the outer layer of your world.

He is a God who permeates, penetrates, infiltrates, percolates, and saturates. He wants you to steep in His love and grace. He wants to infuse you with new life. He wants to invade every aspect of your being and infiltrate your fraud, transfusing it with the lifeblood of truth.

When the believers in Corinth were revealing their immaturity through their pseudo maturity, Paul called them on it in 1 Corinthians 3:4-9

“For when one says, “I follow Paul,” and another, “I follow Apollos,” are you not mere human beings? What, after all, is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe—as the Lord has assigned to each his task.

I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow.

So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.

The one who plants and the one who waters have one purpose, and they will each be rewarded according to their own labor. For we are co-workers in God’s service; you are God’s field, God’s building.”

We need to be honest about our own level of growth. Just as we teach children to imitate their elders as a first step toward maturity, so we should “act” loving as a first step toward “being” loving but we need not to stop there and call it maturity.

God has provided a way for us to be transformed and to grow up to actually BE like Him. That way is Jesus Christ.

When we come to Him in prayer, we need to only be as mature as we are so that He can work the work of growth in our spirits and grow us up.

It is also good for us to encourage growth in others, to nurture it, to support it, and to model it but we must remember that God is the only One who understands the true mystery of growth. If we try to force growth in another believer, we risk uprooting them or breaking them off at a fragile place.

My daughter’s challenge to me years ago sent me to my knees asking God to help me be more than someone who “acts” like Him. I want to actually “be” like Him.

I’ve learned that is not a rapid, greenhouse process but one that takes time and requires some amount of discomfort as He prunes my branches, transplants me to other pots on occasion, and exposes me to the right environments for growth.

Are you growing up in Christ? Do you encourage growth in others? Or are you like twangy, toxic country music making those exposed to you want to shrivel up and wither away?

Good questions to ask God today. I think I will.

Climbing Out of the Family Tree

2011-10-21T14:34:00.000-04:00

Have you ever been frustrated to see an irritating trait from one of your parents make an appearance in your own character?

Have you been startled when one of your own weaknesses rears its ugly head in your child?

Not me. Nope. Never happened.

Okay.

Maybe it has.

Last night I caught an episode of Gene Simmon’s reality show (Gene is the lead singer of the band KISS).

It was a fascinating episode for many reasons. Gene and his girlfriend of twenty-eight years are the poster children for a hedonistic lifestyle. She was a Playboy centerfold. He made a fortune on rock and roll (and denied himself no pleasure along the way – although he reportedly does not drink.)

The couple has two grown children and now, they are both feeling some emptiness in connection with their lifestyle. They have looks, money, health, family, fame, and status but still

she’s always wanted him to marry her

he’s confessed to having cheated on her repeatedly and lying to her to cover it

their children are deeply affected by his infidelities and deception.

In an attempt to repair their relationship before their wedding, they attended a marriage boot camp.

While I don’t think the camp was run by Christians, their healing came down to some pretty Biblical concepts: confession and forgiveness.

Admit the truth. Face the truth. Forgive so you can move on.

At one point, Gene Simmons, womanizer, mighty rock star, man of great wealth and achievement weeps to realize that while he set out to be different from his father, he is, in fact, just like him.

We’ve all been there (if we haven’t, we’re deluded).

Since the Garden of Eden, each human child has had the task, whether conscious or subconscious, to be better than her parents.

And at some point, we all have to face a moment like Gene, when we admit that on our own efforts, we haven’t succeeded. We come face to face with the forbidden tree and we make the same choice as our grandmother Eve.

We may have chosen a different flavor of the fruit. We may have taken longer to snatch it or ate it with a different method but at some point, we all took a bite.

Oh.

No one voiced the despair of that moment of realization better than Elijah in I Kings 19: 3-5

“Elijah was afraid and ran for his life. When he came to Beersheba in Judah, he left his servant there, while he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness. He came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. “I have had enough, LORD,” he said. “Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.” Then he lay down under the bush and fell asleep. All at once, an angel touched him and said, “Get up and eat.”

Elijah, amazing man of God, looks in the mirror and sees the people who came before him, the people he knew he would be better than and knows feels, deeply, his need for a Savior.

Recognizing that is the first step.

The second step is to find the answer provided by God through Jesus.

He is the only way back to the Garden. He is the only antidote to the poison in our DNA, the virus we inherited from Adam and Eve, the defective gene.

Jesus is the cure.

I don’t know what the immediate future holds for the newly married Gene and Shannon Simmons. Confession and forgiveness are powerful actions but even those steps, taken without the power of Christ, will not solve the fact that we resemble the ancestors who blew it. And they had the most perfect setup in the universe.

See your parents mistakes repeated in your own life? Don’t spend time in blame. Forgive them. Confess your own sin. Receive forgiveness and move forward with Jesus.

See your children making the very mistakes you made? Confess your sin before God. Receive forgiveness. Move forward in Christ.

And pray for your child to live a life devoted to Christ because as wonderful as you may have been – YOU CAN’T SAVE YOUR OWN CHILDREN. They still need Jesus because they inherited your spiritual DNA and you can’t parent that out of them.

When you feel despair at your own failings, don’t yield to the temptation to lie down and die. All it means is that you belong to the family of man.

The answer, is to move forward as a child born into the family of God.

Yes, we can have a duel inheritance and one will rise up and overcome the other.

Here’s a hint – Jesus wins.

How I Was Almost Arrested at Walmart!

2011-10-17T22:15:00.000-04:00

Do you ever wrestle with false guilt?

What most people these days would refer to as “a guilt trip?” You know, when you can’t stop making yourself feel awful about something that seems silly to feel awful about?

I’ve done that.

Money’s always been tight for us but I’ve gone on an occasional splurge.

One Christmas, my mother gave me a little cash in a card. My kids were young and I had begun to feel boring. I decided it was time to refresh my support garments, if you know what I mean. Liven things up from plain white to something with a little zing.

Conscious of my budget, I took my shopping spree to Walmart where I found, what I felt, were more adventurous under things. Nothing crazy by anyone’s standards but still, I pushed my personal limits with a few stripes and more vibrant colors than usual.

Everything went swimmingly until I was at the register. When I handed the money (you know, still crisp from the card from my mother) to the cashier, she swiped it with her little yellow marker then suddenly tripped her aisle light so it was flashing. Nervously, she asked me if I would kindly step to the end of the counter.

Two managers appeared at her side, everyone holding up and passing around one of my fifty-dollar bills. It was a Sunday afternoon and there were several registers all full with lines of customers now being treated to an episode of Cops starring me! The managers were holding the bill up to the light and everyone seemed to be concluding that this was funny money.

I completed my purchase with another bill that apparently passed muster but was asked to step aside and wait, in front of the live studio audience, for the arrival of the security guard and then the police. The security guard informed me that I was in possession of a counterfeit bill and asked me where I had obtained it.

Who would rat out their own mother?

Me, apparently. I would definitely not hold up under torture because I sang like a canary without a second thought. If mom had been guilty of anything, I’d have been the prosecution’s star witness. I’m not good under pressure!

Worse than all the suspicion and scrutiny was the fact that when the police officers arrived, they asked to inspect my purchase! Dying of embarrassment, I handed over my crinkly bag full of wild underpants and bras that I was certain now would become Exhibit A at my arraignment.

I’ve never felt so guilty in my life and yet, as the Secret Service would inform me several days later, I was not guilty of anything at all (well, mom might say otherwise) but nothing illegal anyway. The bill was, in fact, NOT counterfeit. Those marker pens can be tripped by many things and everyone from the cashier to the police were simply overzealous in their conclusions.

It was a long time, though, before I shopped again for undies. And I still break into a sweat handing over any cash at Walmart.

False guilt is a funny thing. It attaches to the strangest notions and it’s hard to shake. Even though I knew it was silly, I couldn’t help but feel that somehow, I was being punished for livening up my lingerie.

Real guilt and conviction by the Holy Spirit is much cleaner and more surgical than that.

Remember on old TV comedies whenever some woman got hysterical and started screaming and crying, how another character would reach across and slap her hard so that she was immediately calm? That’s a picture of how the Holy Spirit calls you out on actual guilt.

It happened to me recently. I’d been feeling agitated and anxious for days when suddenly, during my time of Bible reading, I read a verse about greed and SMACK, the Holy Spirit slapped my cheek and I could see that I was guilty of allowing greed to grab hold of me.

That was at the root of my anxiety so I took a moment to acknowledge what I understood, to agree with God that, yes, I was, in fact, full of greed for something. I asked for forgiveness and the moment was over, the anxiety passed like a fit of hysteria.

Here, conviction of guilt was like a relief. It was like having a blind spot but suddenly being able to see clearly. Yes! That’s what’s going on! This is why I feel wrong. I AM wrong.

Acknowledge the guilt. Confess it. Ask forgiveness. Receive it. Move on. Whew.

I wrote that verse down and dated it. I read it all week long as a reminder of where I was and to prevent me from turning back.

True conviction by the Holy Spirit is freeing.

Not like false guilt. False guilt has a weird way of clinging, of paralyzing, of causing neuroses. I still don’t enjoy shopping for underwear and I take all cash gifts from my mother IMMEDIATELY to the bank for screening (not really but that’s my first impulse).

Jesus told the Jews who believed in Him, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” John 8:31b-32

Facing the truth of our guilt and receiving right correction and forgiveness is not a guilt trip, it’s a key turning in the lock of the prison built by our sinful choices.

The false guilt we conjure up from a toxic brew of societal pressures, family culture, and personal hang-ups is damaging, crippling, and hard to escape. If you’re wrestling with THAT, it’s probably not God.

Have you ever suffered under a fog of false guilt? Have you ever experienced the clean freedom of right conviction on actual guilt? Have you ever bought polka dotted underwear at Walmart?

Okay, don’t answer that, but I’d love to hear your experiences with the first two questions!

True Trails of Terror

2011-10-14T09:52:00.002-04:00

This is the month where people will celebrate fear, court it, invite it, revel in it even.

Most of them are simply trying to vaccinate themselves against fear.

By injecting themselves with a weakened form of it, they hope that when actually frightening things happen, they will not experience a debilitating level of fear.

I don’t think it works that way, though.

Even the most hardened Halloween revelers have sometimes crossed a line and found themselves in an actual fear-inducing situation where drama and laughter turn to ice water in the veins and silent screams.

That’s because there’s a big difference between fears we imagine and fears that are a result of actual threats.

I am afraid of a lot of stupid things. I’m sure I’ve detailed them before in other posts.

Suffice it to say, I grew up in a time when parents figured kids were just born with a lot of baggage and, pretty much, that was who they were. So if a kid was born afraid of big dogs, little dogs, water, dark cellars, and roller coasters, well, what could you do about it? Some kids are just “a little off.”

Occasionally, my mom would have to go out for an evening meeting at church or the parent/teachers association and leave my dad home in charge. My bedroom was on the second floor and I was not an easy sleeper.

I’d hear dad watching TV in the living room below and I would wish I were downstairs with him in the light, watching whatever show was making him laugh so hard.

“Dad?” I’d call down the stairs. “Dad, can I come down there?”

“Why? What do you need?” He’d yell, then he’d laugh at something else I’d missed.

“It’s dark up here. I’m scared.”

“I’m the one you ought to be afraid of if you don’t get back into bed and go to sleep!” He’d answer without hesitation.

I think about his answer a lot. We won’t evaluate it in terms of parenting styles but I have to say, it sounded a lot like Jesus in Luke 12: 4-9

“I tell you, my friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body and after that can do no more. But I will show you whom you should fear: Fear him who, after your body has been killed, has authority to throw you into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him.

Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. “I tell you, whoever publicly acknowledges me before others, the Son of Man will also acknowledge before the angels of God. But whoever disowns me before others will be disowned before the angels of God.”

I think of my dad and of these words from Jesus when I’m tempted to be afraid of other people’s opinions or of losing my job because I can’t quite compromise my faith enough to fit in or of not living up to the world’s status quo.

Sometimes, when I’m expressing these fears to God, I can almost hear Him say, “Afraid? I’m the One you should be afraid of if you don’t walk back in there and represent the way I’ve raised you!”

I don’t fear punishment from God. Jesus took all my punishment when He died for me on the cross. (I didn’t really fear punishment from my dad either since I knew he’d be too tired to actually get up and come up the stairs and he never hit me or anything.)

And I no longer fear hell because I belong to Jesus Christ.

But the words remind me that my conjured fears of the disapproval of others, financial loss, or low status in life are like Halloween revelers walking through locally devised trails of terror. They evoke fear but there’s no real basis for it. It’s all based on strobe lights, dry ice, and ketchup.

The real fear is not living up to the way I’ve been raised in Christ or not speaking up when someone else is open to understanding who Jesus is or missing the adventure God wants to take me on or the training He’s devised to deepen my faith.

That is a fear of an actual threat that motivates me to do hard things and to overcome the fear of artificial threats barring my way to face the real ones.

It takes little true courage to walk a corn maze in the dark or to follow a line of teen-agers through a haunted house of horrors. Teaching those teens about Jesus? Talking to a coworker about your faith? Leaving a secure job with a pension to pursue a mission or ministry – that takes courage.

Just as little children fear monsters under the bed but don’t fear running into a busy street, we need instruction to distinguish imagined threats from real ones.

God offers that instruction freely in His word. We should avail ourselves of it at every opportunity so we are less tempted to jump at the sight of goblins and more willing to jump at opportunities to speak the truth of Christ.

There are real trails of terror ahead. Jesus is the only competent guide through them all. Are you ready?

When There's Goat's Blood on Your Coat, It's Not the End of Your Dreams

2011-10-11T21:52:00.000-04:00

Have you ever had a dream you thought was from God?

Have you ever struggled to hold onto that dream?

Yeah, me, too.

But we’re not alone.

Christians come from a long, long line of dreamers.

Our most famous dreamer was Joseph. He had dreams that he shared, innocently enough, with the people closest to him – his older brothers.

They were not fans.

The Bible explains what happened next . . .

“So Joseph went after his brothers and found them near Dothan. But they saw him in the distance, and before he reached them, they plotted to kill him.

“Here comes that dreamer!” they said to each other. “Come now, let’s kill him and throw him into one of these cisterns and say that a ferocious animal devoured him. Then we’ll see what comes of his dreams.” Genesis 37: 17-20

I’ve had days like that.

Sometimes it feels as though the world is full of jealous older brothers lying in wait and passing caravans of greedy slave traders eager to trade my dreams for a few gold coins.

Even when dreams are from God, they can be hard to hold onto.

Through the betrayals of people we think of as family, through long journeys we’re sure must be some kind of mistake.

Through years of service and drudgery that hold no bright promise for great futures. Through false accusations, injustices, and deep, dark prisons that seem like dead ends, places we’ve been sent to be forgotten – maybe even by God.

In this world, most dreamers take quite a beating.

But dreams from God are amazingly resilient. And His dreamers hold on when others would let go.

“So Pharaoh sent for Joseph, and he was quickly brought from the dungeon. When he had shaved and changed his clothes, he came before Pharaoh. Pharaoh said to Joseph, “I had a dream, and no one can interpret it. But I have heard it said of you that when you hear a dream you can interpret it.” Genesis 41:14-15

There comes a day when dreamers are in demand.

Those days are few and far between but when they come, dreamers are hauled up from the dungeons into which they’ve been locked, sent away for the crime, the audacity of believing in dreams, in believing God would send dreams to them.

Blinking at the sunlight, they stumble forward trying to remember how to walk and talk like normal people. Pressed suddenly into service, they are barely conscious that this is, in fact, the moment for which they’ve been designed.

This is what a dream looks like when it comes true.

Bewildering. Startling.

Like a rainbow after a long, long rain.

Like a Technicolor dreamcoat covered with goat’s blood that has been wept over and treasured for long years of grieving.

Like a prophet vomited onto dry land by a big fish with a sudden flu.

Like a younger brother back from the dead with a message of God’s amazing love of taking the long, long way to the happy ending.

Are you one of God’s dreamers?

Are the dreams taking a long time to come along?

Hold on, dreamer. Our God is a storyteller and every good story has a moment when it seems that all is lost . . .

But it never is.

“These are the words of him who is holy and true, who holds the key of David. What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open. I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name.” Revelation 3: 7b-8

How to Tell If You Are Among the Walking Dead

2011-10-08T11:57:00.000-04:00

October is here. It’s the month in which people claim that the dead walk among us.

I have no quarrel with that pronouncement for I have seen them.

I have worshipped beside the dead.

That’s why I find no humor in movies like “Weekend at Bernie’s” because, in reality, it’s not funny at all to have to drag a corpse around with you and pretend that it’s alive.

Just ask the modern church.

Sounds harsh, right? Judgmental? Yeah, it’s a tricky thing to say that some people showing up at church on Sunday are still dead in their sins, not alive to Christ at all,

but it’s the truth.

It’s not our job to judge others nor to sort out who is dead in our particular congregation

But it IS our job to be sure that WE are not one of the worshipping dead.

The Pharisees of Jesus’ day thought they had it all together. These were religiously confident men.

But most of this group who spent their time studying the scriptures, the very scriptures that described the coming Messiah, missed the Messiah when He was standing right in front of them!

How could that happen? How could you know all the prophecies about the One you’re waiting to see and then miss Him when He actually arrives?

Probably, at some point, the exercise of studying became just that, an exercise, an end to itself.

Somewhere inside, many of these men had stopped believing that the Messiah would ever come, so they spiritualized everything they read into a metaphor or a rule for living and stopped anticipating the actual fulfillment of God’s plan.

Maybe they were tired of waiting.

Maybe they were afraid of looking stupid for holding on to hope for so long.

Maybe the ones who did keep believing were told to “grow up” and stop hoping for an actual living fulfillment of God’s word.

Maybe they were looked down upon by those who had “evolved” to the more “enlightened thinking” of simply viewing the prophecies as “good moral teaching for life”.

That is a lot of pressure. The Pharisees were a sophisticated, informed, educated, well-behaved bunch. If they stopped hoping for Jesus to really come, how hard would it be to be a quiet holdout?

But Jesus had no problem being alive right in front of their deadness.

He told them “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.” Matthew 23:27-28

Yeah, they had become the walking dead without realizing it.

There is an indication that a few Pharisees made it out alive. They came to Jesus in the night to confirm their hopes. They stepped out of their tombs and breathed the reviving spirit of the Son of God.

The others remained the living dead.

So, since we aren’t supposed to judge each other (and we’re really NOT), how do we know ourselves if we are alive to Christ.

Here’s the test – like vampires who have no reflection in the mirror – those who are dead to Christ do not see their reflection in scripture.

When we are alive in Christ, we read God’s word and see a thousand ways it applies to us.

When He talks about sin, we see the sin in our own lives. When it says that Jesus is our one hope for salvation, we know we need to be saved and cry out to Him as our only hope.

When it says we must receive Him, we do, and we continue to study God’s word that then seems alive with messages for us every day that must be acted upon, lived out, and believed.

When we are dead to Christ, we read God’s word and don’t see anything there that is a reflection on us.

It talks about sin but we don’t do anything really wrong. It says we need Jesus to save us but we’re not really in trouble so, we’re fine.

We see stuff that we should tell other people is wrong with them. We see interesting stories along with some quaint characters and engaging literature to be analyzed and dissected but we don’t see ourselves.

We don’t see ourselves because the dead do not see their reflection in the mirror of God’s word.

How’s that for a scary thought?

Let me be the one to warn you. If you don’t see your own reflection in the word of God, you’re in for scarier things than the walking dead, vampires, or Halloween

There is hope.

If you look into God’s word and don’t see your reflection but want to be free from your state of living death, ask Him.

Even if you’re not sure He’s listening (He is), ask God to show you yourself in His word. Tell Him you want to see Him and you want to see yourself as you truly are.

Then, open the Bible again and read (try the book of John).

Why walk through life like a zombie? Why live on the blood of others? You don’t have to be dead.

One infusion with the blood of Jesus and you will come alive in ways you didn’t know were possible.

Without it, no matter where you sit – on a barstool or in a pew – you are dead and there’s nothing funny about that.

One Obituary, One CD, One Shipping Confirmation - The Size of Grace

2011-10-05T10:48:00.000-04:00

Do you ever despair that your life is so small?

Do you ever wonder how your tiny contribution to the world stacks up against the titanic projects and ministries of others?

When you hear a sermon or read a book about someone who has launched a mission or reached thousands, do you look around at the children in your home waiting to be fed, taught, and disciplined

or the loved one awaiting your caretaking

or the office where you work to keep up your medical coverage,

or the bed to which you are currently confined

and feel as though your tiny contribution to the world could easily have been skipped and the kingdom of God would be just as grand?

As I sit in the kitchen of my unremarkable house in a town with a population of 2000 in the smallest state in the union, I must confess, I can relate.

(Hope Valley isn’t even technically a town. It’s a village that measures 3.5 sq miles. Okay, and my house isn’t technically unremarkable. People make remarks about it all the time like “Do people actually live in that place?” or “Wow, I thought they were tearing that down.” But I digress.)

It’s human nature (mostly sin nature, I believe) to compare. It’s not all bad to reflect on our lives. When we do, sometimes we realize there’s an opportunity before us to take a risk and to grow. Big isn’t bad but it isn’t all that matters. Since we’re not to be the final judges of our work, comparison can be dangerous if we only use a single criteria like size.

In my daughter’s college writing course, the professor is rightly encouraging students to focus on content, not grammar or spelling, for their first draft. She finally had to resort to penalizing students for making grammar and spelling corrections when reviewing their first drafts. When students protested, she insisted that since she was teaching and grading, she was probably the best judge on where they should place their efforts.

We don’t learn that lesson easily.

God has made me aware lately of how small things add up – like pennies spent and calories eaten – every little bit accumulates to create a bigger picture.

Recently, I watched someone make an agreement at work and break it moments later – without regret. It was a small thing but it drained some of the color out of my world that day. In another moment, I caught someone in a lie. It was a small lie, but again, the vibrant color of my day felt faded and washed out. Then, someone’s careless, inconsiderate choice to leave a mess for me that they should have cleaned, pushed me closer to feeling like life is gray and without radiant hue.

But then, I read the obituary of an older gentleman who used to frequent the workout room at my Y. Seeing his face on the page brought back a flood of happy thoughts as I recalled stories, jokes, and proverbs he used to share. All I knew of him were our little exchanges but they’re a warm, bright spot in my heart and the light of these touches of grace infuses my day with renewed color.

Yesterday, my son received a CD from a musician friend. My son has been struggling a bit but as he read the CD notes, he saw that one of the songs had been inspired by him. The songwriter mentioned him in the notes for the time Zack spent rebuilding in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. It was a small touch of grace that to him (and to me) felt like a lifesaver the a wide ocean of “twenty-something” stormy seas.

Then, I received a shipping confirmation email for a small order I’d placed yesterday online. But it was no simple confirmation. Someone actually designed the receipt to tell a little story about how special my order was treated, how everyone who handled it thought about me, and how they were thankful and celebratory when they walked the order to the post office and sent it on its way.

It was silly but in a small way, it added High Definition to my morning. Someone saw a simple shipping confirmation as an opportunity to spread joy, laughter, and random kindness into the world.

These small touches of grace add up quickly in a graceless world.

When I was a stay-at-home mom, with a traveling husband, I sometimes despaired of participating in the world in a larger way. I knew my ministry with my family was worthwhile but I wondered if I was missing other opportunities.

Knowing God had called me to be right where I was, I asked Him to open my eyes to the ministry that was in my path. Suddenly, I was flooded with understanding about the countless moments I had to impart a simple touch of grace on grocery store clerks, bank tellers, video store attendants, and other moms. Apparently, the only small thing in my world had been my perspective.

(As I write that line, I realize that today, many of us can operate without encountering either a grocery store clerk (automatic checkout), a bank teller (ATM), or a video store attendant (Netflix)! Wow, how technology has changed our opportunities for interaction! But I believe God still knows where the opportunities are and will show them to anyone who asks in faith!)

I tell my weight loss students that all-or-nothing thinking is risky-business. It’s better to cultivate a mind-set that every little bit adds up (as in calories eaten and calories burned).

The same is true for the ministry of imparting grace into a graceless world. Every moment you have to breathe the breath of Jesus into a situation, an exchange, a moment adds up to form a greater picture that will, eventually, be judged by the One who knows the true measure of all things.

Link to American Merman, CD by Grant Maloy Smith containing a song inspired by Joe and CC Crowley for their work in Haiti and Zack Roeleveld for his work in Mississippi in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. http://www.grant-maloy-smith.com/music/americanmerman/