Figuring Out My Faith

2010-07-26T01:43:00.002-04:00

A good opening line is vital for writers. If the first line doesn't grab you, chances are you probably won't read much further. A bad opening line is death for a novelist – but a great source of amusement for the rest of the world. Believe it or not, there is a contest for the worst of the worst: the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. A few of my favorites from this year's contest:

Through the verdant plains of North Umbria walked Waylon Ogglethorpe and, as he walked, the clouds whispered his name, the birds of the air sang his praises, and the beasts of the fields from smallest to greatest said, "There goes the most noble among men" -- in other words, a typical stroll for a schizophrenic ventriloquist with delusions of grandeur.
Tom Wallace, Columbia, SC

She walked into my office wearing a body that would make a man write bad checks, but in this paperless age you would first have to obtain her ABA Routing Transit Number and Account Number and then disable your own Overdraft Protection in order to do so.
Steve Lynch, San Marcos, CA

As Holmes, who had a nose for danger, quietly fingered the bloody knife and eyed the various body parts strewn along the dark, deserted highway, he placed his ear to the ground and, with his heart in his throat, silently mouthed to his companion, “Arm yourself, Watson, there is an evil hand afoot ahead.
Dennis Pearce, Lexington, KY

Not exactly Dickens or Grisham, is it? Opening lines are vital.

So are closing lines.

Think of the movie Casablanca. “Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Can you imagine if the last line had been, “You're an OK guy, Louis.” No one would have quoted that 60 years after the fact.

Or take Gone With The Wind. “Tara! Home. I'll go home. And I'll think of some way to get him back. After all... tomorrow is another day.” A classic closing line.

Jesus' ministry began with a great opening line – straight from the Father Himself. "This is my Son, chosen and marked by my love, delight of my life." (Matthew 3:17, MSG) Quite the ringing endorsement from the Creator of the universe.

Amazingly enough, He wants to speak these words to each of us, as well. Think about it: All through scripture, we are called children of God (Matthew 18:1-5, Ephesians 5:1, I Peter 1:15). And the love of God for His kids is well documented (Romans 5:8, Psalm 59:17). Knowing this, is it really that much of a stretch to hear the words He spoke of Jesus spoken of us as well?

Here's the cool part: The last words that God speaks audibly to Jesus? The very same words. "This is my Son, marked by my love, focus of my delight. Listen to him." (Matthew 17:5, MSG) Peter, as an eye (ear?) witness, verifies this later (II Peter 1:15-17). Not a bad couple of lines to bookend an amazing period in a man's life. And, again, He longs to say these words to us. At the end of our earthly lives, the Father wants desperately to look into our eyes and say to each one of us, “Well done, good and faithful servant!” (Matthew 25:23)

I wish I had a great closing line to end this, but I can't outdo the Man Upstairs. Live your life in this Truth:
“You are My child, marked by My love, focus of My delight.”

The Rules . . .

2010-05-25T23:42:00.004-04:00

I just watched the NCIS season finale. This is easily one of my favorite shows. Great stories, good mystery with liberal doses of comedy thrown in . . . just great stuff. The finale tonight dealt a lot with Gibbs’ rules. This list numbers into the 50’s now, and it’s basically Gibbs’ code of conduct; how he approaches life, what he’s learned through experience, etc. Simply put, if you know the rules, you know the man.

Gibbs’ rules are interesting. They range from the practical (#2 – Always wear gloves at a crime scene) to the borderline paranoid (#40 – If it seems someone is out to get you, they are), from instructional (#7 – Always be specific when you lie) to what can only be learned the hard way (#12 – Never date a coworker). A new, almost philosophical rule was added tonight: #51 – Sometimes, you’re wrong.

So, all this talk of rules of conduct got me to thinking; what rules do I live by? What is my code of conduct? The easy. Sunday-school answer is “well, the Bible, of course!” The problem with that is twofold: 1) the Bible is 66 books of direction on how to live. Very few people that I know of have memorized the entire thing and can recall specific verses on a moment’s notice. 2) No one can possibly live up to everything in the Bible every day. (Romans 3:23 – For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of His glorious standard.) In light of this, I’ve decided to compile my own list of rules. I’m sure this will take some time to bring together, but I already know rule #1: It’s always about people.

C. S. Lewis said, “You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body.” And, elsewhere, “There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.” We are all eternal beings in temporary homes. Our bodies will wither and die (I know, pleasant thought, isn’t it?), but our souls will go on for eternity. It’s our souls that make us who we are. Our bodies only contain us. So, doesn’t it make sense to invest in something eternal over something temporary? Possessions will break and become obsolete when the “next big thing” comes along. Bones break, bodies get sick, and eventually go back to the dust from whence they came. But the spirit, the soul . . . these will exist from this realm into the next.

This is why my 1^st inviolable rule is what it is. It always has to be about people, because Jesus was always about people. Just read through the New Testament. Everything he said and did was an investment in the lives of people so that they could spend eternity with Him. Jesus knew that this earthly life is not the beginning and end of it all. This is just a blip on the radar in the grand scheme of things. I want to be about what Jesus was about, and that boils down to one word: people.

How about you? If you were to compile a personal list of rules, what’s #1?

The truth must come out . . .

2010-05-20T00:12:00.003-04:00

So, I guess it’s time for me to come out of the geek closet (as if there were any question of my geekiness up until now) . . . I like the music of “Weird Al” Yankovic. There, I said it. I feel cleansed now.

In all seriousness, there’s a certain art to what Weird Al does. I mean, who else do you know that has made a very successful career out of parodying the music of other artists? He’s so successful, in fact, that most singers/musicians consider it a barometer of their success when Weird Al does one of their songs.

And when he decides to parody a video . . . well, he doesn’t mess around. He makes it look as close to the original as possible while throwing in his own unique touches. This classic, for example. It’s brilliant, really. So, yes . . . I’m a fan.

That being said, the art of the parody should probably remain in the realm of music. I’ve sadly noticed that parodies have started to sneak into areas of life where it really doesn’t belong . . . like our spiritual lives.

Much like Weird Al taking a song and making it look and sound as much like the original as possible, ultimately, it becomes a big joke. And I’ve seen too many people try to make their lives look and sound like what they think God wants it to be . . . and it’s a joke. A sad, pitiful joke. As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve been one of those people, too.

For so many years, I labored under the delusion that if I said the right words, if I did the right things, then my life would be . . . well, right. After all, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck . . .

Well, I was sadly mistaken. I see that now. I was putting on a show so that others would think well of me and so that God would like me, which is completely counter to what Jesus actually taught. “Be especially careful when you are trying to be good so that you don’t make a performance out f it. It might be good theater, but the God who made you won’t be applauding. When you do something for someone else, don’t call attention to yourself. You’ve seen them in action, I’m sure – ‘playactors’ I call them – treating prayer meeting and street corner alike as a stage, acting compassionate as long as someone is watching, playing to the crowds. They get applause, true, but that’s al they get. When you help someone, don’t think about how it looks. Just do it – quietly and unobtrusively. That is the way your God, who conceived you in love, working behind the scenes, helps you out.” (Matthew 6:1-4, Message)

In other words, don’t be a parody of the life Jesus has actually called you to. If you try to approximate the life He’s called you to, but with your own tweaks added in . . . then the joke is on you.

All I want for Christmas . . .

2009-11-28T00:39:00.001-05:00

It’s now officially the Christmas season. People are now rushing around, trying to get the best deals on gifts for friends and loved ones. Gadgets and toys, all priced to move, the perfect way to show people just how much you love them.

Pardon the above sarcasm, but the older I grow, the less I understand the correlation between stuff and affection. Is the trading of items the best way we know of showing each other that we care? I refuse to believe that. That’s not the example of love that has been set before us.

Sacrifice is the level of love to which we are called. There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. “There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13) This is the example we’ve been given to follow. This is how Jesus showed His love for us, by giving His life in exchange for ours, so that we could know the Father, so that we, as broken, flawed people, could be seen as flawless by God, and rescued from the Hell that would await us otherwise.

Every year, my parents ask me what I want for Christmas, and every year I struggle with what to ask for. I insist that I really don’t want or need anything, and they press until I name something. I’m not complaining, mind you. It’s just that, while in the past I’d have had no trouble listing off a litany of things that would make my life “easier,” or “better,” now I find that all I want is to see my folks and spend some time with them, to live more fully in the life that Jesus has set before me, to live out the plans He has laid out for me, and . . . well, you get the idea. These are things that can’t be found in any store. They’re matters of the heart, and there is no price tag that can be placed on them. Make no mistake, “stuff” may help the economy right now, but the most important commodity our world has is the human heart and the condition of the soul. “There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.” (C. S. Lewis, “The Weight Of Glory”)

So, along with the physical gifts that tradition demands we buy, let your heart be known as well. I am blessed to have people in my life who are very good at this, and I strive to be better at it. My prayer is that this Christmas is less about the material, and far more about the eternal.

Merry Christmas, my friends. May God bless you far beyond anything you could imagine.

The Uprising . . . it's time!

2009-11-12T15:19:00.002-05:00

At what point did we begin to value comfort over obedience? Safety over passion? Rationale over Truth? In an era of political correctness, how did we usher in a sort of spiritual correctness as well? I find myself offended at the effort to be less offensive.

Those of us here in America are fortunate to enjoy the freedoms we have, especially on the area of faith. Sure, as followers of Christ, we tend to be ridiculed a bit, but if that’s the worst of it, we can handle it. As long as we’re not making waves, not upsetting the status quo, then we’re pretty much left to worship in whatever manner we choose . . . just don’t disturb anyone else.

I have lived a great deal of my life in this mode. I kept to myself, did my little church gig, and I was safe. I was comfortable. And I was bored out of my mind. I knew there was something more out there, but I wasn’t willing to leave my realm of safety to find it.

As I look more and more closely at the life of Jesus, he wasn’t just this kind, sweet, sensitive guy that spouted wisdom and went on his way. He was confrontational. He was passionate. He railed against injustice. He spoke Truth that people needed to hear rather than give people the sunshine and roses they thought they wanted to hear. He taught his disciples to do the same. And he calls us to do the same.

So what happened? How did we get from there to here? We’ve traded the call of Christ for a safe, comfortable, insignificant life. We’ve forgotten that the Truth is dangerous and revolutionary. We’ve forgotten that Jesus wasn’t always sweet and nice. Jesus provoked radical thought, stirred hearts, and attracted trouble to himself and those that called him friend and Master. So why have we allowed our minds and hearts to grow numb in these days?

It’s time to reignite the revolution! It’s time for the Uprising to begin anew! If you feel, like I do, that we’ve grown too safe, too tame in our faith and our relationship with Christ, then step up, if you dare! Let your one and only life on this globe count for more than looking out for yourself! The gauntlet has been thrown, and it’s your call: do you pick it up and accept the challenge, or will you just let it fall by the wayside, left unanswered? Check out www.theuprising.net if you want to make a difference in this world and impact eternity . . .

Remebrance

2009-09-13T00:00:00.005-04:00

Tonight was kind of a hard night at church. My pastor talked about “What Happens 30 Seconds After You Die.” It was not easy territory. He spoke of when his mother died while he was in his mid 20’s, and it reminded me of when my Mom passed away almost 10 years ago.

In October of ‘08, Mom was diagnosed with brain cancer. Just 3 days shy of 1 year later, on October 19th, 2009, she went home to see Jesus face to face. There’s a part of me that wouldn’t take her away from Paradise for all the money in the world, but there’s the other (admittedly selfish) part of me that would give everything to have her back, even for a day.

I guess there are just some questions to which I’d love to have the answer. With all the changes wrought in my life, especially over the last few years, what would she say about how my life has turned out thus far? How would she feel? Would she be proud, disappointed? Would her opinion be any different now having experienced Heaven first hand?

I know I’ll never have these answers this side of Heaven. And I’m not dwelling on the answers as if my life and my self-esteem hinges upon them. I know in my mind and my heart that those things should only come from God, but, being human, that slips from my conscious mind more often than I would prefer.

It occurs to me that Mom loved yellow roses, and, a few years before she was diagnosed, she had planted some rose bushes outside the house. After Mom died, winter came, and with snow on the ground, the yellow rose bush bloomed. Unlikely as it was, it seemed to me as if Mom was letting me know that she made it home OK, and that she’d always be around.

Jesus, if you see Mom up there . . . tell her I love her and I miss her.

Deputized . . .

2009-08-29T16:03:00.000-04:00

The flames climbed ever upward. The smoke filled the room as well as my lungs. I may have been on my last gasp when I was pulled from beneath a rafter plummeting toward my head. Suddenly I was wrapped in a tangle of arms and rubber, being dragged into fresh air. I was handed off to the Fire Chief, who wrapped me in a blanket and patted any remaining flames out.

As I was recovering, coughing the last of the smoke and soot from my respiratory system, the Chief came over. “You OK, son?” I nodded, barely able to speak from the trauma and the sheer gratitude for having been rescued. “Good. EMT’s say you’re gonna be just fine. That bein’ the case, I have a favor to ask.” I looked up, a puzzled look on my face. “ See, we’re understaffed, and we need some help. There’re more people in that building, and now that you know the way out, I’d like you to go back in and lead more people to safety before the whole thing collapses.”

My eyes widened. I just got out of there! Why would I want to rush back into the heart of danger? But then I thought about how these guys risk their lives every day for people they don’t know, and they just did the same for me. How could I refuse? So, I donned the extra gear they had on site, and I waded back into the heat.

It didn’t take long before I found another person in mortal danger. I started yelling at him to get up, get out, the way out was right over there! The guy looks up at me, looks back at the book he’s reading, and says, “Yeah, sure, just let me finish this chapter.” Then he goes back to reading! I couldn’t believe it! It was like he was completely oblivious to the destruction and danger raging all around him. No matter how I pushed or pulled, he wouldn’t budge. Exasperated and reluctant, I moved on.

Not much further was another guy, a kid, really. So engrossed in his video game, he seemed not to know what was raging all around him. I yelled at him, No response. I pushed him. Still no response. I stood between him and the TV. He just craned his neck to see around me.

I started to cry. How could these people be so unaware of the flames, the heat, the absolute raging destruction all around them?! It just didn’t make any sense.

Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? People surrounded by death and destruction not wanting to be rescued, to find the way out? Yet it happens all the time, every day. Maybe the danger isn’t as visible as a raging fire, or the destruction as obvious as rafters falling from above, but it’s just as real. People have embraced what was once thought of as sin in the name of tolerance. Because no one wants to rock the boat, porn has gone mainstream, premarital sex is an expectation rather than the exception . . . and the list could go on and on.

As a follower of Christ, I’m called to sound the alarm, to let people know, not so much that they’re descending into the pit, but that they’ve grown oblivious to the danger that surrounds them and to show them the way to safety. As my pastor has said, “Heaven and Hell are real places, and each one of us will spend eternity in one of them.” Most people either don’t know or don’t care. In Ezekiel, God is pretty clear about their fate: “Then if those who hear the alarm refuse to take action, it is their own fault if they die. They heard the alarm but ignored it, so the responsibility is theirs. If they had listened to the warning, they could have saved their lives.” (Ezekiel 33:4-5) Pretty clear, isn’t it?

So where does my responsibility come in? After all, with the internet, television, and such spreading the message, why should I even try. There are so many more efficient ways to hear about Christ. Read on in Ezekiel: “But if the watchman sees the enemy coming and doesn’t sound the alarm to warn the people, he is responsible for their captivity. They will die in their sins, but I will hold the watchman responsible for their deaths.” (Ezekiel 33:6) I am, as a follower of Jesus, one of the appointed watchmen, and it is my duty to sound the alarm and show those who don’t know the way out, the way to freedom, the way to life eternal. “Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.” (Matthew 28:19)

The fires are raging, and the world is going, quite literally, to Hell. If I know the way out, but keep it to myself, I have essentially sentenced others to eternal suffering. I can’t live my short blip of a life with that knowledge and not acting on it. I am assured of my salvation, I know that I’ll be in heaven with Jesus someday. And I’m going to show as many people as I can the way there. It’s the least I can do after Jesus rescued me from such a fate.

A Life Of Contradiction . . .

2009-05-22T21:24:00.001-04:00

I’m coming to realize that my life . . . makes no sense. I know, this is a shock to many who know me, but read carefully the preceding words. I didn’t say that I don’t make sense (though that may certainly be the case . . . on occasion), but that my life didn’t make sense. As I near the close of my 36th year of existence, I’m realizing that I’m currently living a contradictory life.

From an outsider’s perspective, I should be thoroughly discouraged at this stage. Well into my third decade of life, I have never been married (nor do I even have any prospects at the moment), do not own my own home, I bicycle everywhere I go, I work retail . . . And the list can go on and on. Not exactly the life most people envy, is it? From a very worldly perspective, I should be despondent, depressed, on the brink of despair. So why, I ask, do I feel more hopeful, more joyful, more satisfied than I ever have in my life?

Paul’s words ring out to me now more than ever when he writes, “I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.” (Philippians 4:9-10, Message) See, it’s no longer about me, and, in truth, it never was. It is now, and always has been, about the One who makes me who I am. I have found the greatest treasure known to man, so how can I be discouraged over petty details?

Besides, Jesus has me taken care of no matter what. “What’s the price of a pet canary? Some loose change, right? And God cares what happens to it even more than you do. He pays even greater attention to you, down to the last detail - even numbering the hairs on your head!” (Matthew 10:29-30, Message) He knows every hair on my head - even the graying ones. “Give your attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.” (Matthew 6:34, Message) These are the words of Jesus, letting me know that I am seen and cared for in any and all circumstances. Why should I worry? I’m in the palm of His hand, all day, every day.

Besides, I’m stronger when I’m at my weakest, so I don’t have to let difficulties stress me out. Ah, I can almost see the question mark over your head. Paul explained it best. Talking about a handicap that he had asked God to take away three times, and he heard God say, “My grace is enough; it’s all you need. My strength comes into it’s own in your weakness.” Paul continues: “Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size - abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so, the weaker I get, the stronger I become.” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10, Message)

See? None of it makes sense; not in a typical, world-based view that has been perpetuated by generations of dissatisfied people. But, it’s the life that God has given me in place of my own pitiful attempts to run my own life. “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me - watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy of ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” (Matthew 11:28-30, Message) This is the offer Jesus give to us all. To live in the “unforced rhythms of grace.” To “live freely and lightly.” Yes, even in this world we inhabit, with all the wars, economic instability, and all the rest of the uncertainty. Real rest can indeed be found. I’ve found it, and I know lots of other people who have as well, and it’s all found in a relationship with Christ. Living a contradictory life can be fun - makes people wonder . . .

Before And After . . .

2009-05-03T22:21:00.002-04:00

This weekend, my church celebrated 10 years of following hard after Jesus, looking back at all He has done and realizing that He’s only begun. In one short decade, He has used Quest Community Church to bring over 5,500 people from death to life. From 60 people meeting in a hotel banquet room to building a 2,500 seat worship center to make room for more. It’s fairly obvious to me that He’s only begun, and it’s completely undeserved privilege that allows me to live this life.

In the midst of it all I began to reflect on all God has done in my own life. My heart has been transformed, my soul has been redeemed, and my life is irrevocably no longer my own. I barely resemble the man I was 3 years ago:

I used to be so fearful and insecure. Now, I’m becoming a barbarian for Jesus as I learn more of who I truly am in Christ

I once dreamt of fame and prestige. Now, my dream is to make Jesus famous, and it is my honor to serve Him unreservedly.

My heart used to break because I felt forgotten and insignificant. Today, my heart is absolutely undone at the thought of his lost kids, for the ones who don’t yet know Jesus the way I now know Him.

Before, I needed to understand absolutely everything, and got so frustrated at the realization that I couldn’t. Now, I know that I understand absolutely nothing - and I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

My question used to be, “God, would You do _________ for me?” No more. I now ask, “God, what do You want me to do for You today?” And, I find that my answer to Him is yes, even before He answers my question.

I had big plans for my life, and none of them have come into being. Now, my only plan is to follow Christ, day by day, step by step - and things are actually happening. Things that I would never have imagined, even if you would have told me. (Habakkuk 1:5)

I spent years trying to earn the love of everyone, including God. Now, I realize that I am so dearly loved by God for no other reason than that He made me. I know this because he sent his only boy to die just so that I could know Him. That love is all that matters, and there’s not a thing I can do to earn it. It is freely given without reservation, and I have gratefully, joyfully received it.

I love my church, I love Jesus who rescued me, and I love this life I get to live, even in the hard things. Sounds crazy, I know, but it’s the best life I’ve ever found, and there’s no turning back.

What I found today . . .

2009-03-07T16:04:00.001-05:00

I found a rock today. Nothing really remarkable about it. Fairly smooth, as if it‘s had to weather some things that have worn it down quite a bit. It has a couple of black scuff marks on it, as if it’s been kicked around or thrown under a few tires in it’s day. It was just sitting in the road, motionless, waiting for some outside force to act upon it.

I picked it up, and upon closer examination, I found something surprising. As I looked at it, turning it over in the palm of my hand, I realized: I have a lot in common with this rock. I know, weird, right?

As I looked at it, I noticed how many of the words that could describe this rock, could also be used to describe me. Solid. Scuffed. Flawed. Unforgiving. Stagnant. I’ve been all of these things at one time or another. But those only describe the rock as it’s lying in the middle of the road, motionless. As I picked it up and let it roll around in my palm, new thoughts sprung to mind.

See, in my hand, it could hardly keep still. Every slight motion of my hand moved the rock. It almost seemed alive, rolling with every slight twitch. Here it was, this scuffed, scarred, uneven rock that can’t do anything until it’s picked up, and then it seemingly comes to life. And I realized: that’s me. I, too, am scuffed and scarred, in ways that I don’t even realize, I’m sure. I’m certainly uneven in my life, often wavering and tossed about like a leaf on a wave. But, when I’m picked up by the hand of God, resting in the palm of His hand, I seem to come alive. I can’t keep still. And the flaws and black marks make no difference. It’s all useable and beautiful in the hand of a loving God. So that’s where I strive to be; resting in the hand of my Father, moving when He moves, resting when He rests.

My rock is going home with me. Just as a reminder of who I am and the life I really get to live.

I found a rock today. And it was a remarkable, beautiful thing.

Thoughts on the impending "holiday" . . .

2009-01-18T01:32:00.007-05:00

Perhaps I watch too many movies. Maybe I read too many books. Maybe I just have my expectations set way too high. Or, it could be that I’m just an incurable romantic at heart, despite being buried beneath a slightly cynical exterior. As we approach the 14th of February, I find my thoughts turning to romantic love and relationships, and the lack of either one through the course of my life to date.

I guess I have certain ideas about what that kind of love is supposed to be like, and I have yet to find anything that even remotely resembles it. I see it in other couples, and as much as I try to avoid comparison, I can’t help but wonder what it is they have that I seem to be missing. Is there, like, a romance gene that has somehow been filtered out of my DNA? Is there a defect in my very soul that won’t allow me to have a love like that? Or am I just stupid and oblivious? Whatever the explanation, it brings nothing but frustration.

It feels like I want something that I either can’t or I’m not supposed to have. It’s like the proverbial carrot on a stick, dangling right out there in front of me, taunting me, daring me to reach for it, knowing that it will always be just out of reach, but hoping against hope that, somehow, this time, my reach will exceed my perceived reality.

There are those well meaning people who, in an attempt to be encouraging, tell me to be patient, to wait on God’s timing, that He’s got “someone” out there for me. I’m starting to think this elusive someone may be in the witness protection program.

My guess (and it’s only a guess at this point) is that there’s still something I have yet to learn in this season of singleness, and I’m apparently too thick-skulled to learn it, or even realize what it actually is. Maybe it’s patience, maybe it’s contentment in all circumstances, maybe it’s how to be fully reliant on God alone. Could be all of the above, or it could be, in the words of the boys from Monty Python, “something completely different.”

James 1:2-4 reads, “Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.” I want everything God has for me in this, and I want to be “perfect and complete,” but I don’t necessarily want to wait for it. Sort of a spiritual catch-22.

There’s a phrase that appears 3 times in Song Of Solomon that says “do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires.” I, admittedly, have been guilty of awakening love well before the alarm was set to go off. It’s probably no accident that it’s never turned out very well. And, those experiences may have made me err on the side of extreme caution (hence my propensity towards waiting 5-6 years between relationships). Probably not the healthiest of responses, either. So, it seems there’s a balance to be struck; a balance between caution and risk-taking. I’ve yet to find where that balance lies, but I think I’m inching closer to it, day by day.

For now, I’m simply asking God to direct me into each step He wants me to take, to point out each turn as He wants me to take it. I’m asking Him to highlight hope, to show me glimpses into the plans He’s leading me into, to spur me on to continued obedience and trust in Him and Him alone. I’m asking for an increased capacity to learn whatever it is I’m supposed to be learning. And, I’m asking for Anne Hathaway to find Christ, move into town and fall madly in love with me. (OK, the last one is a pipe dream, but, you have to admit, she’s really cute.) There may or may not be someone out there for me, but I know that, no matter what, I am loved, and I am more than the sum of my emotions and my past. And, really, who could ask for anything more?

Resolved . . .

2008-12-31T23:20:00.003-05:00

So, another year comes to an end, and all over the world, people are contemplating how to make the coming year better. Such contemplation often takes the form of new year’s resolutions. The most common resolutions range in topic from physical fitness to financial solvency, from the amassing of physical possessions to the downsizing of said possessions.

As I’ve been reflecting over my past resolutions, I’ve noticed that they’re all of a temporary nature. Physical fitness is a constantly fluctuating standard, and possessions are only satisfying until the next greatest thing is invented and released into the wilds of retail. This year, I want my resolution to have a more lasting quality. As I’ve pondered and thought and analyzed and read, I think I’ve finally hit upon the best resolution I could possibly make. Consider the following verses . . .

“Jesus spoke to the people once more and said, ‘I am the light of the world. If you follow me, you won’t have to walk in darkness, because you will have the light that leads to life.’” John 8:12

“This is what the Lord says- your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel: I am the Lord your God, who teaches you what is good for you and leads you along the paths you should follow.’” Isaiah 48:17

“Teach me your ways, O Lord, that I may live according to your truth!” Psalm 86:11a

“I take joy in doing your will, my God, for your instructions are written on my heart.” Psalm 40:8

There are countless programs and plans, classes and seminars, all designed to improve our lives. Only problem is, in most cases, they’re only treating the symptoms of deeper reaching issues. It’s not about dropping a few pounds or saving a few bucks. It’s all about the state of the heart, a deeper longing that few want to examine because it requires asking hard questions and, often, taking drastic action. It’s because, as a whole, we’ve gotten away from the truth. We’ve forgotten that there’s a higher power at work, one that transcends our own desires, that which we mistakenly term “needs.” I’m tired of treating symptoms. I want to address the root of the problem, the heart of the matter.

How does one go about such an undertaking, one might ask. The answer is simple. Not easy, but simple. It is from this answer that my new year’s resolution is derived. I hereby resolve to live out 2009 following Jesus into wherever he guides and directs; to live my life squarely and securely in the middle of his will. Each day will be committed to him. Each decision will be made after seeking his guidance.

I’ve tried to make my own decisions. I wore my self-sufficiency as a badge of honor. And it got me nowhere. I was left unfulfilled and alone. What kind of life is that?! Not one that I want to live anymore. So this year, I cling to Philippians 2:13; “For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases him.” See, I don’t even have to attempt my resolution on my own.

Happy new year, my friends. May the blessings of 2009 double those of 2008. And may you wholeheartedly follow God’s leading for your life. And may you daily catch glimpses of his love for you.

Christmas Questions

2008-12-17T02:52:00.001-05:00

Of the four gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke & John), only two cover the birth of Christ, Matthew & Luke. Luke devotes two verses to Jesus’ actual birth (Luke 2:6-7), while Matthew gives the event thirteen words, only half of a verse (Matthew 2:1a). Seems odd to me that the birth of the Messiah that the Israelites had been waiting on for 400 years, the Savior of the world, would garner so little ink in the Word of God. What does rate some time in these pages is how people reacted to this birth. Wise men from the east sought him, the king at the time tried to have him killed: this is all detailed in Matthew’s account. Luke’s account, however, is what I find most fascinating.

See, there were these shepherds tending their sheep in the dead of the night. There they were, minding their own business, when suddenly, an angel appears. Much as you or I would be, they were afraid, terrified. The angel, first calming their fears, made the following proclamation; “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior – yes, the Messiah, the Lord – has been born today in Bethlehem, the City of David!” (Luke 2:10-11) The shepherds, upon hearing this, left their sheep, ran to Bethlehem to see the child, and then ran to tell everyone the met what they had seen.

My question is this: why the shepherds? Why did they get the angelic treatment? These guys were the forgotten ones, the low men on the social totem pole. Most proud fathers of newborns that I know center all the attention around their new child. God, being the ultimate in fatherhood, should, logically, have sent the angels to circle his boy that had just been born in human flesh. But no, he sent the angels to, of all people, the shepherds! Why?!

As I’ve been rolling this over in my head, I finally realized the reason. Jesus was not sent so that God could take pride in his own child. Jesus was sent so that we could know God to the fullest extent. Jesus was a gift to the world, to us, to you and me. Without Jesus, the broken, flawed, forgotten people of the world could never know the love God wants to lavish over them in ridiculous, unimaginable ways. This is why the angels were sent to the shepherds. They were the ones for whom this gift was meant, so God sent his best to let them know that their gift had finally arrived. Having received this most precious gift, they went and told everyone they could find that their gift had arrived as well.

For those of us who have already received this gift, let’s follow the shepherds’ example. Spread the word. Take this amazing gift to those who have yet to know the love of Christ. And for those who are still waiting, who still feel unloved, unwanted and undeserving of such a gift, consider this your official proclamation. “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior – yes, the Messiah, the Lord – has been born!” Your gift has arrived. Don’t wait any longer to receive it.

A Thin Line Of Grace

2008-10-08T01:33:00.001-04:00

Grace is tricky. Not intentionally, of course. But, I think, we make it more difficult than it has to be. Grace, for those unclear on the concept, is made most clear by Paul: “When people work, their wages are not a gift, but something they have earned. But people are counted as righteous, not because of their work, but because of their faith in God who forgives sinners.” (Romans 4:4-5) The modern explanation goes something like this: God cannot be in the presence of sin. We, as inherently sinful beings, cannot therefore be in the presence of God unless we are made righteous, or sinless, in His eyes. The only way that happens is through the death and resurrection of Christ. Righteousness is, therefore, not something we can earn, but is a gift given to us by way of the cross.

Here’s where we often trip ourselves up. Because we are now seen as sinless in the eyes of God, we can feel as if we have free reign. After all, if we’re covered by grace, then we can do anything we want without fear of divine retribution, right? Well, yes and no.

Technically, that’s correct. For those who have a relationship with Christ and have the Spirit living in them, grace covers our sin, past, present and future. However, our choices still have consequences for which we will be held accountable.

Apparently, this is not a new struggle. The folks in Corinth, back in the day, felt entitled to what Paul terms “sexual immorality.” He writes, “You say, ‘I am allowed to do anything’ – but not everything is good for you. And even though ‘I am allowed to do anything,’ I must not become a slave to anything.” (I Corinthians 10:23) Wisdom has to play a part in our behavior as followers of Christ.

Fortunately, there are guidelines for us to follow relating to us and to others. First, for the benefit of our own hearts: in teaching on lust & adultery, Jesus said, “So if your eyes – even your good eye – causes you to lust, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.” (Matthew 5:29) A graphic image, to be sure. But a sound principle. If something is causing you to sin, then it needs to be removed from your life. For some, that might mean throwing out some magazines or DVD’s, filtering or eliminating the internet, cutting up credit cards, emptying liquor bottles into the sink . . . whatever is causing us to sin by mere existence and proximity, it needs to vanish.

Then, for the hearts of others, there’s this: “So let’s stop condemning each other. Decide instead to live in such a way that you will not cause another believer to stumble and fall.” (Romans 14:13) This can be a harder one to gauge. For some people, this may mean not having a beer during a football game, even though you may really want one. For others, it may mean being a little more discerning with clothing selections. It could even mean not giving the one finger salute during rush hour, even if that jerk did cut you off.

So, yes, technically, grace does cover a multitude of sins. That doesn’t mean we’re entitled to go on committing them. Desire must give way to wisdom if we are to live our lives well. It’s a fine line, but it’s one worth defining.

Dangerous Prayer . . .

2008-10-05T01:11:00.003-04:00

On the whole, we pray pretty safe prayers. On the one hand, we can pray fairly innocuous prayers, such as saying grace before meals or vague requests such as, “God, be with Bob today.” These prayers really don’t require a lot of faith on our part, mainly because, most of the time, we’re not actually communicating anything of substance. I’m not saying these prayers are wrong. I just think that, on some level, God may want us to be a little bolder, a little more forward thinking.

On the other side of the fence, there are those prayers that we can be fairly certain won’t turn out that way we’d really want them to. These would include prayers like: God, let me pick the winning lottery numbers this week; Lord, let me find a Porsche in the driveway in the morning; God, let Anne Hathaway realize she’s madly in love with me. These prayers are pretty ridiculous in scope, and we usually know as we pray them that it just ain’t going to happen (though I’m still holding out hope for that Anne Hathaway thing).

Then there are those who dare to pray the dangerous prayers; the ones that require more on our part than just uttering some words in the general direction of Heaven. These require a heavy dose of faith, as well as some investment on our part. I’ve started to borrow one that David wrote in Psalms. “Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life.” (Psalm 139:23-24)

That’s a pretty bold prayer. Think about it this way; when you go to the doctor for a physical exam, you want the doc to be pretty thorough, even if it involves some discomfort. Why? If there’s something wrong with you, you want it discovered so that you can take the measures necessary to be healed. David wanted the same thorough exam for his heart, so that he could grow stronger and become more and more the man after God’s own heart that he was meant to be.

This is my desire as well. I want so much to live up to what I was designed for, to realize the potential that was placed in me since before I was born. I want to be known as a man after God’s own heart, too. Growing into that description requires lots of examination and a form of spiritual surgery. Not comfortable, not preferable, but it’s absolutely necessary.

So, I offer a challenge. Take David’s prayer as your own. It’s not an easy prayer, because, when God answers it, you’ll have some work to do. But, on the other side of it all, you’ll be better off for having done it.

The Stigma Of The Aging Single Man . . .

2008-09-18T02:07:00.002-04:00

I’ve been thinking about status lately (and I don’t mean Facebook status updates, although I do probably put too much though into those at times). No, I mean status as in social standing, how others view me, and how I view myself. Different labels come pretty easily. Piano player. Punster. Movie lover. Star Wars geek. Bachelor.

That last one, bachelor, has been popping into my consciousness more and more lately, especially as I’m getting older and greyer. It seems to me, in my entirely unscientific observation, that there are two basic thoughts on guys my age or older that have never been married.

1. “You must be one of those playboy George Clooney types, going out with a different supermodel every other week.”
2. “You’re that old & you’ve never been married? What’s wrong with you?”

These are both annoying, because I often find myself wishing the first one were true, and praying that the second one isn’t. It’s just so difficult not to succumb to the stigma of singleness (pardon my alliteration). After you get to a certain age (in my case, 36), one starts to wonder whether or not there actually is something wrong with me (other than the fact that I’m a big chicken when to comes to dating). Then the questions come: Why aren’t I married yet? Why can’t I get a woman to stay with me for any extended period of time? Am I just doing something wrong? Is there something inherently wrong with me? And it goes on and on . . .

In the middle of all this questioning, I remember Paul’s words to the Corinthians: “So I say to those who aren’t married and to widows – it’s better to stay unmarried, just as I am. But if they can’t control themselves, they should go ahead and marry. It’s better to marry than to burn with lust.” (I Cor. 7:8-9) Just a couple of verses before, he refers to singleness as a gift. If I’m really honest, it’s a gift I’d like to exchange sometimes. It’s that whole “burn with lust” clause. Show me a man who doesn’t deal with lust on a daily basis, and I’ll show you someone who’s either a liar or dead. So, short of becoming a eunuch, marriage seems to be the best option. The only other barrier seems to be a willing partner, which just opens up a whole other line of thought that really isn’t worth going into.

So, with all the doubts and questions circling like vultures above my heart, I choose to believe the following:

God delights in me and rejoices over me with singing. (Zephaniah 3:17)
He will never stop doing good to me. (Jeremiah 32:40)
He catches all my tears (Psalm 56:8) and wipes them all away. (Revelation 7:17)
He has good and perfect plans for me. (Jeremiah 32:40)
In Him, I will discover who I am and what I’m living for. (Ephesians 1:11)
I am His beloved child and He is so pleased with me. (Matthew 3:17)

For all the questioning and doubting, the loneliness and labeling, I get to rest in this fact: I’m simply His, and He’s got things planned for me. They may or may not involve a woman, and either way, I’m OK with it . . . well, most of the time . . .

Reflections on Isaiah 6:8

2008-09-01T22:58:00.001-04:00

“Here am I. Send me.” Just five words. Five simple words. However, if spoken in heartfelt sincerity, they can be among the most dangerous (and most freeing) words on the planet. If you say these words, and really meant it, God will send you. You may not know where, and you most likely won’t know why, but He will send you.
I’ve had to ask myself lately if these are words I’m really ready to say. More to the point, am I willing to say them? After all, willingness is implied in the first three of these words. “Here am I.” As if to say, “I’m willing, I’m available, I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be.” These words require no small amount of courage to say with any degree of sincerity.
Then there’s the second part: “Send me.” Almost feels like asking for, begging for the unknown. It really seems counterintuitive. Send me into uncertainty. Send me into potential danger. Send me into harm’s way. More to the point, send me into the brokenness of the world, into the midst of the hurting, wounded hearts of a fallen world.
Who actually wants that kind of life? What kind of person requests it? I’ll tell you who – someone who has truly experienced the life-changing love of Christ. One who knows that transformation is not only possible, but necessary if this world is to have any sense of hope at all. One who knows that the shift in heart that they have experienced can change this world, even if it’s just one heart at a time.
I’ve spent a lot of time immersed in selfishness, under the guise of “drawing closer to God.” There are many who use church as a spiritual filling station, topping off the tank before embarking on another week. Let me offer something I’ve learned. If you want a heart that is consistently full of the love of Christ, then you have to continually empty it. The more you empty yourself by drenching others in His love, the more your own heart will overflow, allowing you pour out even more, bringing even more overflow, and that cycle will go on, and on, and on. But, the cycle has to start somewhere, and it starts here:
“Here am I! Send me!”

Babies, Zombies And The Voice Of God

2008-08-24T00:05:00.002-04:00

About a year & a half ago, God gave me a word to mark my life. It was the word “courageous.” In the time since, I’ve not always lived up to that word, but I have, somewhat steadily, grown into it. It still doesn’t fit quite right, but I’ve still got some growing to do in that respect. A lot, actually.
Last April, God marked me with another word: “focus.” In the past four months, I’ve been trying to unpack the meaning behind that one, and I’m only now beginning to have some vague comprehension of it.
Yesterday, God gave me yet another word, this one probably the most powerful yet. Before I reveal that word to the online universe, some background may be in order. For that past couple of months, I’ve had this pervasive sense in the depths of my soul that God has been preparing my heart for something. What that something is, I have no idea, despite my best efforts to figure it out. But this sense, this feeling, has continued to grow. Then came . . . the dream. (Fasten your seat belt; this could get weird.)
Wednesday night, I had a dream, one of those rare dreams that I actually remember. I’ll spare you the minutiae of it all and give you the main points. Early in the imaginary adventure, I delivered, not one, but two babies from two different mothers. From there, I ended up at a party (don’t know how I got there), where, through a window, I saw . . . a zombie. (I know. I don’t even like zombie movies, so imagine my surprise.) So, naturally, I went out to investigate, only to be chased by the aforementioned zombie (or undead-American, to be politically correct). After a brief chase, I turned and yelled at the zombie to leave me alone, which it did, running off into the woods.
The moment I awoke from this dream (at 5am, I might add), something in me knew that, strange as it may be, God was trying to speak to me. I came to realize the next day that God was going to put some life changing, wonderful things in my life, and that I’d meet some big resistance in the acceptance of it, but I’d be given the power to overcome it, even to the point of commanding it to be gone. Goofy dream, serious message. God knows how to get my attention.
So, two days later, God gives me the third word to mark my life; a word that actually brought me to tears when I read it. The word: “entrusted.” My immediate reaction: unworthiness.
In the wake of this, an argument with God ensued. “How can You trust me with anything of significance,” I yelled, “when it seems like everything I’ve put my hands to has been laid to waste?” I just didn’t feel like I deserved any kind of divine entrustment. Still don’t, to some extent.
Later that night, God led me to a verse that made some sense of it all and gave me a bit of peace. Paul, writing to the church in Ephesus, says, “Though I am the least deserving of all God’s people, he graciously gave me the privilege of telling the Gentiles about the endless treasures available to them in Christ.” (Ephesians 3:8) Paul, arguably one of the most forceful advancers of the Gospel in history, considered himself the “least deserving of all God’s people.” And his entrustment, to take that message to those who need it most, was a gift graciously given by the God he felt unworthy to serve. What hope there is in those words!
Who among us hasn’t felt inferior, unworthy, useless at some point in our lives. Yet it’s just such a person, one who is flawed and broken, that God consistently chooses to use as His ambassador, His messenger – His kid, the kid He loves immeasurably. So, go forth, commanding the zombie of inferiority to retreat in to the woods. We’ve got work to do.

Voices in my head . . .

2008-05-31T12:58:00.001-04:00

Lately, I’ve been bombarded by voices. Voices of the past, voices of uncertainty, voices of fear, of inadequacy . . . the list goes on and on. And I’ve spent a lot of time trying to drown out those voices by ignoring them, escaping them. Movies, music, books, whatever will take my mind away from the issue at hand. But escapism offers no solutions, only momentary respite from the cacophony within my head and my heart. I no longer want to cover the voices, I want them silenced. But how?

There is a Voice that drowns out all the others by speaking Truth. Though it’s difficult to hear it through the ever-growing din of lies and half-truths, it is there, constantly speaking Truth over me, if only I will choose to hear it, to really listen to it and believe. “. . . and the sheep recognize his voice and come to him. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.” (John 10:3b) The Shepherd’s voice should be familiar and comforting, calling me beyond the mere noise of the enemy.

Have you ever seen a child lost in a public place? Above the noise of the crowds, the child is only listening for one voice, hoping to home in on the voice of his parent, praying for that voice to lead him to safety, to peace, to his father’s arms. That’s the ear with which I am now striving to hear my Father’s voice.

Everyone has voices with which they must contend. The situations may be unique, but the messages are essentially the same. The thing we must do is recognize the Truth the counters the lies.

Lie: I’ve screwed up so much. There’s no real hope for me.

Truth: “God has united you with Christ Jesus. For our benefit God made him to be wisdom itself. Christ made us right with God; he made us pure and holy, and he freed us from sin.” I Corinthians 1:30

Lie: I’ve been like this all my life. There’s no way I can change that now.

Truth: “This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” II Corinthians 5:17

Lie: Why would God want to bother with my little problems? He’s got bigger things to worry about.

Truth: “Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard you hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7

Lie: I’m just one insignificant speck in this world. I have nothing of value to contribute.

Truth: “A spiritual gift is given to each of us so we can help each other.” I Corinthians 12:7

And the list goes on. I pray that we all will hear His voice over all the others that clamor for our attention. And I pray that the Truth that only comes from Christ will be the only thing that guides our thoughts and our actions.

On The Naming Of Things (And People)

2008-01-13T15:25:00.000-05:00

I don’t think I know my name.

I realize that sounds like a strange statement to make. Let me explain. At times, in scripture, God would change a person’s name in order to mark them for a future purpose, or as a reminder of when He intersected their lives. In Genesis 17:5, Abram became Abraham, because God told him he would be the father of a “multitude of nations.”

Abraham’s grandchild, Jacob, also had a name change. Jacob wrestled with God, begging for His blessing, fighting all night long. Finally, in Genesis 32:26-28, the following conversation took place:

“Then the man said, ‘Let me go, for the dawn is breaking!’
But Jacob said, ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me.’
‘What is your name?’ the man asked.
He replied, ‘Jacob.’
‘Your name will no longer be Jacob,’ the man told him. ‘From now on you will be called Israel, because you have fought with God and with men and have won.’”

Lest you think this was solely an Old Testament activity, Jesus followed in Dad’s footsteps. Simon, one of the first that Jesus called as a disciple, got a new moniker in John 1:42. “Looking intently at Simon, Jesus said, ‘Your name is Simon, son of John—but you will be called Cephas’ (which means ‘Peter’).” Peter means “rock.” Peter went on to preach the first sermon in the first church of Christ-followers – essentially becoming the rock upon which the church, the body of Christ, was built.

All this name-switching has led me to thinking: does God have a new name for me? A new identity found only in Him that I have yet to fully discover? I’m learning more and more about who I am in Christ with each passing day, but I feel like I’ve only scratched the surface. What more does He have for me to learn, to discover, to grow into?

I don’t have the answers to these questions yet (if I did, I wouldn’t be asking them, would I?). But I know, no more than ever, that the answers are held in God’s hands, and will be revealed in God’s time. What new name does He want to mark me with? What new name does He want to give to you?

For The Love Of Music

2007-12-26T23:47:00.001-05:00

The next time you have the chance to watch a live musical performance – whether it be a symphony, a musical, or a rock concert – be sure to watch the musicians . . . in the audience.

It’s fascinating to watch a musician listen to music. As I write this, I’m watching the Kennedy Center Honors. This year, among the honorees is Leon Fleisher, a classical pianist that I’d never heard of before tonight. He sat in the audience as an ensemble performed Beethoven’s “Choral Fantasy,” and every so often, the camera would cut to Mr. Fleisher’s face as he watched. You could almost see that he was mentally playing the piece along with the musicians on stage. Later, as Hootie & The Blowfish performed “California Girls” in honor of Brian Wilson, the camera again cut to Mr. Wilson & Mr. Fleisher. They were both out of their chairs, clapping along and getting as close to dancing as men their age can.

I’m reminded of going to a Billy Joel concert several years ago. The song “Piano Man” is a staple at his shows (I’m not sure he’d get out of the stadium alive without playing it). Of course, everyone in the crowd knows the song by heart. When he gets to one of the last choruses, he and the band will stop playing and singing, letting the audience take over. The simultaneous pride and humility is written on his face as he sits and listens to hundreds upon thousands of people sing the song he penned so many decades ago.

I often wonder if it’s the same with God. After all, we are His masterpiece (see Ephesians 2:10). And, like a musician listening to a favorite piece, He knows exactly where our lives should be going (see Proverbs 16:19). Sadly, though, I sometimes feel that God is not so much beaming at a great performance than He is wincing at the flubbed notes. But this is not the God I serve.

I remember, as a kid, taking part in way too many piano recitals. Mom and Dad were always there, dutifully enduring all the younger kids, until it was my turn at the piano. And when I was done, they were always so proud, regardless of how many mistakes I had made (and there were many, I assure you). It was almost as if the goofs had passed right through their consciousness, and all they heard was the heart of the musician, rather than the notes of the piece.

This is how God sees me now that I’ve given my heart over to Christ. I Samuel 16:7 says, “Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart." All the goofs, all the mistakes, all the missed notes, none of that matters to Him. All He sees is my heart, which is inhabited by Christ. And so, as He looks at me, with all my flaws, He can still look upon my heart and say, “This is my dearly loved Son, who brings me great joy.” (Matthew 3:17) And that’s music to my ears.

Q & A

2007-12-13T02:35:00.000-05:00

Like most people, I spend a great deal of time seeking out God’s will for my life. This usually involves questions like: What am I supposed to do with my life? Who am I supposed to marry? What color socks should I wear today? (Just kidding.) I’ve been pondering such questions for years. Finding no concrete answers, I had almost come to the conclusion that somehow, somewhere along the way, I had missed an off-ramp, and was therefore destined to forfeit the plans God has for me (see Jeremiah 29:11).

Turns out (big surprise here) I was wrong. It’s not that I wasn’t finding any answers. I was just asking the wrong questions.

Moses asked the right questions. In Exodus 33:13, Moses asked of God, “If it is true that you look favorably on me, let me know your ways so I may understand you more fully and continue to enjoy your favor.” Notice that he didn’t ask, “Lord, what would you have me do? What career path should I follow?” It wasn’t about that. Moses understood what I’m only now starting to grasp. God’s will has nothing to do with any particular action I may take. It has everything to do with knowing God, knowing God’s character. That’s what Moses meant when he asked to know God’s ways. Knowing the character of God means becoming more intimate with him, becoming closer to him, becoming more like him. In this way, our decisions will more closely mirror God’s, so that we don’t have to run to him with every little thing. God’s character becomes our character, so that our minds come closer to being as one.

Moses also knew that if God isn’t in it, then it ain’t right. “If you don’t personally go with us, don’t make us leave this place. How will anyone know that you look favorably on me – on me and your people – if you don’t go with us?” (vs. 15-16a) Moses knew that to go anywhere without God meant disaster. In my life, this equates to going to God with my own plans, asking for his permission and/or blessing, rather than seeking his plan from the beginning.

So, putting these two concepts together, knowing the character of God is the best way to unveil his plans for us, because knowing his character means knowing which plans he will inhabit. And knowing God that intimately means spending time with him. It means going to him for more than just the occasional prayer request, but actually spending time in conversation with him, just like you would a close friend. That’s how you truly know someone.

My prayer, then, is this. “Show me the right path, o Lord; point out the road for me to follow. Lead me by your truth and teach me, for you are the god who saves me. All day long I put my hope in you.” (Psalm 25:4) Note that the psalmist doesn’t just ask for the solution. He specifically requests to be taught, and to be led by truth. That’s my desire; to be led by the truth of who God really is and to learn more and more about the character of God, so that I may be more like him.

All I Want For Christmas . . .

2007-11-30T22:52:00.000-05:00

My parents have requested (well, almost demanded, really) a list of things I would like to receive for Christmas. This is a difficult question for me, because a) I hate asking for things (that’s another blog for another time), and b) I can never think of anything I really need. There are lots of things that I want, but I feel silly asking for those because, well, it’s all just stuff. Mostly stuff for which I don’t have space. So, much to the dismay of my parents, my wish list is pretty short and painfully practical.

This discussion brought about a new train of thought for me this year. What, in all the world, do I want this Christmas? Many things came to mind. A house of my own. A new car (preferably a Jeep Wrangler, if anyone wants an extravagant gift idea . . .). A date for New Year’s . . . but I digress. As I pondered each of these things, nothing resonated in my soul as a true desire, a deep and stirring passion. As I continued to ponder over the next several days, it finally hit me. The one thing that I really want, above all else. I want a broken heart.

I know. Weird, right?

I don’t mean the kind of broken heart where a woman reaches into my rib cage, removes my heart, throws it on the floor and performs a Riverdance upon it (not that I’ve ever had that happen). No, I mean the kind of heart the breaks for those who have yet to find the peace and freedom I’ve found in following Christ. The heart that Christ himself had for those who refused to know and follow him.

Luke relays a story about Jesus that was only brought to my attention recently. Jesus is nearing Jerusalem, heading towards his betrayal, trail, and death on a cross. “But as he came closer to Jerusalem and saw the city ahead, he began to weep. “How I wish today that you of all people would understand the way to peace. But now it is too late, and peace is hidden from your eyes. Before long your enemies will build ramparts against your walls and encircle you and close in on you from every side. They will crush you into the ground, and your children with you. Your enemies will not leave a single stone in place, because you did not accept your opportunity for salvation.” Jesus was heading straight for the cross, and he was weeping for the ones who were going to put him there. More than that, he was weeping . . . for us.

That’s the heart I want. The heart that cries over the people who don’t yet know Christ. The heart that grieves for those who refuse to see the truth of who God truly is. I don’t have that heart yet. I feel sadness for them, and I want to see those who are lost find the love I’ve found. But my heart doesn’t break for them. And I wonder why.

As I look back on my spiritual growth, I feel a little like the Hebrews to whom Paul wrote. “You have been believers so long now that you ought to be teaching others. Instead, you need someone to teach you again the basic things about God’s word. You are like babies who need milk and cannot eat solid food.” (Hebrews 5:12) I feel like I’m so wrapped up in my own growth process that I forget about the primary call on the lives of all Christ followers: “Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20) I forget this far too often.

So, there you have it. My personal “Ultimate Christmas Gift.” A full on broken heart for those who need Christ and just don’t realize it yet. And the ability to pursue my own spiritual growth without losing sight of the reason I’m trying to be more like Christ; so that I can point more and more people to Him.

Get to know me!

2007-11-26T01:24:00.000-05:00

I love recognition.

I don’t mean receiving accolades for doing something good. In this case, I refer to simply being unexpectedly recognized in public. Every so often, in my job, I’ll come across someone whose face I recall seeing around church, but can’t quite put a name to. Of course, with my luck, they know my name, so I’m left trying to remember theirs while using nicknames like “brother,” “sport,” “champ,” and other such nonsense that just makes me sound like a dork.

Regardless, it makes me feel good to be recognized in such a capacity. In a way, it gives validation to my existence. On those invisible days, when it seems like no one notices I’m around, a simple, unexpected hello can be all it takes to lift my spirits and feel visible again.

But there’s a problem.

I think I’m starting to settle for being recognized instead of being known.

Yes, there’s a difference. I’m realizing that I tend to keep people at arm’s length. I try not to get too close, or to let others get too close to me. It’s safer that way. Sort of a “stay back and no one gets hurt” mentality.

My desires in this area are changing, though. I’m finding that I want to be known. I mean really known. More than just the superficial things like my favorite movie or favorite ice cream flavor (Mr. Holland’s Opus and rocky road, respectively). I want to be known so deeply and intimately that words aren’t necessary. There are few who know me that well. Maybe one or two people in Oklahoma, and perhaps my parents. That’s about it.

The thing is, having never made myself that accessible to people, I don’t really know where to start. I’ve made a few strides here and there with some folks at church, but I still feel like there are greater depths to be explored here. I just haven’t figured out how to reach them yet. It has helped to discover that Someone knows me better than I even know myself.

Psalm 139 starts out, “O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me.” (vs. 1) Not intimidating at all is it? God has looked at my heart. He knows my innermost thoughts and feelings. How? He “made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb.” (vs. 13) You’d think, having made something, pretty much from scratch, the Creator would know what makes it tick.

Now here’s the mind-blowing part. Even after examining my heart and knowing every little thought that flits through my flawed human brain, He still loves me. “How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered. I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up, you are still with me!” (vs. 17-18) Even knowing all the foolish, impure, and downright bad thoughts that enter and exit my mind on a daily basis, after seeing the sin and foolishness that I’m capable of, He sticks with me and loves me madly, passionately. My new favorite verse, Zephaniah 3:17, says “For the Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs.” God sings over me! And He sings over you! God, with His infinite, intimate knowledge of me, good and bad, sings about me.

I suppose this means that, if God can know me this well and still like me, then it’ll be all right to risk letting my fellow human beings, my brothers and sisters in Christ, know me a little better, and they’ll still like me, or at the very least accept me as I am.

So, my goal over the next few weeks (months, years, etc.) is to simply be me. Not a self-styled, idealized version of me, but just me. Flaws and all. No sense in denying the flaws are there. That’s obvious. Better to embrace the work that God can do in and around those flaws and realize the potential of growth by letting God deal with them, whether it be within my own heart or through others. It all begins by being real and allowing myself to be known.

Helping God?

2007-11-13T23:55:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid, I was a helper. Still am, to some extent. I’m always available to lend a hand wherever I can. I’ve helped countless friends move, I’ve given advice (some of it actually good), and the list goes on. It’s just how I’m wired.

There are times, though, when I go too far. Once in a while, when I think I’ve gotten it all figured out (HA!) and I’m just sure that I know what God has planned out for me, I try to help God. As you can imagine, that always works out well.

See, trying to jump the gun on God’s plans is a lot like trying to read the last chapter of a mystery novel. Yeah, you know whodunit, but you lose the joy of discovery, the process of learning the why, the how, the process of deduction that leads the hero to the solution. Where’s the joy in that?

It’s much like that in the life of a Christ-follower. Sure, we can try and figure out the end result of what God has in mind for us, try to skip ahead, find a shortcut, but we miss the process. We miss the opportunity to overcome obstacles and experience the thrill of victory. We miss the chance to rely on God and learn that He is truly able to be our source of help and strength.

Whenever I’m foolish enough to predict God, He’s usually kind enough to give me a gentle reminder of who needs to be in charge. Since I’m a little dense, and subtlety is often lost on me, God gets . . . well, sarcastic with me. Don’t believe God can be sarcastic? Read on, my friend.

The book of Job tells the story of a man who had everything taken from him; possessions, position, family, everything. Job’s friends tried to tell him that God was angry about some unconfessed sin or some other nonsense, and these troubles were God’s form of punishment. In the midst of all this, Job cries out: “I cry to you, O God, but you don’t answer. I stand before you, but you don’t even look. You have become cruel toward me. You use your power to persecute me. You throw me into the whirlwind and destroy me in the storm. And I know you are sending me to my death - the destination of all who live.” (Job 30:20-23)

I love God’s response. “Have you explored the springs from which the seas come? Have you explored their depths? Do you know where the gates of death are located? Have you seen the gates of utter gloom? Do you realize the extent of the earth? Tell me about it if you know!” (Job 38:16-18) He goes on to ask, “Do you still want to argue with the Almighty? You are God’s critic, but do you have the answers?” (Job 40:2) This is how God speaks to me when He really wants me to get what He’s trying to teach me.

I can almost hear him now (sounding suspiciously like a cross between Charlton Heston and my father). “How can you guess what I have in store for you? I have every step planned out for you, and all you have to do is take each one as they come. If you think you have a better plan, then go for it; just as soon as you create your own universe and populate it with life, then you can claim the knowledge and wisdom to call the shots. Until then, why don’t you try trusting Me?”

I love helping people. And I will continue to do so as long as God allows me to do so. But I’m going to stop trying to help God. He doesn’t need my help, just my willingness to follow. No more skipping to the end. Just looking for the next right step.

No, no, I've got this . . .

2007-11-05T15:36:00.000-05:00

I’m what you call a do-it-yourselfer. I don’t mean that on the weekends I’m out in the yard building a barn or some similar structure. First of all, I have no yard, and second of all, I have absolutely no need for a barn. No, what I mean is that I hate having to ask for help. When I do, it feels like I’m asking to be bailed out of something I should never have gotten into in the first place. So, I go along in silence, muddling through on my own, until I’m in so far over my head that I have no other option BUT to ask for help. Of course, by that point, I feel like a complete idiot.

You see, I’m the kind of person who doesn’t like to burden others with my problems. The way I see it, everyone else has their own issues, so I don’t want to add mine onto them. For years, I was under the impression that this was how good people lived; put up a façade of competency and confidence in front of others, then fall apart when you’re home by yourself. That seems to be the leading modus operandi among humanity today, especially in church.

I’m learning now, however, that we are not meant to live this way, especially in the church. The first church ever had it right. “And all the believers met together in one place and shared everything they had. They sold their property and possessions and shared the money with those in need. (Acts 2:44-45)” This was a community of about 3,000 people who had one thing in common – they had all experienced the extreme and unreasonable love of God through His son, and they wanted to lavish that love on everyone they could.

So, what happened? How did we get from that to where we are now? What, in the last 2,000 years, took the followers of Christ from sharing “everything they had” to saving face at all costs? I think it’s the desire for perfection. Christ Himself said it: “But you are to be perfect, even as your Father in Heaven is perfect. (Matthew 5:48)” Our idea of perfection, though, has been poisoned. According to popular opinion, in order to be perfect, we can have no flaws, no problems, whether they be physical, mental, emotional or spiritual. It’s an impossible goal, but we all strive for it anyway, giving ourselves ulcers in the process. I’m pretty sure this is not what God had in mind.

Christ told us one way to be perfect. A rich young man had asked Him what good deeds were necessary to obtain eternal life. Christ said that there is only One who is good, but to answer his question – “ . . . keep the commandments.” The young man asked which ones to keep (which always struck me as odd; I mean, Christ said keep the commandments, not some of the commandments). Christ listed a few of the commandments to be kept, but the young man wasn’t satisfied. “I’ve done all that; what else do I have to do?” He was essentially asking how to be perfect. Christ’s response was this; “If you want to be perfect, sell all your possessions and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me. (Matthew 19: 16-22)”

This is what I think everyone misses, including me. We are blessed when we help others. And, yes, it’s very easy to go and help the less fortunate when it’s all set up by a non-profit organization, and we can make a tax-deductible donation or spend an hour or so serving food. But we’re called to even more than that. Look back at the passage from Acts. The first believers shared everything that they had. This implies, in my mind, that they had to tell each other their needs so that they could help appropriately. Nowhere in scripture does it say that they all put on brave faces in their trials so that no one else would feel burdened.

All of this is to say that I now realize that I’ve been robbing other people of blessings by not allowing them to help me. None of us was meant to do life alone. It just doesn’t work that way. We have needs throughout this life, and I think there are two reasons: one is so that we can learn to rely on God, to truly lean on Him for all our needs. The other is so that God can bless people by working through them. I know I’ve been blessed by helping others when I could. Why shouldn’t I give others the opportunity when I’m in need?

God is working to diminish my pride so that others can be used in my life. This is how true community is built; by leaning on each other. I’m done standing stoically when I’m falling apart inside. It’s going to be a tough transition, but God is showing me how to live in the community in which He’s placed me. After all, Christ ran around with 12 other guys to help Him out. If the only perfect person ever to walk the earth could accept help from His friends, then I should feel no shame in asking for the occasional hand, especially from my good friends, my brothers and sisters in Christ.

So, to those who have been in my corner, thank you. You are my heroes, and you have been the hands and feet of God in my life. I hope that I can one day return the favor. God bless.

Comedy & Tragedy

2007-10-30T11:20:00.001-04:00

Comedy is when you slip on a banana peel and fall on your butt. Tragedy is when I slip on a banana peel and fall on my butt.

Why is it that, when something happens to someone else, it seems like such a minor thing, but when it happens to me, all of a sudden, it’s the end of the world? Seems like I’ve gotten my priorities out of whack somewhere along the line.

I know that I get so wrapped up in my own so-called problems that I can be completely oblivious to someone who is truly hurting. My minor inconvenience somehow takes precedence over another human’s pain. If I were to truly take an objective look at my life, I’d have to conclude that it’s not so bad. I have a roof over my head, food to eat, friends to lean on, and a job to provide finances. That’s more than a lot of people have. So why is it that, when I have a little extra responsibility tossed my way, inwardly I want to whine about it and cry, “It’s not fair! I didn’t sign up for this!” In that context, I seem kind of selfish and spoiled.

When Jesus was asked what the greatest commandment was, He responded, “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ The entire law and all the demands of the prophets are based on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:37-40) I’ve been thinking about these verses a lot lately. I’ll write more on the first part of it later, but for now, I want to focus on the second part. Love your neighbor as yourself. Easier said than done.

How do I go about loving someone else like I love myself? I mean, don’t we live in a society where we’re all expected to live for ourselves, and to heck with the rest of the world? That’s how it seems most of the time. But Christ would have us take a different route.

Christ himself said that, “There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13) There are darn few people for whom I’d take a bullet, but there are a few that come to mind. But there’s more to this than life and death. Let’s rephrase it this way; for whom would I be willing to inconvenience myself if they were in need? The list grows a little. Not as much as it probably should, but it does lengthen a bit.

So my prayer is this: God, let me see others as you see them. Not as a drag on my time and energy, not as a diversion on my way to my own goals. Rather, let me see people as Your kids. As fellow humans beings who are hurting, probably far more than me. And let me be Your instrument in their lives, though it may seem inconvenient to me, because You sent Your boy to die so that I might live, and I can’t imagine a greater inconvenience than that. Help me put my preferences aside and put other people’s needs above my own.

Check, please . . .

2007-10-28T23:38:00.000-04:00

This is not the life I wanted.

I wish there were some kind of waiter that would come by and ask how everything is, so I could send my life back and get a new one, because THIS is not what I ordered. Sadly, that’s not how things operate. There’s no 800 number to call and complain. There’s no customer satisfaction survey to fill out. You’re just expected to take what you’re given and do the best you can. What a way to run a universe.

There are days I want to sue God for breach of contract. Wasn’t there something about granting the desires of my heart? I looked it up, and there it is, in black and white: “Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” (Psalm 37:4) Well, I’m looking around, and I don’t see the desires of my heart. I’m not disgustingly wealthy. I’m not married to a Charlize Theron clone. I don’t have my time machine. (OK, even I can admit the last one was a little out there.)

Of course, as I look at it now, I don’t necessarily think I’ve lived up to my part of the deal. There’s a condition on the desires portion of that verse. “Delight yourself in the Lord.” Have I really done that? Let me look back over my day. I was impatient with some customers today. I got bonked on the head by some heavy art at work and thought, if I didn’t actually say, some words unbecoming to a professed follower of Christ. I failed to heed Paul’s advice to Timothy, the one about looking on women with “absolute purity.” (I Timothy 5:1-2) I don’t think that God was too delighted with my actions today, which would show that I wasn’t exactly delighting myself in Him. So how does anyone live up to this hopelessly high standard?

There was something I heard in church tonight that put all this in perspective. It was a simple phrase: align your heart with the heart of God. This, in my mind, involves seeing others the way God sees them. It means having a heart that breaks upon encountering someone who doesn’t know Christ and swells when a lost child of God finds his or her way home. It also means that, rather than complaining about what’s wrong, I seek out what God has for me to learn about myself or Him in my current circumstance. It means praising Him, even when I don’t exactly feel like lifting up a song of jubilation at the time. It means I remember that, contrary to my perception, God had EVERYTHING under control.

As I get these things solidified in my mind, I’m beginning to realize that my desires are changing. They’re starting to look more like the things God wants. My concerns are starting to shift from myself to others. I’m more concerned for the state of their souls than I am about my own idea of what is right and proper.

I forget these things far too often. I’m just glad that God loves me enough to continually forgive me when I do. Otherwise, there’d be no hope whatsoever.

This is not the life I wanted. But it’s the one God has given me, and I’m going to do the best I can with it, try to live it the way God would have me live. And hopefully, living my life in this manner will point others to Christ. That’s what life is all about, really.

I want to be normal . . . I think

2007-10-28T00:33:00.000-04:00

As I was coming home the other day, I found myself praying for a normal life. I’ve been reflecting on my life lately, and what I’ve found is most certainly not “normal.” Here I am, 35 years old. Based solely on my own observation, most folks my age seem to have gotten married, had at least one child (if not more), are fairly settled in a career, own a home, and so on and so forth. I, on the other hand, am not married (not even close), have no children, live in an apartment, and I work retail (and I’m not really sure that’s the career I’m looking for).

As I was praying, I could hear God sort of whisper in my ear, “What is normal?” My gut-reaction answer was, “Well, it’s what all those other people have!” Then God introduced an interesting thought into my brain: maybe I’m not supposed to be normal. In a case like this, wanting to be “normal” could even be a sin.

I know, it’s kind of a radical thought, but follow me on this. The normal life that I’ve been wanting is based on what the seeming majority already has. I know, it doesn’t seem so bad, but allow me to quote the original Top Ten List: “You must not covet your neighbor’s house. You must not covet your neighbor’s wife, male or female servant, ox or donkey, or anything else that belongs to your neighbor,” (Exodus 20:17) So, just by praying my initial prayer, I’ve broken a commandment. Great.

Rather than bring down his wrath on me, God gently redirected my thought process to show me what He wants for me. If we all had the same stuff, life would be pretty boring. “There are different kinds of spiritual gifts, but the same Spirit is the source of them all. There are different kinds of service, but we serve the same Lord. God works in different ways, but it is the same God who does the work in all of us.” (I Corinthians 12:4-6) “The sun has one kind of glory, while the moon and the stars each have another kind. And even the stars differ from each other in their glory.” (I Corinthians 15:41)

See, it’s our differences that make us useful to God & His kingdom. It’s our different situations that allow us to compliment one another in the body of Christ. It’s our different experiences that allow us to help others in their time of need. Look at the disciples Jesus chose. Peter was a fisherman. Matthew was a doctor. Matthew was obviously the more educated of the two, but it was Peter who preached the first sermon (see the book of Acts) that led 3000 people to faith in Christ. If Christ chose such a diverse group of men to follow Him initially, then being different can’t be a bad thing.

So, I’m changing my prayer. I don’t want to have a normal life. I want the life God has planned for me. “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord. ‘They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. In those days, when you pray, I will listen. If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me.’“ I may not understand or know those plans, but I know that, as God reveals them to me, even if they don’t make sense, it’s in my best interest to follow them. God created the intricacies of the universe. I think I can trust Him with the details of my lifetime.

Training vs. Leadership

2007-10-26T11:29:00.000-04:00

I was trained to be a Christian.

I realize that may seem like an odd statement, but stick with me, I’m going somewhere with this, I promise.

I came to this realization not long ago. I’ve been looking at my life, sort of trying to figure out where I’m going by looking at where I’ve been, especially in the spiritual realm. What kind of man do I want to be, what kind of life do I want to live, how do I want to be remembered, that sort of thing. And in the midst of this internal self-examination, I had this epiphany . . .

I was trained to be a Christian.

Let me explain. I have worked in retail for a while now, and I’ve trained a few people on how to do their jobs. The idea of this training is to teach the employee how to do the job, answer whatever questions they may have, and, once they appear to have the procedures nailed down, leave them to do their job as you go off to do yours. Pretty basic and straight forward. Occasionally, they’ll have a question, and you’ll answer it and go on about your business.

I realized that, to some extent, that’s how my spiritual development has been. When I was a kid, we went to church every week, and I dutifully went to Sunday school and learned about Jesus. As I grew older, the pattern changed very little. I took in the information about God, regurgitated it properly to the right people, and assumptions were made that if I knew it, then I’d live it out. Nothing more was needed on the part of my trainers.

Granted there were a few people who went beyond the call of duty. At this moment, I can think of one youth pastor who took more of an interest in the state of my heart than simply imparting information. Most of the rest seemed to be concerned about how I appeared to other eyes. What I learned from all of that was to give the right answers, make others believe that you have it all together, and then you’re a good Christian boy. That was the training I received. Well, guess what . . .

It doesn’t work that way.

All that kind of religious training does is produce unfulfilled human beings who think they have to get it perfect or else their church, and, by extension, God, won’t accept them. I know. That was me.

And the cycle continues to perpetuate itself. And as a result, Christianity as it was meant to be erodes further and further until it is hardly recognizable. Read through Acts, chapter 2, and compare that to the typical church of today. See any resemblance? Maybe a pale reflection, a cheap imitation, but that’s about it.

I know I’m coming off as pretty harsh, but I’m now seeing kids who are hurting, and are simply ill-equipped to deal with it, spiritually speaking. Kids and young adults who are dealing with real loneliness, real heartache, real grown-up problems that they shouldn’t have to deal with yet, if at all.

So, what’s the alternative? Real, honest-to-goodness leadership.

I’m learning now that it’s better to be led than it is to be trained. To be led is an ongoing process that really never ends. It’s a daily decision to follow the direction of one who knows better. It’s the idea that there will always be someone to guide you through the rough spots with love and patience. It’s the knowledge that, no matter what comes up, you’ll never have to go through it alone.

I can’t help but think of Peter. Here was a simple fisherman, impulsive and rough. Jesus came to him and said, simply, “Follow me.” And he did. Not perfectly, by any means, but he kept following. This impulsive, rough fisherman founded the first church (again, see Acts 2). This is the same man who, shortly after cutting off the ear of a man who had come to take Christ away, denied even knowing Him. I relate to Peter in many ways. I have been known to praise God in one moment, then commit egregious sins the next. And God is always there to lead me through the bad stuff so that I can get into the good stuff the He intended for me all along.

So, I’m now in the process of shedding all the training I’ve had so that I can be led by the ultimate leader, the One who already knows where the best path is, and is willing to show me if I’ll only allow myself to be led rather than go my own way and eventually need to be led back to the right way.

And I pray that, in dealing with others, I can lead them to the One who can lead them to everything they never knew they needed. Just like He’s doing with me.

Perfectly Flawed

2007-10-25T12:12:00.000-04:00

I’ve said it before, and I’ll reiterate here: contrary to popular belief, I am not perfect. I am a flawed human being. I have my issues just like everyone else in the world. I make bad choices, I laugh at things that aren’t necessarily “appropriate,” and I do battle daily with what I’ll call (for the sake of family-friendly blogging) impure thoughts. I’m not proud of it, but it’s the truth. I’m a screw-up. I don’t want to make the wrong decisions, but I do.

I empathize with Paul when he wrote, “I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead, I do what I hate . . . I want to do what is good, but I don’t. I don’t want to do what is wrong, but I do it anyway.” (Romans 7:15, 19) I know the right things to do, and I know what I should avoid, but, somehow, I get it backwards. I do the things I should be avoiding, and I avoid the things I should be embracing. Why? The answer lies a few verses later: “I love God’s law with all my heart. But there is another power within me that is at war with my mind. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me.” (vs. 22-23)

So, how can I escape this pattern of behavior that plagues me? I Corinthians 10:13 seems to have the answer: “The temptations in your life are no different from what others experience. And God is faithful. He will not allow the temptation to be more than you can stand. When you are tempted, He will show you a way out so that you can endure.” The trick here is a two-parter: 1) recognizing the way out, and 2) choosing to use it. This, my friends, is harder than it seems. Well, at least the second part poses some difficulty in my little world.

If the grace of God is enough to cover a “multitude of sins” (James 5:20), then why do I need to worry about right and wrong? Doesn’t that give me license to do what I want, knowing God will forgive me if I ask? Not necessarily. Paul writes “You say, ‘I am allowed to do anything’ – but not everything is good for you. You say, ‘I am allowed to do anything’ – but not everything is beneficial.” (I Corinthians 10:23) You see, realizing that sin is bad for you in the long run should be an effective deterrent from said sin. But that’s not enough. We can’t choose right under our own power. We’re just not strong enough. We’re all just flawed human beings.

Where does this strength come from? Describing of a “thorn” in his side (what some scholars believe to be a chronic illness of some kind), Paul said “Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away. Each time He said, ‘My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.’” (II Corinthians 12:8-9a) In our weakest moments, the times of our greatest temptations, that’s when God power becomes most evident. Most people want God to move in their lives so that they never experience hard times or fall to temptation. But it’s precisely in those times that we need Him most, and it’s in those desperate moments that God’s presence and love are most clearly shown to us.

The next time temptations come, my goal is to seek the way out God provides and actually use it. To depend solely on His grace rather than my own meager resources. To let His strength work in my weakness. And, most of all, to rest in the knowledge that I’m His kid, and that He, more than anyone else, is rooting for me to make the right choices, the ones that are beneficial, not just permissible. And that is my prayer for you, as well, whoever you may be.

Answers vs. Truth

2007-10-23T10:56:00.000-04:00

Being a rational, logical sort of guy, I spend a good deal of my time seeking answers. If there’s a problem, chances are I’m trying to find some sort of solution, even if the problem isn’t mine. It’s just how I’m wired (must be all those mysteries I keep reading). As it turns out, there’s an entire industry dedicated to providing answers to the world; publishing.

The next time you chance to have a free hour or so, head to your local bookstore and peruse the self-help section. There you will find pages upon pages of advice, direction and sure-fire plans to make your life what it would have been had you been smart enough to figure it out on your own. It’s so kind of all these people to educate the rest of the world as to where we’ve gone wrong and how to fix it.

There’s one little problem, though. The authors tend to contradict each other. Between the doctors, motivational coaches, and other various self-help authors, no one seems to be abele to agree on what the definitive answer to life, the universe, and everything seems to be (it’s 42, by the way. Thank you, Mr. Adams). All these people are at odds with each other, and for one reason alone: to get money from your wallet into theirs. Knowing that there are so many “answers” available, how is one supposed to know which answers are the right ones?

I’ve finally decided that I no longer want the answers to life’s questions. I just don’t. Having an answer implies that the given situation is fixed, and no longer needs attention. There are very few life issues that can be dealt with in such a manner. You see, “answers” are, at best temporary fixes, sort of a psychological duct tape to hold things together until the next thing goes awry. I’m not after the temporary fix. I want something more lasting. I want truth to govern my life.

See, truth is a permanent thing. Truth is truth, no matter what the transient nature of life may be. It always holds up. Truth may be hard to deal with, and at times unpleasant, but it will never be wrong. This is the stuff of life for which I strive. I believe that if I live my life according to the things I know to be true, then I will have a life worthy of living, one that goes beyond mere existence into significance. One that leaves the world a little better than I entered it.

For example, in Ephesians, Paul writes, “Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.” (3:20, NLT) My finite human mind can’t even fathom what God may have planned for me, but I can rest in the truth that He is powerful enough to achieve far more than I could possibly dream. Whenever I am reminded of this (which happens far more often than should be necessary), I find a peace in the idea that I don’t have to have all then answers, because God has things well in hand, and all I have to do is be His kid. And that’s a truth that will remain true as long as this world spins on it’s axis.

So, for all those self-help junkies out there, those who believe Dr. Phil is an oracle and Oprah a prophet, just remember: their shows will be canceled someday, and their books will eventually go out of print due to obsolescence. The truth will remain forever, and will be proven again and again.

Conversational Shorthand

2007-10-22T13:25:00.000-04:00

My two best friends in the world are back in Oklahoma. Jon, Albert & I were virtually inseparable. Where one of us was, chances are the other two weren’t far away. Every Wednesday night, we had our version of poker night, but instead of playing cards, we’d play video games. Goldeneye, to be exact. Nothing brings friends together like running around in a virtual environment trying to shoot each other.

Since we spent so much time together, we inadvertently developed a sort of conversational shorthand. One sentence, sometimes even just a word, could replace paragraphs of conversation. For example, I could call Jon and leave a message saying, “Jon, I’m an idiot. Call me.” He knows that this means I’ve just called a girl in an attempt to ask her out and I’m freaking out about it, so I need him to talk me down. (Boy, it’s been a while since I’ve had to utter those words. But I digress)

When this happens, Jon will inevitably call Albert so that he can give me a hard time about actually having a date for once. So he’ll call me and, with no preamble whatsoever, just say, “So . . .,” in a particular tone of voice that has become so familiar. I know that this one word means, “OK, I know there’s something going on. Fill me in so that I can simultaneously support you and make fun of you.” This exchange between the three of us would probably be a ritual if it happened more than once every five years or so. Again, I digress.

This shorthand we’ve developed comes from the large amounts of time we’ve spent together, from the friendship we’ve developed and the intimate knowledge we have of each others personalities. It’s a comfort to know that, when I can’t explain what I’m thinking or feeling, these guys can take the few words I can give them and decipher the reality behind them.

When I pray, however, I often feel the need to labor over my words, making sure my requests are worded just right, working down a laundry list of desires, praises, fears, and so on. Wouldn’t it stand to reason that, if my relationship with Christ is where it needs to be, if I’m spending my time with God as much as I ought, we’d have developed the same kind of shorthand? I believe that’s what God wants from us, to take the time and develop that level of familiarity with Him.

Romans 5:8 says that, “ . . . the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.” I think, in my limited theological knowledge, that these “groans” equate to the same conversational shorthand I’ve developed with Jon & Albert. See, the more you allow the Spirit to work in you, the closer you’ll become to God. “Because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, the Spirit how calls out ‘Abba, Father.’” (Galatians 4:6) Break this verse down, and here’s what I see. Because we’re God’s kids, He gave us the spirit of His Son, so that we could come to Him as our daddy. And with His Spirit, we don’t even need words to talk with Him. He knows our thoughts and our needs before we can utter them anyway. You know those days when you just come home, flop down on the couch and release this heavy sigh that you’re sure can be heard by the neighbors? That sigh, the simple expulsion of air from your lungs, speaks volumes to the God who knows you intimately and wants so much to be your daddy.

That’s the kind of familiarity I want with God, and that comes only with spending time with Him, an area I know in which I’ve been deficient lately. I’ve decided that deficiency will change today. I want to continue to grow in Him and to be able to develop that kind of shorthand where, not only do I know He understands my innermost being, but where I can recognize His voice among all the others clamoring for my attention. There’s a peace in knowing that ease of relationship is not only possible, but desired by Him.

Since this has been one of my lengthier rambles, I’ll stop here. I need to go figure out how I can be an “idiot” again.

When God Sings

2007-10-22T12:59:00.000-04:00

There have been many days lately where I’ve felt . . . well, inferior. I feel like, after 35 years of existence, I should have a little more on the ball than I do at the moment. I’ve been discouraged, lonely, tired, etc. I try to find things to give my spirits a boost, or my ego a jolt of self-esteem, but it’s too hard to do on my own.

Tonight, though, I came a cross a verse in the Old Testament that took me by surprise. While looking for something else entirely, I stumbled on the book of Zephaniah. The bulk of this book of prophecy is warning against the consequences of sin. This, I’m already aware of. I’ve screwed up enough to know that there are consequences when I make a bad decision, and I don’t need to be reminded of it, thank you very much. But towards the end of the book, the tone changes dramatically to one of hope.

One verse in particular caught my eye. “The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.” (3:17) Taken as a whole, this verse is a huge encouragement. Then I started to break it down, and discovered whole new levels of hope and confidence.

“The Lord your God is with you, . . .” God is with me right now. The One who’s running this whole universe is with me at this very moment. “He is mighty to save.” He is all powerful and faithful to save me from the crap that’s bogging my down (spiritually speaking, of course). “He will take great delight in you . . .” Great delight? In me? Why? Because I’m His kid, and He loves me for that reason alone. Not because I deserve it, necessarily, but because He chooses to. “He will quiet you with His love . . .” All my fears, all my insecurities, all my foolish, finite human thought processes will be stilled once I start to grasp the fact that He loves me and He’s looking out for me (see Jeremiah 29:11). “He will rejoice over you with singing.” This is the most incredible to me. Even in my most minor of successes, God will rejoice. Not just give me a pat on the back and a hurried “Atta boy,” but with a song! God singing about me. I’ve spent my life in church singing about God, but never once thought about Him singing about me.

I remember when I was a kid, my parents would always tell me that they were my biggest fans. And they were. They showed it every chance they could. Every piano recital, ball game, school play, they were right there, with the biggest smiles on their faces, beaming with pride as their only child was butchering Beethoven or trying to throw the ball to first base and somehow managing to hit the shortstop in the head. The point wasn’t that I was perfect. The point was that I was trying, doing my best, and that was what they were proud of.

I think that’s how God looks at me now. It’s not about how perfectly I can execute the Christian lifestyle. It’s not about getting the notes just right, or always offering the right advice. That’s all surface stuff. God’s concerned about the heart. We’re going to screw up. As long as we’re sincerely trying to improve and draw even closer to Him, then even through the fumbles and failures, God will still be in Heaven, singing our song, proud that, on the heart level, we’re still trying to be like Him.