Tracking

As I sit the write this, it is officially twenty-five minutes into Christmas Day. It is a weird feeling mostly because it came upon me so quickly. If I didn't have a pile of things behind me that now belong to me, but that I did not buy (I know I didn't steal them), well, then I just wouldn't believe it to be true. There are just an overage of things going on; for there's a wedding, buying a house, thoughts on how to start a church, school, work and why Christmas itself is a thing to be considered. And there it is: a consideration.

I was going to go to bed, but decided instead to see where my book is at this very moment. I was given a gift card for my birthday and decided on a book to use it on. Turns out, right now, it is in Illinois. What a funny thing we can do: Track packages. We can know exactly where they are and what will come of them and when at any given point of the day. Oh if it was only that simple! Do you know what lengths are taken for us to know? Me either, but I'm sure it's more work than necessary just so I can know where my book is in it's journey to me.

But yet, the Baby knew before He was here where He would end up. His life and death were tracked from the beginning of time (or before it, for They didn't know time) but He created it and entered into it anyway. Did he count the days, like on my tracking website? Three days until delivery it tells me. Why, yes, three days did delivery me. But Jesus, in that manger, nursing at his mother's breast, humbly accepting bare survival from a world He would save...oh what a knowledge. `Sleep in Heavenly peace, indeed! I don't know how He did, but I can assure you that I will because of Him.

 I don't like thinking about where I'm going. I'm glad I can't track my life. It's just simply too much to think about. But there is one destination I know I'll arrive at, even if I can't know how many days I have left. The beautiful truth for those who have given their lives to the Christ is this Earth is the closest to Hell we'll ever get. The sad truth for those who just can't believe that a  King would enter the world the way Jesus did and certainly can't believe He would leave the world the way He did...well, this Earth is the closest to Heaven they will ever get.

So tonight, I pray that you know the Baby as well as He knows you;. that you know that the Creator of the Universe, who became a helpless babe, came into His creation to restore us from our helpless estate.

Amen.

luxury.

I have four minutes before I should walking out my door for work. That means I have four minutes to enjoy luxury. Luxury of what? I could sit in silence. I could read for a few minutes. I have chosen to write about absolutely nothing. I have four--two--minutes of Sabbath. And Lord knows I need them and will enjoy them.
Sabbath has been on my mind lately; wondering when or if I'll ever make myself have one. It's the commandment that God spent the most words explaining in his Covenant with us. It's the one things we've struggled with since the Fall: How do we not do anything? Of course that's not the point of Sabbath. It's, to me, a day to reflect, a day to unproductive, but that doesn't always mean doing nothing. The greatest moments where I'm reeling in what God is doing and reflecting and relaxing are among people. Among God's people.
I've come to understand Sabbath, not a luxury but a commandment, is a luxury only because we've never done it. And I'm convinced it goes beyond just relaxing. I can enjoy Sabbath at a movie, or enjoying food and fellowship, or recording music, or doing this blog.
And I'm two minutes overtime, just when I might have had something to say. See? Work always wins.

In a Word

As we concluded our series at church in Ephesians it struck me how often we came back to the same topic: How do you sum up the word love? We had varied answers, all of them correct. It is an emotional feeling. It is a noun. It is a verb. It is sacrifice. It is God. It is hard.

In chapter three, Paul prays for the church in Ephesus. He says, "14 For this reason I kneel before the Father, 15 from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. 16 I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God." Here, love surpasses knowledge. It goes beyond just knowing and feeling and furthermore it fills us with God. Love is outwardly expressed and inwardly felt. It dwells within so we are never without.

The letter goes on to describe what it means to live in the light of Christ: to confess sin, to live not as the Gentiles do "in the futility of their thinking" (v. 4:17) Paul even talks about putting away the old self that didn't know God and embracing the new creation He has made you into. He says it starts with the attitude of your mind. So love is thought driven.

He then goes on in the chapter five to give us real life examples of what this love is. He puts it in the context of husband and wife, parent and child, and slave and master. Love is sacrifice and submission in all of these things. The husband, the parent, and the master (of whom we can think of as a boss in our culture) all have the jobs of loving like Jesus; giving up their own lives for the lives of the ones they are to care for. If they are to do this, then those submitting to that love should have no problem agreeing to it. The thing is, those charged with loving like Christ don't. When that happens, we can't respect those we are in submission to. It doesn't make sense. Thankfully Paul, inspired by the Holy Spirit, knew this. This is why he concludes his letter about love with talking about the armor of God.

Why do we wear armor? It's not to go hang out at a friends house. It's not to go play with puppies (depending on the puppy). It's to go to war. It's because we know the battle we are entering is dangerous and we're going to get hurt. Love. Is. Dangerous. But with the right preparation, it's a battle worth fighting. Even more, a battle we called to fight. After all that love does to you, after all who have abused it, after all who have used it to solidify their own agenda, we are to take up our armor and when evil corrupts love we can stand our ground and "after having done all, to stand." (v. 5:13)







I learned early on in dating Jill that she loves words. Not just words, but how they look. When we went to places to eat she would point out to me what font our menus were in. I found the same to be true of her dad. Get them together, and they will look at the typescript and tell you whether it's of an acceptable standard. But how could how a word looks tell you so much about the word? I just didn't get it. Then I read the opening to John and understood:




14 The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.




That sums it up.

"I have sinned"

You know what I like? Not a lot. At least not at the moment. I've understood in these last few weeks how easy it is to really let life bring you down. Maybe even to know what it's like for God to bring you down. Maybe I'm writing this because I'm angry. Maybe I'm writing it because I'm the only one who will gain anything out of it -- and I'm okay with that.

I suck at a lot of things. I sin a lot. I think terrible things a lot. I hate people a lot. I hate myself a lot. I fail at coming anywhere close to Godliness. I violate a lot of God's laws. Pretty much all my limbs should be cut off by now, according to Jesus' standards. I struggle with pride. I struggle with wanting to be the smartest person you know. I struggle with secretly wanting to be liked while I tell everyone I don't care what they think about me. I hide behind humor. I don't like eating in front of people, in fear of being judged. Sometimes I'm afraid even that's a sin.

 This week I've been reading through I and II Samuel. They're my favorite of the Hebrew Scriptures. Saul.. he's funny. The first king of Israel had such a good start, and then he took his eyes off God. He lusted, got prideful, got jealous, gave in to beliefs that were not rooted in Yahweh and it got him into some pretty rough places. But what strikes me most is his ability to confess his sins. Saul more than any other person in the Bible says "I have sinned." The difference between his confession and other's is that while he did confess, Saul never sought penitence. He never changes. He just constantly admits he's wrong and does nothing to stand before God and be transformed by His grace. I don't want to just list my sins. I want to change from them. I want the to seek God like the successor of Saul: David. David screwed up a lot. He wandered far from God, but came back to Him a changed man. He wanted God's heart to be his own.

 The other thing that struck me about Saul is Samuel's reaction to him. Towards the end of Samuel's life, Saul sins yet again. He admits it, and Samuel invites him to participate in an offering to God -- even letting Saul lead the worship. It's a much debated thing whether Samuel did the right thing, but I think he did. Yes, he let a man who sins constantly and never changes lead worship. He knew full well Saul probably wouldn't change this time. So why let him lead? Grace. Hope. We who bear the Light of Christ are to let God transform people. Sometimes that might mean letting people we think unworthy (and who are we to think such things) to lead us to God. Sounds backwards doesn't it? I don't think I fully understand the lesson. But I see beauty in it, anyway.  Unlike Saul, I want to change my ever fleeting heart. I hope those who see me unworthy will show me the same grace Samuel showed Saul. I hope I can do the same to others.

 Father, I have sinned. Change me.

The Know-It-All: a review and experience

I recently read an amazing and, well, informative book. It was called "The Know-It-All: One man's humble quest to become the smartest person in the world", by A.J. Jacobs (http://ajjacobs.com/books/kia.asp) I highly recommend this book, especially if you're as much of as a nerd as me that needs to know everything about anything. But even if you're not, Jacobs is hilarious in his insights and sometimes uncomfortably honest about how some of things he reads applies to himself or those closest to him.
You see, like Jacobs, I grew up thinking I was pretty smart. Although, he thought he was the smartest boy in the world. I wasn't quite there, but I took pride in my ability to obtain information. Lots of information.. mostly useless information. I never sat down and wanted to read the entire Encyclopedia Britannica in a year, but to each his own. This was the quest A.J. Jacobs set himself upon in order to become the smartest person in the world.
I first read a book of his called "The Year of Living Biblically" and really, really enjoyed it. Jacobs being an atheist (who was raised Jewish) he takes on the Bible's commandments as literally as possible. Even the stoning adulterers part. Oh yes, he did. In the midst of the book he mentions The Know It All as inspiration for the Year of Living Biblically. Not only did he love learning about Ecclesiastes, but it also trained him for a mass amount of reading in a short time. I became interested then in The Know It All. (but you should read The Year of Living Biblically, too).
There's tons of information I learned about that I never knew, or wanted to know. But being a seeker of knowledge, I soaked it up whether it interested me or not. Speaking of which, that was one of my favorite quotes from the book. He interviews the host of Jeopardy, Alex Trebek, and asks him about what knowledge means to him. His answer: "I love knowing everything, even things that don't interest me." Everyday it seemed I had about five facts I just had to share with someone (mostly Jill, God bless her) and I found myself, like the author, needing to put this random information into normal conversation. Let me tell you how that was met: with silence. And awkwardness. But I felt a little proud at the same time that I was retaining so much and it came to my mind so quickly.
It's been a week now without the Know It All. Jill I think is happy. I'm suffering a little. It's hard to stop cold turkey with this thing. My solution has been to go the 1911 edition of the Britannica, http://www.1911encyclopedia.org/Main_Page , and just read random articles. Jacobs describes this edition as the most valued for the way it's written, and all that was going on while it was being written. It was right after the enlightenment, technology hadn't quite taken over the world, and overall people had a very black and white point of view. There was really one worldview that was accepted; a vast difference from our world today. While I realize all the flaws of the 1911 edition, I also value the insight it gives to the culture of it's time.
And that, I think, it was I gained most out of The Know It All. An appreciation for knowledge, or lack of it, and understanding what our culture views as important knowledge.
Give it a read.

Broken doesn't mean I'm broke

Just a few nights ago Jill and I sat on a bench in her backyard. We had decided to go for a walk, and leave Angie watching Cosby. We needed a walk. It was a long, draining, tear filled day. I think my eyes have leaked more in the last couple weeks than in my entire life. But this night a new feeling had entered my spirit. For whatever reason in the last few weeks I've taken great care and lengths to make sure I'm pleasing others. I know that doesn't sound impressive, but I usually don't care what other think. I'm okay with God, not where I'd like to be for sure, but always stretching to grow.
First I got angry. Part of that still remains, but most of it has faded into apathy. Truth be told, that may be more dangerous than anger. At least with anger you're prone to be active. But nevertheless, this new feeling took over and it was good.
It was fear.
Fear can be such a volatile thing when misdirected. Unfortunately, it's most always misdirected. Believe you me, no one knows fear more intimately than I. I let it dictate a majority of my decisions, and suffer in existence rather than life. But earlier in the day a passage from Luke entered my mind. From the mouth of Jesus, “I tell you, my friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body and after that can do no more. But I will show you whom you should fear: Fear him who, after the killing of the body, has power to throw you into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him.”
Oh, the fear! The beauty! This fear reveals and comforts. Why do I fear what people think? They can only kill me! They can only make me feel broken, ah, but I am not broke. Only God can break me. Only God gets to judge my actions and determine whether I'm His.
But this is scary, too. It's a riptide pulling you under into it's fear but all the while feeling the peace of the quiet and the comfort of the ocean; you know you might die, but you feel okay about going this way. When the tide lets you free to breathe, you almost want to go back to drowning. Almost. It's a freedom of clarity in that moment that only fear of your Maker can give.
This knowledge is something I hope not to forget. Man can only kill my flesh but God will kill everything else. You can only make me feel broken, but God actually breaks me.
At the end of this passage in Luke 12, it says starting at verse 11: "When you are brought before synagogues, rulers, and authorities, do not worry about how you will defend yourselves or what you will say, for the Holy Spirit will teach you at that time what you should say."
As we sat on that bench, I shared my new feeling with Jill. It brought a peace to us both, I think. If we fear God, we fear nothing because He can take everything.
God, give me words at that time so that I can speak in Your name. Don't let me dwell on what I would like to say, or how I would like to defend myself, but let me have Your heart and speak with Your grace. Allow me the courage to say it all then, and not after the fact when I've let my fear of perception overtake me. I'm Yours. Amen.

stones

I went to church tonight, already having some weighty things on my mind. I took on the usual thought process that most of us take on with church: Leave my problems at the door, and worship God. But I realized this morning at my other church what a miserable idea that is. The problem with that mentality is that I pick up those issues when I go back out the door, and I usually try handling them on my own. Well, that fails every time. Yet, I'm like the dog in Proverbs 26:11 that returns to his own vomit. I constantly try to succeed (and fail) on my own merit. But friends, this is not what we're called to.
The message tonight was a really good one on getting over yourself. Hear it http://www.ustream.tv/channel/epicenter-church there when they get it up. Or listen to any of the other sermons on James. They have been the most challenging messages I've heard in a while. Tonight's hit me particularly hard because of the weight of leading. We talked about how leaders are judged more harshly, which is true, and not just in a church setting. Last week I was told some things, be it second and third hand, about some things said about me that very much stung. Things involving my morality, spirituality, and overall character. Now, I'm not one for gossip and I'm not one for second hand talk and I'll talk with these people when I get over being angry. But the weight of knowing that God called me to be a leader in His Church compounded with these things I heard last week just broke me. I don't know that I'm fit to lead.
I don't cry. It's not how my body reacts to things. Except for tonight. I don't know where it came from. Maybe a fear that everyone is right. Maybe a fear that I'm not being as honest as I should be with myself.
I don't know.
And that was the hard, but beautiful thing to accept tonight. I don't know. I don't know what I don't know. For a guy who is so intent on knowing everything and fixing everything, to not know what's going on in my own head is torture.
Also, I don't care what people think of me. I really don't. I know it's one of those cliche things people say to sound cool or whatever but I really don't care. I've always known I try my best to live as God wants me to. I try to have integrity. I try to follow where He leads so that I know where to lead others. So what others thought was not relevant to me. But this last week all I can do is think how to please others. The thoughts of trying to glorify God have faded and are replaced with the need to try to please everyone else; to get them to like me. I was fine with God.. it's when people started tearing me down that I started distancing myself from Him. Which is ironic because they caused the very thing they falsely accused me of.
So then, what do you do when you feel like you're close to God.. trying to live His love out (and sometimes failing at it) but those closest don't believe you? Is it because it's not evident in my life? Am I really not that close to God? Am I lying to myself? I don't think I am. But how do you confront those things? I feel like I've loved on these people and they just don't see it. Makes me want to give up. But then, should I expect them to see it? Isn't that what Nick was talking about tonight in relation to God? We expect God to give us what we want just because we love Him back. I know I shouldn't have expectations in love. I should just love.
But I can't. I expect too much.
Really, either confront me or drop your stones and leave.

Father,
Heal my pride and help me understand all this. I don't remember even two weeks ago what it was like to not care what others thought of me. I don't know where this need to have people like me came from. I know I should probably learn to be more caring, and there's probably a middle ground I'm missing somewhere but there's got to be a better way to teach me this. I just want to be happy again. I'm tired of feeling like a failure. I've been blessed, and I want to enjoy those blessings, God. But I don't know what I'm doing. I don't want to bring anyone down but I don't want to be brought down either. I want to encourage, and be encouraged.
I love you, Jesus.
Amen.