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.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Saturday, December 17, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
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.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
"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.
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.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, June 27, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, June 20, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Two different thoughts on the same thing.
I'm not sure what spawned the conversation, but for just a few minutes last night Coley and I had a conversation, almost in passing, that should be passed on. For some reason or another butterflies were brought up. I told Coley they were my favorite way of thinking about how God changes us.
We're told in Scripture that, "17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come:[a] The old has gone, the new is here!" (2 Corinthians 5:17. Nothing, in my mind, depicts this better than a butterfly. It starts as a caterpillar, a sluggish little thing that goes about its day serving it's purpose. It does have a purpose, for sure. We all have reasons we're here long before we accept Christ. Everything that little caterpillar does is in preparation for a cocoon.
It now curls itself up, makes it home to transform, and waits. Who knows what goes on in that cocoon to make the caterpillar into a butterfly. It's a marvel in and of itself. But then the butterfly breaks free! It is nothing like it's old self. It even goes by a different name. It moves different. It eats different. It protects itself differently. And here's the kicker for me: It can't go back. No matter how hard the butterfly tries, it can never take on the form of a caterpillar ever again. It doesn't do anything that even resembles it's old life.
In the same way when we take on living for Jesus, we become a new creation. Everything changes, and we can never go back. And really, who would want to? Once you've experienced that freedom and grace of a butterfly, why would you want to return to a caterpillar?
I have an odd tree outside my house. We planted it when I was young, maybe a couple years old, and for years it was just a lemon tree. It grew to be huge, overshadowing most other things in our yard. It became a landmark for people: "It's the house next to the one with the huge lemon tree out front". Then something funny happened about five years ago. To our amazement, it started producing other food. It was now our lemon-grapefruit-orange tree. Why did this just now happen? Is that even possible; well it must be because I see it. God chose to wait all these years to let that fruit finally come out. We enjoyed it for these last few years, as did our neighbors. Unfortunately, a storm this last winter tore the tree apart. It's now shriveled, bare, and producing nothing. Despite our care to it, it still looks pretty sad. Green leaves are finally starting to show promise, though.
Isn't this too how God works? He waits years sometimes for us to bear new fruit, good fruit, and then a storm strips us of everything we bore. But now it, too, is a new creation. It's something it never sought out to be, and it's growing in it's new roots. I hope I can say the same after a storm has rocked me. After the anger with God fades for stripping me, after the confusion of why He does what He does, or questioning that there had to have been a million other ways to make His point but that way... May I grasp my new roots, and start to show promise, too.
We're told in Scripture that, "17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come:[a] The old has gone, the new is here!" (2 Corinthians 5:17. Nothing, in my mind, depicts this better than a butterfly. It starts as a caterpillar, a sluggish little thing that goes about its day serving it's purpose. It does have a purpose, for sure. We all have reasons we're here long before we accept Christ. Everything that little caterpillar does is in preparation for a cocoon.
It now curls itself up, makes it home to transform, and waits. Who knows what goes on in that cocoon to make the caterpillar into a butterfly. It's a marvel in and of itself. But then the butterfly breaks free! It is nothing like it's old self. It even goes by a different name. It moves different. It eats different. It protects itself differently. And here's the kicker for me: It can't go back. No matter how hard the butterfly tries, it can never take on the form of a caterpillar ever again. It doesn't do anything that even resembles it's old life.
In the same way when we take on living for Jesus, we become a new creation. Everything changes, and we can never go back. And really, who would want to? Once you've experienced that freedom and grace of a butterfly, why would you want to return to a caterpillar?
I have an odd tree outside my house. We planted it when I was young, maybe a couple years old, and for years it was just a lemon tree. It grew to be huge, overshadowing most other things in our yard. It became a landmark for people: "It's the house next to the one with the huge lemon tree out front". Then something funny happened about five years ago. To our amazement, it started producing other food. It was now our lemon-grapefruit-orange tree. Why did this just now happen? Is that even possible; well it must be because I see it. God chose to wait all these years to let that fruit finally come out. We enjoyed it for these last few years, as did our neighbors. Unfortunately, a storm this last winter tore the tree apart. It's now shriveled, bare, and producing nothing. Despite our care to it, it still looks pretty sad. Green leaves are finally starting to show promise, though.
Isn't this too how God works? He waits years sometimes for us to bear new fruit, good fruit, and then a storm strips us of everything we bore. But now it, too, is a new creation. It's something it never sought out to be, and it's growing in it's new roots. I hope I can say the same after a storm has rocked me. After the anger with God fades for stripping me, after the confusion of why He does what He does, or questioning that there had to have been a million other ways to make His point but that way... May I grasp my new roots, and start to show promise, too.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Proposals
Maybe it's because I got engaged last week, but as I read the story of the Passover meal (as I had to write a paper about it) I was struck by the proposal of it. I'll just simply post my paper:
The Jewish people had been saved from Pharaoh's grip so many generations ago, but here they were again entrapped by Rome's ruthless hands. Even in this oppression the Jews had continued the traditions that Moses started those many years ago. One of the most significant of those traditions was the Passover meal.
Jesus had arrived in Jerusalem despite the threats against His life and told His disciples to go and prepare for the Passover meal. He knew this would be the finale of His ministry. It would be the meal that His disciples would later reflect on and say, “Oh, that's what He was talking about.” It tied everything in, so to speak.
The Gospel of John is the lengthiest of the accounts, and also one of my favorites. In chapter thirteen, Jesus prepares for the Passover feast and the first thing He decides to do is “show the full extent of His love.” (1:1) How amazing it is that it's not here where Jesus dies to show the full extent of love. No! It is here that Jesus wraps a towel around His waits, grabs a basin of water, and washes His friends' feet. Peter feels unworthy, and really He should. This is the one task that even slaves were allowed to decline doing for their masters. And here! Here was the Master of the Universe before him washing his feet without question, without even asking; as if this was a common thing you were supposed to do for your friends.
The other thing that strikes me about this account is how Jesus refers so strongly to His leaving, and the disciples just not getting it. Jesus must have seen looks of sadness creep over their faces because in chapter fourteen He comforts them. But there's history to these comforting words. Starting in verse two He says, “In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may also be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.”
We all may have heard this passage at some point but what I've learned about it changed the way I view it. This was the common Jewish proposal speech. There would be a dinner where all the couple's friends and family would be and the man would pass the woman a glass of wine – if she drank of it, it was a yes – and then he would return to his father's house and build an extra room for his new family. So you see, these houses were built with many rooms from many generations. After he built this room he would return to the fiance's house and say this very passage that Jesus quotes. The Passover meal just turned into a proposal. We are to be as intimate with Jesus as we are with our spouses. We are to love Jesus day in and day out and give our lives to Him as He gave His life for us.
Jesus isn't someone we spend time with on Sunday mornings, or even just in our “God time” in our days. He is someone we are to invest in life with. If we spent as much time with our spouses as we did with Jesus the divorce rate would be much higher than it already is. I suppose I should speak for myself. I don't spend as much time with Jesus as I should. I don't take this proposal seriously. The Passover meal – Communion – should be viewed as a renewal of our vows to Jesus. It should be a reminder that the God of Creation loved me enough to want to spend the rest of eternity with me and sacrificed His very life to buy my life of sin.
The Jewish people had been saved from Pharaoh's grip so many generations ago, but here they were again entrapped by Rome's ruthless hands. Even in this oppression the Jews had continued the traditions that Moses started those many years ago. One of the most significant of those traditions was the Passover meal.
Jesus had arrived in Jerusalem despite the threats against His life and told His disciples to go and prepare for the Passover meal. He knew this would be the finale of His ministry. It would be the meal that His disciples would later reflect on and say, “Oh, that's what He was talking about.” It tied everything in, so to speak.
The Gospel of John is the lengthiest of the accounts, and also one of my favorites. In chapter thirteen, Jesus prepares for the Passover feast and the first thing He decides to do is “show the full extent of His love.” (1:1) How amazing it is that it's not here where Jesus dies to show the full extent of love. No! It is here that Jesus wraps a towel around His waits, grabs a basin of water, and washes His friends' feet. Peter feels unworthy, and really He should. This is the one task that even slaves were allowed to decline doing for their masters. And here! Here was the Master of the Universe before him washing his feet without question, without even asking; as if this was a common thing you were supposed to do for your friends.
The other thing that strikes me about this account is how Jesus refers so strongly to His leaving, and the disciples just not getting it. Jesus must have seen looks of sadness creep over their faces because in chapter fourteen He comforts them. But there's history to these comforting words. Starting in verse two He says, “In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may also be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.”
We all may have heard this passage at some point but what I've learned about it changed the way I view it. This was the common Jewish proposal speech. There would be a dinner where all the couple's friends and family would be and the man would pass the woman a glass of wine – if she drank of it, it was a yes – and then he would return to his father's house and build an extra room for his new family. So you see, these houses were built with many rooms from many generations. After he built this room he would return to the fiance's house and say this very passage that Jesus quotes. The Passover meal just turned into a proposal. We are to be as intimate with Jesus as we are with our spouses. We are to love Jesus day in and day out and give our lives to Him as He gave His life for us.
Jesus isn't someone we spend time with on Sunday mornings, or even just in our “God time” in our days. He is someone we are to invest in life with. If we spent as much time with our spouses as we did with Jesus the divorce rate would be much higher than it already is. I suppose I should speak for myself. I don't spend as much time with Jesus as I should. I don't take this proposal seriously. The Passover meal – Communion – should be viewed as a renewal of our vows to Jesus. It should be a reminder that the God of Creation loved me enough to want to spend the rest of eternity with me and sacrificed His very life to buy my life of sin.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Death and Life have a name
I can't imagine what Peter must have felt that night. He wasn't there to watch Jesus die; no, he was hiding. He would hear later that John had to point Jesus out to His own mother, for that's how unrecognizable they had made Him. Peter would stand by a fire warming his hands, listening as just a hundred feet away they led Jesus to the courts. There weren't many out. It was the middle of the night, hardly a time for an arrest.
But this was no ordinary arrest.
They had brought in false witnesses to get an accusation but even their stories couldn't match up. Finally, the Chief Priest asked the Accused, "Are you the Son of God, the Christ?" Oh and it is here that Jesus finally decides to speak up. It was not when they were falsely accusing Him, it was not while they mocked Him. No. It was here where most people would have lied to save themselves. It is here where Jesus tells the truth to save us: "It is as you say." That was all they needed.
Peter watched as they led Him away to be tried, beaten, and eventually killed. He couldn't stand to watch. He denied even knowing Jesus. A sting of guilt, and maybe anger filled him. Anger at what? Himself? Jesus? Maybe both. Just a few hours ago he had told his Lord that he would die for him. He couldn't have known how bitter those words would become.
Judas was trustworthy. He was the treasurer. There's no better sign of trust among friends than giving all your money to one person and having faith they'll use it accordingly. Judas always wanted what was best. It was he who asked Jesus why he let the woman anoint Him with oil when it could have been used to sell and give money to the poor. Always money on his mind. Always looking at how to best use what he had. And Jesus, well, He didn't do the things Judas had expected. It had been three years and nothing had changed. Rome still ruled their lives. They were still oppressed, sometimes, he thought, more than his forefathers in Egypt ever were. This Messiah, the Christ, hadn't done a thing. Sure, He healed and had challenging teachings. He most definitely spoke with an authority no one had ever seen but for what? What was all that leading to? Maybe if he could get Jesus to take that leap. Maybe being arrested will make Him realize the revolution He needs to create.
He went to the religious leaders and they paid him thirty pieces of silver: a slave's wages. That felt about right to Judas, but he was convinced he was doing the right thing for the Jews. He knew Jesus could start a new Kingdom, like He always talked about, He just needed a push in the right direction.
Oh if only he had known...
That Saturday was the longest day for both of them. Peter hid. He might have fished. He might have walked by the tomb, saw that the stone was still there and wondered what he'd done with the last three years. Jesus had said something about rising in three days, but maybe it was just another parable. Who knew what Jesus meant at this point. Did it matter? The man was dead.
Judas felt terrible. He gave back his slave wages, gave away his hope, and gave up his life. If only he'd had more hope. Peter might have felt the same way, having betrayed Jesus in a different way. But he was too stubborn to admit Jesus was gone.
Then the tomb was empty. The women came to Peter excited, screaming even. They had lost their minds. If this was an attempt to make him feel better, he was going to be very angry. But they were right, the tomb was empty. He saw it for himself. Then Jesus found him on the lake, and he jumped out to him. Maybe he thought he could walk on water again, but there would be no way he would look away this time.
I can't imagine the joy that filled Peter. I know the end of the story. I know the resurrection is true; a proof of the death I deserve, and a proof of the life I have been given. And if it is true, then I can no longer take Jesus' words as just words. I can no longer take the radical, harsh, and sometimes plain crazy teachings He taught, and pick and choose what I'll follow. Now everything is valid. Everything is true.
"God made Him who knew no sin to be sin, so we might become the righteousness of God." (2 Corinth. 5:21) He who knew no sin BECAME sin for us. He was the wretched thing. He was nothing. He was human. He was death. We sin all the time and never experience the abandonment of God, but He did. Why? He WAS sin. He didn't just know it, He was it. He was the guilt and shame we only experience. All so we would become the righteousness of God. Ah! Not so we would be righteous in God's eyes; no, listen, we ARE the righteousness of God. In the same way He was made to BE sin, we were made to BE the righteousness of God. Amen.
But this was no ordinary arrest.
They had brought in false witnesses to get an accusation but even their stories couldn't match up. Finally, the Chief Priest asked the Accused, "Are you the Son of God, the Christ?" Oh and it is here that Jesus finally decides to speak up. It was not when they were falsely accusing Him, it was not while they mocked Him. No. It was here where most people would have lied to save themselves. It is here where Jesus tells the truth to save us: "It is as you say." That was all they needed.
Peter watched as they led Him away to be tried, beaten, and eventually killed. He couldn't stand to watch. He denied even knowing Jesus. A sting of guilt, and maybe anger filled him. Anger at what? Himself? Jesus? Maybe both. Just a few hours ago he had told his Lord that he would die for him. He couldn't have known how bitter those words would become.
Judas was trustworthy. He was the treasurer. There's no better sign of trust among friends than giving all your money to one person and having faith they'll use it accordingly. Judas always wanted what was best. It was he who asked Jesus why he let the woman anoint Him with oil when it could have been used to sell and give money to the poor. Always money on his mind. Always looking at how to best use what he had. And Jesus, well, He didn't do the things Judas had expected. It had been three years and nothing had changed. Rome still ruled their lives. They were still oppressed, sometimes, he thought, more than his forefathers in Egypt ever were. This Messiah, the Christ, hadn't done a thing. Sure, He healed and had challenging teachings. He most definitely spoke with an authority no one had ever seen but for what? What was all that leading to? Maybe if he could get Jesus to take that leap. Maybe being arrested will make Him realize the revolution He needs to create.
He went to the religious leaders and they paid him thirty pieces of silver: a slave's wages. That felt about right to Judas, but he was convinced he was doing the right thing for the Jews. He knew Jesus could start a new Kingdom, like He always talked about, He just needed a push in the right direction.
Oh if only he had known...
That Saturday was the longest day for both of them. Peter hid. He might have fished. He might have walked by the tomb, saw that the stone was still there and wondered what he'd done with the last three years. Jesus had said something about rising in three days, but maybe it was just another parable. Who knew what Jesus meant at this point. Did it matter? The man was dead.
Judas felt terrible. He gave back his slave wages, gave away his hope, and gave up his life. If only he'd had more hope. Peter might have felt the same way, having betrayed Jesus in a different way. But he was too stubborn to admit Jesus was gone.
Then the tomb was empty. The women came to Peter excited, screaming even. They had lost their minds. If this was an attempt to make him feel better, he was going to be very angry. But they were right, the tomb was empty. He saw it for himself. Then Jesus found him on the lake, and he jumped out to him. Maybe he thought he could walk on water again, but there would be no way he would look away this time.
I can't imagine the joy that filled Peter. I know the end of the story. I know the resurrection is true; a proof of the death I deserve, and a proof of the life I have been given. And if it is true, then I can no longer take Jesus' words as just words. I can no longer take the radical, harsh, and sometimes plain crazy teachings He taught, and pick and choose what I'll follow. Now everything is valid. Everything is true.
"God made Him who knew no sin to be sin, so we might become the righteousness of God." (2 Corinth. 5:21) He who knew no sin BECAME sin for us. He was the wretched thing. He was nothing. He was human. He was death. We sin all the time and never experience the abandonment of God, but He did. Why? He WAS sin. He didn't just know it, He was it. He was the guilt and shame we only experience. All so we would become the righteousness of God. Ah! Not so we would be righteous in God's eyes; no, listen, we ARE the righteousness of God. In the same way He was made to BE sin, we were made to BE the righteousness of God. Amen.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Old Entry
I posted this Nov. 6th, 2006:
It feels like all I've done lately is complain about things. I really have no right at all whatsoever to do so. I chose the path of integrity for a reason, and although it destroyed most of, or all, of what I thought was good in my life.. I'm still blessed. Last night was the ultimate example of this.
So Charlie and I went to Jack and the Box..it's become our favorite place when we realized it's open 24/7 and cheap. So anyway, we're at Jack and the Box before the Mae concert, just talking about everything going on in our lives. How crazy the last month has been for us, and how our situations are very much the same. We had reached the point where we hated integrity and what it had done to us. Truth be told, it's horrible. We felt like everything we had was stripped from us. Some friends, a relationship.
Then God got involved.
We're getting off the freeway at Congress and a homeless man is standing there with his cardboard sign. I felt the need to give him some money so I reach in my back pocket, but the light turned green and cars were honking at me so I told the man "Stay there, I'll be right back." I turned into the Circle K right there and told charlie we're gonna go over there and give him a few bucks. We rushed out of the car and started walking out of the gas station when a man's car broke down right there because he was out of gas. So we offered to help him push his car into the gas station. It was something small, but we knew that God had placed us there in that moment for that reason.
So then we walked across the street to the other side of the freeway where the man we saw was ready to beat up another homeless man, and his wife was trying to stop it. Charlie and I just said, "hi." and it ceased. The other man walked off. We gave like 5 bucks to the man, and said God Bless. His wife was thankful just that we showed up "to break up the fight". So at this point Charlie and I are just like...we're on God's timing now. Just in span of a couple minutes we were used to push a car, provide money, "break up a fight", and then we talked to the other man that was involved in the fight. It was so humbling. It seems small, and a much smaller deal than I'm building it up to be. But had you been there with Charlie and I...you just felt God doing His thing.
Our problems were just gone. Worthless. Every person we encountered that night God had used us in some way. Money, fellowship, labor. Something. We talked to many other people as well. Because I'm dumb and in the rush of getting out of the car I locked the keys in the car. But even that God used. The man we'd helped move the car didn't have money to fill up some gas. I didn't have my wallet on me. It was in the car. I just took the few bucks I needed for the homeless man. Charlie dug in his pockets and came up with a few bucks in change for the man. It must have been enough to get him where he needed to go next because he left.
Point is, I'm no longer on my timing. God slapped me in the face last night through humility and grace. He was showing me, once again, that His path is rough no matter where you're at, but it's abundant. I can honestly say I'm absolutely miserable right now, but I've never been more thankful to be miserable.
thank You
It feels like all I've done lately is complain about things. I really have no right at all whatsoever to do so. I chose the path of integrity for a reason, and although it destroyed most of, or all, of what I thought was good in my life.. I'm still blessed. Last night was the ultimate example of this.
So Charlie and I went to Jack and the Box..it's become our favorite place when we realized it's open 24/7 and cheap. So anyway, we're at Jack and the Box before the Mae concert, just talking about everything going on in our lives. How crazy the last month has been for us, and how our situations are very much the same. We had reached the point where we hated integrity and what it had done to us. Truth be told, it's horrible. We felt like everything we had was stripped from us. Some friends, a relationship.
Then God got involved.
We're getting off the freeway at Congress and a homeless man is standing there with his cardboard sign. I felt the need to give him some money so I reach in my back pocket, but the light turned green and cars were honking at me so I told the man "Stay there, I'll be right back." I turned into the Circle K right there and told charlie we're gonna go over there and give him a few bucks. We rushed out of the car and started walking out of the gas station when a man's car broke down right there because he was out of gas. So we offered to help him push his car into the gas station. It was something small, but we knew that God had placed us there in that moment for that reason.
So then we walked across the street to the other side of the freeway where the man we saw was ready to beat up another homeless man, and his wife was trying to stop it. Charlie and I just said, "hi." and it ceased. The other man walked off. We gave like 5 bucks to the man, and said God Bless. His wife was thankful just that we showed up "to break up the fight". So at this point Charlie and I are just like...we're on God's timing now. Just in span of a couple minutes we were used to push a car, provide money, "break up a fight", and then we talked to the other man that was involved in the fight. It was so humbling. It seems small, and a much smaller deal than I'm building it up to be. But had you been there with Charlie and I...you just felt God doing His thing.
Our problems were just gone. Worthless. Every person we encountered that night God had used us in some way. Money, fellowship, labor. Something. We talked to many other people as well. Because I'm dumb and in the rush of getting out of the car I locked the keys in the car. But even that God used. The man we'd helped move the car didn't have money to fill up some gas. I didn't have my wallet on me. It was in the car. I just took the few bucks I needed for the homeless man. Charlie dug in his pockets and came up with a few bucks in change for the man. It must have been enough to get him where he needed to go next because he left.
Point is, I'm no longer on my timing. God slapped me in the face last night through humility and grace. He was showing me, once again, that His path is rough no matter where you're at, but it's abundant. I can honestly say I'm absolutely miserable right now, but I've never been more thankful to be miserable.
thank You
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Salt and Light: The Light
14 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.
I went on a missions trip to Los Angeles. We had stayed in Watts for a little over a week serving in all kinds of places. I could write a book about that week and all the things it taught me. One of the things that sticks clearly in my mind is one of the last days were there we were brought up to a mountain top near the Hollywood mountain. It was near sundown, and the mountain overlooked Hollywood, and downtown LA in the distance. It was beautiful -- except for one thing: the smog. As huge of a city as LA is, and as many lights as it has, it was kind of hard to see. So, a city on a hill cannot be hidden, but pollution makes it hard to see. I wondered if the same could be said of my life: "I know God is in there somewhere, but all I can really see is pollution."
Light does some amazing things. It reflects, it reveals, and it radiates. It is the only thing in the universe that is never ending. It also defies the laws of physics, for it bends like it shouldn't.
Jesus calls Himself the light of the world for those reasons, but He also calls us to be the light of the world. He will always be here, always leading with the light, constantly revealing who we really are and how to bend back to Him.
We are to shine with that same light. We are to love without limit, without pollution. We do not put it under a lamp stand.
There are usually two types of believers when it comes to "being the light". The first, which I admit to falling into, is the believer who would rather live by example than share a testimony. My favorite quote in the world is given by Mother Theresa: "Preach the Gospel at every opportunity. And if necessary, use words." I've always believed that just living the Gospel will radiate enough light for people to wonder where it's coming from.
The second is the believer who just wants to share their story. Their the ones you'll find in malls asking you awkward questions about salvation and sharing their story with you. Nothing wrong with that, and I've seen it work here and there. Personally, it creeps even me out and I'm on their team.
I think we're called to do both. I think shining your light, being the light, means you live in the light and you speak of your light. To leave one or the other out is letting the darkness creep in. There's a passage that speaks of this in Scripture. John 3: 9 This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. 20 Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed. 21 But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.
We cling to the dark out of fear of the light. Light exposes and reveals who we are and I don't know about you but for me that's terrifying. I'm a guy who does and thinks some shady stuff. To have that brought into the light? Forget it. My eyes will adjust to the dark. But this is what Jesus calls us to. This is what makes being a follower of Christ so hard. We are called to live completely in the open because Jesus died with His arms wide open. What does His death mean if I hide the things He's done with my life? Even the stuff I'm not proud of, God's working in it.
My challenge this week is to be more willing to be more genuine. God help me.
P.S. this is the alphabet would look like if Q and R were removed. Sorry, couldn't help throwing in Mitch Hedberg. But really, I got the chance to share of my life recently at church. I'll start by sharing it here: http://www.tucsonfriends.org/index.php?p=Media
The volume is extremely low. My dad had to wear headphones and turn it up all the way to hear it.
I went on a missions trip to Los Angeles. We had stayed in Watts for a little over a week serving in all kinds of places. I could write a book about that week and all the things it taught me. One of the things that sticks clearly in my mind is one of the last days were there we were brought up to a mountain top near the Hollywood mountain. It was near sundown, and the mountain overlooked Hollywood, and downtown LA in the distance. It was beautiful -- except for one thing: the smog. As huge of a city as LA is, and as many lights as it has, it was kind of hard to see. So, a city on a hill cannot be hidden, but pollution makes it hard to see. I wondered if the same could be said of my life: "I know God is in there somewhere, but all I can really see is pollution."
Light does some amazing things. It reflects, it reveals, and it radiates. It is the only thing in the universe that is never ending. It also defies the laws of physics, for it bends like it shouldn't.
Jesus calls Himself the light of the world for those reasons, but He also calls us to be the light of the world. He will always be here, always leading with the light, constantly revealing who we really are and how to bend back to Him.
We are to shine with that same light. We are to love without limit, without pollution. We do not put it under a lamp stand.
There are usually two types of believers when it comes to "being the light". The first, which I admit to falling into, is the believer who would rather live by example than share a testimony. My favorite quote in the world is given by Mother Theresa: "Preach the Gospel at every opportunity. And if necessary, use words." I've always believed that just living the Gospel will radiate enough light for people to wonder where it's coming from.
The second is the believer who just wants to share their story. Their the ones you'll find in malls asking you awkward questions about salvation and sharing their story with you. Nothing wrong with that, and I've seen it work here and there. Personally, it creeps even me out and I'm on their team.
I think we're called to do both. I think shining your light, being the light, means you live in the light and you speak of your light. To leave one or the other out is letting the darkness creep in. There's a passage that speaks of this in Scripture. John 3: 9 This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. 20 Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed. 21 But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.
We cling to the dark out of fear of the light. Light exposes and reveals who we are and I don't know about you but for me that's terrifying. I'm a guy who does and thinks some shady stuff. To have that brought into the light? Forget it. My eyes will adjust to the dark. But this is what Jesus calls us to. This is what makes being a follower of Christ so hard. We are called to live completely in the open because Jesus died with His arms wide open. What does His death mean if I hide the things He's done with my life? Even the stuff I'm not proud of, God's working in it.
My challenge this week is to be more willing to be more genuine. God help me.
P.S. this is the alphabet would look like if Q and R were removed. Sorry, couldn't help throwing in Mitch Hedberg. But really, I got the chance to share of my life recently at church. I'll start by sharing it here: http://www.tucsonfriends.org/index.php?p=Media
The volume is extremely low. My dad had to wear headphones and turn it up all the way to hear it.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Salt and Light: The Salt
Listening to Andrew Peterson the other day, as I do most days, got me thinking. There's a song on the Love and Thunder CD called "Let There Be Light" that talks about all of our different talents and how "we're the salt of the earth/ The music we make is the light of the world so let it shine". The second verse talks about all of his friends having different talents or vocations: "Aaron's a preacher, I play guitar, Jim he can tune up your Ford. Dave is law school for 800 years for the sake of the sick and poor."
Salt and light is something that's often talked about from a pulpit and it's been done so many times there can't be anything new to say on the subject, but I really like this passage. It's one of my favorite analogies for living the way Jesus intended us to.
The passage says this:
13 “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
14 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.
Now, salt has a lot of different uses. I once read that we will consume 29,000 pounds of salt in our lives. That's pretty ridiculous. But it's because salt is so good. It adds flavor. It was also used to preserve foods, and sometimes still is for some delivery companies. It's also used to keep icy and snowy roads safe to drive on. Wars have been waged, revolutions fought for the sake of salt. It's a benefit to our lives in most ways. In fact, there are an estimated 14,000 benefits of salt. On the other hand, have you ever rubbed salt in a wound? I have, just out of curiosity. I can assure you that it's one of the worst ideas you will ever have.
We have the opportunity to either flavor the world, make it better, purify it... or we can make it hurt like nothing else. We've all encountered Christians who either enhance your life, or makes you wonder why you hang out with Christians at all. I'm sure I've been both of those things.
The interesting thing is that Jesus asks if we loose our saltiness, can we get it back again? It's interesting because can salt really loose its saltiness? Only by one way: deluding it. If you add water to it, or any other chemical compound really, it will not have the same effect. It will still be salt, but it won't protect food the same way, or add flavor probably at all.
Don't delude yourselves. Too often, we justify Scripture to meet our needs. We water down what Jesus has to say so that it's easier to live by. This is not what Jesus wanted from us. His words are hard to sallow sometimes, but that's what iron sharpening iron means. We're not alone in this. We not a single grain of salt, we are together being the salt of the earth. Iron sharpening iron is not pretty; it's dangerous, and ugly. There's sparks and fire. But at the end, it's something beautifully created with a purpose by the Master.
And then there's light.
Salt and light is something that's often talked about from a pulpit and it's been done so many times there can't be anything new to say on the subject, but I really like this passage. It's one of my favorite analogies for living the way Jesus intended us to.
The passage says this:
13 “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
14 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.
Now, salt has a lot of different uses. I once read that we will consume 29,000 pounds of salt in our lives. That's pretty ridiculous. But it's because salt is so good. It adds flavor. It was also used to preserve foods, and sometimes still is for some delivery companies. It's also used to keep icy and snowy roads safe to drive on. Wars have been waged, revolutions fought for the sake of salt. It's a benefit to our lives in most ways. In fact, there are an estimated 14,000 benefits of salt. On the other hand, have you ever rubbed salt in a wound? I have, just out of curiosity. I can assure you that it's one of the worst ideas you will ever have.
We have the opportunity to either flavor the world, make it better, purify it... or we can make it hurt like nothing else. We've all encountered Christians who either enhance your life, or makes you wonder why you hang out with Christians at all. I'm sure I've been both of those things.
The interesting thing is that Jesus asks if we loose our saltiness, can we get it back again? It's interesting because can salt really loose its saltiness? Only by one way: deluding it. If you add water to it, or any other chemical compound really, it will not have the same effect. It will still be salt, but it won't protect food the same way, or add flavor probably at all.
Don't delude yourselves. Too often, we justify Scripture to meet our needs. We water down what Jesus has to say so that it's easier to live by. This is not what Jesus wanted from us. His words are hard to sallow sometimes, but that's what iron sharpening iron means. We're not alone in this. We not a single grain of salt, we are together being the salt of the earth. Iron sharpening iron is not pretty; it's dangerous, and ugly. There's sparks and fire. But at the end, it's something beautifully created with a purpose by the Master.
And then there's light.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
To fail is to succeed
You read that right. To fail, I've come to realize in the last few days, is to succeed.
I was raised in a home where failure wasn't just frowned upon, it wasn't an option. A phrase was drilled into me as a child: D.I.R.T.F.T. That is, Do It Right The First Time. In an attempt in some mind game, my parents repeatedly told me in eighth grade that I would never make it past the eighth grade. Despite my above average scores in aptitude and AIMS tests (math excluded) I actually had pretty poor grades all around. They were concerned, so made me want to feel the same concern. The problem was, I didn't. I was always sure I'd be successful; not only in school, but in most everything I attempted. It sounds cocky, I know, and that's because it is. I was a very cocky individual. It made life very easy for me back then. I was sure of myself and not much else mattered. (by the way, it worked and I graduated high school early and in the honor roll, despite sleeping though most classes)
Another little phrase I was taught growing up was "Say what you mean, and mean what you say". That's something I still hold close to my heart. The problem with that was they never said, "Say what you mean and mean what you say...within reason". So my mouth got me in a lot of trouble. A LOT of trouble. Another luxury of life: I didn't care. I justified it all by knowing I was speaking the truth. I was just saying what everyone else was thinking, but was too afraid to say. "Better is open rebuke than hidden love", Proverbs 27:5. It's still one of my favorites, and I took it to heart. Another horribly taken out of context justification for being a jerk.
Both of these things have led me to know that failing is okay; better than okay, it's true success. I've done so many things wrong the first time it's unbelievable. So much so that I've come to terms with knowing I probably won't get it anywhere near right the first time. Maybe not the second, or fourteenth.
But I'll keep trying. That's the success of failing.
I still have trouble taming my tongue. There are very few people who I'm unfiltered with these days. Which, to be completely honest, I don't know I feel about. While I've come strides from being the guy whose called a jerk on a daily basis and stopped counting how many people I've brought to tears with words, there's still a part of me that misses it. It was so much easier not to care. It was so much easier to just speak rather than have to think about how badly I'm going to offend someone.
But here's the kicker: In the last year or two I've cut ties from all the people who thought like I did. The people who encouraged me to be a jerk. And it feels wonderful. Relieving, even. So I had to take a step back and wonder, why? Is it because there's no pressure? Is it this disease I keep hearing about called a conscience? Or is it the people I've surrounded myself with? Have they changed me?
Yes, yes, yes, and yes.
All the times I've failed at biting my tongue, all the times I've screwed up friendships or relationships, classes, sermons, giving advice (be it warranted or not) have all contributed to the success I see now. To the change I see now.
I'll never get it down, not completely. I'll still make someone cry. Depending on the situation, I might even still feel good about it. The only thing I can promise is that I'll fail successfully. So friends, embrace your failures.
I was raised in a home where failure wasn't just frowned upon, it wasn't an option. A phrase was drilled into me as a child: D.I.R.T.F.T. That is, Do It Right The First Time. In an attempt in some mind game, my parents repeatedly told me in eighth grade that I would never make it past the eighth grade. Despite my above average scores in aptitude and AIMS tests (math excluded) I actually had pretty poor grades all around. They were concerned, so made me want to feel the same concern. The problem was, I didn't. I was always sure I'd be successful; not only in school, but in most everything I attempted. It sounds cocky, I know, and that's because it is. I was a very cocky individual. It made life very easy for me back then. I was sure of myself and not much else mattered. (by the way, it worked and I graduated high school early and in the honor roll, despite sleeping though most classes)
Another little phrase I was taught growing up was "Say what you mean, and mean what you say". That's something I still hold close to my heart. The problem with that was they never said, "Say what you mean and mean what you say...within reason". So my mouth got me in a lot of trouble. A LOT of trouble. Another luxury of life: I didn't care. I justified it all by knowing I was speaking the truth. I was just saying what everyone else was thinking, but was too afraid to say. "Better is open rebuke than hidden love", Proverbs 27:5. It's still one of my favorites, and I took it to heart. Another horribly taken out of context justification for being a jerk.
Both of these things have led me to know that failing is okay; better than okay, it's true success. I've done so many things wrong the first time it's unbelievable. So much so that I've come to terms with knowing I probably won't get it anywhere near right the first time. Maybe not the second, or fourteenth.
But I'll keep trying. That's the success of failing.
I still have trouble taming my tongue. There are very few people who I'm unfiltered with these days. Which, to be completely honest, I don't know I feel about. While I've come strides from being the guy whose called a jerk on a daily basis and stopped counting how many people I've brought to tears with words, there's still a part of me that misses it. It was so much easier not to care. It was so much easier to just speak rather than have to think about how badly I'm going to offend someone.
But here's the kicker: In the last year or two I've cut ties from all the people who thought like I did. The people who encouraged me to be a jerk. And it feels wonderful. Relieving, even. So I had to take a step back and wonder, why? Is it because there's no pressure? Is it this disease I keep hearing about called a conscience? Or is it the people I've surrounded myself with? Have they changed me?
Yes, yes, yes, and yes.
All the times I've failed at biting my tongue, all the times I've screwed up friendships or relationships, classes, sermons, giving advice (be it warranted or not) have all contributed to the success I see now. To the change I see now.
I'll never get it down, not completely. I'll still make someone cry. Depending on the situation, I might even still feel good about it. The only thing I can promise is that I'll fail successfully. So friends, embrace your failures.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The juice is worth the squeeze
Lately it feels my mind has been working overtime. Through I'm reluctant to say whether I'm getting paid for it. For the first time in a long time I've sat down to really write. I mean, doing the Advent postings (which I don't think I completely finished (my bad)) was nice but I haven't done any free writing in a while. I haven't come back to stories I started months ago, I haven't written new music. But that's changing.
The other night at work I had a story come in my mind. It was one I knew, but became so foreign. I wanted to tell a story I had experienced, but let someone else tell it. So I took a piece of paper and started writing at the cash register. Because really, what better inspiration is there than an empty store and the sound of the Pillow Pets commercial playing over and over...and over and over? Oh wait, that didn't help at all. But I did do some writing. And then I began thinking: What makes creativity flow? What was it in that moment of the creative juices flowing that created the need to squeeze it out?
So I ask you: All one of you that reads this (maybe two)what gets you going? What makes you sit, stand, dance up and down and topside and _________? Whatever it is that you do creatively? What does your motivation look like? What does your process look like?
I think I'm sad to admit mine is just random. I think too much about the words I'd like to form and the way I'd like to form them that I forget to just write. I lack true motivation. I love telling and hearing stories, but not enough apparently to keep inspired to just do it. And in the moments they come I crank it out and then re-read it the next day or a couple days later to see if I still like it. I mostly don't. Sometimes I do.
So, what about you?
The other night at work I had a story come in my mind. It was one I knew, but became so foreign. I wanted to tell a story I had experienced, but let someone else tell it. So I took a piece of paper and started writing at the cash register. Because really, what better inspiration is there than an empty store and the sound of the Pillow Pets commercial playing over and over...and over and over? Oh wait, that didn't help at all. But I did do some writing. And then I began thinking: What makes creativity flow? What was it in that moment of the creative juices flowing that created the need to squeeze it out?
So I ask you: All one of you that reads this (maybe two)what gets you going? What makes you sit, stand, dance up and down and topside and _________? Whatever it is that you do creatively? What does your motivation look like? What does your process look like?
I think I'm sad to admit mine is just random. I think too much about the words I'd like to form and the way I'd like to form them that I forget to just write. I lack true motivation. I love telling and hearing stories, but not enough apparently to keep inspired to just do it. And in the moments they come I crank it out and then re-read it the next day or a couple days later to see if I still like it. I mostly don't. Sometimes I do.
So, what about you?
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