Several years ago, Max Luxado wrote an amazingly tiny book entitled You Can Be Anything God Wants You to Be. I wish I'd read it in high school instead of college. The basic premise is that if you make a list of things that you enjoy doing (helpful, nice things, mind you) and things you are good it, anything that appears on both of those lists may or may not but probably could be a special 'purpose area' that God has gifted you with the gifts, tools and desire to pursue.
Tools. Desire. Opportunity.
I firmly believe when God has a purpose for our lives, He always gives us these three things to go with them. They don't always come at once, but they do come eventually. I'm heading to a world missions conference this weekend, so I'll use that as an example here. If you're single and out of school with a desire to travel, I'd say you've got opportunity and desire, so let's start praying about tools like training and financial support. On the other hand, if you've been given lots of money and the opportunity to travel, but you get no joy from evangelism or going new places, maybe we should reconsider whether that's truly your purpose right now. Key words: right now.
So while we're talking here, grab some paper and a pen and make those two lists: things you enjoy and things you are good at. It certainly helped me figure out what was in my tool kit. What also helped was that I took a year off between college and graduate school. The habit of thoughtfulness and self-reflection that filled that year have become familiar lenses through which I view my life these days and I've learned a few things as a result.
First, some tools you don't realize you have until someone forces you to use them. By the same token, some tools you don't realize you're missing until you try to use them. Looking back, this was my problem. I spent a lot of time in college trying to use tools I didn't have. I jumped the gun. I tried to accomplish things in my ministry and my relationships, even my relationship with God, for which I was completely unequipped. And now that a decent amount of time has passed, I realize that time is exactly what I needed. Nothing that I was doing could prepare me for what God had put on my heart to do, only He could.
When I'm uncertain about God's timing and His plan for this tool kit He's given me, I find a lot of encouragement in Esther. She had one impressive tool kit by the time she invited the king to dinner. God had given her the tools and the opportunity, but when at last she had the desire and courage, Esther 6 tells us she invited her two targets to dinner but couldn't quite get the words out. One of my favorite women alive, Beth Moore suggests that Esther was silent because Xerxes and Haman's relationship was not at a place that her words would have been effective if she had spoken them. She needed to wait. Some of us get our desire first and then the opportunity, but we have to wait on the tools. Right now I have a good friend in seminary who's had the desire for full-time ministry for several years now and praise the Lord, he's finally getting the tools. Personally, I find myself filled with desire and a belt-load of tools, but no opportunity...at least not yet.
So for everyone out there waiting for more tools, give it time and work on using the ones you have. For everyone looking down at their tool kit, their treasure chest, the collection of crowns they will eventually lay at the feet of the Heavenly Throne, I hope this new year will be one of patient waiting and intentional sharpening. For both parties, God has given each of us the tools we need for now and He will give us the tools for our future when we need them as well. Using the tools you have now is having the faith of a mustard seed; if you don't use them now, you will never have what it takes to properly take care of that seed once it grows into a tree.
Wednesday, 20 January 2016
Tuesday, 12 January 2016
Joseph, Meet Puddleglum
Every artist has a muse. Whether they appear in photographs, lyrics, poetry or prose, people inspire us to declare our feelings (good or bad) through art as well as the written and spoken word. For C.S. Lewis, the character of Puddleglum in The Silver Chair was inspired by his gardener in Oxford. If Lewis's gardener was half as gloomy as Puddleglum (even his name is a downer), I'm not sure I would have cared to know him. However, there are a few shining moments of truth amidst Puddleglum's constant complaining. At the climax of the story, the main characters are forced to decide whether or not to free a seemingly wretched and insane prince, who is tied to (you guess it) a silver chair. On the one hand, they are ordered to free the prince by the story's Christ figure Aslan, but on the other, untying the prince could be extremely dangerous. Puddleglum's answer to this debacle is beautifully simple. "Aslan never said what would happen if we untied him," he says, "He simply told us to do it. So we will." After they untie the prince, the only victim of his wrath is the chair itself, which gets smashed to pieces. But for us, especially as we look ahead to a new year, Puddleglum's assessment poses an interesting and practical question.
If God told me to do something dangerous without a reason, would I still do it?
I've been mulling over this for a few weeks and decided to wait until after Christmas to post about it because the concept of passing time is one of my key points. During the Christmas season, we often forget that the decisions made by Mary and Joseph are four dimensional; they don't happen as quickly as you read them on the page. When we think about the roller coaster of emotions and planning (or lack thereof, in this case) that come with a full-term pregnancy, all kinds of new questions come up that, if we consider possible answers, can drastically affect how we understand the Christmas story.
I really want to focus on Joseph for now. He is betrothed to Mary when she gets pregnant. But for how long? How did they meet? Were they really in love or was it arranged? One of my biggest frustrations with Luke 2 is that it does not tell us how Joseph found out that Mary was pregnant, only that Gabriel told him to marry her anyway.
So, did Mary tell him or did he find out from someone else? Ummm, ouch. Neither one of those seem like good conversations for Joseph. While I personally favor the former, we cannot know for sure how he learned that the woman he loved was pregnant with a child that was not his. What we can probably imagine, though, is his confusion and hurt, perhaps even a touch of jealousy or loneliness.
What happens after Joseph and Mary both know? Well, they can't hide it very long. And pre-marital pregnancy was grounds for dismissal in their community. If Mary's parents kicked her out, where would she live until the baby was born? If Joseph's parents kicked him out, where would he live until the baby was born? And if both were kicked out, how did they support themselves?
We so often forget that by standing with Mary in her pregnancy, Joseph likely suffered extreme social rejection. Even if the child was not his, everyone would assume that he was the father. In a first century Jewish community, his status as a man, carpenter and 'faithful' Jew would all be questioned. He probably lost a lot of friends, not to mention family ties and probably a good portion of his clients. He could have been the best carpenter in the community, but if he takes a pregnant woman as his wife, what good Jew is going to buy from him? Moreover, when Mary and Joseph go to Bethlehem, they're in a town full of Joseph's extended family (it is, after all, his family's home turf), but they have to look for room in an inn, which tells me that his normally hospitable family doesn't let him sleep over. Right up to the moment Jesus is born, Mary and Joseph are as 'on their own' as we can imagine. And let's not kid ourselves into thinking that this social instability ends after Jesus is born. Even after Christmas, Joseph is still a father to a child that is not his and everybody knows it.
While Joseph's story has become so much more bleak to me this year, it also rings with a unique sense of hope. First of all, it is a huge testimony to his character and faith that he stayed with Mary. To me, it is simply unbelievable. If I were Mary, I would tell Joseph to divorce me. Now there's a thought; what if the divorce was Mary's idea? What if she loved him enough to tell him to go find someone else? I have no Biblical support for that, but it's an interesting thought. But let me get back to my point.
The key difference between Joseph and Puddleglum is that Aslan demanded complete obedience without knowing the purpose. Yet in Luke 2, Gabriel tells Joseph exactly why he must do this scary, confusing, lonely deed. Mary's baby is going to change the world and while He has a heavenly Father, he needs a Daddy. And Joseph was the man for the job. In probably far-too-simple terms, I like to think that Jesus learned how to be the God of the Universe from, well, God, but he learned how to be a good carpenter and a good man from Joseph. And let's not forget that Jesus spent several more years of his life being a good, kind, single man working as a carpenter than he did being a rabbi to 12 disciples.
If you're considering making any New Year's Resolutions, I hope you'll join me in really thinking and praying about them and putting off actually starting until February 1. After Christmas and New Years, everyone is still so caught up in shopping, food and travel that they make spur-of-the-moment resolutions they are unlikely to keep. This year, one of my main resolutions is to both remember and live out the truth that even if I feel I am in an uncomfortable situation, there is eternal hope in the baby that both Mary and Joseph raised. Indeed, God put them into possibly the most uncomfortable situation imaginable to bring His Son into the world. I guess that means we are in good company. Remember, God is not looking for the most able, He's looking for the most available.
If God told me to do something dangerous without a reason, would I still do it?
I've been mulling over this for a few weeks and decided to wait until after Christmas to post about it because the concept of passing time is one of my key points. During the Christmas season, we often forget that the decisions made by Mary and Joseph are four dimensional; they don't happen as quickly as you read them on the page. When we think about the roller coaster of emotions and planning (or lack thereof, in this case) that come with a full-term pregnancy, all kinds of new questions come up that, if we consider possible answers, can drastically affect how we understand the Christmas story.
I really want to focus on Joseph for now. He is betrothed to Mary when she gets pregnant. But for how long? How did they meet? Were they really in love or was it arranged? One of my biggest frustrations with Luke 2 is that it does not tell us how Joseph found out that Mary was pregnant, only that Gabriel told him to marry her anyway.
So, did Mary tell him or did he find out from someone else? Ummm, ouch. Neither one of those seem like good conversations for Joseph. While I personally favor the former, we cannot know for sure how he learned that the woman he loved was pregnant with a child that was not his. What we can probably imagine, though, is his confusion and hurt, perhaps even a touch of jealousy or loneliness.
What happens after Joseph and Mary both know? Well, they can't hide it very long. And pre-marital pregnancy was grounds for dismissal in their community. If Mary's parents kicked her out, where would she live until the baby was born? If Joseph's parents kicked him out, where would he live until the baby was born? And if both were kicked out, how did they support themselves?
We so often forget that by standing with Mary in her pregnancy, Joseph likely suffered extreme social rejection. Even if the child was not his, everyone would assume that he was the father. In a first century Jewish community, his status as a man, carpenter and 'faithful' Jew would all be questioned. He probably lost a lot of friends, not to mention family ties and probably a good portion of his clients. He could have been the best carpenter in the community, but if he takes a pregnant woman as his wife, what good Jew is going to buy from him? Moreover, when Mary and Joseph go to Bethlehem, they're in a town full of Joseph's extended family (it is, after all, his family's home turf), but they have to look for room in an inn, which tells me that his normally hospitable family doesn't let him sleep over. Right up to the moment Jesus is born, Mary and Joseph are as 'on their own' as we can imagine. And let's not kid ourselves into thinking that this social instability ends after Jesus is born. Even after Christmas, Joseph is still a father to a child that is not his and everybody knows it.
While Joseph's story has become so much more bleak to me this year, it also rings with a unique sense of hope. First of all, it is a huge testimony to his character and faith that he stayed with Mary. To me, it is simply unbelievable. If I were Mary, I would tell Joseph to divorce me. Now there's a thought; what if the divorce was Mary's idea? What if she loved him enough to tell him to go find someone else? I have no Biblical support for that, but it's an interesting thought. But let me get back to my point.
The key difference between Joseph and Puddleglum is that Aslan demanded complete obedience without knowing the purpose. Yet in Luke 2, Gabriel tells Joseph exactly why he must do this scary, confusing, lonely deed. Mary's baby is going to change the world and while He has a heavenly Father, he needs a Daddy. And Joseph was the man for the job. In probably far-too-simple terms, I like to think that Jesus learned how to be the God of the Universe from, well, God, but he learned how to be a good carpenter and a good man from Joseph. And let's not forget that Jesus spent several more years of his life being a good, kind, single man working as a carpenter than he did being a rabbi to 12 disciples.
If you're considering making any New Year's Resolutions, I hope you'll join me in really thinking and praying about them and putting off actually starting until February 1. After Christmas and New Years, everyone is still so caught up in shopping, food and travel that they make spur-of-the-moment resolutions they are unlikely to keep. This year, one of my main resolutions is to both remember and live out the truth that even if I feel I am in an uncomfortable situation, there is eternal hope in the baby that both Mary and Joseph raised. Indeed, God put them into possibly the most uncomfortable situation imaginable to bring His Son into the world. I guess that means we are in good company. Remember, God is not looking for the most able, He's looking for the most available.
Sunday, 6 December 2015
Advent Is A Season, Not A Day
My brother has angels. Everybody in my family knows this. If Mama, Daddy, Austin and I all got together and we had to vote on who in the group should probably be dead, it's him. We've all had our close calls, but he takes the cake. I won't tell you all the incidents in which his life has been unexplainably preserved (I probably don't actually know about all of them) but I will say they range from shop and farm accidents to motorcycle and car wrecks. We had a conversation a couple of weeks ago in which he said, "If I'm still alive today, it's not for lack of opportunity to be dead." The take-away from this is that there's a reason Austin has a legion of angels following him around. He has something really big ahead of him. I believe God has a special mission in mind for my little brother and I cannot wait to see what it is!
The Christmas season is officially here (hence the red font) and I want to challenge you all to start reading the Christmas story in Luke 1 instead of Luke 2. It's the only Gospel that offers us a glimpse of what it looks like to prepare and wait for the birth of Jesus. Some of the things you'll notice about this preparation are that
1. There's a really significant wait time. The Jews had received no spiritual revelation for almost 400 years. Think about that. That's about how much time passes between the Book of Genesis and the Book of Exodus. America is barely half that old.
2. There's a couple of faithful prayer warriors still barely clinging to hope. If you want to know what waiting on God without seeing Him looks like, ask Zachariah and Elizabeth. Esther and the Jews in Susa were not hearing from God directly, but at least there were other prophets in the world who were. Zachariah was a priest in the temple so one would think he'd have a direct line to Yahweh, but nobody was hearing from God anywhere. And
3. Bonus! There's even more angels in this story than we usually remember. In fact, Gabriel's pretty busy making house calls about babies. Heads up, ladies. If Gabriel shows up at your house, you're probably pregnant.
Today, I want to focus on the angels. I'm pretty convinced Gabriel and the heavenly host didn't make their birth announcements and then disappear into the sky. They stuck around. If my little brother has a legion of angels guarding his life, I can only imagine what sort of holy war must have been going on in the ten foot diameter surrounding Elizabeth, Mary and their children for the rest of their lives. But let me take this one step further; we know there were plenty of angels around after John and Jesus were born, but how often do we consider the angels that had to prepare Elizabeth and Mary for their special mission? Until recently, I've never even contemplated how many angels were contending for Elizabeth and Mary before they got pregnant. Mary was a young girl, but Elizabeth had reached old age by the time Gabriel told her husband that her prayers for a child were being heard. A lifetime is a long time to pray and not see fruit. I get frustrated when I don't see fruit after a couple of weeks, sometimes days. Yet Elizabeth (her name means 'God is abundant' by the way) knew her identity in Christ and never let go of that. I don't think she hung on alone.
Just like Elizabeth's waiting to see fruit from her prayers, revelation can take a long time to come. The church calendar only dedicates a few weeks to Advent; imagine waiting with that kind anticipation for years. But also like Gabriel's visit to Zachariah, once it comes, it can show up in a big way. Advent has been particularly special for me this year. I'm finally getting answers to some questions I've been trying to process since my baptism back in 2014. A lot of things came to light then and it's taken about two and half years for my eyes to adjust. As I go through my Advent devotionals, I'm learning that waiting, hoping and anticipating should always be directed at a person and not an outcome. When we put our trust in Jesus for a particular outcome like a job, a relationship, a new opportunity or freedom from an old mistake, we are in danger of making that trust contingent on us getting those things. I'm finally learning to trust Jesus period, not just trust Him to give me what I want. Starting this year, if I'm going to anticipate and long for something so much that it consumes my thoughts and dictates my decisions, I want it to be Jesus. Not a dream job in Virginia and not a husband.
I have to admit, this Christmas more than ever, I'm really thankful that Luke 1 is in the Bible and that I have Elizabeth to show me how to wait faithfully. I'm also really thankful that I have my brother around to remind me that angels are real.
P.S. For anyone interested in a new perspective on how angels (and demons) operate in our world, or for anyone who doubts for a single moment that there is a battle going on around us. I want to recommend a book by Frank Peretti called This Present Darkness. I admit, it's not very Christmas-y, but it will forever change how you view prayer, the other day-to-day tasks you perform every day and especially how you feel the next time your car won't start.
The Christmas season is officially here (hence the red font) and I want to challenge you all to start reading the Christmas story in Luke 1 instead of Luke 2. It's the only Gospel that offers us a glimpse of what it looks like to prepare and wait for the birth of Jesus. Some of the things you'll notice about this preparation are that
1. There's a really significant wait time. The Jews had received no spiritual revelation for almost 400 years. Think about that. That's about how much time passes between the Book of Genesis and the Book of Exodus. America is barely half that old.
2. There's a couple of faithful prayer warriors still barely clinging to hope. If you want to know what waiting on God without seeing Him looks like, ask Zachariah and Elizabeth. Esther and the Jews in Susa were not hearing from God directly, but at least there were other prophets in the world who were. Zachariah was a priest in the temple so one would think he'd have a direct line to Yahweh, but nobody was hearing from God anywhere. And
3. Bonus! There's even more angels in this story than we usually remember. In fact, Gabriel's pretty busy making house calls about babies. Heads up, ladies. If Gabriel shows up at your house, you're probably pregnant.
Today, I want to focus on the angels. I'm pretty convinced Gabriel and the heavenly host didn't make their birth announcements and then disappear into the sky. They stuck around. If my little brother has a legion of angels guarding his life, I can only imagine what sort of holy war must have been going on in the ten foot diameter surrounding Elizabeth, Mary and their children for the rest of their lives. But let me take this one step further; we know there were plenty of angels around after John and Jesus were born, but how often do we consider the angels that had to prepare Elizabeth and Mary for their special mission? Until recently, I've never even contemplated how many angels were contending for Elizabeth and Mary before they got pregnant. Mary was a young girl, but Elizabeth had reached old age by the time Gabriel told her husband that her prayers for a child were being heard. A lifetime is a long time to pray and not see fruit. I get frustrated when I don't see fruit after a couple of weeks, sometimes days. Yet Elizabeth (her name means 'God is abundant' by the way) knew her identity in Christ and never let go of that. I don't think she hung on alone.
Just like Elizabeth's waiting to see fruit from her prayers, revelation can take a long time to come. The church calendar only dedicates a few weeks to Advent; imagine waiting with that kind anticipation for years. But also like Gabriel's visit to Zachariah, once it comes, it can show up in a big way. Advent has been particularly special for me this year. I'm finally getting answers to some questions I've been trying to process since my baptism back in 2014. A lot of things came to light then and it's taken about two and half years for my eyes to adjust. As I go through my Advent devotionals, I'm learning that waiting, hoping and anticipating should always be directed at a person and not an outcome. When we put our trust in Jesus for a particular outcome like a job, a relationship, a new opportunity or freedom from an old mistake, we are in danger of making that trust contingent on us getting those things. I'm finally learning to trust Jesus period, not just trust Him to give me what I want. Starting this year, if I'm going to anticipate and long for something so much that it consumes my thoughts and dictates my decisions, I want it to be Jesus. Not a dream job in Virginia and not a husband.
I have to admit, this Christmas more than ever, I'm really thankful that Luke 1 is in the Bible and that I have Elizabeth to show me how to wait faithfully. I'm also really thankful that I have my brother around to remind me that angels are real.
P.S. For anyone interested in a new perspective on how angels (and demons) operate in our world, or for anyone who doubts for a single moment that there is a battle going on around us. I want to recommend a book by Frank Peretti called This Present Darkness. I admit, it's not very Christmas-y, but it will forever change how you view prayer, the other day-to-day tasks you perform every day and especially how you feel the next time your car won't start.
Sunday, 22 November 2015
Apology Unaccepted.
Today at church, I heard some beautiful words of wisdom from a woman named Kat Lee. Kat attends Antioch Community Church in Waco and for the last few years, she has written a blog for women entitled Hello Mornings. I strongly recommend it! While explaining the need for daily quiet time with God, Kat stressed the importance of starting small. "I am a model of low goals," she said, "I have never finished a Beth Moore Bible study, ever." Let me tell you ladies, hearing that from such a successful and kingdom-minded woman gave me some very real hope and encouragement. The main point is, starting small is still a start. She went on to say that talking to God for 30 seconds every morning often does more for our relationship with Him than a 3-hour 'prayer chunk' once a week. "What we do faithfully is a lot more significant than what we do sporadically."
So right there in my chair I made a list. What do I do faithfully? Here's what I came up with:
1. Cry. (Duh, I'm a woman, what did you expect)
2. Realize my mistakes and crawl back to God.
3. Dream of an adventure.
4. Dream of someone to share it with.
5. Realize I'm lonely & obsessed with finding said someone and crawl back to God.
6. Wonder if I'm beautiful.
7. Try to invest in my relationship with God, let it fizzle out and....crawl back to God.
At first, I took a lot of comfort from the fact that Numbers 3, 4 and 6 were straight out of Stasi and John Eldredge's definition of a woman in Captivating. But after I reread them, I laughed out loud. In church.
There's a lot of crawling here. And let's not forget Number 1.
Crawling and crying.
Yikes.
It's a good thing my God self-identifies as a Father.
I'm 110% confident I'm not the only one who is building, rowing and steering the ugly cry face boat. We all know that face, we all know that hurt. We all know what it's like to multi-task cry-face management with holiday shopping, dieting and taxes. And yet, when our aching, exhausted souls cry out to our Father, how often do our prayers begin with shame, with embarrassment, and feeling like we're taking up His time. God, I'm sorry, but I'm really hurting and I need you right now.
Let me go on the record and say that I think God takes personal offense when we pray that way. Honey, do not ever apologize for the way God made you. He made you to feel and love deeply, so don't apologize when you do. And it's not just our prayers, it's our everyday conversations. One of my favorite slam poetry performances includes a young woman who recognizes that all of her questions in math class begin with the words 'I'm sorry'. My friends, this should not be!
I'm on a mission to stop apologizing for who God made me.
I'm not going to apologize for disagreeing with you because God gave me an innovative mind and I intend to use it.
I'm not going to apologize for not understanding something, because He also reveals His wisdom in His perfect time.
I'm not going to apologize for needing to talk things out, because God made women in such a way that this is physiologically impossible.
I'm not going to apologize for asking you for too much information about your life, because women are unique vessels of His ridiculous compassion.
And I'm not going to apologize for realizing that I am worth more than the time someone else will not give me, because God told me so in His word.
Women apologize for these things all the time and yet at the heart of each apology, the God of the Universe is screaming at us No, I made you that way! Apology unaccepted!
So here's a thought. If we're going to be consistent, let's be consistent in our crawling, not our apologizing. I hope you can see the difference. The former moves us ever closer to the heart of our Maker. The later is nothing short of the audacity to criticize His handiwork.
So right there in my chair I made a list. What do I do faithfully? Here's what I came up with:
1. Cry. (Duh, I'm a woman, what did you expect)
2. Realize my mistakes and crawl back to God.
3. Dream of an adventure.
4. Dream of someone to share it with.
5. Realize I'm lonely & obsessed with finding said someone and crawl back to God.
6. Wonder if I'm beautiful.
7. Try to invest in my relationship with God, let it fizzle out and....crawl back to God.
At first, I took a lot of comfort from the fact that Numbers 3, 4 and 6 were straight out of Stasi and John Eldredge's definition of a woman in Captivating. But after I reread them, I laughed out loud. In church.
There's a lot of crawling here. And let's not forget Number 1.
Crawling and crying.
Yikes.
It's a good thing my God self-identifies as a Father.
I'm 110% confident I'm not the only one who is building, rowing and steering the ugly cry face boat. We all know that face, we all know that hurt. We all know what it's like to multi-task cry-face management with holiday shopping, dieting and taxes. And yet, when our aching, exhausted souls cry out to our Father, how often do our prayers begin with shame, with embarrassment, and feeling like we're taking up His time. God, I'm sorry, but I'm really hurting and I need you right now.
Let me go on the record and say that I think God takes personal offense when we pray that way. Honey, do not ever apologize for the way God made you. He made you to feel and love deeply, so don't apologize when you do. And it's not just our prayers, it's our everyday conversations. One of my favorite slam poetry performances includes a young woman who recognizes that all of her questions in math class begin with the words 'I'm sorry'. My friends, this should not be!
I'm on a mission to stop apologizing for who God made me.
I'm not going to apologize for disagreeing with you because God gave me an innovative mind and I intend to use it.
I'm not going to apologize for not understanding something, because He also reveals His wisdom in His perfect time.
I'm not going to apologize for needing to talk things out, because God made women in such a way that this is physiologically impossible.
I'm not going to apologize for asking you for too much information about your life, because women are unique vessels of His ridiculous compassion.
And I'm not going to apologize for realizing that I am worth more than the time someone else will not give me, because God told me so in His word.
Women apologize for these things all the time and yet at the heart of each apology, the God of the Universe is screaming at us No, I made you that way! Apology unaccepted!
So here's a thought. If we're going to be consistent, let's be consistent in our crawling, not our apologizing. I hope you can see the difference. The former moves us ever closer to the heart of our Maker. The later is nothing short of the audacity to criticize His handiwork.
Sunday, 8 November 2015
The Bar
A college friend and I recently discussed a double-standard we have encountered in our professional and personal lives. For the first twenty-five years of our lives, my generation has been encouraged to think for ourselves, be independent and shoot for the stars, but now that we are beginning to use that freedom and independence, many of those who wished it for us are expressing disappointment with the end result.
The examples are everywhere but I'll give you two. I know several people who have suffered severe breaks with their parents and grandparents because after years of going to youth retreats and Christian schools, their faith does not look exactly the way it did when they were children. What did they expect? I met a man a few months ago whose parents encouraged him to be open-minded and treat women well, but were extremely disappointed when he gave up football to work for a sex-trafficking awareness non-profit. Both of these groups of people are good, kind, compassionate people of integrity and I can't help but wonder, if they are a disappointment, what is the standard?
So I ask you, do we really want our friends, kids and spouses to reach the standard we set? It appears the parents I mentioned above might be second-guessing the prayers they prayed over their children in their cribs.
Let's take that one step further. Do we really want to reach the standard we set for ourselves? The perfect job, perfect relationship, perfect house? Because we all know we're not actually going to get them. Why do we demand so much of ourselves, only to be as unreasonably disappointed as parents who want open-minded children to never change? The Millennial generation is shooting themselves in the foot here and the solution isn't settling for less, it's appreciating what we have.
Growing up, everyone and his brother told us to set the bar high. I'm beginning to think there was an extreme miscommunication here. In this seemingly simple encouragement, my generation did not hear set, we heard high. I think the intended message was you set your own destiny, you create your future and no one else. But what we heard was, always aim high, anything less than the top is failure. This is very important. We learned that fame was more important than how we acquired it. As a result, we created a standard that makes us feel like we failed and leaves us with no understanding of how to properly recover or try again. And now that we're having kids, we give out ribbons for showing up so that they won't feel like failures the way we did.
I think we do the same thing to the Gospel. I once heard a pastor say that Americans are far better at adding to the Gospel, adding rules and standards, than they are at cheapening it. We are a nation built on overworking - for both our jobs and our salvation. To this, God says, "Why do you think I'm disappointed in you? I didn't create that rule for you, YOU did!" When we fail to meet the Gospel standard we created, no only are we convinced that we are bad people, we are convinced we are bad Christians. We are irretrievable and hopeless because, since our standard is so fluid and emotion-based, we have no idea how to recover and get back to a point of grace. But that's the beauty of grace - we don't have to get back to it. Rather than swing the pendulum back to a place where we are still working for it, we simply have to remember our Sonship and be thankful for what we most assuredly have.
Once we know our salvation is secure, maybe then we won't demand perfection in this life because we know it will only be found in the next.
The examples are everywhere but I'll give you two. I know several people who have suffered severe breaks with their parents and grandparents because after years of going to youth retreats and Christian schools, their faith does not look exactly the way it did when they were children. What did they expect? I met a man a few months ago whose parents encouraged him to be open-minded and treat women well, but were extremely disappointed when he gave up football to work for a sex-trafficking awareness non-profit. Both of these groups of people are good, kind, compassionate people of integrity and I can't help but wonder, if they are a disappointment, what is the standard?
So I ask you, do we really want our friends, kids and spouses to reach the standard we set? It appears the parents I mentioned above might be second-guessing the prayers they prayed over their children in their cribs.
Let's take that one step further. Do we really want to reach the standard we set for ourselves? The perfect job, perfect relationship, perfect house? Because we all know we're not actually going to get them. Why do we demand so much of ourselves, only to be as unreasonably disappointed as parents who want open-minded children to never change? The Millennial generation is shooting themselves in the foot here and the solution isn't settling for less, it's appreciating what we have.
Growing up, everyone and his brother told us to set the bar high. I'm beginning to think there was an extreme miscommunication here. In this seemingly simple encouragement, my generation did not hear set, we heard high. I think the intended message was you set your own destiny, you create your future and no one else. But what we heard was, always aim high, anything less than the top is failure. This is very important. We learned that fame was more important than how we acquired it. As a result, we created a standard that makes us feel like we failed and leaves us with no understanding of how to properly recover or try again. And now that we're having kids, we give out ribbons for showing up so that they won't feel like failures the way we did.
I think we do the same thing to the Gospel. I once heard a pastor say that Americans are far better at adding to the Gospel, adding rules and standards, than they are at cheapening it. We are a nation built on overworking - for both our jobs and our salvation. To this, God says, "Why do you think I'm disappointed in you? I didn't create that rule for you, YOU did!" When we fail to meet the Gospel standard we created, no only are we convinced that we are bad people, we are convinced we are bad Christians. We are irretrievable and hopeless because, since our standard is so fluid and emotion-based, we have no idea how to recover and get back to a point of grace. But that's the beauty of grace - we don't have to get back to it. Rather than swing the pendulum back to a place where we are still working for it, we simply have to remember our Sonship and be thankful for what we most assuredly have.
Once we know our salvation is secure, maybe then we won't demand perfection in this life because we know it will only be found in the next.
Sunday, 1 November 2015
Steroids.
Last Tuesday, I discovered a new level of feeling miserable when I got tonsillitis.
On Wednesday morning, the doctor gave me steroids and antibiotics.
By Thursday evening, I wasn't just back to 100%, I was flying at a solid 150%.
It's now Sunday evening and I can't believe that I'm still riding this high.
I haven't felt this good in months. I'm motivated, happy, smiling more and crying oh so much less. I'm feeling amazing physically, in control emotionally and mentally I feel like I'm breathing fresh air. I am at peace with things I used to worry about constantly. It's truly glorious. The doctor wants me to steadily decrease how many pills I take every day, but lucky me, I have to finish the bottle. At this point, it looks like it'll last until about Friday.
It is truly amazing how much your life changes when your body feels good.
I get why people work out regularly, eat healthy and get plenty of sleep.
This. Feels. Good.
But that's just it. This is completely drug-induced.
What I've felt for the past few days has been generated by pills, not by me. For now.
When you make a commitment to understand how your body, your heart and your mind all work together to make the best version of yourself, sometimes the team doesn't communicate so well at first. Your heart goes on a joy ride and stops listening to your mind or your body tells you that you want something when both the heart and mind are screaming to just leave it alone. As miserable as tonsillitis was, it was a real wake up call. The last really bad interception before coach finally calls a time out.
Sometimes, I think God lets us get tonsillitis or dumped or demoted because we need to know what happens when we stop communicating properly. When we get distracted, the team starts to throw some lousy passes and I imagine God just holding the whistle out to me saying, "Whenever you're ready." But the great thing is, once we finally own up and get the team in a huddle, God's got the playbook to turn it around. And sometimes, He gives us a glimpse of what it will look like when we start playing like a team again.
Right now, my million dollar question is What am I going to do to stay feeling this good once the meds are gone? I haven't figured it out yet. But thank God for tonsillitis. I wouldn't have realized how sick I was without it.
On Wednesday morning, the doctor gave me steroids and antibiotics.
By Thursday evening, I wasn't just back to 100%, I was flying at a solid 150%.
It's now Sunday evening and I can't believe that I'm still riding this high.
I haven't felt this good in months. I'm motivated, happy, smiling more and crying oh so much less. I'm feeling amazing physically, in control emotionally and mentally I feel like I'm breathing fresh air. I am at peace with things I used to worry about constantly. It's truly glorious. The doctor wants me to steadily decrease how many pills I take every day, but lucky me, I have to finish the bottle. At this point, it looks like it'll last until about Friday.
It is truly amazing how much your life changes when your body feels good.
I get why people work out regularly, eat healthy and get plenty of sleep.
This. Feels. Good.
But that's just it. This is completely drug-induced.
What I've felt for the past few days has been generated by pills, not by me. For now.
When you make a commitment to understand how your body, your heart and your mind all work together to make the best version of yourself, sometimes the team doesn't communicate so well at first. Your heart goes on a joy ride and stops listening to your mind or your body tells you that you want something when both the heart and mind are screaming to just leave it alone. As miserable as tonsillitis was, it was a real wake up call. The last really bad interception before coach finally calls a time out.
Sometimes, I think God lets us get tonsillitis or dumped or demoted because we need to know what happens when we stop communicating properly. When we get distracted, the team starts to throw some lousy passes and I imagine God just holding the whistle out to me saying, "Whenever you're ready." But the great thing is, once we finally own up and get the team in a huddle, God's got the playbook to turn it around. And sometimes, He gives us a glimpse of what it will look like when we start playing like a team again.
Right now, my million dollar question is What am I going to do to stay feeling this good once the meds are gone? I haven't figured it out yet. But thank God for tonsillitis. I wouldn't have realized how sick I was without it.
Friday, 23 October 2015
A New Way to Worship
Have you ever considered that maybe God sings with us when we worship Him?
After you read this, I'd like you to find some of your favorite worship music and imagine that Jesus is singing it to you rather than you singing it to Jesus. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but when we sing about how much we love our Heavenly Father or how faithful and sure our salvation is, we should take a moment every so often to remember that the truth of the Gospel teaches us that Jesus feels the exact same way towards us. Just as we long to someday be with Him, He longs to present His bride in the Throne Room of Heaven.
I'll start with a simple example. Matthew West's song More has always been me and Jesus's love song; it is probably the only song I never sing along to as a rule. I just sit and listen while Jesus sings it to me. I love you more than the sun and the stars that I taught how to shine. You are mine, and you shine for me too. I love you.
Just a heads up, this does not usually work with old hymns. They are very foundational and heaven-focused, which is healthy and necessary in worship, but they don't usually work for this practice. However, I have recently grown incredibly fond of Blessed Assurance, and every now and then, I imagine Jesus singing it instead of me. Go with me on this. Blessed Assurance, You are mine. You are my story, you are my song. And for just a moment, this song is a two way conversation. Jesus is my story; to tell my story is to tell of Him (Thanks Big Daddy Weave for that great quote). But you are also His story and His song; when He retells the story of history to the angels, it's a story about you. And I think we forget that sometimes. To accept the gift of salvation from Jesus is a one-time decision, but the reality of the depth of love in the Gospel is something we need to remind ourselves is real every single day.
Here's a little deeper example. A recent favorite of mine is You Will Never Run Away by Rend Collective. The chorus goes: You will never run away, you're forever mine. You will never run away, you're by my side. You will never run away, you'll forever shine. You will never run away you're by my side. I think on our hardest days, Jesus sings this to us. He knows the strength of our faith better than we do and He's cheering and fighting for us when we question where we stand. One of my favorite Bethel Music song's declares Jesus we love you, Oh how we love you. You are the one our hearts adore. Whenever I sing this song, it's really weird, but my focus literally goes back and forth; I sing a chorus, then Jesus sings a chorus, repeat. When was the last time you had that kind of a conversation with the God of the Universe.
So give it a try. It might feel strange to imagine Jesus worshiping you, but in a kind of weird way, He does. Worship is an act of love. When we worship God, we are lifting Him to a high place in our hearts reserved only for Him. And believe it or not, Jesus has a high place in His heart for you too and He will always, always love you more than you love Him. And while we really shouldn't let it go to our heads that we are worshiped, what I want this exercise to teach us is to never forget that we are loved by Jesus in a way that surpasses everything we could imagine.
After you read this, I'd like you to find some of your favorite worship music and imagine that Jesus is singing it to you rather than you singing it to Jesus. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but when we sing about how much we love our Heavenly Father or how faithful and sure our salvation is, we should take a moment every so often to remember that the truth of the Gospel teaches us that Jesus feels the exact same way towards us. Just as we long to someday be with Him, He longs to present His bride in the Throne Room of Heaven.
I'll start with a simple example. Matthew West's song More has always been me and Jesus's love song; it is probably the only song I never sing along to as a rule. I just sit and listen while Jesus sings it to me. I love you more than the sun and the stars that I taught how to shine. You are mine, and you shine for me too. I love you.
Just a heads up, this does not usually work with old hymns. They are very foundational and heaven-focused, which is healthy and necessary in worship, but they don't usually work for this practice. However, I have recently grown incredibly fond of Blessed Assurance, and every now and then, I imagine Jesus singing it instead of me. Go with me on this. Blessed Assurance, You are mine. You are my story, you are my song. And for just a moment, this song is a two way conversation. Jesus is my story; to tell my story is to tell of Him (Thanks Big Daddy Weave for that great quote). But you are also His story and His song; when He retells the story of history to the angels, it's a story about you. And I think we forget that sometimes. To accept the gift of salvation from Jesus is a one-time decision, but the reality of the depth of love in the Gospel is something we need to remind ourselves is real every single day.
Here's a little deeper example. A recent favorite of mine is You Will Never Run Away by Rend Collective. The chorus goes: You will never run away, you're forever mine. You will never run away, you're by my side. You will never run away, you'll forever shine. You will never run away you're by my side. I think on our hardest days, Jesus sings this to us. He knows the strength of our faith better than we do and He's cheering and fighting for us when we question where we stand. One of my favorite Bethel Music song's declares Jesus we love you, Oh how we love you. You are the one our hearts adore. Whenever I sing this song, it's really weird, but my focus literally goes back and forth; I sing a chorus, then Jesus sings a chorus, repeat. When was the last time you had that kind of a conversation with the God of the Universe.
So give it a try. It might feel strange to imagine Jesus worshiping you, but in a kind of weird way, He does. Worship is an act of love. When we worship God, we are lifting Him to a high place in our hearts reserved only for Him. And believe it or not, Jesus has a high place in His heart for you too and He will always, always love you more than you love Him. And while we really shouldn't let it go to our heads that we are worshiped, what I want this exercise to teach us is to never forget that we are loved by Jesus in a way that surpasses everything we could imagine.
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