Author: Ragamuffingospelfan

Your Value

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I love stories like this one. The man basically paid a penny for something that ended up being practically priceless. The reason the card is so valuable is because it’s extremely rare, especially in near mint condition. Also, the fact that I collected baseball cards back in the day makes it mean more to me.

I’ve always dreamed of something like that. I’d love to walk into a thrift store and find a rare record or piece of artwork. I did find an autographed first edition copy of Gregg Allman’s autobiography, though I very much doubt it’s worth anything close to $25 million. Still, it makes for a cool story to tell.

I’m reminded of what my pastor said a long time ago. He said that when you doubt your worth, remember who you are and Whose you are. Remember who made you. If God could flip you upside down and somehow show you His signature on you, then you would know how valuable you are. Not worthless but priceless.

Not only do you have value from God’s creation of you, but also because Jesus paid the highest possible price to redeem you. It wasn’t from anything the world values. It wasn’t your good looks or your fat bank account or your skinny body. It wasn’t because of what a wonderful human being you are. In fact, the Bible says that while we were yet sinners and enemies of God, Christ died for us. Not from any intrinsic value in and of ourselves but from the value God placed on us of bearing the image of God. Basically, it was God’s good pleasure to love us and to die for us to redeem us.

So remember your value on those days when you feel less than. It’s not your job title or your bank account or the letters after your name. It’s what God says about you and what He did for you on the cross. That’s your worth.

The Litmus Test of Our Faith

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“We pray for the big things and forget to give thanks for the ordinary, small (and yet really not small) gifts. How can God entrust great things to one who will not thankfully receive from Him the little things?” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together: The Classic Exploration of Faith in Community)

I wonder if the litmus test of genuine faith is gratitude. I also wonder if one of the hindrances to answered prayers is failure to give thanks for previous answered prayers. It could just be that the more we’re able to give thanks for God’s graces and gifts, the more discerning we are to God’s responses in the present. The more we can see and hear God at work.

I also know that God is not bound to my obedience. The life of faith is a life of grace. I know that if for God to answer one of my prayers required complete faithfulness and obedience, I’d be lost, both figuratively and literally.

Still, the word I keep hearing over and over is thanksgiving. Saying “thank you” to God isn’t a magic formula that forces God’s hand, but a prayer that frees us to see more of God’s smaller gifts and maybe makes us able to receive the larger gifts.

That June Post

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“Our culture has accepted two lies. The first is that if you disagree with someone’s lifestyle, you must fear or hate them. The second is to love someone’s means you believe with everything they believe or do. Both are nonsense” (Rick Warren).

Yes, it’s June. These days they have created something called Pride Month where we are supposed to celebrate all things LGBTQ, etc. The thinking goes that if you love someone, you will love and endorse just about everything about them, and if you disagree with someone on any point, you must hate them.

That’s not true. I know and love people who are in the rainbow lifestyle, but I don’t endorse or agree with their lifestyle. I don’t hate them. I don’t wish them harm. I do pray for them and wish them true happiness.

I also don’t happen to see sexual sin as any worse than living together outside of marriage or adultery within the context of marriage. I don’t think someone else’s struggle with homosexuality is worse than my struggle with the sins of pride and envy.

Jesus loved people in the middle of their messes but didn’t leave them in their messes. He called prostitutes, tax collectors, and other sinners to follow Him. The best part is that when He was finished with His work, they weren’t prostitutes, tax collectors, or sinners any more. They were disciples. That was their new identity.

Did they still sin? Absolutely. But Jesus still loved them.

One of my favorite quotes that sums up the kind of love Jesus had for them (and for us) goes like this:

“Love loves unto purity. Love has ever in view the absolute loveliness of that which it beholds. Therefore all that is not beautiful in the beloved, all that comes between and is not of love’s kind, must be destroyed. And our God is a consuming fire” (George MacDonald).

For those of you in the LGBTQ lifestyle, my prayer is first and foremost that you fall in love with Jesus and surrender to Him fully. I don’t want you in heterosexual marriages as much as I want you to be fully devoted disciples of Jesus who confess and repent daily of their sins and let Jesus’ love transform them to be more like Jesus.

Ultimately, your identity is not your sexuality or your skin color or your ethnicity or your nationality or your tax bracket or your ancestry. Your primary identity is one made by God who bears the image of God, called into relationship with God to be a son or daughter of God.

It’s Almost Jimmy Buffett Season

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I’ve associated summer with Jimmy Buffett for as long as I can remember. I think it goes back to when the Central Church college and career group used to go on trips to Panama City Beach back in the late 90s. There were always two guys set up on the beach who played nothing but Jimmy Buffet songs.

So now every single time I hear any Jimmy Buffett song, I automatically remember those halcyon days. Plus, just about every Jimmy Buffett song has to do with summer things like beaches and oceans and tropical locations.

I suppose you could listen to Jimmy Buffett songs in winter, but to me that feels like listening to Christmas music in July. It seems out of place . . . out of season. It’s almost as bad as crossing the streams in that Ghostbuster movie.

Tonight, I caught the A1A Jimmy Buffett Tribute Band in concert at Crockett Park. The main vocalist did sound quite a bit like Jimmy and they had all the old songs down pat. Once again, I felt the need to go where I can smell salty ocean air and feel wet sand between my toes. Some place where I can watch the sun set over the ocean and fall asleep to crashing waves.

I may be speaking sacrilege, but I feel like summer’s only fun if you have immediate access to an ocean or a lake or a pool. Otherwise, it’s just hot and muggy for no good reason. The older I get, the less I can tolerate hot temps, so I yearn for the cooler weather of fall. But give me an ocean within walking distance and I am suddenly summer’s biggest fan.

So some time between now and June 21, don’t forget to leave out margaritas and cookies for Jimmy.

The Lost Art of Porch Sitting

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I think in my twilight years I want a house with a front porch. It doesn’t have to be a big house. It can even be one of those tiny houses as long as there is room enough in front for a rocking chair and/or a wicker swing.

I see houses all the time that have front porches of all sizes and types and shapes, from wraparounds to those that barely stretch past the entry. But I very rarely see anyone sitting on those front porches. Most people are too busy and have lost that art of being able to sit on their front porches.

I think it’s a lost art. It’s one thing to be physically present on a front porch but be mentally elsewhere, whether it be on social media via all the devices or with thoughts that are a thousand miles away. Sometimes, all you need is a front porch, a rocking chair, and a good book. Or even just the front porch and rocking chair on a beautiful sunny day.

We’re so addicted to our devices that 15 minutes without them can seem like 15 years. It’s easy to spend all that time wondering what you’re missing out on or what breaking news you haven’t heard about. But all that can wait for a few moments of hearing the hum of a creaky porch swing or the song of the cicadas.

People did that back in the day. They’d spend afternoons and evenings on the front porches, visiting neighbors and sharing sweet tea and their lives. They didn’t have devices. Further back in the day, they didn’t have television. Those front porches were their social media, their grapevine, their community all rolled up into one.

Back when I was little, I’d sometimes curl up on a porch swing and fall asleep to the creaky swaying rhythm and gentle breezes blowing. I’m sure that life can’t be THAT simple again, but I wonder if we don’t overcomplicate our lives with too much stuff and too many activities and not enough margin. We can choose to say no to things to have room for rest and reflection.

I want to get good at front porch sitting, not doing anything other than waving at neighbors and being in the moment and hearing the small still voice of God.

Humbly Let Go

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“Humbly let go. Let go of trying to do, let go of trying to control, let go of my own way, let go of my own fears. Let God blow His wind, His trials, oxygen for joy’s fire. Leave the hand open and be. Be at peace. Bend the knee and be small and let God give what God chooses to give because He only gives love and whisper a surprised thanks. This is the fuel for joy’s flame. Fullness of joy is discovered only in the emptying of will. And I can empty. I can empty because counting His graces has awakened me to how He cherishes me, holds me, passionately values me. I can empty because I am full of His love. I can trust” (Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are).

I’m not advocating for a kind of “let go and let God” passive approach to spirituality. I think in this case I need to let go of my way of thinking of how God should act. I should stop setting up boundaries to put God in so that He will act according to what I have set up as my standard for Him to follow.

I can trust that God’s ways are not my ways. I can trust that I would want what God wants if I knew what He knew. I would understand what He does if I could see the whole entire big picture from eternity rather than my own specific limited viewpoint. If my brain could comprehend the infinite, I could begin to think like God.

But I can’t and I’m not. “Faith is the assurance of things you have hoped for, the absolute conviction that there are realities you’ve never seen” (Hebrews 11:1, The Voice).

I trust in what I can’t see and I believe what I can’t fully understand. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be faith. It would be seeing and understanding. But even if I have the teensiest amount of faith like that of a microscopic mustard seed, that’s enough.

Being in the Will of God 3

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“The deepest spiritual lessons are not learned by His letting us have our way in the end, but by His making us wait, bearing with us in love and patience until we are able honestly to pray what He taught His disciples to pray: Thy will be done” (Elisabeth Elliot).

I feel like there’s been a theme lately. I keep running across quotes from years past that are about God’s will and learning to wait for God’s timing. Could it possibly be that God is trying to get my attention?

I admit that at times I’m a slow learner. Perhaps this season is one where God can finally get my full attention without me being distracted by a million other sounds, noises, and voices. Maybe this is where I finally get to say and mean it, “Thy will be done.”

It’s one thing to say the words and still hedge your bets. I can say I want God’s will and still be working on a backup plan in case my own plan fails. But to get to the point where I pray God’s will knowing that if God doesn’t show up, I’m sunk, I’m done, is the ultimate surrender.

That’s where another prayer from the Bible comes in handy: I believe. Help my unbelief.

Being in the Will of God

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“Outside the will of God, there’s nothing I want. Inside the will of God, there’s nothing I fear” (A. W. Tozer).

I used to think that if God’s will for me were something I didn’t like, I’d simply go outside His will and He’d eventually forgive me. I was young and dumb. I didn’t realize that the perimeters of God’s will were more for me than Him.

I didn’t realize that it’s impossible to find happiness outside of God and God’s will because such a thing doesn’t exist. Who better than God knows my inner workings and purposes, what makes me tick, what makes me come alive? Who else could so intricately design a plan for my life that has not only God’s greatest glory but my greatest good in mind?

So my prayer these days is the same as that of Elisabeth Elliott: “Thy will be done, even if it means my will be undone.”

It’s a Monday

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I never thought I’d say this, but I miss going in to work on a Monday. I almost miss getting up at 5 am to face the 27 mile trek to Donelson. I absolutely miss seeing all the people every day and drinking the coffee and telling the jokes. I even miss the parts of my job that I thought were the worst.

I know something better’s coming, but I’m not all that great at waiting. As much as I like to think I am a mostly calm individual with a low stress level most of the time, I am not. I can stress with the best sometimes.

But I keep praying “Lord, I don’t know what to do, but my eyes are on You.”

I think it’s from Josiah when he was facing a challenging situation from invading armies. The odds were not in their favor, so they cried out to the Lord. The people of God were not by and large faithful to God and probably didn’t have the right to expect God’s favor, but still they got it.

So that’s my hope. God will show up. Not when I think He should, but when He knows the time is right. Not according to my timetable, but according to His perfect plan.