In all honesty, I hate when that happens. It’s like my belt loop never gets caught on anything unless I’m already in a hurry or in a bad mood. In fact, it seems that when I’m already having a bad day, everything inanimate seems to work against me.

But maybe that’s God telling me to stop being extra. Maybe God is saying to me to stop making it all about me — my agenda, my wants, my desires, my timetable . . .

I think that part of the reason I can’t really hear the voice of God is that I’m too much in my own head or too much into my own internal conversations to make room for any other voices. That’s when I need to be intentional to at least let God into the conversations I’m already having in my head.

I do think that pinky toes are designed for finding the corners of furniture in the dark, regardless of your mood. Maybe that’s a part of the fall. Maybe it’s just those little toes being extra. Maybe it’s God teaching me more of that humility and dependence. But can they not? Seriously?

I hate it when I do dumb things. It’s annoying.

Tonight, I went over to Franklin where they had the Bluegrass on the Harpeth festival. It was great seeing so many people gathered together for music on a relatively mild summer evening. I had a near perfect evening, marred by one thing I wish I could take back or do over.

I went to the ATM to deposit some money. All that went according to plan. Then I went to Barnes and Noble to check out their vinyl and eat some of their cheesecake, not in that order. It was only when I arrived at Barnes and Noble that I realized that I never got my debit card back from the ATM machine.

So there it lies in the belly of that First Horizon ATM. And I feel dumb. But it’s not the end of the world.

I still have my credit cards. I have a small amount of cash. I will be ok.

I’ve learned throughout my journey through this walk of faith that beating yourself up repeatedly over mistakes doesn’t help you grow in grace. Giving yourself grace does. When you allow for your fallenness, you make room for forgiveness and grace. You learn to see your need for God more.

The key is to forgive yourself and learn from your mistakes. I can laugh about it, but hopefully, I don’t keep leaving my debit cards in ATM machines. And most likely, I will get a shiny new debit card out of all this.

“Dear Lord, you are the first of the just. You lived the righteous life. It is because of you that your heavenly Father keeps this world in existence and shows his mercy to us sinners. Who am I, Lord, to expect your love, protection, and mercy? Who am I to deserve a place in your heart, in your house, in your kingdom? Who am I, Lord, to hope in your forgiveness, your friendship, your embrace? And still this is what I am waiting for, expecting, even counting on! Not because of my own merits, but solely because of your immense mercy. You lived for us the life that is pleasing to God. O Lord, you are the just one, the blessed one, the beloved one, the righteous one, the gracious one.

I pray that your Father, the Father of all people, the One who created me and sustains me day in and day out, may recognize in me your marks and receive me because of you. Help me to follow you, to unite my life with yours and to become a mirror of your love. Amen” (Henri J.M. Nouwen, A Cry for Mercy: Prayers from the Genesee).

“God uses broken things. It takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to give rain, broken grain to give bread, broken bread to give strength. It is the broken alabaster box that gives forth perfume. It is Peter, weeping bitterly, who returns to greater power than ever” (Vance Havner).

“You can have my heart, though it isn’t new
It’s been used and broken, and only comes in blue
It’s been down a long road, and it got dirty along the way
If I give it to you, will you make it clean
And wash the shame away?

You can have my heart, if you don’t mind broken things
You can have my life; you don’t mind these tears
Well, I heard that you make old things new
So I give these pieces all to you
If you want it, you can have my heart

So beyond repair, nothing I could do
I tried to fix it myself
But it was only worse when I got through
Then you walk right into my darkness
And you speak words so sweet
And you hold me like a child 
’til my frozen tears fall at your feet

You can have my heart, if you don’t mind broken things
You can have my life if you don’t mind these tears
Well, I heard that you make old things new
So I give these pieces up to you
If you want it, you can have my heart” (Julie Miller).

One of my favorite quotes is that purity of heart means to will one thing. I think peace has the same idea. It means not being scattered in six different directions all the time but being grounded and centered on one thing around which everything else revolves.

My pastor once said that the word glory has the idea of gravity or weight. Basically, when we talk about the glory of God, we mean that God is the only one strong enough or weighty enough to keep everything else in our lives in orbit and to keep us from flying apart or falling apart.

To be saturated in prayer means to focus and to keep refocusing on God and God’s kingdom. It becomes less about treating God like Santa Claus and asking Him for all that I want and more about retraining my mind to think what God thinks and my will to desire what God wills.

Still, panic and anxiety seem to be our default settings. I don’t know about you, but I don’t really have to work at being worried. That seems to happen naturally. What I do have to work for and intentionally seek is to remain calm and peaceful when everything goes haywire (or seems to go haywire from my perspective but never in God’s).

I really like how The Message translates Matthew 6:7-13:

“The world is full of so-called prayer warriors who are prayer-ignorant. They’re full of formulas and programs and advice, peddling techniques for getting what you want from God. Don’t fall for that nonsense. This is your Father you are dealing with, and he knows better than you what you need. With a God like this loving you, you can pray very simply. Like this:

Our Father in heaven,
Reveal who you are.
Set the world right;
Do what’s best—
as above, so below.
Keep us alive with three square meals.
Keep us forgiven with you and forgiving others.
Keep us safe from ourselves and the Devil.
You’re in charge!
You can do anything you want!
You’re ablaze in beauty!
Yes. Yes. Yes.”

Sometimes, you need to laugh at yourself. Sometimes, you can laugh at others who have made dumber mistakes than you. Or if you wish, you can be a decent person and laugh “with” them. I found a list of bad analogies actually written by high school students that made me think of when I was a writer as a kid and I thought that the more adjectives, the better the writing. Just sit back and enjoy . . . .

“Those Divine demands which sound to our natural ears most like those of a despot and least like those of a lover, in fact marshal us where we should want to go if we knew what we wanted. He demands our worship, our obedience, our prostration. Do we suppose that they can do Him any good, or fear, like the chorus in Milton, that human irreverence can bring about ‘His glory’s diminution’? A man can no more diminish God’s glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word ‘darkness’ on the walls of his cell. But God wills our good, and our good is to love Him (with that responsive love proper to creatures) and to love Him we must know Him: and if we know Him, we shall in fact fall on our faces. If we do not, that only shows that what we are trying to love is not yet God— though it may be the nearest approximation to God which our thought and fantasy can attain. Yet the call is not only to prostration and awe; it is to a reflection of the Divine life, a creaturely participation in the Divine attributes which is far beyond our present desires. We are bidden to ‘put on Christ’, to become like God. That is, whether we like it or not, God intends to give us what we need, not what we now think we want. Once more, we are embarrassed by the intolerable compliment, by too much love, not too little “C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain).

I love the idea that I can’t diminish God’s glory by refusing to worship Him any more than a crazy person can blot out the sun by writing the word ‘darkness’ on his walls. My obedience adds nothing to the glory of God. My disobedience takes nothing away from it.

When I obey, I find that God’s words are true and that God is faithful. When I say yes to whatever God asks, I find that what He wants for me is far better than anything I could ever hope for or dream of on my own. When I finally let go of the fear that God doesn’t have my best interests at heart, I figure out that it was my vision for my life that was too small, not God’s.

As I read once, God never gives up the glory of being the giver. Whatever I think I am giving up or sacrificing for God ends up gaining me far more in return. Even the acceptable offerings I make to God come only from God.

I remember once I was extremely anxious about something and couldn’t sleep. I kept tossing and turning and replaying different doomsday scenarios in my head. Of course, each and every one of those scenarios involved me having to figure everything out with God not being anywhere in sight.

I remember at some point God spoke to me and basically said, “Why are you so afraid and anxious? What are you ever going to face that I haven’t already overcome by my cross?”

That’s just it. There isn’t anything. I have nothing to fear, but I still fear. Part of it is that things like fear and worry are the default settings of fallen people like you and me. Part of it is that I honestly still don’t trust God completely.

But the more I let go of fear and hold on to the promises of God, the more I find peace. The more I see God working in my circumstances, working all things together for good. The less I stress and worry about worst case scenarios.

And those scenarios that I dread? 999,999 out of 1,000,000 times, they never happen. And on that rare 1 out of 1,000,000 occurrence, God is with me in the midst of my worst case scenario and it’s not as bad as I feared because I am surrounded by loving arms that won’t let me go.

So for all of us who still need the reminder, He has overcome. Not He might or He may or He will. He has already overcome. The end.

I found some sage advice on the interwebs that I thought I’d pass along:

“1. Be silent – in the heat of anger.

2. Be silent – when you don’t have all the facts.

3. Be silent – when you haven’t verified the story.

4. Be silent – if your words will offend a weaker person.

5. Be silent – when it is time to listen.

6. Be silent – when you are tempted to make light of holy things.

7. Be silent – when you are tempted to joke about sin.

8. Be silent – if you would be ashamed of your word later.

9. Be silent – if your words would convey the wrong impression.

10. Be silent – if the issue is none of your business.

11. Be silent – when you are tempted to tell an outright lie.

12. Be silent – if your words will damage someone else’s reputation.

13. Be silent – if your words will damage a friendship.

14. Be silent – when you are feeling critical.

15. Be silent – if you can’t say it without screaming.

16. Be silent – if your words will be a poor reflection of your friends and family.

17. Be silent – if you may have to eat your words later.

18. Be silent – if you have already said it more than one time.”

I believe the book of Proverbs has plenty to say about the value of choosing to listen over speaking. There are plenty of tidbits of wisdom like being quick to speak and slow to hear. One of my favorites (which may or may not be entirely biblical) says that it’s better to keep quiet and let people think you’re a fool than to open your mouth and prove it. I love the adage that we have two ears and one mouth for a reason — take twice as long to listen as to speak.

I don’t think any of this is advocating for complete silence in situations of injustice or wrongdoing. I do think that the wisdom comes in being wise with your words and timely with your replies — not just speaking to hear your own voice, or “to hear your head rattle” as my grandmother said more than once.

The issue is not speaking up, but speaking rashly and hastily before you have all the facts and understanding or before you can see all the different viewpoints. And sometimes it’s better just to keep your mouth shut when you don’t have nothin’ nice to say.

“Jesus died for the clumsy, the broken, the ones who never say the right thing, the ones who thought they were past it (but aren’t), the anxiety-ridden, the depressed, the mentality unstable, the dads who can’t get it right and the moms who are overwhelmed; He died for those whose pasts haunt them and for those who are sucked into a cycle of self-deprecating thinking- the impure, the abused, the sexually deviant, the ones who can’t help but exaggerate their life; he died for Peter who denied him not once but three times, he died for the woman at the well who was appreciated for only her body – for the skeptic, the murderer, the thief – those who cuss and drink and smoke, and for those who don’t; he died for conservatives and the liberals and everyone in between, for senators and meth-heads, preachers and construction workers, the fundamentalist and the porn star. He died for those abused by the church and struggle to feel safe, valued, or heard. His grace is more than sufficient for an eternity of sinful lifetimes. Believe. Trust. Come, those who are WEARY and weighed down… Ask him to take it all away, ask him to forgive it all, and you will be NEW” (from an anonymous pastor).

There’s hope for all of us who can’t ever seem to get it right. The hope is that Jesus makes all things new. He didn’t come to validate your lifestyle but to save you from your sin and to give you a new life. He came not to make you good or better but to make you new. Brand new.

The good news of the gospel is that Jesus can still save anyone at anytime from any kind of past or any kind of addiction or any kind of struggle. If He can save the thief on the cross who made a last-second confession, He can certainly save you or me.

As I’ve heard before and said before, the good news of the gospel is not that you can get to God but that God has come to us in the person of Jesus. He came for me. He came for you. And He still saves.