Brennan Manning

A Good Word from Oswald

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“‘The water that I shall give him will become in him a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life’ (John 4:14).

‘We are to be fountains through which Jesus can flow as “rivers of living water” in blessing to everyone. Yet some of us are like the Dead Sea, always receiving but never giving. Whenever the blessings are not being poured out in the same measure they are received, there is a defect in our relationship with Him. Stay at the Source, closely guarding your faith in Jesus Christ and your relationship to Him, and there will be a steady flow into the lives of others with no dryness or deadness whatsoever'” (Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest).

I don’t see Oswald climbing the charts as a popular baby name, but the man to whom the name belonged left a legacy of wisdom behind when he died at a young age.

If you want to read about his incredible life, I recommend the book Oswald Chambers: Abandoned to God: The Life Story of the Author of My Utmost for His Highest by David McCasland. Here’s a link to the amazon site where you can purchase the book.

https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=oswald+chambers+biography

I think what he’s trying to get at is that we’re called to serve out of the overflow of time spent with Jesus. It’s no good if all we do is soak up and receive and never share with anyone else. It’s also no good if all we do is serve with no time left over to receive from God.

PS I also recommend My Utmost for His Highest as one of the best devotionals you’ll find. It’s a classic.

 

 

Blow Up Your TV

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“Blow up your TV, throw away your paper
Go to the country, build you a home
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches
Try and find Jesus on your own” (John Prine)

Sometimes, I think that’d be the best way to live. I’ve come to the place where I can’t trust the news I read anymore. I can’t trust the social media posts I see when it comes to political issues.

It seems that everything is biased and everything is filtered through an agenda. As I’ve said before, I refuse to drink either the blue or red kool-aid and buy into either the Democrat or Republican deception. The older I get, the more independent my political views become.

Maybe I should just move to the country and plant a little garden, eat more peaches and read more books. You know, the real kind with actual pages that you turn.

In the mean time, perhaps I’ll read my Bible more and social media less. I’ll play with my kitten more.

Definitely, I want to get out more while the weather’s nice. There is no better antidote to the culturally programmed anxiety than a hike through the woods or even simply stepping outside and breathing in some fresh air.

I definitely pray more. I’m remembering what Ann Lamott said about how you know you’ve created God in your own image when He hates all the same people you do. I believe Jesus taught us to hate no one and pray for our enemies. That runs completely counter-cultural to the current trend of demonizing your political opponents and mocking those with different beliefs and ideologies.

Anyway, my cat is sitting on my laptop and purring, so I’d better wrap this thing up. Good night, everyone, and pleasant dreams to you all.

 

 

Happy Labor (Free) Day

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Every now and then, it’s nice to have a holiday on a Monday. I wouldn’t want it all the time, seeing as how it makes Tuesday feel like Monday on steroids with all the playing catch-up.

Still, it was great being able to turn off the alarm and sleep in today. My cat Peanut was probably in favor of me not having to get up and be somewhere else at an ungodly hour. She was all for snuggling with me after I finally got out of bed and made it to the couch.

I made progress in a biography about President Harry S. Truman (a bit of light reading), watched a couple episodes of the first season of Beverly Hills 90210 (definitely bringing back some memories), made a Starbucks run (a horchata almond milk frappachino), went to see my grandmother at her nursing home, hiked at Radnor Lake State Park, and vegged (not in that order).

Labor Day means the beginning of the end for summer. I realize the actual end isn’t for 17 more days, but after today, you can’t wear your Hawaiian shirts anymore (unless you’re a rebel like me who likes to defy social conventions and live dangerously).

I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it’s September and we’re already 3/4 of the way through 2017. Whoa.

At least the best parts of the year are still yet to come. Not to mention pumpkin spice everything.

 

 

 

Pawprints

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I visited Lucy’s final resting place again today. It doesn’t make me as teary as it used to. I still get sad thinking about how much I miss my little girl, but I have so many happy memories, too.

Thanks again, Lucy, for all the kitten kisses, the purrs, the therapy sessions, the head rubs. Thanks for all the love.

You set the bar high for every pet I will ever have after you. I think you would have liked Peanut, even if she’s a little spaz at times. 

Even though my heart is healing, I will always miss you and carry those paw prints left by you.

Cheekwood in September

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On this unseasonably fall-ish day, I went to Cheekwood Estate and Gardens for the first time ever. Mainly, it was for the Downton Abbey exhibit in the Museum of Art, but they also had gardens. Hence the name.

I confess that I am nowhere near an expert on fashion or design. I appreciate that the costumes had a lot of detail and that a lot of thought and care went into recreating the look from the upper class England just after World War I.

I was reminded that what I love more than just about anything is watching someone craft or paint or sing or play at something that they obviously love. When I see craftsmanship at its finest, I usually also see someone who does it for the sheer joy of it and not for monetary gain.

And then there were the gardens. Again, I’m no expert, but I do love seeing the riot of colors and patterns in the flowers. I could tell it was way more than someone throwing seeds randomly into the air and hoping some would stick. It took someone who loved what they did and who was a master at it.

Side note: don’t work to pay bills and make money, but work at something you love. Then it’s not a chore that you endure for 8 hours a day, always counting down the minutes to Friday at 5 pm.

My life and your life is the canvas and God is the artist. Nothing happens by chance and nothing catches the Artist off guard. He knows exactly what He’s doing at every single moment and has an end design in mind the whole time. Remember that when you’re in a dark place.

I’ll definitely be going back to Cheekwood, hopefully on a day as perfect as today. Maybe I’ll even take pictures the next time.

 

 

Brace Yourselves! Pumpkin Spice Everything is Coming!

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Or it may actually be here. I can’t be sure.

I do know that in 22 days comes the official start of fall. At least that’s the autumnal equinox and the official end of summer. Tennessee for the most part doesn’t pay much attention to that day and persists in having summer for about another month or so (all while probably saying, “Hold my beer”).

But I can finally start to see it.

Yes, pumpkin spice everything is coming, and I for one am estatic about it. I’m a fan of the pumpkin spice, even if it does tend to conjure up images of white suburban girls in yoga pants.

Also, fall brings the return of the NFL and college football, as well as fantasy football. I’m hoping for an improvement over last year, which while not bad for a beginner, ended a bit disappointingly.

I’m eagerly anticipating the cooler temps, the changing leaves, the bonfires, and flannel. To me, flannel is like wearing a warm hug all day long.

There’s good to be found in every season, but fall will always be far and away my favorite. I said it before, but fall tends to get me nostalgic more than any other time of the year. If I had to choose just one season, it would be fall leading into Christmas every single time.

22 days. That’s it. Not that I’m counting. Or excited.

 

 

 

My Mushy Brain Post

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Somewhere between the long work week, the rain, and me getting up at 5 am every morning, my lil’ brain became mush. So don’t expect anything profound or deep from this post. I even made the mental faux pas of saying that Monday was Memorial Day (instead of Labor Day, which is the correct upcoming holiday).

After work, I met up with some fellow Kairos greeters for dinner at McAllister’s Deli. It felt a little surreal, as I used to work at a McAllister’s in Germantown (the one just outside of Memphis, not the one close to downtown Nashville). The food was good (one Spud Max), the conversation was good, the half tea/half lemonade was decent but not great.

Carried away by all the good feelings, I went next door to Golf Galaxy and bought a Yeti tumbler. Yeah, I know. I said I’d rather have a less expensive knockoff. And I don’t even play golf. Chalk it up to the mushy brain syndrome. Plus, I really like the retro green color.

My little kitten continues to be a sweet, affectionate little thing. I believe she’s as grateful today as she was on the day I rescued her and brought her home from the shelter just over two months ago. She likes to cuddle and purr at least once a day, and she seems to like just about everybody.

Right now, I’m content. The only improvement I might make is if I could somehow sleep under a tin roof in the rain. I think that’d definitely help me drift off to sleep faster.

As always, I’m thankful for another day to be alive with my five senses to take it all in. Truly, at the end of the day, it’s all grace and anything good that came my way today is all God.

 

Poverty of Spirit

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“What is my barrenness? It is the platform for His fruit-creating power. What is my desolation? It is the black setting for the sapphire of His everlasting love.

“I will go in poverty, I will go in helplessness, I will go in all my shame and backsliding, I will tell Him that I am still His child, and in confidence in His faithful heart, even I, the barren one, will sing and cry aloud.” (Charles Spurgeon)

That’s what it means to be poor in spirit, the very ones Jesus called blessed in the Beatitudes.

It feels very much counter-cultural, even in Christian circles.

While the Apostle Paul was proud to be able to boast in his weakness, knowing that’s where God’s power is perfected, we’re supposed to always present the happiest, shiniest version of ourselves. Just look at social media to see how well we’ve perfected the facade.

But Jesus longs for us to be our true selves. Come to me, He says, all who can finally admit that they’re weary and exhausted and overwhelmed by life, and I will give you the rest you crave.

I honestly had a good day today. But there are still times when I have to confess that I can’t do anything apart from God’s providential care. I need Jesus just as much on a good day as on those days where I can’t seem to do anything right.

I still do the prayer where as you inhale you proclaim, “Abba Father,” and as you exhale you say, “I belong to You.”

That’s still a good way to keep centered and remind yourself of Who’s really in charge of your day and your life. Spoiler alert: not you.

May we come to the place where we can finally take off the masks of perfection and performance and finally be our true selves, embracing and encouraging each other instead of envying and competing with each other.

Abba Father, we belong to You.

Radnor Lake and Patsy Cline

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I think I picked a perfect evening for a hike at Radnor Lake State Park. Apparently, the rain earlier in the day scared off most people, so there were precious few hikers who were able to witness a picture perfect day for the woods.

It came within a hairsbreadth of fall weather. A few degrees cooler and it would have been autumn. Still, it made for an enjoyable walk. I saw 13 deer, so they had the same idea about getting out in the cooler weather.

On the way home, I had Patsy Cline playing in the car. I’m fairly certain that she wrung every ounce of emotion out of every song she ever sang. She didn’t have to write her songs to bring authenticity to them; she lived the songs.

I’m convinced that she was a once in a lifetime kind of talent that left us way too soon. Still, she left us with a treasure trove of songs full of heartbreak and loss and love found. If you don’t believe me, listen to her version of Faded Love, by far the most gut-wrenching version of the song ever recorded.

It’s been a good Monday. That almost seems like an oxymoron, but I still believe that any day can be a good day if you only choose to look for the good in it and thank God for it.

So, thanks to Radnor Lake State Park and the musical legacy of Patsy Cline, I’d call this Monday a win.

Longing for the Word

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“Christians are persons who no longer seek their salvation, their deliverance, their justification in themselves, but in Jesus Christ alone. They know that God’s Word in Jesus Christ pronounces them guilty, even when they feel nothing of their own guilt, and that God’s Word in Jesus Christ pronounces them free and righteous even when they feel nothing of their own righteousness…

Because they daily hunger and thirst for righteousness, they long for the redeeming Word again and again. It can only come from the outside. In themselves they are destitute and dead. Help must come from the outside; and it has come and comes daily and anew in the Word of Jesus Christ, bringing us redemption, righteousness, innocence, and blessedness. But God put this Word into the mouth of human beings so that it may be passed on to others. When people are deeply affected by the Word, they tell it to other people. God has willed that we should seek and find God’s living Word in the testimony of other Christians, in the mouths of human beings. Therefore, Christians need other Christians who speak God’s Word to them. They need them again and again when they become uncertain and disheartened” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer).

One question: when last did you long for the word of God? When did you last hunger and thirst for Scripture?

These are questions not meant to guilt you into picking up your Bible, but to gauge where you and I are spiritually. I know for me if the Bible is the last thought in my mind when I have some down time, it means that I am in a spiritually vulnerable place.

May God grant each of us a desire for His word that outweighs all other appetites, even physical ones, so that we can search the pages of His word and find Him there.

Amen.