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Happy Happy 2014!

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Well, it is officially 2014 and, thankfully, the media is calling it “twenty fourteen” instead of “two thousand and fourteen.” It just serms simpler.

I’ve made a list of things I want to do, some of which I have already implemented. It’s all about a healthier me for 2014. Hey, that almost rhymed.

1) I plan on getting back into running/trail hiking/bike riding at least 5 times a week.

2) I’m looking to cut back majorly processed sugars, breads, red meats, and fast foods.

3) i would love to see the term “bestie” (referring to best friend) eliminated from common usage. What was so wrong about BFF? And is it really so very hard to type “best friend”? I think not). There’s no theological or grammatical reason. It just annoys the crap out of me.

4) I would love to implement a “Greg’s Mac Fund” for me to buy a Mac Book at some point in the near future.

5) i plan on celebrating my 42nd birthday in style on February 28 (and not forgetting that ol’ Elvis was this age when he had his unfortunate bathroom episode).

6) i plan on working on my #1 New York Times bestseller novel that will allow me to quit my day job and spend more time on social media (I jest about everything but writing my novel).

7) i want to spend MORE time with the people who mean the most to me. That’s YOU. And currently, my calendar is looking rather open.

I’m not expecting 2014 to be a banner year. I am expecting God to show up and be just as faithful to me as He was in 2013 and 2012 and all those other years.

And you will be hearing a lot more about the progress on my new fitness regime. Probably starting tomorrow.

Good night and God bless you all.

10 Years Later

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In all the hoopla of gift-giving and gift-getting (not forgetting all the food-eating and dessert-eating), I almost forgot a very important anniversary.

It was 10 years to the day on December 24 that my beloved cat, Lucy, came home again after getting out and having an adventure. A very un-Hobbitlike adventure.

She somehow managed to get out and get lost on December 22. All the frantic searching in the world on the next day produced nothing. I vividly remember being distraught and very emotional. I had all but given up hope of ever seeing her again.

We had put up flyers all over the neighborhood. These flyers had her name, age, description, approximate weight, and a black-and-white photo. Apparently, on December 24, the mailman recognized the picture and informed us that she was taking up residence in a neighbor’s garage down the street.

I can imagine her trotting up to a strange lady and saying something like, “I’ve lost my family. Will you be my family?” Of course, this isn’t Narnia, so she wouldn’t actually say these things, but it would all be implied by her meowings.

Apparently, she got rained on a bit, got her nose scraped a bit, and had a few traumatic events, but came out of it the same old weird, goofy cat she’d always been.

I got her back on Christmas Eve. That remains my best gift.

She’s had a few other adventures since then, including a cancer scare which she thankfully survived.

Thinking back on the whole thing, I’m reminded that for those who want to come home, there’s always a way. Even more so with God.

No one who wants to find God, earnestly and truly, and know Him will be denied. All who seek Him in truth find Him and find at the same time that really He was the one seeking them. He was the one pursuing them and wooing them. The only way we ever find and love God is that He first finds and loves us.

And that goes for all the prodigals out there. The Father still waits and looks down the road for those who want to come home. Better than that, He already knows where you are and is whispering the way home to your heart. There is always a way back and a way home.

My reward is that I’ve gotten 10 years of feline therapy and free cat-scans. Your reward for seeking God isn’t as much the gifts and blessings from God, but God Himself. That’s still the best part.

Another Boxing Day Has Come and Gone

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It’s Boxing Day. At least for another 53 minutes.

All I know of this holiday is that it is celebrated in Canada and that it involves leaving gifts for those in need, or alms, in boxes outside our homes. I would look it up on Wikipedia, but I am beyond sleepy and not inclined for that much brain activity.

I had another great night in downtown Franklin. I ate at McCreary’s Irish Pub, which almost feels like a home away from home because the people who work there seem almost like a second family.

I finally got to see The Sound of Music on a big screen, Franklin Theatre-style. That was worth way more than $5.50.

I took lots of pictures with my iPhone. They’re all posted on my Facebook page, so look me up and see all my pics there.

As you might have already guessed, I’m running low on creativity tonight. I supposed I’m all boxed out. Ha.

On a day when most people have already moved on from Christmas, I’m still listening to Christmas music. I finally found my Ultimate Christmas MP3 CD with over 13 hours of hand-picked favorites. Apparently, I have way too many favorites.

I’m still thankful for the Baby born in a manger, whether it was actually on December 25 (which is highly doubtful) or in the spring (which is more likely). What matters isn’t when He came, but who He came for– you and me.

It’s good to be reminded again that I mattered enough to Someone for Him to come into my world and find me and save me from myself and my sins and my mess.

That’s all for now.

I Wonder as I Wander

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I came home from a Christmas Eve service a little bummed. Not for any specific reason. Just that I was tired and thinking once again about all I didn’t have instead of what I do.

Then I saw it. I saw the setting sun reflected off the still waters of a shallow pond. It was almost as if God gave me that moment to remind me that what I DO have matters so much more than what I DON’T.

I started wondering a few things:

I wonder if Mary mourned the loss of all she gave up when God called her. I know it seems strange, almost sacreligious, to think such a thing.

But Mary was a teenager who must have had her own dreams and her own fantasies of how her life would turn out. None of them involved an unexplainable (in human terms) pregnancy or giving birth to a Son whom she would witness being unfairly tried, tortured, and publicly executed.

God’s dreams often require that we give up not just bad things, but even some good and even very good things if they’re not God’s best for us. Letting go of those things can feel like a death knell to our hearts even if we know something better is coming.

Mary could have had a normal marriage with normal children and been well-respected in her community and taken no flack. But no one would ever have remembered her name.

God has a dream for you in His heart that sometimes won’t make sense. At times, it will feel too much like a letting go and giving up of much that we hold dear. It will be painful at times, like losing a part of your heart.

The payoff is so much more than worth it. Mary got to see the Messiah, hold Him in her arms, see Him grow up, and watch Him prove that not even that horrific death could hold Him down.

She got to see with her own eyes the salvation of the world. Her own salvation.

I call that more than worth it.

Untitled Blog #1,239

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Yeah, it was a Monday. A 12-hour workday Monday.

Normally, that recipe makes for one grumpy Greg. But not today.

God reminded me that joy is a choice that I must make every single day, even on a cold winter Monday at 6 am.

Thanksgiving means not seeing a long work day ahead but me having a job, not me having an annoying cough that sounds like a car that won’t start but me being awake and alive.

I still have those people I don’t get. One won’t ever speak to me unless I speak to her first and even then she sometimes doesn’t respond. One I’ve pretty much learned to leave alone and pray for from a distance.

But God still can teach me something in every circumstance and use every person I meet as a blessing, a lesson, or a caution.

I’m learning to slow down and appreciate the small moments, the short conversations, the texts, these moments of quiet grace.

I lost my joy for a little while. I took my eyes off of Jesus and got swamped by worry, fear, and lack. I bemoaned all that I didn’t have instead of practicing the art of thanksgiving for all that I do have.

Right now, I’m thankful for friends who still want to know me after I’ve gone a little nutty on them, white chocolate covered oreos, my Jeep, a faithful 13-year old feline, a warm soft bed, and for Jesus. Most of all, for Jesus.

Advent Is For You

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Maybe you know the feeling.

Maybe a certain someone at work is friendly to everyone else but you.

Maybe you’ve set your heart on someone only to have that feeling go unreturned and maybe even unackowledged.

Maybe you feel alone in a crowd, unwanted and invisible.

Maybe you’ve even felt that the world would be better off without you in it.

Maybe you feel like no one will ever choose you, that no one will ever desire you, that no one will love you in the way you’ve always dreamed of being loved.

Advent says differently.

Advent says God saw you at your worst and thought you were worth saving.

Advent says God loved you so much and couldn’t bear to be without you to the point that He put on human skin to be born in the lowliest way to the lowliest people to show that no one is beneath His grace.

Advent says that God’s love for you is more than academic and theoretical. That love led Him from a manger to a cross, where His death once and for all gave your life meaning and purpose and value. He really did think you were to die for.

In the next 13 days, it’s always good to remember those we love and choose gifts that represent how much the people in our lives mean to us.

But don’t forget the best gift is already given. The best gift came wrapped in cloth, delivered in a dirty animal feeding trough, born to die so that you who are dead may know what it means to come alive to God and everything good.

What is my gift in return? Me. What is your gift? You.

Not your good works. Not your best intentions. Not your trophies and awards.

You. Right where you are, just as you are, warts and scars and all.

Like 2,000 years ago in a little barn, all God is looking for is a place to start.

Crazy Little Thing Called Fear

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I’ve heard that the command “Don’t be afraid” (or some variation of it) occurs 365 times in the Bible. Then I read somewhere else that it’s nowhere near that many times. I’ve read arguments on both sides.

First of all, is it really necessary to argue over everything? Is it so all-important to be proven right all the time?

I know this command is used more than the commands to “Love others” or “Tithe more” or any other. I know it’s because we’re fearful people, prone to worrying. I’ve known fear for much of my own life. Too much in fact.

Jon Acuff mentioned that his favorite verse about fear comes in Matthew where Jesus tells us we are worth more than birds, whom the Father feeds and clothes and takes care of. He uses the most common example so there’s practically nowhere I can go without a visual reminder of why it’s safe to trust Jesus instead of listening to my fears.

Fear has kept me bound to the past, to shame, to the humdrum. Fear has kept me from stepping out on adventures and trying new things.

Maybe fear has kept you from asking that certain someone out on a date.

Maybe fear has kept you from going deeper in your marriage and dealing with all those unresolved issues.

Maybe fear has kept you bound to a job you hate, to a routine that feels more like a rut, to a life without much meaning.

There’s no such thing as a comfortable adventure or a safe quest. Bravery isn’t the absence of fear, but going forward even though you feel like crying and throwing up and passing out all at the same time.

I’ve always loved this definition of courage: “Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I’ll try again tomorrow.”

May you find that the perfect love of Jesus really does cast out all fear.

May you step out in faith even in the midst of fear to find out the bridge built on planks of thanksgiving and joy really does hold (thanks to Ann Voskamp for that one) and that Jesus will be with you in the fieriest furnaces and the darkest nights and the coldest days.

Fear ends. The love of Jesus never will.

That’s where my hope lies.

Following a Star and a Promise

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I’m prefacing this by stating that I don’t know a whole lot about these wise men of biblical fame. I mean, where did they come from? Were there just three or were there more who accidentally happened to bring the same gifts? (I’m sure that would have been awkward even then).

I do know they came from a great distance based solely on a single star in the sky and the promise of a Messiah, an Anointed One.

I do know it probably took them a few years to make the journey from home to Bethlehem. I also know they didn’t arrive at the location of Jesus’ birth, but probably a year or two later when the family was settled in a home.

I wonder what it was like for them to travel out into a foreign country with nothing concrete to go on except that solitary star and an ancient promise.

I feel like that sometimes. Maybe you do, too.

You’ve stepped outside of everything that’s familiar with only the promises and the presence of Jesus to guide you. You don’t know exactly where you are going or what you will find when you get there, other than that Jesus will be there.

I imagine it would have been so very easy for the wise men to get sidetracked and tempted to settle for a  comfortable oasis along the way. Or maybe a small village where the locals are friendly and the food is good.

I’m certain that the daily ritual of camping for the night, packing it all up, and setting out again got old quick. I get bored on a car trip that lasts more than 5 hours. I can’t imagine 2 or 3 years of constant travelling.

History shows that they were faithful to the journey’s end. They were faithful to the promise, faithful to keep it sacred and safe from men like Herod who wanted to destroy it.

I’m hoping that you and I will be just as diligent and faithful on our own journeys. May you and I find the Christ not only awaiting us at the end of the road, but feel His presence along the way as well.

 

Advent Time Is Here

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I’m a total and complete geek when it comes to all things Christmas. I love gaudy decorations (the gaudier the better), sentimental Christmas movies, old-school Christmas music, and all those seasonal drinks like egg nog and peppermint mocha and all things pumpkin spice.

A few years back, I discovered about Advent. I always thought it was a creepy Catholic thing (not that I’m saying there’s anything more creepy about Catholics than about Baptists).

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I bought a really nice edition of The Book of Common Prayer and started reading the collects related to the four Sundays of Advent. I found a great Advent devotional called The Christ of Christmas by Calvin Miller, with devotionals for the 31 days of December.

I love the idea behind the five Advent candles, starting with the candle of hope, or the Prophecy Candle. I love the imagery of the verses from Isaiah 11 that go with it:

“But a shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom. The spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him: a spirit of wisdom and of understanding, A spirit of counsel and of strength, a spirit of knowledge and of fear of the Lord, and his delight shall be the fear of the Lord (Isaiah 11:1-3 NABRE).”

I recently heard Ann Voskamp talk about the imagery here. New life coming from death, the rotting stump of a broken life. Out of the wreckage comes a hope and a future. Out of the smoldering ruins of my dashed hopes and crushed dreams comes a new hope growing in the very spot where those hopes and dreams perished.

Week two is all about preparation, the Bethlehem Candle. Will I choose to make my heart a Bethlehem to receive the coming infant King? Will I be ready to find Him when He arrives not in the pomp and splendor of a throne but in a dirty trough that animals feed in?

Did I mention how much I love Advent? I’m still figuring out how to fully savor these four weeks not get caught up in that “one more present, one more party” mentality.

Look for Part Two coming one week from tonight. Until then, feel free to partake in some pumpkin spice egg nog.

One Weird Weekend

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Forgive me if I’m having trouble remembering what day it is. Let me explain. No, there is no time. Let me sum up. (A shiny nickel to the first person to correctly guess what movie I just referenced).

I worked Wednesday. Tracking so far?

I had Thursday off, since it was Thanksgiving aka Turkey Day aka National Food Coma Day.

I had Friday off, because it’s Black Friday aka National Recovery from Yesterday’s Food Coma Day.

I worked today.

I’m off tomorrow.

Where am I? Who am I? What year is it?

Ok, it’s not quite that bad yet. I know it’s still 2013 for another 31 days. I know there are 24 shopping days until Christmas.

Sometimes, we all lose our way. We forget who we are and why we’re here. We forget that it’s about more than just you and me in our tiny well-ordered lives.

As Rick Warren most famously said, it’s not about you. It never has been. It has been, is, and will always be all about God. But God has invited you and me to be a part of what He’s doing. We get to be conduits of blessing that bring Him glory.

I forget who I am. I forget Whose I am: I am the Beloved of my Abba, the one in whom He is well pleased.

I forget why I’m here. And my purpose is this: “Celebrate always, pray constantly, and give thanks to God no matter what circumstances you find yourself in. This is God’s will for all of you in Jesus the Anointed” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18).

To celebrate God’s goodness. To pray without ceasing. To give thanks in everything. That is God’s will for me. Yeah, it’s that simple.

I needed that reminder. I hope you did, too. And it is Saturday, FYI.