Tim

  

It’s one thing when you look at the statistics about homelessness in America, but it’s an entirely different matter when you get the chance to talk with someone who’s homeless. Putting a face on any issue automatically changes how you see it. 

I met Tim tonight at Room in the Inn. He’s a gregarious and friendly fellow who has probably never met a stranger. 

He also found out recently that he has stage 2 colon cancer.

He’s the one who can cheer up just about anybody with his off-the-wall, zany brand of humor. He can make anyone forget about their problems for a while. But who will be the one to cheer him up now that he’s facing an uncertain future?

I’m fairly certain that my 3-year old niece has more teeth in her head than Tim does in his. He won’t grace the cover of any GQ magazines anytime soon. But I’d rather hang out with him than with any superstar I could think of, because Tim is the real deal. 

 When you look at numbers on a page, it’s easy to say that people are homeless because they’re lazy and undisciplined. But when you meet someone and see that he or she’s not that much different than you, then the issue becomes a bit more complicated. 

I bet you’ve probably met some without realizing it because many of those who are homeless may look and act and talk just like you or me.

If you want to make a difference, you can never go wrong with a little compassion and a listening ear. 

Most of these guys want more than anything to be heard and to be acknowledged. And boy, do they have some good stories to tell if you’re willing to listen. 

 It’s only by the grace of God that I’m not sleeping outside tonight. Before I close my eyes on my soft pillow in my cozy bed, I’ll be saying a prayer for Tim and thanking God for another example of how His blessings so often come in disguise.

 

My 1,700th Blog (Ta-da!)

I hit another milestone today with blog #1,700. It all started on July 25, 2010, almost five years ago, and has been a fun ride ever since then. I’m still surprised that people actually read these things. And I still don’t like the word “blog.” Here’s my very first blog if you want to see where it all started way back when.

https://oneragamuffin.wordpress.com/2010/07/25/hello-world/

I also figured out today that it’s been 1,059 days since my last carbonated beverage. I googled that bit of information, in case you’re wondering. And no, it’s not out of any kind of religious or moral beliefs. It’s mostly a health-conscious decision. No, I don’t miss them (even though I still dream about them from time to time).

I can look back and see a trajectory of grace in my life. I have done and said more than my share of really stupid stuff. I’ve gone through whole days and weeks of being in a not-so-healthy place, head-wise. Yet God still loves me as if I’d been perfect the whole time. That still amazes me.

I’m trying to be more health-conscious in my diet as well, cutting out breads and sugar (for the most part) and drinking more water. I’m down nine pounds so far and I feel better.

I’ve decided that not every one of these blogs will be Pulitzer-prize material. That’s okay. My aim isn’t perfect prose and I’m not trying to reach a million people. I just want to put me out there for someone to read and be able to relate to. Maybe even someone will find hope and healing in these (web)pages.

So for the 1,000th time, I say thanks to all of you both past and present who have read my posts. Although if you’ve quit reading them, you’re most likely not going to see this. Still I thank you anyway.

I hope to still be writing and blogging and posting my unique brand of zaniness five years from now.

God bless,

Still a ragamuffin trying to tell other ragamuffins where to find the Bread of Life

 

Lent Update for 2015

I have two more weeks to go for my Lent break from social media. So far, so good. More than having extra free time, the best part has been clearing my head and getting my perspective readjusted (again). As much as I love all things social media, it can mess with your head if you let it.

You know it’s time to step away for a bit when you start valuing your self-worth based on social media. I should know, being a recovering approval-addict. I’ve been there, done that, bought the t-shirt and worn it.

I’ll confess that not everything God has shown me during this season of Lent has been fun or easy. I’ve seen just how much I’m addicted to worry and stress and doubts. My faith is smaller than I thought, but I’m also finding out that God os much bigger than I ever imagined.

It’s been a long journey from that day on May 22. 2012 when I got laid off from my job. It hasn’t gone nearly the way I thought it would. But I have seen God’s provision and felt His nearness more in these past three years than ever before.

Lent is a way of me reminding myself that 1) God owns it all and controls it all, not me; 2) if I have God and nothing else, I’m better off than if I had everything but God; 3) it truly will be fine in the end because God said so, and if it’s not fine, then it’s not the end (to borrow a line from The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.

I think that covers it.

 

Snoring Dogs

I’m taking care of Millie, a 15-year old PBGV (for those like me who aren’t dog breed experts, that stands for Petit Basset Griffon Vendeed). She has a lot of energy for an elderly canine and likes to be petted. A lot.

She’s a very happy dog and very easy to take care of. The only downside is that she snores like a grown man and sometimes keeps me awake at night. She can be fully alert and awake one moment and completely asleep and snoring away the next. It cracks me up.

Oh, and sometimes it’s like she’s trying to tell me something, only I don’t speak dog-ese. I wonder if she ever gets frustrated with me when I don’t get what she’s trying to communicate.

I’m thankful that God is far more patient with me than I am with dogs. Or cats. Or people. He is infinitely patient in the truest sense.

Sometimes I need that kind of patience when I just don’t get it. Or when I do get it but just don’t want to obey.

God is good like that. And I’m grateful for that.

Spring Has Sprung (Again)

Officially, spring starts at the spring equinox at 6:45 pm EDT (or 5:45 for those lucky enough to be living in CST). For me, spring is here.

It certainly feels like spring. I can wear shorts and not have my legs turn blue, so to me that equals spring. Plus, all those flowers and leaves will soon be blooming everywhere. My apologies to those blessed with that lovely condition known as hay fever. You will be feeling it over the next few weeks.

I love seasons. True, I love fall most of all, but I love the fact that I live where there are four distinct seasons. It reminds me that in order for there to be new life, there must first be a death of sorts. I don’t think I’d love any one season if it lasted indefinitely. Even summer would get old for me after a while. I love summer because I know that autumn is not far behind. I love autumn because I know it is a harbinger of winter. I love winter because of the promise of spring. And I love spring because I know it’s a preparation for summer.

I’ve come to trust God in each season of my life. Whether that be a season of plenty or a season of lacking, I know that the same God of summer is the God of winter. I can be content whether my cup is running over or whether I’m empty-handed (to paraphrase the Apostle Paul).

To me, the lesson of the four seasons is that it is inevitable that God’s promises will come to pass. Just as winter turns into spring, God will whatever’s bad in my life into good. Just as spring passes into summer, so God will guide me through the difficult seasons of my own life. Just as summer morphs into fall, so my God will stay present in my life through every change of weather. And just as fall becomes winter, God will stay the same as He was in the other three seasons.

So yeah, I like spring.

Something New I Learned About Passover

Even at my ripe old age, I can still learn a thing or two.

As Jesus and His disciples prepared for Passover in the final week of His life, Jesus must have realized the symbolism of the meal was about to be realized. The bread was His body broken and the wine was His blood shed.

During the Passover meal, the bread is broken and the larger piece of it is hidden away in a linen cloth until the very end of the meal. And as you and I know, Jesus fulfilled the symbolism of the breaking of the bread by His death on the cross, from which He was taken, wrapped in a linen cloth, and “hidden” in a tomb for three days.

It’s amazing how knowing the cultural and historical background to the Bible so often immensely enriches the meaning of the Bible itself. I don’t claim to know even half of what the original hearers and readers of the New Testament would have understood when they read the words of writers like Paul and Mark and Luke and John.

I’m thankful that you don’t have to be a scholar with a Ph.D to read the Bible. Thanks to the doctrine of revelation, anyone can read God’s Word and understand the gist of what God is telling His people through His Holy Scriptures.

I’ve read through the Bible more than once. In fact, I’ve read through several different translations over the past few years. I don’t say that to brag, but to say that even now I will see something in the pages of the Bible that I hadn’t seen before. A passage that I had previously not paid much attention to will hit me in a new way that makes me pause.

That’s what it means when they say the Bible is living and active. It still speaks, no matter how many times or in how many different ways you read it and study it and memorize it and learn it. Even if you’re a slow learner like me.

 

Henri Nouwen and Lent in 2015

“O Lord, this holy season of Lent is passing quickly. I entered into it with fear, but also with great expectations. I hoped for a great breakthrough, a powerful conversion, a real change of heart; I wanted Easter to be a day so full of light that not even a trace of darkness would be left in my soul.

But I know that you do not come to your people with thunder and lightning. Even St. Paul and St. Francis journeyed through much darkness before they could see your light. Let me be thankful for your gentle way. I know you are at work. I know you will not leave me alone. I know you are quickening me for Easter – but in a way fitting to my own history and my own temperament.

I pray that these last three weeks, in which you invite me to enter more fully into the mystery of your passion, will bring me a greater desire to follow you on the way that you create for me and to accept the cross that you give to me. Let me die to the desire to choose my own way and select my own desire. You do not want to make me a hero but a servant who loves you.

Be with me tomorrow and in the days to come, and let me experience your gentle presence. Amen” (Henri Nouwen).

I think that says everything that’s in my heart in this season of Lent leading up to Easter Sunday on April 5, especially the part of dying to choosing my own way and selecting my own desire. That’s me. I have my own dreams and ideas of how my life should play out. God has different dreams and ideas for me. Seeing as how God’s ways are so much higher and better than mine, I would do well to yield to His ways over mine.

Lord, I lay my life at your feet. Make it shine brightly for You and for others to see You, regardless of the cost to me. Amen.

Love in General

“This is how we’ve come to understand and experience love: Christ sacrificed his life for us. This is why we ought to live sacrificially for our fellow believers, and not just be out for ourselves. If you see some brother or sister in need and have the means to do something about it but turn a cold shoulder and do nothing, what happens to God’s love? It disappears. And you made it disappear.

My dear children, let’s not just talk about love; let’s practice real love. This is the only way we’ll know we’re living truly, living in God’s reality. It’s also the way to shut down debilitating self-criticism, even when there is something to it. For God is greater than our worried hearts and knows more about us than we do ourselves” (1 John 3:16-20).

I heard something today in a sermon that struck home. The pastor, Aaron Bryant, basically said that many of us are so concerned about loving people that we neglect to love the person in front of us at any given moment. We can get so caught up in the theoretical idea of love in a general sense that we fail to love our neighbor in a very practical sense.

It’s one thing to talk of loving people, but quite another to love that difficult co-worker or that annoying neighbor. Maybe it’s a brother or sister that you don’t get along with and haven’t spoken to for weeks or months.

God does have a sense of humor. When you ask God for patience, He will send you to a situation or a person who will try what little patience you have. When you pray for someone to love, often He confronts you with someone who while not completely unlovable is far from easy to love.

Remember in those times that you were once that unlovable person. In loving you, God made you lovable. Maybe when you love someone else with that kind of love, they will become lovable as well. The most effective testimony is loving people well, especially those of the faith. The calling card of the early Church was how well they loved each other.

How can you love not just in general but specifically and practically? It starts with making time for that person. Making a phone call, sending a text, paying a visit, meeting that person for coffee, or making them feel welcome when they move into your neighborhood.

There’s a word for people who claim to love God but don’t love His people– hypocrites. If you say one thing and live another, you automatically invalidate your message.

As the Apostle John said, let’s love not just in word or speech or in theory but in deed and truth.

 

 

Blog #1,689

“Let nothing disturb thee;
Let nothing dismay thee:
All thing pass;
God never changes.
Patience attains
All that it strives for.
He who has God
Finds he lacks nothing:
God alone suffices.”
“Poem IX,” from the Complete Works St. Teresa of Avila (1963) Vol. 3, edited by E. Allison Peers

I couldn’t think of a better title for this blog, so I went with “Blog #1,689.” Not the most creative title ever, but hopefully the content will make up for it.

I’m thinking some of you out there are hanging onto faith by a thread. You’re like the father of the possessed boy who cried out to Jesus, “I believe. Help my unbelief (Mark 9:24).” You have a faith that barely qualifies as mustard seed-sized. But that is enough.

It’s not about how big and grand your faith is but about how big and grand God is. It’s not the size of your faith but the size of the object of your faith that counts, and God is plenty big. As in bigger than your problems, bigger than your doubts, bigger than your sometime unbelief, bigger than you. God has been, is, and will continue to be enough.

So I’m praying for you that you will see what God can do with just the tiniest bit of faith and consent. I’m praying you will be dazzled and amazed at how God comes through for you, almost never in the way or place or time you expected but always with perfect timing in the perfect place in the perfect way.

“Almighty, eternal and merciful God, whose Word is a lamp unto our feet and a light unto our path, open and illuminate our minds, that we may purely and perfectly understand your Word and that our lives may be conformed to what we have rightly understood, that in nothing we may be displeasing unto your majesty, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen” – (the daily morning prayer of Ulrich Zwingli, from Gregg Alison’s “Introduction to Historical Theology).

 

Two Thoughts on a Tuesday

I’m at my laptop, typing away. For the record, I’m still using my old Sony Vaio, so this blog is only 85% as cool as it could have been were I typing on a Mac Book Pro. But seeing as that is neither here nor there, I digress.

Sitting in Kairos tonight, I had a couple of thoughts unrelated to the sermon Mike Glenn was preaching. I do that often. But that’s also another blog for another day.

I had two distinct thoughts:

1) It really is never too late to start over and become who God created and designed you to be. Even if you’re a Grandma Moses at age 70, you can still start over. And there’s no shame in admitting that what you’ve been doing all this time isn’t what God has called you to. It may have been at some point, but now God is calling you to start again.

2) You don’t have to wait until you get where God is calling you to use your job as a mission field. You can start right now with where you are, even if that’s bagging groceries at Publix or sweeping floors in an office. After all, the Bible DOES tell us to do EVERYTHING to the glory of God, even mopping floors and cleaning public toilets.

The more you see your life not as something you’re entitled to but as an adventure you choose each day to participate in, a journey that God leads you through, the more you see that life truly is a gift and a blessing.

Yes, I’m thankful even for this old, slow laptop, even as it hinders my cool factor. I remember older desktops that were much slower (and even had dial-up internet connections!) So it’s all about perspective and being grateful for what you DO have (my Sony Vaio) as opposed to wishing and pining after what you don’t (a Mac Book Pro).