Christianity

I’m Dreaming of a Crisp Autumn

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gatsby_quote

I think I have been sweating non-stop since June. It’s been that hot. I believe that I am less tolerant of the heat than before, if that’s even possible.

What that means is this. I am officially ready for fall. I am officially and categorically and emphatically over summer. At least the 90+ degree weather part. And the 90% humidity.

I am ready for flannel and caramel apple spice. I’m ready for jackets and hot chocolate. I’m ready for crisp autumn breezes and leaves changing colors on the trees. I am ready to not sweat so much all the time. I’m ready for autumn.

I realize that I can’t realistically expect autumn temperatures until probably at least mid-October. I can dream of an early cool spell in August or September where the highs are in the 80’s instead of the 90’s. Maybe even the 70’s.

I suppose in the meantime I can watch movies like When Harry Met Sally that are set primarily during the autumn season. I can pray without ceasing that the air conditioning never goes out.

Only 65 more days until autumn (for those who are counting). Like me.

 

What to Do in Light of Recent Events

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Alton Sterling. Philando Castile. Brent Thompson. Patrick Zamarripa. Michael Krol.  Lorne Ahrens. Mike Smith.

These are the names of the men who died recently. They were all human beings, created in the image of God. They were all people that Jesus bled and died for. That gives each one of them great worth and should merit our grief at their passing.

Based on what I heard in a sermon today, this is what I believe we should do in light of these recent tragic events.

  1. Pray. Pray a lot. I don’t mean the polite and genteel kind of praying that you do before meals or in Sunday School. I mean the kind where you come boldly before the throne of grace with sighs and groans and tears of intercession. Pray like the life of the nation depended on it, because it very well may.
  2. Don’t jump to conclusions without knowing all the facts. It’s typical to assume that a) anyone shot by a police officer must automatically be a criminal and a thug in the very act of committing a heinous crime or b) that any police officer who shots anyone of color must automatically be a racist. The mistake Job’s friends made was trying to figure out who to blame instead of trying to ease the pain of Job’s suffering.
  3. The best thing Job’s friends did throughout the story was what they did first. They sat down in silence with their friend in his grief and pain. They didn’t offer words. They offered their presence. Maybe more than all our explanations or arguments what people need from us is our comforting presence, to weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice.
  4. Confess that while we may not be racists, that’s not enough. Too many of us watch in silence and do nothing in the face of great evil. Our silence often equates to our consent of the evil. We must repent of a long history of impeding the quest for racial equality and harmony. We must do better to love our neighbors who don’t look and speak and act like us.

I must confess that I have too often rushed to hasty judgment instead of rushing to my knees in prayer. I confess that I have harbored prejudicial thoughts toward those different than I. I confess that I was one of the ones who gave consent to evil by my silence rather than speaking out against the wrong.

Lord, forgive us all. Lord, make us one as you are One. Lord, help us to love our neighbors and ourselves as you have loved us.

Amen.

 

Still Waiting for My Inevitable Stardom to Take Effect

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I’m closing in on the sixth anniversary of my first ever blog (ta-da!) and this is my 2,155th post since then. As I write it, I’m in bed with a very sleepy and very geriatric cat on the pillow next to me. I feel everyone should have at least one geriatric cat but maybe that’s just me.

It’s not even officially summer and I’m already sweating almost non-stop. I love living in the South with the one notable exception of all the humidity. For those of us with curly hair, the struggle is real. I understand that the wonderful mix of heat and humidity will probably be like the house guest who overstays his welcome (or until some time in mid-October).

I still entertain notions that one day my little blog will blow up and my views will skyrocket into the millions (or more realistically, the hundreds). Given my eccentricities and my tendency to blog about random things, I know not to hold my breath. Still, a guy can dream, right?

For those living with deferred dreams, don’t give up. God’s timetable is not yours and He never does anything until the moment is perfect and the person is ready. Remember that if you’re still waiting, it’s because what you’re waiting for is bigger than  you can handle at the present.

Remember above all that God alone is sufficient. Often, He makes us wait because He wants us to cherish the Giver as much as the gifts. He wants us to be completely satisfied with Him alone, with or without the gifts.

Stop defining yourself by your marital status or your job title or your paycheck. That’s not ultimately who you are. You are first and foremost what God your Maker says you are– and that definition is Beloved. You are still God’s Beloved.

 

My Prayer for You

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 “It is for this reason that I bow my knees before the Father, after whom all families in heaven above and on earth below receive their names, and pray:

Father, out of Your honorable and glorious riches, strengthen Your people. Fill their souls with the power of Your Spirit so that through faith the Anointed One will reside in their hearts. May love be the rich soil where their lives take root. May it be the bedrock where their lives are founded so that together with all of Your people they will have the power to understand that the love of the Anointed is infinitely long, wide, high, and deep, surpassing everything anyone previously experienced. God, may Your fullness flood through their entire beings” (Ephesians 3:14-19, The Voice).

This is my prayer for all of you tonight, as originally prayed by the Apostle Paul.

2,115 Posts? Really?

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“One of the most satisfying aspects of writing is that it can open in us deep wells of hidden treasures that are beautiful for us as well as others to see” (Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey).

This July will mark six years since I started writing these blogs. For me, that’s a long time. There have been very few things that I have done consistently for that long, outside of eating and breathing and such.

Part of me still hopes that one day my posts will blow up and my readership will escalate into the millions and I will be able to retire from my job and write blogs exclusively. Part of me still hopes that chocolate is low-calorie and fat-free. You can’t have everything you want.

Even if this never becomes anything more than a hobby and a release, that’s just fine with me. These have been extremely therapeutic for me and helpful for many of you. That’s enough for me.

I said it before quite a few times and I say it again– I’d write these blogs even if I were the only one reading them. I really really would.

I have enjoyed writing them much more since I finally got my Mac Book Pro. I do feel a bit more hipster-y and cool, though I am still a goober at heart (in case you were beginning to get worried).

Faith will always inform everything I write on here, whether it’s overtly faith-based or not. That’s who I am. That will always be who I am.

2,115 posts. It does boggle the mind. Well, it boggles MY mind. At an average of 300 words per blog, that comes to over 634,000 words. That’s more than the word count in the novel War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy. I should know. I just looked it up on google to be sure.

My next goal is one million words. But as always, my main goal is to be authentic and encouraging and (sometimes) challenging. Maybe one day I’ll finally break down and write that novel. Maybe.

 

Mr. Irrelevant Strikes Back

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They’re baaaaaack.

That’s right. The NFL Draft has returned, and all those wonderful commentators have come back to give their pick-by-pick analysis all the way from the very first player selected in the first round to the very last player selected in the final round (ignominiously known as Mr. Irrelevant).

There have been some great picks (like Denver selecting Paxton Lynch in the first round) and some head-scratchers (a kicker in the second round?)

If you’re actually paying attention to all this, you know that we still have rounds 4-7 left tomorrow. Then last but not least is Mr. Irrelevant himself.

I love that in the kingdom of God there’s no such thing as Mr. Irrelevant. Every person is important because every person matters to God.

Many of you probably know what it’s like to feel irrelevant. You can be in the middle of a group and feel totally left out of a conversation. Or you could be the only one not invited to a get-together where later everyone who was there shares photos through all the social media outlets.

I love the fact that when God chose you, it wasn’t because you were the only one left. It wasn’t like He got you because He was stuck with you, like the team captain with the last pick in kickball.

God was intentional and purposeful when He made you. He was just as deliberate in choosing you. God wants and desires a relationship with you that will bring out your very best self.

There is never a moment that goes by when you are not on God’s mind and in God’s heart. Never. Remember that when you feel forgotten and abandoned by everyone else in your life.

As for Mr. Irrelevant, some actually ended up making an NFL team. A few even ended up in the Super Bowl. Not bad for the last man chosen.

 

A Living Sermon

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There’s an older gentleman that I see on Mondays when I volunteer at Room in the Inn. He isn’t one of the homeless men who get bussed in. He’s one of the many volunteers who faithfully devote their Monday nights to serving these men.

I noticed one night that he was missing part of his right arm. I didn’t think a whole lot about it. I figured it was probably something to do with diabetes. Then I read this and my world got blown up (in a good way):

The Best Sermon I Never Preached

I don’t need to add anything to that. I teared up a bit as I heard one of the volunteers read this tonight at our last Room in the Inn for the season. The guy who read it got choked up.

The lessons for tonight are 1) don’t take any part of your life for granted, 2) appreciate each moment as the rare and precious gift that it is, and 3) remember that worship is still the best medicine there is for what ails you.

 

Busted Brackets

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I did my civic duty tonight. No, I didn’t vote. I filled out my NCAA basketball tournament brackets (nine in all).

Some of them I played straight. I picked all the #1 seeds to win. On some others, I just went plain crazy. I picked just about every game to be an upset.

It hit me as I was filling in these brackets. As you know, no 16 seed has ever beaten a 1 seed in the NCAA tournament. Ever.

There have been a few #15 seeds upset the #2 seeds and a few more #14 seeds pull a shocker over their 3 seed counterpart, but no 16 seed has ever beaten a 1 seed since the tournament expanded to 64 teams back in the 80’s.

What hit me was this: what God did for me in saving me was the equivalent of a #16 seed winning the whole enchilada. Or if you will, the 64th best team (think Austin Peay) winning the national championship.

I’m definitely not saying that God’s the underdog in this story. I am. On my own, I had absolutely no shot of making it out of the first round. I was the equivalent of a team of corpses.

But God made me alive in Christ. He raised me up with supernatural power. in Jesus, I have become more than a conqueror. My salvation story is akin to that Austin Peay team reaching the finals and beating those mighty Kansas Jayhawks in the national championship game.

A pipe dream? Maybe. But I know that in God what seems impossible to me and you is possible for God. In fact, it’s not even remotely difficult for God (thanks again to Pete Wilson for that one).

I have a feeling that most of my brackets will be busted and broken by the Sweet Sixteen. I know that spiritually speaking, my life in God will never ever be busted and broken because I serve a God who knows the way out of hell and the grave.

The end.

 

Every Little Thing Matters

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“Lord, when I feel that what I’m doing is insignificant and unimportant, help me to remember that everything I do is significant and important in your eyes, because you love me and you put me here, and no one else can do what I am doing in exactly the way I do it” (Brennan Manning, Souvenirs of Solitude: Finding Rest in Abba’s Embrace).

That’s it.

As Mother Teresa once said, there are no great acts, but rather only small acts done with great love.

To put it another way, when done out of the right spirit, out of a genuine and abiding love for Jesus, everything you do and say can become an act of worship. Even cleaning toilets or scrubbing floors. All those menial tasks that don’t have much inherent value can be living prayers if they’re done as an offering to Jesus.

That makes all the difference in drudgery and delight, between surviving and thriving.

Maybe you’re not exactly in the high-profile career you thought you’d be in by now. Maybe you’re not pulling down the big bucks.

Then again maybe your job is to make a difference in the lives of those people in your office. Maybe your best gift is to be quite possibly the only positive light to someone who otherwise only exists in darkness.

Maybe you don’t have to go to seminary and get ordained to have a ministry. Maybe your ministry is you showing up every single day and giving your absolute very best for eight hours.

Maybe if you’re faithful in the little things over time, God will entrust you with bigger things down the road.

Or maybe you’ll get to the end of your life and realize that all those little things done with great love really were the big things after all.

 

A Little Shakespeare For Your Soul

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“Sigh No More, Ladies…”

(From "Much Ado about Nothing")
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh nor more;
    Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea and one on shore,
    To one thing constant never;
        Then sigh not so,
        But let them go,
    And be you blithe and bonny;
Converting all your sounds of woe
    Into. Hey nonny, nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no mo,
    Or dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men was ever so,
    Since summer first was leavy.
        Then sigh not so, 
        But let them go,
    And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
    Into hey, nonny, nonny.

I admit that I was craving a bit of Shakespeare on this rainy Thursday. I put in my blu ray of the 1993 adaptation of Much Ado About Nothing.

It’s good to go back to the classics every now and then. It’s good to hear dialogue that actually makes you smarter and increases your love of the language.

It’s always good to go back to ancient wisdom.

I’m reminded of that as I’m reading through the Bible again.

Some of it is hard to take. I see where the people of God chosen by God have acted like anything but God’s own. They have run after anything and everything to fill a void that only God can fill.

Sadly, I can relate after too many times of doing that very thing myself. Many times, prayer and God will be last resorts after everything else has failed instead of my first go-to. As frustrated as I can get with those Israelites, I confess that I am too much like them sometimes.

The ultimate story of the Bible is God’s quest to woo His own people to Himself with a love that refuses to be defeated or deferred.

As for Shakespeare, I watched about half the movie and I feel like my IQ has gone up about 10 points. I call that a win.