faith

Growing Young: What Maturing in the Faith Looks Like

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I listen to a lot of talk about what it means to grow up in the faith. A lot of it sounds like variations of “buckle down, grit your teeth, and try harder” or “have better morals” or “follow this 10-step plan to guaranteed maturity in six months or less.”

My idea of Christian maturity is becoming a child all over again. It’s about growing young.

I don’t mean acting childish. There is a world of difference between being childish and being childlike. You’ve all been around kids enough to tell one from the other.

Children aren’t shy about admitting their dependence. They know they need help– and lots of it. They aren’t embarrassed to seek out that help.

Too often, believers buy into the lie that you have to figure it all out on your own. That your own spiritual growth is up to you. Jesus saved you, but from now on it’s all up to you.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for the disciplines of the faith and training your body, mind, and spirit to follow hard after Christ.

The best way to grow is to grow in community with those who will encourage and support you (as well as occasionally challenging you and holding you accountable). The most mature believers are the ones least ashamed to ask for help when they know they need it. They are the most aware of their own flaws and weaknesses and the grace that covers all their sin.

Christianity is all about “we” not “I”. That’s why God instituted the Church. He never intended for Lone Ranger Christians to strike out on their own and try to mature in solitude.

I still love the idea of a declaration of dependence. That’s what the Christian faith is all about. It’s not a DIY religion but an every day surrender and dependence on God and His grace. Your greatest strength still lies in surrendering and submission.

 

 

A Good Night

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So I inadvertently recycled my sunglasses tonight.

I was in the process of depositing several plastic bottles into one of the recycle containers in the Connection Center of Brentwood Baptist Church (also known as The Place Where They Have Kairos on Tuesdays).

I’m still not exactly sure of the order of events (or even 100% positive of the sunglasses part) but I believe that when I bent down to beautify the planet by not adding to the already overflowing landfills and being green and all that, my sunglasses slipped off my shirt and into the container (along with one unopened water bottle that I fully intended to drink).

Something a guy I work with came to mind: if that’s the worst thing that happens to me tonight, I’m having a good night.

Later, the main speaker, Chris Brooks, said something that arrested my attention. He said that while emotions can be very real, they aren’t always reliable. Immediately, my mind went to Jeremiah 17:9 where the heart, the seat of all emotions, is described as “most devious and incurably sick.”

I’ve learned that one the hard way over the years. Trial and error have taught me never to trust my emotions when I’m fatigued or hungry (and especially not when it’s a combination of the two).

While feelings can be legitimate, they can be misleading. I remember something a friend said once that I’ve never forgotten– feelings can lie to you, so you go with what you know.

In my case, I remember that Jesus promised that everything would turn out fine in the end (and if it’s not fine, it’s not yet the end). Jesus promised that He’d work all things together for good. Jesus promised never to leave or forsake me.

I cling to these promises when my feelings tell me they have failed. I hold fast to what Jesus said over what I feel because while my feelings come and go, Jesus’ words are eternal and secure.

I ended up making a late night run to Kroger’s and picking up another pair of shades just like the ones I accidentally discarded. Next time, I hope I’ll be a little less careless when saving the planet.

 

Being Good Stewards

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“But as certainly as God created man in His image, He first created the earth. With the same care He designed  sixty thousand miles of blood vessels in the human body, He also crafted hydrangeas and freshwater rapids and hummingbirds. He balanced healthy ecosystems with precision and established climates and beauty. He integrated colors and smells  and sounds that would astonish humanity. The details He included while designing the earth are so extraordinary, it is no wonder He spend five of the six days of creation on it.

So why don’t we care for the earth anywhere near to the degree we do our bodies? Why don’t we fuss and examine and steward creation with the same tenacity? Why aren’t we refusing complicity in the ravaging of our planet? Why aren’t we determined to stop pillaging the earth’s resources like savages? Why do we mock environmentalists and undermine their passion for conservation? Do we think ourselves so superior to the rest of creation that we are willing to deplete the earth to supply our luxuries? If so, we may very well be the last generation who gets that prerogative” (Jen Hatmaker, 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess).

It really bothers me that people will go out of their way NOT to recycle. It may seem like such a small detail, but I think it’s a symptom of a lackadaisical disregard for the planet we live on.

We are called to be stewards. So why then do we act so often like consumers and users instead? If we honor God by honoring His creation, do we dishonor Him when we abuse and disregard what He has made?

What are we telling our children about the value of creation when we don’t take care of it and waste its resources?

I’m asking these questions because I am trying to figure this all out for myself. I don’t want to be another of those who are wasteful because they believe that our earth’s resources are unlimited.

At the end of the day, I’m thankful for grace that is greater than any of my wastefulness and greed and selfishness. I’m thankful for grace greater than any of my sin.

 

 

Kudos to all the Dads Out There

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Fathers get a bad rap. Sure, they get one day out of the year where we celebrate them in the aptly named Father’s Day. We buy them greeting cards and lots of neck ties.

The rest of the time, we seem to get the impression (from a lot of the media and culture out there) that they really aren’t all that necessary.

Nothing could be more wrong.

Of course, there are  lots of well-adjusted, normal, and productive people who were raised by single mothers out there. I give a shout-out to all those women out there who are pulling double duty as both mother and father. You deserve every bit of praise that comes your way.

I still believe that the best environment for a child is one where the father is present. There are certain things that are taught best by fathers. A boy can best learn how to be a gentleman from his father. A son best learns how to treat women by watching how the father treats the mother.

I admit that there are lots of bad examples of fathers who are abusive and domineering. I confess that a lot of people are uncomfortable with the idea of God as Father because of their upbringing and all the pain and suffering caused by their own earthly fathers.

Still, I think there’s nothing quite as beautiful as a father speaking affirmation over his children, drawing out the strength in his sons and the beauty in his daughters. Their words have incredible power to build up and create as much as to tear down and destroy.

The best way to be a father is to put your children third. I know it sounds scandalous, but here’s how it should look. The order should be God first, wife second, children third.

Thanks to all the fathers out there who are loving their families sacrificially on a daily basis. None of them are perfect and none of them will ever get it 100% right but they are the ones who keep showing up and never giving up on themselves or their wives or their children. They know they can’t do it without a lot of help so they start out every day on their knees before God in a posture of submission and surrender for the strength to be the best fathers possible.

Kudos to you.

 

The Shortest Blog Ever?

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I’ve been laying in bed, staring at my Mac for the last 20 minutes and thinking about something clever and witty to write about. Or really just something at all. Anything.

I went to our farm today to celebrate my sister’s birthday. Well, it really isn’t a farm, but it’s been in the family for a long, long time.

There are so many memories tied to that place that sometimes I get overwhelmed by them all and I start missing the people in my life that I used to see there. Today, I missed both my uncles and my grandparents in a way that was almost tangible.

Perhaps, the part to remember isn’t how much I miss them, but how lucky and blessed I was to have them in my life, even if that time didn’t seem long enough.

It reminds me to cherish the ones who are still in my life because I don’t ever know how long any of them will be there.

Maybe even I should cherish each day that I’m given because I (along with everyone else) am not guaranteed a tomorrow.

Thoughts on the Book of Jeremiah

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In my quest to read through the Bible in a year (again), I’ve made it to Jeremiah. I confess that the prophetic section of the Old Testament can be hard to read at times — I see time and time again where God’s patience runs out as the Israelites have abandoned Him and chased after other gods for so long.

I also see hope. I love the parts where God speaks of restoring His children to their land and to their former glory. Even though they deserve annihilation because of all their philandering and idolatry, God has promised after a time to bring them back to their home.

That gives me great hope. It means that the worst part of your story is never the last part. The part where the darkness seems never-ending and where hope seems so far away is not the last chapter. The ending is so much better.

Elisabeth Elliot once said that God’s story never ends with ashes. It never ends in exile and despait. Death and destruction do not have the last word. Neither does evil.

The terrorists do not win in the end. Fear and violence will one day be forever past tense. Love and mercy will be the currency of the new world order.

I truly believe in my heart of hearts that one day Jesus will come back and set everything right again. What got derailed in Eden will finally be fully and forever realized.

There’s a beautiful verse that speaks about how overjoyed the people will be when they see Jerusalem restored. It will be like dreaming with your eyes wide open, too good to be true yet still very much true.

The best part (to me) will be that all the pain and suffering that seems now like it will never end will one day seem light and momentary compared to the glory and joy that’s coming. It won’t even begin to compare.

All that from one little book in the Bible.

 

 

A Little Glen Frey for the Night Ride Home

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Note: I inadvertently took the night off from blogging last night after getting home a bit late. I supposed I was more tired than I had originally though.

My Wednesday adventure started off after work with dinner at The Smiling Elephant. For those not from Nashville or not familiar with this place, it is an amazingly fantastic Thai restaurant a little over a mile down the road from my church, The Church at Avenue South.

I had some Pad Kra Pao on a dare (to myself). It was super spicy. I was quoting Paris Hilton non-stop– “That’s hot.” It’s probably the hottest, spiciest thing I’ve eaten on purpose (not counting that wasabi that I thought was guacamole).

From there, I went to Ave South for a Summer Series Bible Study, led by my friend Parker Bradley on 1 Timothy 3. It could have been very dry and academic, but he did a great job of making it interesting and relevant.

After, some of us headed over to The Sutler, where I had maybe the best dessert known to man. I don’t remember the name, but I remember that it had chocolate and peanut brittle and about 50,000 calories. It was Christmas and Easter combined and made edible. It was that good.

On the way home, I had the music of one Mr. Glenn Frey to keep me company. It was one of the rare moments when the music matched my mood and perfectly fit the nighttime setting.

More people are familiar with his work with the Eagles, but not as many know about his solo projects. He was as good a musician, singer, and songwriter as just about anyone in the business. He was the real deal.

I got home and had some quality therapy time with one very sleepy and very geriatric cat (you probably know her as Lucy the Wonder Cat a.k.a. Lucy Furr).

It was one of those days filled with a multitude of small blessings and graces that I hope I’ll always remember for as long as I live.

 

Random Life Lesson

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If I could give you one random life lesson, it’d be this– celebrate the life you have and not the life you wish you had. Enjoy the season of life you’re in by living in it rather than merely marking time until the next season or pining over the last one.

If this isn’t where you want to be, make the most of the present by preparing yourself now for who you want to be when that life you really want does come around. If you’re single, that means you work on being the right person more than looking for the right person. As my pastor said more than once, when the time comes, you can’t start getting ready– you have to be ready.

Most of what really constitutes life happens while we’re busy making other plans. Or to rephrase it for more modern times, life is what happens when you’re looking down at your phone and texting about what you wish would happen. Oh, the delicious irony.

It’s not the grand cinematic moments that you remember most fondly. It’s a combination of several unobtrusive small moments that add up to great memories.

Don’t base your identity on what might happen and on the next phase– in other words, if you’re single, don’t define yourself in terms of a future spouse, or if you’re married, in terms of future children. Let God be the one who tells you who you are now and let that define how you live in the future, spouse or no spouse, children or no children.

As the old Robert Earl Keen song says, all you have is today. So much time and effort is wasted on worrying about what probably will never be. So much energy is depleted in obsessing over possible scenarios that never come to pass.

Just enjoy your present for the gift that it is.

 

The Silent Friend 

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“When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares” (Henri Nouwen, Out of Solitude: Three Meditations on the Christian Life)

In the book of Job is the story of one man’s tragedy. Job loses his possessions, his family, and his health.

One of the most beautiful moments in the book is when Job’s friends come to him and sit in silence with him. They share in his grief and communicate their love for him in a way that transcends words.

That’s far and away the best thing they did for him. It’s only when they opened their mouths that they got themselves into trouble.

Maybe these days what our friends need from us, more than any well-intentioned words, is our silent presence in the midst of their sorrows. What they need is to know that we grieve with them, we mourn with them, we hurt with them.

We may not always agree with their beliefs or their choices but we can still love them as God has loved us through our sometimes sinful choices.

“To care means first of all to empty our own cup and to allow the other to come close to us. It means to take away the many barriers which prevent us from entering into communion with the other. When we dare to care, then we discover that nothing human is foreign to us, but that all the hatred and love, cruelty and compassion, fear and joy can be found in our own hearts. When we dare to care, we have to confess that when others kill, I could have killed too. When others torture, I could have done the same. When others heal, I could have healed too. And when others give life, I could have done the same. Then we experience that we can be present to the soldier who kills, to the guard who pesters, to the young man who plays as if life has no end, and to the old man who stopped playing out of fear for death.

By the honest recognition and confession of our human sameness, we can participate in the care of God who came, not to the powerful but powerless, not to be different but the same, not to take our pain away but to share it. Through this participation we can open our hearts to each other and form a new community” (Henri Nouwen).

Praying for Orlando

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I, like so many of you, was horrified by what I saw on my social media feed. a gunman murdered 50 people in a night club early this morning.

Regardless of your stance on the LBGTQ community, we should all mourn the devastating loss of life. No one should celebrate when someone else dies. Ever.

Remember, each one of these victims was someone’s son or daughter, brother or sister,  aunt or uncle. More than that, each was an individual created in the image of God and therefore possessing inherent value. Each was someone Jesus willingly went to the cross and died for.

I’m praying for the families of these victims tonight. I’m praying that God can take what was meant for pure evil and turn it into something good. I know that in God’s plan, tragedy and loss will not have the last word. God’s story never ends with ashes.

I read a post that said that those that died got what they deserved because of their lifestyles. All I know is that I wouldn’t want to get what I deserve based on some of the choices I’ve made in the past. I don’t want karma. I want and desperately need grace.

Hatred cannot overcome hatred. Only love can do that. Only the love of God as expressed in the person of Jesus can do that. Only a kind of love that was willing to lay down its life for enemies can do that.

In response to so much senseless tragedy and horror, I say, “Come, Lord Jesus, come. Only You have the power to set things right again and to wipe away the tears from every eye and to vanquish evil and hate and the lies once and for all. Only you can make a happy ending out of so much sadness. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.”