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Love on a Tuesday Night

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Mike Glenn spoke about love tonight at Kairos.

No, it was not another sermon on dating or marriage or romantic love. It was about loving Jesus and what that looks like.

It looks like obedience.

As unpopular a term as that may be, obedience defines my love for Jesus. In other words, if I love Jesus, I do what He says. If I don’t do what He says, I don’t love Him, no matter how many warm and fuzzy feelings I get in a worship setting or how well I talk of Jesus or even how much I know about Him.

If I love Jesus, I will do what He says. I will obey Him. Not only when it’s easy or convenient or rewarding.

I think the gauge for my level of obedience is to ask those around me who know me best. Ask them if I really live out what I say I believe. Ask them if I look and act like Jesus on a daily basis.

I do know I fail to be grateful for being so blessed. I have so many people in my life who show me exactly what loving Jesus looks like in lifestyles that model obedience and faithfulness. I have so many people who love me with the love of Jesus and forgive me with a forgiveness that can only come from Jesus.

I don’t have to feed 5,000. I just have to give a cup of cold water to one. I don’t have to build a hospital in Kenya. I just have to visit one sick person or provide something to wear for one person in need. I just have to be faithful today, in this moment, to what I know Jesus is calling me to do and to be.

I don’t ever have any excuse to be disobedient to Jesus. No matter how my obedience is received, no matter how people disdain my efforts, no matter if anyone notices, I still am called to not only hear the words of Jesus, but DO them. To put them into practice. To live them out.

Like every fallible human saved by grace, I could do a lot better. But I’m thankful that ultimately the love that counts most isn’t my love for Jesus, but His unfailing love for me.

Broken and Shared

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A friend of mine wrote these words: “Unless grapes and grain are broken there will be no bread and wine. Unless the broken are shared there will be no communion.”

Elisabeth Elliot wrote, “If my life is broken when given to Jesus, it may be because pieces will feed a multitude when a loaf would satisfy only a little boy.”

Sometimes, in order for God to use me, I have to be broken before I can be shared.

No, I take that back. EVERY time God gets ready to use me He starts first by breaking me. Every single time.

I don’t mean every time I completely fall apart and lose every possession and wind up destitute. I mean usually a dream of mine dies. Or a friend lets me down. Or I find myself overwhelmed by life.

It’s the day to day stuff that I stumble over most often. The big crises find me more calm and trusting in God’s strength and provision. But the small details get to me.

Dying to self isn’t always as grand and dramatic as taking a bullet for someone you love. It means dying a thousand times in a thousand small ways every day. It means dying to self-rights, to pride, to vanity, to my own way of seeing and doing things. Those are the hard deaths.

If you are going through brokenness, take comfort in this. God will bless so many more with your broken life than He could with your perfect life. Everything you’ve lost, God will restore a thousand fold, in the lives of a thousand people who find the hope of God’s provision in your story of ruin and redemption.

I still don’t like pain. I don’t like discomfort or inconvenience. I get impatient in front of the microwave, for crying out loud.

But I trust God’s leading. I trust His heart more than my own feelings, my own perceived need for comfort and safety and calm. Trusting that the bridge built with planks of thanksgiving and joy will hold up until I get all the way Home.

What Does the Fox Feel?

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A friend of mine posed a very good question tonight at Chick-fil-A. I mean, everyone knows what the fox SAYS, but does anyone care about how the fox FEELS? Maybe foxy, if the fox is female. But what if it’s a male fox?

I saw a fox running across the parking lot of Brentwood United Methodist Church. I’m not sure how he or she felt about the current state of affairs or local politics. I didn’t get the chance to ask.

I know how I feel: tired. The kind of tired that makes me want to turn into a hibernating hermit. The kind where the social butterfly turns into the cranky caterpillar.

After tonight’s Kairos message, I know the question on the Final Exam, the one Jesus will ask me, won’t be how I felt about Him or how much information I amassed about the Bible. It will be about what kind of person I was.

It’s interesting that the people Jesus praises in Matthew 26 for serving Him by serving the least of these will be totally taken by surprise. They will have been so engrossed in following Jesus and taking on His character that the serving will be second nature, something they do without even thinking about it.

Too often, I am too focused on me. I’m reminded of the great definition of humility, which is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less.

Some days, that comes easily. Some days, it’s all I can do to notice the people around me from being so wrapped up in my own pity party and overanalyzing every little thing.

I am learning to allow myself to be imperfect and to have bad days and to occasionally lose focus. It’s not okay to stay there and it’s not okay to take it out on others. What I do is give thanks for the good date and those around me who see me at my worst and love me and help to bring out my best.

Even foxes have days when they don’t feel so foxy.

Another Monday In the Books

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As with most Mondays, there’s the good, the bad, and the ugly.

The ugly? I’d go with my reflection in the mirror at 5:00 am. Not so much that I think I’m ugly, which I don’t. It’s just that no one looks good in the bathroom mirror at the pre-dawn hour of 5 am. Well, maybe Cindy Crawford, but I’m fairly certain she’s not human.

The bad? How about this? I left my lunch and my debit card at home. Whether I’ve totally lost my mind is up for debate, but if you happen to run across it, take good care of it for me. 😁

The good? I woke up this morning. I went to work. I ate three meals today. I walked to lunch and breathed in the crisp autumn air and breathed out all my worries.

That Eucharisteo that I keep talking about works. A thankful heart and a grateful spirit opens up your eyes to see so many more small gifts that ordinarily lie unopened, like all those gift cards that go unredeemed every year.

Gratitude makes what you have enough. Yes, I stole that from Ann Voskamp. But it’s true. If comparison is the thief of joy, then joy keeps that competitive spirit at bay. If you keep your eyes on Jesus and the joy of knowing Him, then you’re not consumed with keeping up with the Joneses.

Also, thankfulness shifts your perspective from what you don’t have (a spouse, children, your dream job, a mind, etc.) to what you do have (amazing friends, wonderful family, a place to live, food to eat, senses to enjoy life with, sunrises and sunsets, etc.).

I choose joy again today because joy is a choice that you make every single day. To not choose joy is to choose bitterness and envy and dissatisfaction. Basically, to choose to live defeated and discouraged.

I’ve lived that way and I know it’s no way to live. You’re no good for you or anybody else.

May you choose joy. May you embrace a spirit of Eucharisteo (joy with thanksgiving in grace) and find all those small gifts waiting to be opened and all those blessings waiting to be shared and all that joy waiting to be given away.

I guess that makes this a good Monday.

Theology from a BBC Sitcom

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I’ve discovered a great new (to me) BBC sitcom called Miranda. It’s about a very tall and very awkward English woman named– wait for it— Miranda, played by –again, wait for it– Miranda Hart.

The whole concept of the show is Miranda being socially awkward, clumsy, and hapless in just about every situation. Something none of you can relate to, I’m sure.

Maybe you find your self talking to someone you’re romantically interested in and you find the most bizarre things coming out of your mouth. Your mind is thinking, “What in the world?” but is completely helpless to stop your mouth from talking.

No one? Then how about this one, sports fans?

I’m not a woman. Big shocker.

And I’m not 6’1″. At least everywhere except in my own happy little world.

But I’ve had my share of socially awkward moments, of trying way too hard to be friendly, of being both obsessive and compulsive with certain relationships, and of not being “normal.”

But I’ve come to the place where I wouldn’t trade places with anyone. I’m having way too much fun being me. I’ve finally caught a glimpse of God’s heart for me and His dream for me and how He made me like no one else.

Not everyone will get you. That doesn’t make you inferior or less worthy. Trust me, God will bring people into your life who will more than just get you. They will embrace you and celebrate you and champion you. They will make you feel like a superhero on days when you can’t even button your shirt up right.

Remember that God Himself more than gets you. He made you. He designed you just the way you are to be like no one else and play a part in His ongoing Story that absolutely no one else could possibly fill.

I’ve seen 5 episodes so far and I love it. I also love the way my family and friends love me. I adore how God adores and celebrates and rejoices in and dances over and shouts over me.

I call that a very good reminder for this All Saints Day.

A Little Sunday Perspective

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“Look carefully at your call, brothers and sisters. By human standards, not many of you are deemed to be wise. Not many are considered powerful. Not many of you come from royalty, right? But celebrate this: God selected the world’s foolish to bring shame upon those who think they are wise; likewise, He selected the world’s weak to bring disgrace upon those who think they are strong. God selected the common and the castoff, whatever lacks status, so He could invalidate the claims of those who think those things are significant. So it makes no sense for any person to boast in God’s presence. Instead, credit God with your new situation: you are united with Jesus the Anointed. He is God’s wisdom for us and more. He is our righteousness and holiness and redemption. As the Scripture says: “If someone wants to boast, he should boast in the Lord” (1 Cor. 1:26-31).

Hi. My name is Greg and I used to be a nobody with no hope, no purpose, and no future. I was hopelessly lost and about as far from God as humanly possible.

Then Jesus found me.

Those of you who know my story might be scratching your heads right now and asking, “Weren’t you 7 when you got saved? What bad things could you possibly have done at age 7?”

Well, according to the Bible, anyone without Christ is dead in sins and alienated from God. That was me.

I look back at when Jesus found me. I don’t remember the exact day or feelings I had. I do know Jesus changed me and has been transforming me ever since. I do know I got a direction, a purpose, a new name, and a future.

According to Forbes or GQ or Entertainment Weekly, I am a nobody. But Jesus knows my name. That more than makes up for looking like a fool and an idiot in the eyes of the world for what I believe and how I live my life.

Jesus knows my name.

I can’t get over that.

At least when I’m not caught up in mind games about how this person may or may not like me. Or how I might have offended this or that person.

If I have everything the world has to offer and don’t have Jesus, I really have nothing. I lose. If I have Jesus and absolutely nothing else, I have everything. I win.

I am so forgetful about what really matters. The best things in life aren’t free; they’re not even things. They are the people God brings into your life, whether for one hour, one day, one month, or a lifetime. They are the ones who remind you of who you really are and Whose you really are.

You can replace things. You can never replace people once they’re gone from your life.

So that’s why I can say I’m blessed. I’m rich in the currency of love. I am living my miracle every day, the miracle of seeing blessings everywhere, of finding joy in every place and circumstance, of always finding God right where I am if I only know where and how to look.

It truly doesn’t matter if people remember my name after I’m gone. It won’t matter if no one ever finds me attractive or desirable. My Abba is very fond of me, has chosen me, made me His child, and forever called me His Beloved.

That’s enough for me to last a lifetime. That’s enough for a lifetime of lifetimes. I’m good.

Sometimes You Feel Like Fred Astaire, Sometimes You Don’t

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I went swing dancing at Otter Creek Church again. It’s normally one of the highlights of my week. But this time I just wasn’t feeling it.

I can’t explain it any better. Except maybe to say that even the most social of social butterflies occasionally feels like a caterpillar and needs some alone time. Or in my case, alone with the crazy cat time.

Not every day will be your best day ever. Some days will suck. Some days will be stellar. Some will just be kinda meh, neither horrible nor awesome. Just average.

But the truth is that you can still find joy in every day. You can choose joy in every moment and learn to see blessings and God’s gifts everywhere.

Even when your bank account has one of those distressing minus signs in front of the amount, you can live in joy.

Even when you feel unattractive and undesirable to anyone, you can choose joy.

Even when your dreams seem as far away as that full moon in the sky, you can count blessings instead of sheep.

Even if you don’t have a 13-year old feline therapist who has reasonable rates and very flexible office hours, you can find God’s gifts yo you everywhere if you can see with the right kind of eyes.

Me being able to write these blogs every day is a blessing to me. Me having an iPad to write them on is a blessing. Me waking up and experiencing a perfect Autumn day is a blessing.

I have joy because I see how much I am blessed. Even if I never get married or go on another date, if no girl ever finds me desirable in any way, I can say I’ve been way more blessed than I deserve.

My life is good because God is good and my life is now His. Every day I am living my miracle because Eucharisteo (giving thanks in everything with joy) always precedes the miracle.

My miracle is family who love me, friends who stick with me, cool fall breezes that caress me, pumpkin spice lattes that warm my heart. My miracle is life. Being alive to everything God is and has for me.

I love being me, but I love way more becoming who God is transforming me into– the character and image of Jesus.

I love that!image

Has It Really Been 22 Years?

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / 2 Comments

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In case you’re wondering what 22 years is referring to, that’s how long it’s been since I went on an actual date. With an actual girl. To a place outside my imagination.

At first, that thought was horribly and mind-numbingly depressing, but later I saw it as a blessing. More on that later. Back to the sad me.

I’ve never kissed a girl. And no, I have not nor will I ever kiss a dude. Blech!

I’ve never even held hands with a girl outside of prayer groups. And yes, I was one of those guys who tried to strategically place myself next to the girl I liked right before the prayer started so I could hold her hand. Notice how I said “tried.” Key word there.

But you know what?

I’m still blessed.

I’m still living my miracle.

How?

I have known nights where I didn’t think I could hold on until the sunrise. It was then I felt my Abba’s arms encircling me, holding me tight. There is not a moment when my hand has ever slipped out of the firm grip of my Father’s strong hand.

And yes, I have known the sweet kisses of grace and the embrace of mercy unfolding over and around me. I know what it is to be desired by the Great Lover and ravished by Sweet Words of Love. I know Jesus sings over me nightly because His delight is in me.

So I am as blessed (or more so) than people with far more impressive dating resumes who have found their dream-mate.

I know I was, am, and will always be the dream in God’s heart, the apple of His eye, the one He adores, and His beloved son in whom He is well pleased.

That is so much more than enough for me.

Blog #1,161

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I still write these blogs as reminders to myself of how good God’s been to me. I am so very forgetful and prone to wander, prone to leave the God I love, prone to return to broken cisterns of doubt and fear.

I write about grace so much because I love it so much, and I love it so much because I’ve needed it and found it at just the right times. Left to myself, I can very clingy and needy, very co-dependent, and self-absorbed. I am an approval-addict. An affirmation junkie.

But that grace of God found me. And it did not leave me where it found me. I found that Jesus’ amazing love for me makes me loveable. I discovered that it’s more than okay for me to be myself. It’s the best form of worship I can offer. Just me loving being me. Me refusing to be conformed to what everybody else says I should be, to what the media tells me I need to be to matter.

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I will never stop telling the story of how Eucharisteo forged my miracle, how a lifestyle of joy and gratitude and thanksgiving opened my eyes to manifold blessings and allowed me to open closed fists to receive more of God’s riches.

I am blessed. Even if I never have a six-figure salary. Even if I am ever more the friend and never the love interest, the guy girls want to marry. Even if I never get another blessing or another visible reminder of God’s presence.

Here’s to 1,000 more posts to remind forgetful me of how good my life is and how great God is. Here’s to all of you who keep encouraging me, challenging me, and blessing me in ways I will never be able to repay.

Thank you.

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Grace Notes on a Thursday Night

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As I type these words, I have one extremely sleepy therapist curled up in my lap. I can feel my blood pressure dropping and my stress melting away. It’s almost like I’m living inside a Norman Rockwell painting.

I visited my favorite place on earth again. Downtown Franklin for me is almost like leaving Middle Tennessee and entering Middle Earth. If Middle Earth had amazing frozen yogurt and talking crosswalks.

I saw two of my favorite friends down there and ate at McCreary’s Irish Pub yet again. I felt like a senior adult eating at 4:30 pm, but I didn’t have to wait and I was able to sit outside and people-watch while I ate.

I really think the way to slow down your life is to be intentionally thankful for each moment, grateful for each frame of your fleeting life, and to seek joy where you are. Once you start looking for them, you’ll be amazed at how plentiful the blessings are. How numerous the little joys are that quietly intrude on your day.

Sometimes, you have to put down the iPhone and the iPad and the MacBookPro and live in the moment. Actually be present in your life to the people and places around you.

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I find that my gratitude increases my awareness of grace and my need for it and my capacity to both receive and give it. Everything I have and everything I am that’s worth anything at all is grace, including possessions, people, health, education, and (as hard as it is for me to admit) even the faith to believe in the promises of Jesus.

I say take time to bless those people behind the counter. I went back into Sweet CeCe’s after I finished my divine Southern Sweet Velvet yogurt and told the girl working there that they always did such a great job and made me feel welcome every time I went in there. I’m sure plenty of people probably complained or took out their frustrations on her, so I felt she needed at least one positive and encouraging word that day.

Even if it’s only a smile, you can change a person’s world. And as I’ve said before, to change one person’s world is to change the world.

Gee, I do so love grace.

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