Things I Love 8: Greg’s Sanity Has Left the Building

island hammock

FYI: these blogs will continue until I get to 1,000 things I love. It’s from the book, One Thousand Gifts, so I’m trying to list out– wait for it– 1,000 little things that I believe are God’s gifts to me and daily reminders that stir me to gratitude and thanksgiving as a lifestyle. Plus, I don’t have to worry about what I will be blogging on until at least July of 2014. Just kidding. Sort of.

Ok. Here goes the list, starting at #168. Drum roll, please.

168) Looking through old photo albums and reliving those old memories and remembering people who’ve been gone from my life for a while (and thinking they’re looking down from heaven and smiling at those photos, too).

169) My extremely loud Hawaiian shirt, which one random teenager called “sick.” I guess that’s a compliment. I’m not really sure.

170) Everything related to either Narnia and Wardrobes or Middle Earth and Hobbits.

171) Surprise birthday parties (hint, hint, subtle subliminal suggestion. . . cough).

172) Celebrating Easter and remembering that the Resurrection changed EVERYTHING. Including me.

173) That Jesus would have chosen the nails and the cross and the agony if only for me alone.

174) By Jesus loving me unconditionally and prodigally, he made me loveable.

175) Silent movies.

176) Box hockey (and the fact that I know what box hockey is).

177) All my high school reunions where I see old friends and get to catch up after 10 (or 20) years apart.

178) That I get to be a small part of Kairos, a worship gathering for young adults, every week and I see God at work there every single week.

179) Being content in my relationships and not obsessively wondering where they might or might not be headed,

180) Knowing that if the absolute worst case scenario should happen, I would still be loved by Jesus and God would still work even that out for my good and his glory.

181) How randomly my brain works these days.

182) The vast array of autumn colors from the leaves changing and falling.

183) Doing small random acts of kindness for people when they least expect it.

184) Any positive news stories (because they are sadly the exception and not the rule).

185) That I’m down to 715 more things to be thankful for.

186) Now it’s only 714.

187) That I’m not what everyone else thinks I am or even what I think of myself, but only what Jesus says I am– Chosen, Redeemed, Beloved, Child of God, Forgiven, Free, etc.

188) That Jesus won’t ever stop reminding me of my true identity and sending friends who will help me remember the song in my heart when I forget the words.

189) Lightning bugs at night in an open field.

190) Cheese grits made just right.

191) That I probably have at least 32 more of these blogs a-comin’ your way. But not in a row.

Things I Love 5: The Blog Series That Just Won’t Die

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I know I’m approaching slasher film status with my fifth blog in this series. Thankfully, this blog is 100% Jason- and Freddy Krueger-free. I’m keeping it strictly PG for the kids.

So let the list of things I love continue from where I left off at #102.

102) Seeing someone who really hurt me, albeit unintentionally, and being able to be friendly and cordial with her and realize that means that I am truly growing in grace.

103) The freedom that comes when you can finally admit that you were hurt and your world didn’t end.

104) Friends who you can vent to who will not just tell you what you want to hear, but will give you much-needed wisdom.

105) Good soul food by people who know how to cook it up right.

106) The dream of someone out there who will fall in love with me for me.

107) Those moments of unexpected and unexplainable joy.

108) The fact that I have enough things I love to make up five blogs’ worth of material (and counting).

109) That my parents are still married (which I now know is a rare blessing these days).

110) That I can step on my cat’s tail and/or on her foot and five minutes later she will still be in my lap, contentedly snoozing away.

111) The smell of apples (and the taste of a fresh Fuji apple).

112) Chocolate Cheerios (though I’m a bit peeved they weren’t around when I was growing up).

113) The new-found ability to start up a conversation with anyone at any time and realizing that people actually want to talk with me.

114) The amazing display of cheeses at The Fresh Market.

115) The book that inspired all these blogs– One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. One of my favorite books I’ve ever read.

116) Another day to be alive and blessed.

117) French Toast from The Pancake Pantry (but only the one in Gatlinburg).

118) Being in Gatlinburg and having a million happy childhood memories stirred up all over again.

119) Any movie where Fred Astaire dances with Ginger Rogers.

120) Being able to roll over and sleep for another hour.

121) The freedom of not having to try to be friends with everyone.

122) The fact that there will be at least one more of these blogs (and likely more after that).

Things I Love 4: The Slow and The Lackadaisical

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In case you didn’t get the title, it’s the opposite of those never-ending series of movies called The Fast and the Furious. I think we’re probably looking at at least 18 more of those, so gird your loins.

But I digress. Back to the list of things I love, starting at #81.

81) Spontaneously starting up conversations with strangers with small dogs at Starbucks. The best part is that we’re not strangers anymore, but friends.

82) Finding out I wasn’t the only one who struggled with that or felt that way.

83) Finally getting around to seeing a movie I missed years ago and finding out it was worth waiting to see.

84) Listening to Morgan Freeman’s voice (if he ever narrated a book on CD, I’d buy it, even if it was Intro to Trigonometry.

85) Finding out that U2 finally has a NEW album coming out later this year.

86) The elegance and beauty of Grace Kelly.

87) That the end of the Greatest Story Ever Told has already written and it’s has the best ending ever.

88) Or if you prefer, all of history is like the title page and table of contents, and after it ends is the real beginning of the Real Story in which every next chapter is better than the last and where you don’t want to ever put the book down.

89) The peace that comes with acceptance that a friendship is over and that it has served its purpose and best of all, being thankful for the time we had.

90) Every time I see the transformative power of the risen Christ in my life.

91) Believing in love again and especially believing that there really maybe someone out there who will want and desire me.

92) Being in a place at night where you can see the stars.

93) The smell of chlorine. I know it’s weird, but it takes me back to going to the Y as a kid.

94) The smell of bus exhaust. Again, it’s strange, but this time it takes me back to the days of marching band trips.

95) Watching fireflies and listening to a symphony of crickets on a slow country night.

96) Seeing a mother who isn’t preoccupied or busy or glued to her smart phone and is loving on her child and living in the moment.

97) Those little candies called Smarties.

98) That I really can taste the rainbow when I eat a Skittles.

99) Listening to my cat snore.

100) The good feeling I get after eating a really good Southern home-cooked meal.

101) That there will be more of these blogs because there are so many more little things that I love.

My First Letter to My Future Wife in a While

“You are the butter to my bread, you are the breath to my life” (from the movie Julie & Julia).

I blogged a few days ago about a magical movie moment at Best Buy. I’m beginning to realize that that girl is probably not you. In fact, I sincerely doubt I’ll ever see her again.

But one thing she did that I’m forever grateful for is to help me believe in myself again. Specifically, she helped me to believe that I could be desirable and attractive to the opposite sex. Not in a logical in-my-head kind of way, but in a very real, in-real-life kind of way.

I had even begun to doubt you would ever come my way, but now I believe in that again. I believe that even if it takes a miracle for us to meet, God has plenty of experience and practice and miracles and it’s really true that what seems impossible to us isn’t even remotely difficult for him,

There are still some fuzzy parts. I don’t know who you are or what you look like. I don’t know when or how we’ll meet. I don’t know where I’ll be. But I do know that wherever you are will be my home.

I know that there will be times when we won’t be “in love,” but we will still love each other, because love isn’t a feeling as much as it is a choice, an action, an active verb. Love even means loving when you don’t feel like it. Going through the motions of love sometimes until the feelings of love return.

I do hope there are moonlit walks on the beach and candlelit dinners. I hope for fireworks and also for quiet moments. I can’t wait to feel you lying next to me, sleeping while I’m still not able to fall asleep over the wonder that you belong to me and I belong to you and that we both belong to Jesus.

Some days, you are harder to see than others, but my hope isn’t in you. It’s in God. Period. I hope you will love me, but I hope you will love Jesus more. I hope to love you, but not half as much as I hope to love Jesus. And I know neither of our loves will even begin to touch the love of the Father for each of us.

That’s what I’m hoping for.

 

Fear and Faith

I’m not alone when I say that I have known fear and anxiety. Lately, I’ve heard several of my friends talk about their own fears and worries. I’m pretty sure that everybody deals with fear on some level.

But the question of the day is this: will you let fear run your life or will you step out in faith? Will you put your foot out into the air, not knowing if there will be ground underneath for it to land on? I know your mind just went to that scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Mine did. That’s exactly what the step of faith looks like. It means either God comes through or you will crash and burn.

I think for a lot of people, their fear of failure is stronger than their desire for success. They want to avoid failing more than they want to succeed, and the result is that they will fail from not trying. Failing is not failure, but not trying is.

I truly believe that God reveals himself as we obey. As we can take those steps of faith, God knows we are ready to handle a much greater revelation of himself. We know much more of God’s ability to come though in the clutch when we go out on a limb for him.

So my advice is to do what you’re afraid of. Ask her out. Apply for that job. Make that call to your estranged friend. Share your faith with a co-worker. Quit that dead-end job and pursue your dream.

God will honor you. He hasn’t failed you yet and he’s not about to. Remember, as I heard recently, that if God is calling you out, he has already given you the victory there. You only have to step out and claim it.

Perfect, complete, mature love, i.e. the love of God, casts out fear completely.

Ghosts

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I was feeling burdened about some issues, so I stepped inside one of my favorite places on earth, St. Paul’s Espiscopal Church, a very old church building located in the heart of downtown Franklin. Being in that place always brings me peace and I can be still and silent and just be.

I pulled out one of the kneelers and got on my knees and unburdened myself before God. I let it all go. I don’t know if it will work out like I want it to or not, but I do know that I felt a peace about it for the first time in a while. Then I simply listened.

It may have been the creaky floorboards settling, but to my romanticized imagination, it sounded like echos of past worshippers. Ghosts of people who came to this place and found their own peace.

I felt that I was not alone. Not because of ghosts, but because I knew that God was there with me.

I know now that I have to let my situation go. I can’t fix it. As much as I try to “help” God out, I would only make things worse. So I have to back off and let God do what only God can do. It’s completely in his hands now.

I don’t know how long I knelt there, listening to the noises around me. I left my phone in my pocket the whole time.

I love the fact that God didn’t wait until I got my act together to come to me. He found me, broken as I was, and is loving me to wholeness. Even though I sometimes still live out of fear and doubt, he never once has abandoned me. In those times I felt most alone, he was closest of all.

That’s what I love about God. Every other religion is about how to get to God, but Christianity (not the religion, but the relationship with Jesus Christ) is about how God came to us and found us before we even thought about looking for him.

I’m so glad he found me.

 

Me Too

I think that sometimes the most powerful words you can ever say or hear from a friend are, “Me too.”

It means that you’re not alone in your struggle. In your fear. In your doubt.

It means that at least one person knows what you’re going through and you’re not the freakish weirdo out of the whole human race who has your particular issue.

It means that two are more of you are gathered together and that’s where God really shows up.

When I heard a speaker say that he fears when people find out what he’s really like, they will abandon him, I said in my heart, “Me too.” He had named my fear almost verbatim the way I would have named it.

That was comforting. To know that a well-known speaker has the same fear I do was good to know, but that another human being shares that phobia meant the world to me.

So remember you’re not alone in your struggle. You are not a freak of nature. Others are walking the same road that you are, even though you may feel like the only one.

There’s a website called nomorevoices.com where you can name what the voices are telling you. The only response will be, “Me too.”

So remember when you’re in the depth of your struggles that you are not alone. Others are in the same place you are.

And most of all, God knows.

 

It’s Time To Play “Name That Fear”

I have an image in my mind of that old TV game show where the contestants were constantly yelling, “Big bucks! Big bucks! No whammies!”

It’s time for me to name one of my fears, that big ol’ ugly whammy that has always gotten to me– the fear of abandonment.

I’m putting this out there so that 1) it will lose its power over me and 2) so that you can be brave enough to name your own fear and diminish its power over you. So here goes.

My fear is the fear of abandonment. I’m afraid that you will get to know me and then decide that I’m not worth the effort, that I’m really too messed up for you to deal with, and you will go away.

I go through long stretches where I am good and that fear isn’t a problem. But then someone won’t respond to a text or will stop commenting on and liking my facebook posts and that old fear creeps up. That voice says, “See? They’ve given up on you” or “They’re gradually pulling away from you and pretty soon won’t have anything to do with you.”

Or maybe I’m at a social event and a friend isn’t as friendly as usual and I wonder if I’ve done or said something to offend them. I fantasize in my mind how they’re really angry with me and are just waiting for the right moment to tell me where I can go and what I can do with myself (putting it nicely). I’ve actually played out those scenarios to the point where I’ve thought a friendship was over when it wasn’t even close to being over.

Sometimes you can recognize a lie and believe it anyway because it’s familiar. It’s all you’ve known and lived with your whole life. But when you name it and where it came from, it loses its power over you.

So, I name that fear of abandonment from the pit of hell and I claim the blood of Jesus over it right now. I receive my status as the beloved of God, chosen by Jesus.

Now if I could just hit some of those big bucks. . .

All Those Voices and The Truth

Maybe you’re like me. Sometimes maybe you get so many voices in your head, it’s hard to tell which ones are genuine and which ones are not. It’s hard to discern your own thoughts from the legion running through your mind.

I firmly believe that one of the enemy’s tricks is to plant thoughts in your mind and make you believe that those are your thoughts. He can take a little bit of the truth, just enough to make it plausible, and mix it with a lie. Kinda like a fisherman baits a hook with enough of a tempting lure to make the fish bite.

I’ve been overwhelmed at times and not known what to believe or which voices to trust. But I’ve come to realize that in those times it’s better to not trust what I think or what I feel, but what I know. That is, what God has revealed to me about himself time and time again.

I know he’s good. I know he’s strong. I know he’s for me. I know he won’t give up on me.

Many times, I’ve fallen back on those truths when the lies seem so very easy to believe. When the old fears of abandonment seem to be coming true before my very eyes and I feel more alone than ever, I have to remember that God is with me.

You never know what you believe until it’s a matter of life or death, when your survival and your sanity depend on it. You never know how strong and good God is until you’re lost and he’s the only one who can find you, when you’re sinking in despair and he’s the only one who can rescue you.

Devils and lies die in the light. They can’t survive when confronted with the very truth of God’s word. So name the lies for what they are. Name where they came from. And declare out loud that Jesus has already defeated that enemy and those lies once and for all.

Most of all, let’s hold each other up in prayer and be strong for those when they can’t be strong for themselves, and believe for those when their faith is too weak. It just takes two or three.

Remember that the Truth as personified in Jesus isn’t just another voice in your head. It’s the Voice that bids all other voices be still the way it bidded the waves to be still. It’s the Voice that will always have the last word.

 

“But We Had Hoped . . . “

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“And we had our hopes up that he was the One, the One about to deliver Israel” (Luke 24:21).

I know you know what it’s like to have your hopes dashed yet again.

Maybe you thought a certain person was the one, but it turned out that he wasn’t interested in you like that or she only wanted to be friends.

Maybe you invested in a friendship and found out that you weren’t nearly as high on the other person’s list of priorities. Or maybe that other person saw some of your flaws and decided you just weren’t worth the effort anymore.

Maybe you felt confident after a really good job interview only to discover the company went with someone else they felt was a “better fit.”

Maybe you gave your time and energy and talent to a company for so many years only to find yourself on the receiving end of a pink slip with the words that went something like “we had to make some cutbacks somewhere.”

Maybe you’re at the place where it’s easier not to hope anymore. Where it’s easier not to open up to anyone or trust anyone beyond a surface level anymore. Where it’s easier and safer to give up on your dreams than risk the possibility of more disappointment and heartache.

Just like those two disciples, maybe you and I have gotten so wrapped up in ourselves that we miss who it is that’s walking alongside of us. We’ve missed his comforting words. Don’t you see him yet?

It’s Jesus.

I love what I heard a pastor say recently that went something like this: “Aren’t you glad that at the greatest hour of need that God didn’t send a text or a skype invite? He sent Jesus.”

Jesus has come to hear your story and then connect it with his. Not that he’ll be surprised by anything you tell him. He already knows what you’ve been through, even the ugly parts you would never tell another living soul. And he loves you.

He’ll stick around when friends bail, when spouses leave, when children don’t want to come around anymore. He’ll love you even when you can’t find the strength to love yourself.

Tonight, I’m more thankful for Jesus than ever. I know that when I’m feeling overwhelmed by negative thinking and feelings of abandonment, he’s speaking peace into my chaos. He’s whispering truth over the lies I’m believing.

And he won’t ever leave me.