Mo-vember Madness and More

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It’s officially “Mo-vember” and this time I am doing my part (or at least trying to). I am attempting to be all manly and grow a beard. So far, it’s going . . . very slowly.

This Mo-vember, or November as it is called by the non-bearded populace, has been cold. As in “I can see my breath” and “I can’t feel my hands” cold. That made for a shorter than usual downtown Franklin night.

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I started it all off with some fantastic Lobster Mac and Cheese at Grey’s on Main, the swanky new dive on Main Street. It was pricey, but the atmosphere is very hip and trendy. Like me. 😁

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I visited my usual favorite spots: Frothy Monkey, St. Paul’s, and Sweet CeCe’s. I took in all the very early Christmas decorations (does anybody remember that little holiday in November called Thanksgiving? Anyone?)

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I almost forgot to mention one of the best sunsets I’ve seen in a while. I tried to capture it with my iPhone but the real thing was much better than what ended up on my screen. No matter how good camera technology gets, nothing will ever beat seeing sunsets with your own two eyes.

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I took quite a few pictures of the festive decorations and multicolored leaves. I got a great shot of the lit-up Grey’s sign from my table right at the second floor window. It looks like something out of one of those old 40’s film noir classics. Except it’s in color.

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Life is so much better and so much more fun when you focus on what you have and how much you’re blessed. I think Ann Voskamp said something to the effect that gratitude makes what you have enough. While comparison kills joy, gratitude makes it blossom and grow.

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I’ll be back in downtown Franklin next Thursday, so look for more pictures and more life lessons learned and more hijinks and antics shared.

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Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive

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Sometimes, life will hand you lemons. You could make them into lemonade, but without sugar and water to go with it, your lemonade is really going to suck. Or you could freeze those lemons and throw them at all those people who really annoy you. Just a thought.

Maybe it’s a friend who really disappointed you and wasn’t around when you needed them. Maybe it’s a long work week where you seem to have not only two left feet but two left hands as well. Maybe it’s just a general sense of discouragement at where you find yourself compared to so many others.

Here’s the cure. Focus on the good things in your life, or as the old song says. accentuate the positive.

Here are some of my positives which may or may not inspire you to find your own (or you could just steal mine if you like):

1) I woke up this morning and got out of bed and got dressed and went to work. It may not seem like much, but I know a lot of people who didn’t get that privilege today.

2) I greet on Tuesdays at Kairos (a young adult worship experience) with some of the most amazing people, each of whom I am blessed to know and to call friends.

3) The three C’s essential to any early morning– coffee, chocolate, and caffeine. All three are marvelous.

4) I can pull out my Bible (or pull out my iPhone or my iPad and bring up my Bible app) and instantly be encouraged and motivated and strengthen at any time of day or night.

5) Instead of lamenting about how far I am from where I need to be, I can celebrate how far I’ve already come and who I am now versus who I used to be.

6) If I look through eyes of faith, I can always find blessings and joys stashed throughout my week and choose to live out Eucharisteo in every moment.

7) No matter how bad my day may suck, it will never last more than 24 hours. No matter how bad the week seems, it will never have more than 7 days. And that includes Friday and Saturday.

8) My cat Lucy is always happy to see me when I come home and loves to tell me how her day went. Ok, not really. She’s more the silent type, but still her presence is a great comfort to me.

9) I love seeing how my nephews and niece are discovering this great big world and their place in it. They are becoming who God made them to be and I love the previews I get of what that will look like.

10) I have my favorite places that always make me happy: my corner of the couch in the morning, downtown Franklin, serving at Kairos and Room in the Inn, and being around my family and friends.

Joy is a choice that I must make every single day. If I want my life to matter and if I want the people I live with and work with and play with to see a difference in me, the only way is me living out of joy and gratitude and thanksgiving at the never ending goodness and mercy and steadfast love of God.

And there’s those three C’s.

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.

My Salvation Story

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I’m sitting here on this gorgeous Fall Sunday, watching the embarrassing end to an embarrassing footfall game. By that, I mean my beloved Tennessee Titans losing to the previously winless Jacksonville Jaguars. Can we say, “Bye-bye, playoffs?”

In much happier news, I’ve been reflecting on my own salvation experience.

I can tell you what my salvation is not:

It is not based on me walking an aisle or signing a card 30 years ago. If my salvation is fire insurance from hell and nothing more, then it’s not legit. If all I did was pray a prayer and recite some words, then I’m just as lost as I was then.

It’s not knowing facts about Jesus or attending church or being born to Christian parents or being American or Republican or knowing all the Christian buzzwords. None of that.

It’s about when I gave up control of my life to Jesus. It’s when I said YES to everything Jesus has for me.

I was saved (justification) once and for all the day I opened my heart to Jesus and let Him begin His work in me.

I am being saved (sanctification) daily by putting off my old sinful self and putting on Jesus. Or you could say, I’m being saved by Jesus finishing what He started in me like He said He would.

I will be saved (glorification) when Jesus comes back for good and all those annoying sin habits and destructive thought patterns go away forever. When I become what God has already declared me to be– a perfect replica of His Son Jesus.

As Pastor Mike Glenn says, if I don’t live it, I don’t believe it. No matter how eloquent my words are, they mean nothing if I don’t live what I preach.

I’m so glad it’s not up to me being good enough or smart enough or strong enough. I’d never make it. Thankfully, it was and is and always will be about how Jesus found me and rescued me and did for me what I could never to for myself.

That calls for a celebration, don’t you think?

Random Bits of Advice

It's only moderately tacky but it was also only $5.

It’s only moderately tacky but it was also only $5.

I had a very interesting and unusual day– in a good way. No one died or got laid off or broke any part of their body. I did get off work a bit early and spent some time thrift shopping.

I found some stores on Charlotte Ave near 49th Ave in Nashville. I went in search of THE ultimate tacky Christmas sweater (with moderately successful results) and came away with a few unexpected treasures. Thrift shopping is like that. Life is like that.

I’ve come away with a few tidbits of wisdom I’d like to share:

1) Gravitate toward the people who love you for who you are, who are always happy to see you, who actually want you around, who live out the Gospel in actions and attitudes that reflect the heart of Jesus.

2) Never pass up any opportunities to visit old bookstores. There’s just something magical about being around lots of old books with their musty smells and rich histories that does my heart good. I love my iPad, but nothing beats the feel and smell of a good old book in your hands.

3) When it comes to getting things done versus spending time with people, remember how fragile life is. Chances are very likely most of your to-do list can wait, but those people may not be around tomorrow.

4) Give yourself a break. Objects in your mirror, i. e. you, are not nearly as ugly or goofy or clumsy or hopeless as they appear. There has never and will never be anyone quite like you ever again. That alone makes you special. Unique. Beautiful. Priceless.

There are probably more, but I’m too tired to think of any of them at the moment, so I’ll save them for a later post.

Good night to all my favorite people. That’s means you. Thank you for making my life blessed and amazing and a miracle every single day.

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.

Character (And Not the Cartoon Kind)

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I’m sure you’ve heard the word character defined as “what you do in the dark” or “how you behave when you think no one is watching.”

I agree with that. But my question in response is: so what does that look like in real life?

I think it means keeping your word. Regardless.

It means following through on a commitment, even if it becomes inconvenient.

It means when I say, “I’ll pray for you,” actually praying. I can say that I’m about 50/50 on that. Sometimes, I pray and sometimes I intend to but life and forgetfulness get in the way. I need to work on that.

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It means when you say you’re a friend, actually being a friend and not just being friendly. To me, being friendly means “whenever I gave spare time or whenever I feel like it.” Being a friend means sacrificing by taking time out do other important things to make time for a person.

Character means when I say I’ll be somewhere, actually showing up.

Character means more than good intentions and good feelings. It means I am the same person to all people in all situations. Not like the old joke, “I’m frank and earnest with all my women. In Memphis, I’m Frank and in Nashville, I’m Earnest.”

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When life squeezes me, what comes out? Is it anger? Is it annoyance? Is it impatience?

The reality is that what I’m filled with is what comes out. If I spend time with Jesus and get filled up with Him, He’s what comes out.

People are watching me whether I know it or not. People will decide whether or not Jesus is worth following by examining how much I talk about Him and how much I look and act like Him.

And sometimes, it’s fun to be a character. But that’s another topic for another day.

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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.

Is God Fluffy? Questions I’ve Never Thought About Until Now

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I sat in on a very interesting conversation with some friends and a man who’s name I have unfortunately forgotten. It was surreal and made my brain hurt a bit.

The guy said that God called him on a quest. Immediately, I thought something along the lines of “They should make pills for this.” The cheese had obviously slid off of this guy’s cracker.

He said that sometimes He calls God “Master Fluffy.” That one had me scratching me head. Master Fluffy? Really?

I’m just being honest. Keeping it real, as the kids nowadays put it.

Then again, I remembered some things.

Aren’t I taking meds, too? How would I think and behave if I’d been through west this guy has been through (or even half). My cheese might be completely AWOL from my cracker.

And doesn’t God speak of protecting us underneath His wings? Doesn’t He know when the lowliest sparrow falls from the sky? Doesn’t He delight in all His children, including the ones with broken minds and broken hearts?

Most of all, didn’t God put on human skin and come to pitch His tent among us? To laugh and weep with us? To experience every bit of what we face, except without sin?

I can’t help feeling sometimes that the most “normal” of us don’t get God half as much as the ones who don’t always act and speak normally. The ones who need pills to make their minds work right. The ones who felt ugly and stupid and fat and unloveable until they understood how large a space God has reserved in His heart just for them?

To get into God’s Kingdom, you have to be like a little child. I know it means you have to come acknowledging that you are helpless without God.

I like to think it also means you need to see the world through the eyes of a child, with eyes that cling to dreams, look for fairies and pixie dust, find miracles around every corner, and never give up hoping that joy will win in the end.

Celebrate not that you are normal, but that you are unique. Celebrate that there is and will never again be anything in the world quite like you. Find joy in being “heaven’s poetry etched in lives” (Ephesians 2:10).

Then you will start out discovering Eucharisteo, finding joy and thanksgiving and grace in everything, and living your miracle.

Take it from one unique and blessed Ragamuffin.