Those Crazy Spider Monkeys!

monkey

I heard something very interesting about monkeys and coconuts. And no, there’s not a Monty Python joke coming. Or a reference to any Animal Planet show currently airing.

I heard that a way to trap a spider monkey is to drill a hole in a coconut just big enough for its hand to fit in and put food in there. The little monkeys will reach in and grab the food, but with their hands in a fist clutching their prize, they can’t pull it out again.

The end result is either death or capture.

My first reaction is: aren’t those just greedy little monkeys?

My second is: what is so great about what they’re holding onto that they can’t let go?

Then I wonder how many times I’ve been trapped like that by holding onto something I don’t need to. Like a wound from my past. Or maybe a failure I can’t forgive myself for. Or maybe a selfish desire of mine.

Maybe you’re holding onto your idea of how your life should play out. Maybe it’s a relationship that’s toxic and hazardous to your health and your heart. Maybe it’s unforgiveness that keeps you up nights. It could be anything that takes the place of Jesus in your heart. Even good things.

Whatever it is, you can’t move forward until you let it go. You can’t be free unless you release your grasp of whatever it is that you’re white-knuckling.

I’m reminded of a story of a little girl whose father gave her some imitation pearls. She loved those pearls and wore them everywhere. She even slept in them. But one day her dad asked the unthinkable.

“Give me your pearls,” he said.

“No, Daddy. You can have anything else. My dollies, my stuffed animals, but not my pearls.”

So he let it go that night. But he asked again the next night. And the night after that.

Finally, with tears in her eyes, she said, “Yes, Daddy. You can have my pearls.”

With one hand he took the imitation pearls, and with the other he gave her a box containing very real and very expensive pearls. He had been waiting for her to let go of the imitation so she could have the real thing.

What are you holding onto that keeps you from receiving what God has for you? It may be a good thing, but if it keeps you from God’s best, let it go. If it keeps you from full devotion and obedience to Jesus, let it go.

Trust me, what you give up won’t even compare to what you get in compare. Or as a guy named Jim Elliot once said, “He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

God’s Dreams

I think this car best fits my personality (but unfortunately not my checkbook).

I think this car best fits my personality (but unfortunately not my checkbook).

I have a little dream that probably has no basis in reality. It pops up every time I wind up in downtown Franklin. I see myself driving a little red Mini-Cooper to my little stone house with the red door and going inside to work on my next novel.

Maybe there’s a little basis of reality there. I don’t know. It sounds like good life to me.

But I also know that my dreams for myself are nothing compared to God’s dreams for me. His dreams for me are much more vast, much grander in scope, more breathtaking and awe-inspiring than mine could ever be. I’d go so far as so say that if I saw the whole of what God has for me, my little brain would probably explode and little pieces of my mind would end up all over Williamson County. It would not be pretty.

Up to now, I’ve seen only the tiniest glimpses of those dreams and been amazed. God’s dreams for me are the motivation I need to not quit and to not give up on myself or on anyone else in my life.

What are God’s dreams for you? Where do you see God leading you in the days and months and years ahead?

Imagine the grandest dreams you’ve ever had for yourself and multiply those by a thousand. Or better yet, by ten thousand. Then you’ve only begun to touch the dreams God has for you. You’ve only touched the hem of the tapestry of your life God is weaving for you at this very moment.

All I know to do is to trust God’s dreams for me and be faithful in the small details. God has never failed one-up my expectations every single time and I know the next time will definitely not be an exception.

“No one’s ever seen or heard anything like this,
Never so much as imagined anything quite like it—
What God has arranged for those who love him” (1 Corinthians 2:9).

A Kairos Challenge

Tonight, Mike Glenn spoke about the disciples on the road to Emmaus and how they failed to recognize Jesus because so often the last place we look for Jesus is right where we are. Jesus showed the highest compliment to his disciples when he called them friends and proved it when he laid down his life for these friends.

We are called to do the same. We are called to walk alongside people and be their friend, not for any gain or for any return, but simply for the sake of friendship. Even if the other person shows no inclination toward your viewpoint and wants nothing to do with your God, you are still called to be a friend.

The example Jesus showed us is that a friend is a friend, regardless. I can never give up on a friend because Jesus never gave up on me even though he had plenty of opportunities and reasons to do so.

We’re also called to be neighbors. Not in the sense of location, but in the sense of hospitality. The Good Samaritan parable shows us that the definition of a neighbor is someone who has a need that we have the power to meet, regardless of whether that person looks like us, acts like us, or believes us. Regardless of whether that person is likable or not.

I can’t remember where I heard it before and I’m sure I’ve shared it before, but I love the idea that Jesus is the ultimate neighbor. I was the one lying beaten and bloody on the side of the road, half dead. Jesus was the only one to stop and help me. He was the only one who paid for my care.

So, the challenge tonight is to be a friend and a neighbor. Not necessarily to shove my faith down anyone’s throat or prove the existence of God and the Bible. Just to love people where they are for who they are just like someone once loved me.

That’s all.

April Fool’s Day

I have to admit. I missed out on the fun. I was neither the prankster nor the prank-ee, although Monday itself is enough of a bad prank for anyone.

I went on my first run since December and did better than expected. I thought surely I’d be huffing and puffing and passing out after a few blocks, but I ran 2 miles in 21 minutes, which may not be any new world record for speed but was good enough for me.

I wore my brand-new, never-worn, red New Balance running shoes. And man, they are red. I suppose if I clicked my heels together I might wind up in Kansas. They are that red.

It seems like there’s always a bit of a letdown after any major holiday. For me, I always dreaded the day after Christmas, because all that hype and excitement was over and there were 364 more days till the next one. I could always console myself after Thanksgiving with leftovers, so that wasn’t so bad.

But for Easter, I somehow seem to forget so easily what I just celebrated. That Jesus is alive, that not even death and hell could hold him, that there is new life and new hope now that wasn’t there before.

I guess I’ll have to look into this Pentecost Sunday business and find out what it’s all about. It wasn’t on my Baptist radar growing up, so I don’t know too much about it. I just know that one day isn’t enough to celebrate the resurrection anymore than one day is sufficient to celebrate Jesus’ miraculous birth.

I just looked up Pentecost on Wikipedia and found out that the main sign of Pentecost in the Western Churches is the color red, symbolizing joy and the fire of the Holy Spirit. So maybe I’ll wear my red shoes.

Next year, I hope I won’t be fooled into letting the meaning of Easter slip away so easily after only one day. And maybe I can come up with a good prank.

An Easter Reboot

resurrection

“The truth, even though I cannot feel it right now, is that I am the chosen child of God, precious in God’s eyes, called the Beloved from all eternity and held safe in an everlasting embrace… We must dare to opt consciously for our chosenness and not allow our emotions, feelings, or passions to seduce us into self-rejection” (Henri Nouwen).

The stone was rolled away from the door, not to permit Christ to come out, but to enable the disciples to go in” (Peter Marshall).

Sometimes, it takes Easter to get my mind refocused. Like so many of you, I can get off track so very easily and forget who I am and what I’m here for. I need to be reminded that I am indeed the beloved, the chosen child of God. My purpose is to live that out as best I can, to become what God has already declared me to be.

I take Easter for granted because I already know how the story ends. Or at least I think I do.

In fact, Easter isn’t an end, but a beginning. C. S. Lewis in his book, The Last Battle, said that all of history was merely a title page and a preface. Eternity is the real beginning of the book, where each chapter is better than the last and the story is truly neverending.

Easter reminds me that my forgiveness might have been free for me, but not free. it might have not cost me anything, but it was not without cost. I don’t need to forget that my forgiveness cost God the very highest price and is the most extravagant gift ever given in history. I don’t need to take that lightly or for granted.

Easter also reminds me that failure isn’t final, that goodbyes aren’t forever, and that truth and faith and love and hope all survive the grave and come out stronger on the other side. I guess that’s why I love it so much.

 


 

Another Easter Toast (But This One’s All Mine)

toast

I raise my glass and drink to all the losers, drop-outs, failures, rejects, and nobodies. I drink to all the castaways, the worthless, the reprobates, the down-and-outers, and anybody who just can’t seem to get their act together. To all the crooks and whores and drunks and junkies and thieves.

Why?

You are the ones Jesus died for. He himself said he came not for those who were well, those who were righteous, but for you, the sick, the sinner, the wretched, blind, and poor. Those without a hope left in the world.

Blessed are you for you have found hope.

Blessed are you for you have been made new. The past no longer counts against you and the future is yours.

Blessed are you for God so loved you that he gave his only Son that you should not perish but have full, abundant, and rich eternal life, starting now.

Blessed are you when you’ve reached the end of your rope, as one translation puts it, because there is less of you and more of God and his rule.

Blessed are you when you cry out to God and beg for pardon for all your mistakes and failures and sins and find that forgiveness and freedom is sweeter and grander and longer and wider than you ever imagined they could be.

I toast you because you really appreciate what this day is all about. You know that because of this day you are alive and free from any condemnation. Because of Easter Sunday, you no longer have to let your past define you or your future.

You have an Advocate, a Redeemer, a Savior, a Friend and a Father. You have a new name, a new start, a new tomorrow, and a new destiny.

I think that merits a toast, don’t you?

triple wine toast

The Seven Stations of the Cross

stations

 

Tonight, I went to a Prayer Experience at Brentwood Baptist Church. It was about praying through the seven stations of the cross. I know that the Roman Catholic Church has 14, but we’re Baptists, so seven for us is a good start.

I didn’t spend too much time at each station, but just enough to grasp a little more of what the Cross meant for me.

I’ve always known about Jesus dying on the cross to save me, but I guess I never really let myself go there in a really deep and meaningful way. If you do, you find shame and humiliation. You find excruciating pain and suffering. You find the most agony one man has ever endured in the history of mankind.

I became aware that it was my humiliation and shame that Jesus bore. It was my sin that he carried on that cross and it was my death that he died. I should have been up there, nailed to that piece of wood.

I realized for the first time that Jesus doesn’t want my sympathy for what happened to him there. He doesn’t want me to feel sorry for him up there. He wants me. All of me. My heart, my mind, my will, my life, all of it.

Just as Simon of Cyrene picked up Jesus’ cross and carried it for him, I’m called to pick up a cross and carry it. That’s what being a disciple means.

Jesus would have done all of it for me, even if I were the only one in the world who needed it. That thought still astounds me. He loves me that much.

So don’t skim over this part of the story. Allow yourself to go there emotionally and mentally and spiritually. Stand in front of the cross and witness the suffering Savior and grieve with his followers. Watch as he is laid in the tomb. Remember that all of this is for you.

Then you can celebrate Easter Sunday.

Good Friday

goodfriday

“[B]ut we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel” (Luke 24:21).

It’s easy to skip past this part on the way to the Easter Sunday celebrations, but this year I feel the need to slow down and try to appreciate what the disciples must have been going through at this point.

Their leader, Jesus, was dead and in the tomb. Their hopes and dreams had been dashed to pieces and they had nothing left. The one they loved had left them.

I know what it’s like to have to say goodbye to a loved one. It’s not easy. To realize you can never go back and unsay harsh words or say words of love. To know that this is final.

All the disciples had at the moment was pieces of a shattered faith and each other. All they could do was sit silently in the same room, lost for words that could possibly bring comfort or understanding. It had all happened so fast. One moment, Jesus was with them, laughing and encouraging them to be strong, the next he was gone.

I wonder if any of the disciples got trapped in the cycle of “if only.” If only we hadn’t gone to Jerusalem. If only we had recognized Judas’ true colors before. If only we could have gotten away from the garden sooner. If only.

They still had so many questions to ask Jesus. There was still so much they didn’t understand, especially about when he said he could raise up the temple again in three days.

Who else would show them the Father in such a real and tangible way? Who else would open up the Scriptures in such a fresh and vibrant way? Who else would teach by such authority?

They had no answers, only questions.

It’s Friday, but Sunday’s comin’.

Storms

This is like one of those albums you buy where there’s a disclaimer that reads something like “all songs previously released. In other words, I’m not saying anything new.

I heard recently that there are three kinds of people: those in a storm, those coming out of a storm, and those fixin’ to get ready (as we say in the South) to head into a storm.

No one is exempt. Storms come to the just and the unjust, to the houses built on solid foundations as well as those built on sand.
What matters in a storm is being ready, because when the time comes, you won’t have time to get ready. You’ll have to be ready.

What does being ready look like?
I think it means you have Jesus in your boat.

I’m pretty sure when my storm comes I’ll be freaking out like the disciples did and telling Jesus to wake up so we can die together.

But Jesus has a way of speaking peace over the storms. And even when he doesn’t calm the storm, he calms his child in the storm.

I’d like to take credit for all that, but it’s not original to me. I’ve heard or read it all before. But these blogs are often reminders for me as much as they are for you.

So I can take credit for about two percent of this blog. It’s a good thing I’m not having to use footnotes.

Just remember he who is in you is greater than whatever’s out there, including storms.

Finding the Silver Lining

Bradley-Cooper-and-Jennifer-Lawrence-in-Silver-Linings-Playbook

After seeing Silver Linings Playbook, I’m 4 down and 5 to go in my quest to see all the best picture nominees for 2013. Hopefully, I can accomplish this quest in 2013. So far, it’s looking good.

But that movie resonated with me at a deep level. It’s about mental illness and broken people trying to fit the pieces back together again. The reason I could relate to it so very well is because I recognize the brokenness inside of me. In fact, I believe that everybody is fundamentally broken at some level. Some are just better at hiding the cracks and appearing normal. But face it, we’re messed up in one way or another.

So many times, we approach relationships with the mentality of “fix me” and “save me.” Maybe instead, we should have the attitude of “how can I make you better?” or “how can I bring out the best in you?’

Too many romantic relationships fail because one person tries to make another their world. No one person can be another’s world. It’s simply too much pressure and expectation. But that person can make the other’s world better. That person can make the other’s world a little brighter.

I still love how God has a heart for broken people like you and me. I love how gently he can bring together all the scattered pieces and put them back together to where you can’t see the cracks anymore. I don’t know how that all works, but I know that it does.

There’s no one better at loving broken people than someone who has embraced their brokenness and the healing that comes with it. There’s no one better at helping to pick up someone else’s broken pieces than someone who’s had their broken pieces fitted back together.

My goal shouldn’t be for you to complete me or fix me, but to see you become a whole person in Jesus, to see the image of God restored in you. So I look for the best in you and you look for the best in me and we help each other see not who we are but what we could be and– by God’s grace– will be one day.