I Know: Living in Captivity

“I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for” (Jeremiah 29:11)

Lots of people quote the above as their favorite verse. Lots of people go even further and call it their life verse, me being one of them. It’s nice to know that God’s got your future in His hands.

But when you look at the context, this is written to people in captivity who are longing for home. The funny part is that they are longing for a home they’ve never seen, but only heard stories about.

Many of us feel like captives. Maybe you feel trapped in a job you don’t like, but you’re afraid to step out in a bad economy and look for new work, so you stay and stress and count the minutes to the end of every day.

Maybe you feel like your family doesn’t know or appreciate you. Maybe you feel like your spouse is always tearing you down and never offering anything positive. Maybe you’ve being going to a church for a while and you still feel like a stranger and an outsider.

Maybe you feel like your friends have all moved on and left you behind in your pain. Maybe you had your romantic hopes dashed yet again and feel even less desirable than ever.

Read the first part of the verse. God knows. He’s aware of your distress. He sees the tears you cry in the dark when you’re alone and feels the pain that hides behind the facade of a smile.

He has a plan for you. He has a dream for you that is bigger than you but that you get to be a part of. He has a future for you that is as wide-open and free as His amazing grace.

I love how one author said that when you are in a dark place, listen very carefully because God has a special and very precious word for you that you won’t be able to receive any other way.

Jesus knows what it feels like to be alone and forsaken. That’s why He said He would never to either to you. Ever.

Keep trusting and keep believing, even when you don’t feel like it. Keep clinging to Jesus. If all you can pray is “Help me,” keep praying that over and over until it becomes your mantra.

I have never known a storm that didn’t leave a rainbow or a night that didn’t turn into day. Your time is coming and God’s got good things coming your way. Hold on.

Trusting

I’ve always heard it this way: Don’t trust people, but trust the Jesus in people.

I think there’s some truth to that.

People in and of themselves have good intentions, but short attention spans. They are forgetful, busy, distracted, and human. They make promises and break them, not because of malice, but because of everyday life getting in the way.

If you are my friend, I make this pledge. I won’t promise to keep every promise I ever make to you. I know myself too well for that.

I can promise to extend you grace for when you fail. I can promise to pray for you when you’re happy or sad, whether you are in a good place or struggling, whether you live out of the joy of being Abba’s Child or don’t know who you are that day.

I can promise to always give you the benefit of the doubt and no matter what, see the best in you. I’ve had people who saw good things in me even when I couldn’t and helped bring those things out in me. And I’m better for it.

I want to see Jesus shining brightly through you and you to be every bit of who God made you to be, confidently standing strong in your faith and taking a bit of Heaven with you everywhere you go.

I love hearing your stories. I love seeing how God has worked in your life and how you are being transformed daily. I would love to meet with you and hear your faith stories (the ideal place is Starbucks, but I am flexible).

May the Lord bless and keep you and make His face to shine on you. May you hear Him singing over you tonight and leaping for joy over you in the morning.

Tuesday Musings

“For all thy blessings, known and unknown, remembered and forgotten, we give thee thanks” (from an old prayer quoted by Frederick Buechner).

Buechner calls it a crazy, holy grace. I like that. I also like it when he says that “faith is the assurance that the best and holiest dream is true after all.”

It changes how you look at faith when you realize that what you believe in is a “true myth,” as J.R.R. Tolkien explained Christianity to a then-unconverted C.S. Lewis. It’s not too good to be true; it’s too good not to be true.

The Gospel is the ultimate fairy tale come to life, the ultimate story of how the Hero has come to rescue us from the Wicked Stepmother and the Evil Queen and all the other dark and terrible forces in this world.

I forget that sometimes. I forget what I was saved from. I forget that I at one time desperately needed rescuing. I only see that my life doesn’t make sense and doesn’t always look like I want it to.

But when I look at life itself as grace, then I see the fact that I woke up at all this morning and drew breath as pretty amazing. This day, both the good and bad, from start to finish, has been a gift.

I have friends to remind me. They always make me smile and make me want to be more like Jesus. I try to bless and encourage them, but end up being far more on the receiving end of these things.

I’m still learning to live with open hands instead of clenched fists that cling to what’s mine, like my rights, my wants, my desires, my need for vindication, etc. Clenched fists can’t receive anything from anyone or from God. God only gives to those with open hands and open hearts and open minds.

I still remember the prayer a friend taught me: “Lord, I come to you with open hands. If all I get in this moment is You and the next breath, that will be enough.” I think that’s my prayer for Tuesday, May 15.

Don’t Give Up

This is a word for the faint-hearted and down-trodden. Don’t give up.

You may be close to giving up or throwing in the towel or calling it quits, but don’t.

You may think the storm will never abate and the sky will always be filled with dark and ominous clouds and the sun will never come out again, but it will.

Your marriage may be hanging on by the slimmest of threads. You may dread getting up each morning and going to your job. You may sometimes wonder how your life came to seem so hopeless.

But don’t give up.

You may not think anyone sees or cares, but God does. And He’s already at work.

Somedays, it feels like you’re swimming upstream and wearing yourself out while getting nowhere, but God is leading you to a place that you don’t yet know but once you get there, it will all have been worth it.

Just trust God and take the next step. That’s all.

Take it from someone who’s been there. It will get better.

 

Happy Mother’s Day to the Best Mom Ever!

Happy Mother’s Day to Delores Johnson, the best mom a guy ever had. Of all the moms I’ve ever had, you’re my favorite!

You took me to all those recitals and practics, including that ill-fated attempt at t-ball where all I did was play in the sandbox. Not to mention that aborted disaster that was gymnastics.

You took me to piano lessons, soccer practice, Boy Scouts, field trips, and to all those bookstores and music stores. It seemed like you must have logged a million miles on all those blue station wagons.

You took care of me when I got sick and made me feel better. You gave me crackers and coke for when I couldn’t hold anything else down. You kissed all my boo-boos and made them go away.

You survived my 10th birthday party at the skating rink at East End with all my 4th grade friends. You even managed to keep most of your sanity intact.

You were with us through the loss of three dogs and one parakeet, not forgetting those short-lived sea monkeys who prematurely expired due to a badly-thrown nerf football.

I always loved opening my lunchbox on Valentine’s Day and finding those little shoebox cards inside with those Little Debbie cakes.

You made vacations fun. You made rainy days fun. You made life fun.

I love you lots and in case I didn’t ever tell you before, you’re my hero. You’re one of the best, godliest women I know and if the woman I marry is half of who you are, I will be blessed indeed.

Lucy has read all the above and gives her two paws up as sign of her consent.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Just About Everything I Like Is Old

Earlier today, when I was browsing the aisles at Sam’s Club, I happened across one of my favorite movies, The Goonies, on blu ray. Needless to say, I snatched it up and took it in my happy little hands and bought it. Then I took it home and watched it immediately. That movie invaded theatres back in 1985, 27 years ago. I felt old.

Friday, on one of my Goodwill scavenger hunts, I found Ace of Base on CD. It’s been in my car stereo taking me back to 1993, which by my math is 19 years ago. Yikes. The car is an 17-year old Jeep Cherokee that is now considered “vintage.”

One of my favorite TV series that I am revisiting is the revival of Dark Shadows that premiered on ABC 21 years ago in 1991. And yes, I am still miffed that the show got cancelled after only 12 episodes.

For the record, I have a Bible exactly like the one picture above. It’s one of my prized possessions and  is from 1828, which makes it 184 years old. More importantly that makes it older than me. Finally!

I am officially 40 years old. My cat Lucy is 12. As previously mentioned, my car is almost old enough to vote.

But old isn’t always bad. Sometimes, it’s a good thing. Fashions change and trends come and go, but true family and friends are forever.

In fact, some of the best things in life are old. I’ll go even further and say that the very best things in life are eternal. As C.S. Lewis eloquently expressed it, “All that is not eternal is eternally out of date.”

God is eternal. God is forever. God as revealed in Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He is your True North, a constant when your life seems to be spiraling out of control and spinning of its axis.

As for me, I am a fan of old things. I am decidedly on the side of the eternal and unchangeable. And I am on God’s side, because He was on my side from the very beginning. What about you?

Dumb Mistakes

I remember vividly when I was a kid waiting for my sister. She took ballet and I would wait outside the building until her practice was over. One time, I had the genius idea and thought, “When she comes out, I’m racing her to the car.”

Lo and behold, she came out and I took off running. I didn’t stop until I sat down in the car. Then I looked up. I thought, “Hey, you’re not my sister. Hey, wait a minute, this isn’t our car.” It was probably one of the most awkward situations I’ve ever been in.

Maybe your mistake wan’t as funny. Maybe it was devastating or tragic. Maybe it ruined a friendship or even a marriage. Maybe you feel like you’re still paying for that mistake made so many years ago.

You’re not alone. Moses messed up royally. He got angry with God’s people and spoke as if he and not God were responsible for giving the Israelites water and helping them out of jams time and time again.

Then there’s David, who committed adultery with Bathsheeba, lied to and tried to deceive her husband, then finally had him killed. I think that qualifies as an epic fail.

The good news is that your story doesn’t have to end with failure. God offers forgiveness and a fresh start if you own up to what you did and are willing to change and go in a different direction.

I love what David wrote in Psalm 51 after he confessed to his own sin and repented of it:

“Generous in love—God, give grace! Huge in mercy—wipe out my bad record.

Scrub away my guilt,

soak out my sins in your laundry.

I know how bad I’ve been;

my sins are staring me down.

You’re the One I’ve violated, and you’ve seen

it all, seen the full extent of my evil.

You have all the facts before you;

whatever you decide about me is fair.

I’ve been out of step with you for a long time,

in the wrong since before I was born.

What you’re after is truth from the inside out.

Enter me, then; conceive a new, true life.

Soak me in your laundry and I’ll come out clean,

scrub me and I’ll have a snow-white life.

Tune me in to foot-tapping songs,

set these once-broken bones to dancing.

Don’t look too close for blemishes,

give me a clean bill of health.

God, make a fresh start in me,

shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.

Don’t throw me out with the trash,

or fail to breathe holiness in me.

Bring me back from gray exile,

put a fresh wind in my sails!

Give me a job teaching rebels your ways

so the lost can find their way home.

Commute my death sentence, God, my salvation God,

and I’ll sing anthems to your life-giving ways.

Unbutton my lips, dear God;

I’ll let loose with your praise.”

All I can add to that is

Amen.

The Most Un-Epic Blog You Will Ever Read

I am sitting here with my lap top and my lap cat snoozing contentedly away (the lap cat is sleeping, not the lap top). All is well.

I didn’t wake up today with the super spiritual powers of ultimate patience, unending mercy, and unconditional love. Honestly, I didn’t feel like getting up at all so I set the alarm clock on my phone back 30 minutes before I finally rolled out of bed.

I still get angry too easily and I still am not very good at taking those thoughts captive. Sometimes, I have a terrible attitude and even blame God every now and then that my life isn’t what I think it should be.

But I can see that I’m a little more patient, a little more kind, a little more understanding, a little more ready to forgive and not plot revenge in my head.

I am a little more trusting in God’s plans for me and a little more willing to wait patiently and silently. I’m a little more at peace with unanswered questions and unfulfilled longings and desires.

The life of faith for me is the baby step by baby step version (did anyone else just think of Bill Murray in What About Bob? ‘Cause I sure did).

Somedays it’s 4 steps forward, 3 steps back. Some days, it’s 2 steps forward, 3 steps back. Overall, I am moving forward, ever so slowly, but ever so surely.

Sometimes you get the Charleton Heston as Moses parting the Red Sea moments, but more often than not, you get the quiet moments when you’re waiting for the still, small voice.

For me, my life of faith is less like an action movie filled with CGI and exposions and sometimes scantily-clad women and more like a quirky independent comedy-drama with complex yet endearing characters, a scenic backdrop, and a quiet ending with an epiphany or two in it. Maybe with subtities, maybe not.

By the way, the lap cat is purring, so that probably means she approves this message. And so do I.

Naked

At Kairos, Mike Glenn spoke about how Adam and Eve were naked in the Garden of Eden and unashamed. That got me thinking. How great would it be if we were all naked?

I don’t mean naked in the sense of those movies they show late at night on those pay cable channels with the cheesy background music. Not that I would know anything at all about those kinds of movies.

I mean naked where there are no masks and no facades, no faking or pretending. Where you and I can truly be ourselves, with baggage and scars and hang-ups and be accepted as we are.

A good marriage is one where each person can truly be naked and unashamed; that is, each is genuine and authentic and real and honest and vulnerable and forgiving. That’s what I long for some day.

I think the Church is also a good place for people to be truly themselves. Where you can confess to one another and not be ostracized for it. Where you are allowed to be weak and doubting and insecure and temptation-prone and still belong. Where you’re family.

The nearer you draw to God, the more you are able to be your true self, the one God made you to be and the one He is transforming you into. You worry less and less about the opinions of others and are more comfortable standing outside the popular opinions and trends.

I still love the fact that Jesus saw me at my worst and set His love on me in that moment when I couldn’t possibly be more messed up. I love how He’s seen all the hidden sins and vile thoughts and ugly attitudes and His love for me has not diminished one bit (and it never will).

My prayer for you is that you can come before God completely naked and not hiding behind religious pretense and holy words and find shelter in His love.

Waiting

Waiting is not doing nothing. Waiting is not sitting idly by watching for God to drop our dreams in our laps.

Waiting means getting ready. It means preparing your fields for rain so that in due time you may reap a harvest.

Waiting means an open mind, a listening ear, and a softened heart.

Waiting means trusting in God’s perfect timing, not forcing anything or speeding things up, but actively trusting that God knows what He’s doing and that what He’s doing is for His glory and for your good.

Waiting means letting go of what you’re grasping with clenched fists to receive what God is preparing you for. It means possibly letting go of something good to receive something better.

Waiting is not something you can learn about by reading up on it or studying other people who wait. You can only learn to wait by waiting, by experience of trial and error and frustration and impatients that finally resolves into peace and serenity and the faith of a child.

Waiting means living with tension and notes that don’t resolve. It means being content with not having answers, but only silence to your myriad of questions.

Waiting is to be still and know that Yahweh is God. He’s in control and His plans will prevail.

Waiting the right way is never in vain and never without its rewards, among those the being greater knowledge and closer intimacy with God. That and that alone is worth the costs that come with waiting.

There’s a lot more to learn about waiting that will take a lifetime to master, but I know this: waiting is a good thing.