gratitude

Baggage Part I: Letting Go

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Who doesn’t have baggage? I certainly know I do. I’m pretty sure anyone who is over the age of 5 and who still has a pulse has accumulated some kind of baggage over the years.

What is my baggage? Probably right now, I’m carrying around the constant need to be validated, affirmed, approved, and liked every single moment.

I find myself at the end of conversations thinking I’ve said or texted the absolute wrong thing and ruined the relationship. Things like, “Did I really just end the conversation with ‘Text me’? Is it even possible for there to be a lamer ending to a conversation?”

I think I let go of a little bit of my baggage tonight. I think I’ve finally come to the point where I may not trust myself to keep my relationships alive, but I know that God will keep the right people in my life for as long as they need to be there.

I’ve mentioned before that I am a work in progress. I’m 4o and my dating history reads like a black comedy or a tragedy (either one works, so take your pick). I haven’t had a real girlfriend since I was 5 (her name was Carrie, by the way).

I think I’m more comfortable with my own path and not trying to hijack God’s plan for someone else. I’m learning to enjoy the process and the journey and not be so OCD about the destination.

I think I’m learning that I don’t have to be clever or witty (or even overly coherent) for God to speak through me.

I’m finally learning to be patient with my own process and who I am becoming. I’m more patient with the shortcomings of others, because I’ve seen so much of my own and I’ve seen how very strong God can be in my weakness.

What is your baggage? You have a choice. You can either hold on to your shame and guilt and fear and anger or you can hold onto Jesus, but you can’t hold on to both. And yes, I borrowed that one from Mike Glenn.

You don’t have to carry that baggage forever. You don’t have to let it define you or be a pemanent part of your wardrobe. It all begins with saying, “I can’t do this anymore. I need you, Jesus, to take this and carry it for me.” It may be a process, but it’s so much fun to feel the weight fall off.

May you find that what you’ve carried all this time is one day no longer a part of you. May you find more and more freedom in Christ. May you hear and believe the words at this very moment that “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Amen.

Sometimes I Wish . . .

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Sometimes I wish I were my cat for one whole day. I could sleep 23 out of the 24 hours in the day, take a wild 15 minute romp through the house, and spend the remaining 45 minutes eating and reposing (not to mention the occasional litterbox visit). That would be a good day.

Sometimes I wish Monopoly money were real. Then I’d be rich, but then so would everybody else with the Monopoly boardgame and gas would probably go up to $10 a gallon. Never mind.

Sometimes I wish people would break out of their ruts and familiar crowds and places and branch out to new people and places. Yes, I’m including me in this little wish.

Sometimes I wish life were like the movies where love and fortune drop in your lap and you spend the rest of your days in a happily ever after that requires no effort or sacrifice. Then again, I would take it for granted and it wouldn’t mean much.

Sometimes I wish I could go back and do a few things differently and make different choices. But then I realize that every single choice I’ve ever made has led me to this point, surrounded by the best family and friends any guy could ever ask for. So I’ll stick with my original choices. Final answer.

I wish a lot of things. Most of them won’t ever come true. Wishing and dreaming without a plan is just fantasy. Or worse, it’s delusional.

What are you doing to make your wishes come true? Better yet, what am I doing?

I am probably the world’s worst when it comes to actually starting a plan and seeing it through. Kinda like the lame joke about joining Procrastinators Anonymous . . . . tomorrow.

The key reality in all this is that God’s still very much in control. I make my plans and plan my future, but God directs my steps. I can look back and see that I could have chosen differently many times in my life, but I can see where every choice I made ended up leading me right where God wanted me to be all along.

After reading what I just wrote, I wish I didn’t have ADD. But sometimes random is more fun than normal.

Night Volleyball

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I participated in a game of volleyball at a Memorial Day cookout with some friends. Needless to say, none of us will probably be making the U.S. Olympic team in 2012 or anytime soon.

From a volleyball purist standpoint, we played the game all wrong. We didn’t set the ball up or even hit it correctly. More times than not, the ball went in the opposite direction of the net or under the net or even into the net.

Whoever invented volleyball was probably rolling over in his grave. Or else he died just so he could be buried and roll over in his grave. It wasn’t pretty.

But it was fun.

We gave each player a do-over on messed-up serves. We complimented each other on near-misses and flat-out whiffs. When the automatic lights went out, one of us would go do our best version of the Riverdance to get the lights back on.

By the time we were done playing, the game was more of a comedy than a competition. But we had fun and laughed at ourselves and with each other.

It was grace in action. Too bad we as believers aren’t that way all the time.

For the moments when I open up my mouth and say something stupid, I need grace.

For the moments when you send the text before you think it through and wish for the next 24 hours you could take it back, you need grace.

For all the times when we break our promises and fail to be light and salt and witnesses of the great God who saved us, we all need grace.

For all the times we screw up royally again after promising God and the world we wouldn’t, we all need grace. For daily falling short of all God meant for us to be to ourselves and each other and to Him, we all need grace. Desparately.

Grace isn’t just undeserved favor. That falls short of what grace is. Grace is undeserved favor in the face of deserved wrath. That’s something I learned recently and something I’m still thinking about.

Grace means that you’re not alone and neither am I. Grace means we walk together, we fall together, and we get back up together. We laugh together, we cry together, we fail together, and we overcome together.

And it took a game of night volleyball to remind me of all that.

Naked

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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.

Christian Reciprocity Revisited, Or What I Learned from Kairos Roots Tonight

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I feel like Mr. Rogers. “The word for today is reciprocity. Can you say reciprocity, boys and girls? Very good.”

Basically, the word means give and take. It’s all about giving and receiving.

There will be times when God blesses you. You will pick up your Bible and truths and insight will practically jump off the pages. You will have an unexpected bonus from work or a pay raise or some other financial blessing. You will be in a good position to give.

Then there will be other times when you read the Bible and it might as well be in Greek for what you get out of it. You have an overdraft or two at the bank and your bank account has a rather unpleasant negative sign in front of the number. Then you are in a good place to learn how to receive.

Even life experiences can be shared in the same way. You go through tragedy and heartbreak at times and find others who are willing to share your load and get you through. Later,  you are able to walk with someone else who is going through the same valley.

I do believe that we are most like Jesus when we are giving freely, expecting nothing in return, to those least likely to reciprocate the favor.

I also believe that it is a good lesson to learn to receive gratiously and humbly. To not receive is to rob someone else of the blessing of giving out of pride or false self-sufficiency.

The bottom line is that all we have is from God. We didn’t earn one red cent apart from His grace and provision. In the end, we’re not owners. We’re stewards, taking care of what really belongs to God.

Lord, give us Your eyes to see the need and Your generous heart to reach out with what You gave us to help meet that need. May we not give just our resources and our time but our very lives away for the cause of Christ every single day for the rest of our lives. Amen.

It’s Wednesday

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I keep thinking about how Aaron Bryant described the father in the prodigal son parable. Especially about how radical his expression of love for his son was.

The son had his return speech down-pat. He would be a servant and work his way back into his father’s good graces. At least this way, he would have three square meals and a roof over his head. Better than that pig slop and pig sty he came from. Literally.

What did the son see? Did he see his father standing far off with his arms crossed and a look of disappointment or anger or shame? Did he see his father turn his back away to not see him coming down the road?

No.

He saw his father take off running down the road, tears streaming, and practically tackle him in the biggest bear hug ever in human history.

From a cultural standpoint, there are several things wrong. First of all, grown men didn’t run back then. At least not respectable ones. Second, the right thing to do would be to disown the son and have a funeral and consider him dead.

I think the definition of prodigal fits the father more than the son. It’s lavish, excessive, extravagant, and almost wasteful. That describes perfectly this love the father had for his wayward son.

That’s the kind of love the Father has for us. A love that caused Him to take on the lowly flesh of a slave and take that long, arduous, painful march to the Cross to die a humiliating and criminal death for you and me.

It’s Wednesday. You’re halfway through another week, looking forward to another weekend that will probably be over all too soon with another Monday right behind.

Remember that you are greatly blessed, highly favored, and (best of all) deeply loved. Your Abba is still very much fond of you and always will be.

May that be what carries you through Thursday and into the weekend and beyond.

Thanksgiving and Gratitude

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One thing I need to improve (out of many, many things) is to learn to cultivate a grateful spirit. I am far too often consumed by thoughts of what I don’t have, what I lack, and what I didn’t get.

Lately, I have found myself anything but grateful. I have found seeds of anger and bitterness and impatience welling up in me. I have had fears of what-ifs, such as what if I never get married, what if I never get that dream job, etc.

Tonight, I was invited to a cookout with good friends. I realized then and there just how very blessed I am. I am more blessed than I deserve to know the people I know, and more so that they actually like me back.

I am blessed by good health and a job and family who loves and encourages me and friends who stick around and say nice things about me and live out Christ in a way that challenges and inspires me.

Most of all, I am blessed by the relentless love of a God who continues to passionately pursue my heart and makes me more like Jesus every single day. Even when He allows circumstances I would not have chosen and answers prayers but not in the way I would have answered them, He is still good to me.

Even if I found out tonight that I used up all my allotted blessings and had no more left, I would be good. If I never got one more prayer answered and had all the rest of my dreams evaporate and all my hopes dashed, I’d be okay. Why?

Because I am still Abba’s child and He is still very fond of me. I know that He’s on my side and He fights for me and sings over me in the night.

And that’s enough for me right now.

My Monday in Perspective

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I had a Monday kind of Monday. If that makes sense to you, you probably had the same kind of day I had.

First of all, I went to get in my car only to find that my driver side door was frozen shut. No amount of pleading, begging, cajoling, or muttering would cause it to budge. I had to crawl in from the passenger side door. Not my finest and most graceful moment.

Then I got to work, only to discover that my computer was disconnected from the company network and I couldn’t do any work. I really hated that. I know you can tell how much I really really hated that. I had to sit there and drink my Mello Yello, contemplating all that work that wasn’t getting done. Yeah right.

My shining moment was when I went to press the elevator button to go up to the 4th floor. I pressed and I pressed. I flashed my badge just so this elevator would know who it was dealing with. Not just any bum off the street, but a bona fide employee. Then I realized the problem was that I was already on the 4th floor. Fail.

A little perspective: my driver side door was frozen shut, but I still have a car, albeit a “vintage” model that is old enough to have its own driver’s liscence.

I have a job. It may annoy me and cause me some un-Baptist thoughts at times, but I haven’t had the stress of being out there job hunting for a long time. And for that I’m grateful.

When I think of the homeless guy at Room at the Inn, many of whom are struggling to make it from day to day, never sure where their next meal or bed is coming from, I call myself blessed. I really do have so much that I take for granted.

In fact, from a global perspective, the fact that I had a full meal, access to clean water, transportation, shelter, adequate clothing, and actual money in my pocket makes me rich.

I still don’t like Mondays. I think they’re a terrible way to spend 1/7 of your life. But I’ll take any Monday where I am still alive and breathing and healthy and blessed over any other day of the week where I’m not.

As I heard it put so well, any day without a toe tag is a good day.

A Reminder to Myself

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I wrote this a couple of years ago as a declaration of sorts. It was mostly for me so that whenever I got discouraged or felt like giving up or got off track in my priorities, I could remind myself of who I’m really chasing after and serving. It’s my own version of Habakkuk 3:17-18.

Though my plans disintegrate and my aspirations die, though my dreams shatter and my goals are thwarted, even if no woman ever is romantically interested in me and all my friends leave me, though I never have another visible reminder of God’s presence or spiritual comfort, if all I have in life is God and only God, I will lift my hands up to Heaven and proclaim that my Yahweh is good to me. My Yahweh is AWESOME!!!

I challenge you to write your own version to remind yourself of the goodness of Yahweh so that when everything seels to be going wrong and it feels like everyone has turned their backs on you and left you, you can have the reminder of God’s faithfulness. Of course, the original is the best and it speaks volumes to me every time I read it. I may not have crops or livestock, but the truth contained is just as relevant for me as it was for the original hearers way back when.

No matter what happens, God remains faithful. Even when all my worst fears come true, He’s still worthy of the best of my praise and worship. If nothing comes out like I planned or hoped it would, God is still God and He’s still in charge.

Remember that in the good and bad days, in the sunshine and in the storms, because it’s what will sustain you through all the seasons.

Goodwill Finds

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I am fast becoming a Goodwill junkie. I love going in those stores, not knowing what I’ll find, and walking away with a few unexpected treasures. Like today, for instance. I went in looking for music and came out with a little stained glass piece that has Romans 8:31 on it. Well, it looks like stained glass to my untrained eye. I went in with visions of finding Amy Winehouse CDs and found something I didn’t expect to find, but ended up being much more meaningful to me than what I was looking for.

I think life is a lot like that.

Sure, you can live your life in safe mode. That’s where you always hang out with the same people and go to the same places. That’s where you love people who are loveable and and invest in the friendships with people who are popular and know the secret handshake and password. Those in the know and on the go, so to speak.

That’s fine, but you never find any unexpected treasures there.

Sometimes, you have to go out of your way to find that treasure hidden in a field that’s worth more than everything you own put together. Sometimes, you have to get out of your safe life to find the most satisfying and rewarding moments.

Maybe the treasure is found in the friends who are on the outside with the in-crowd, but who have deep wells of wisdom when it comes to walking with Jesus. Maybe it’s in serving those who won’t say thank you, or giving to those who will never pay you back.

Maybe it’s in giving that someone a second chance after they screwed up the first and finding that forgiveness is its own reward.

I think God deliberately puts the most precious things and people and places and moments in the most ordinary disguises so that they will mean that much more to us when we find them and see them for their true worth and value. It’s a fearful thing to step out in faith that way, but the risk is always way more than worth it.

I can think of a few friends who have turned out to be golden. My family is the same way. Those memories I cherish most happened when I was expecting something else (or not expecting anyhing at all).

Sometimes, when you go digging through the trash, when you go to the lowliest places, sometimes you will look into the face of the broken and hopeless and outcast and find Jesus there.