maturity

Has It Really Been 22 Years?

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In case you’re wondering what 22 years is referring to, that’s how long it’s been since I went on an actual date. With an actual girl. To a place outside my imagination.

At first, that thought was horribly and mind-numbingly depressing, but later I saw it as a blessing. More on that later. Back to the sad me.

I’ve never kissed a girl. And no, I have not nor will I ever kiss a dude. Blech!

I’ve never even held hands with a girl outside of prayer groups. And yes, I was one of those guys who tried to strategically place myself next to the girl I liked right before the prayer started so I could hold her hand. Notice how I said “tried.” Key word there.

But you know what?

I’m still blessed.

I’m still living my miracle.

How?

I have known nights where I didn’t think I could hold on until the sunrise. It was then I felt my Abba’s arms encircling me, holding me tight. There is not a moment when my hand has ever slipped out of the firm grip of my Father’s strong hand.

And yes, I have known the sweet kisses of grace and the embrace of mercy unfolding over and around me. I know what it is to be desired by the Great Lover and ravished by Sweet Words of Love. I know Jesus sings over me nightly because His delight is in me.

So I am as blessed (or more so) than people with far more impressive dating resumes who have found their dream-mate.

I know I was, am, and will always be the dream in God’s heart, the apple of His eye, the one He adores, and His beloved son in whom He is well pleased.

That is so much more than enough for me.

Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word

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“Forgiveness is the name of love practiced among people who love poorly. The hard truth is that all people love poorly. We need to forgive and be forgiven every day, every hour increasingly. That is the great work of love among the fellowship of the weak that is the human family.” (Henri Nouwen)

I’ve posted and blogged and mentioned multiple times before how the hardest person to forgive is often yourself. You know yourself too well and you know your own weaknesses because a certain adversary reminds you of them every single day.

I know I’ve blown it with a friend and the friendship won’t ever be the same again. We used to hang out and be good friends but now she won’t even sit on the same side of the room as me and we feel like really good acquaintances.

There are one or two (including that one at Starbucks) who have taken to actively disliking me and nothing I say or do will change that. For me, I have to remember that I can’t be friends with everyone and that it’s not my job to make every single person like me. It’s my job to be the best me possible.

But forgiveness isn’t optional. Not with others and especially not with ourselves. How dare I choose not to forgive myself when God (who incidentally knows me better than I do) has freely forgiven me? And why would I want to live under a cloud of condemnation when I don’t have to?

No one does relationships well. We mistrust each other. We read too much into silences and jests. We say the wrong things and fail to say the right things. Most of us have gotten used to the taste of shoe leather from sticking our feet in our mouths so often.

But real friendship between two believers is the Jesus in me communing with the Jesus in you. It’s practicing forgiveness and grace and blessing, giving these abundantly because we know our desperate need for all of the above.

You are not your past. Or your mistakes. You are not the names you’ve been called or that you’ve called yourself.

You are:

Redeemed

Forgiven

Blessed

Child of God

Beautiful

Beloved

To Die For

The One Your Abba Is Still Very Fond Of

May we speak not hurt but life, not wounds but blessings into each other. May we always look to see the best in ourselves and in others and call out the beautiful and glorious in each other. May we learn to love others and ourselves the way God has always loved us.

Learning to Listen Well

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I love serving at Room in the Inn at my church during the colder months of the year. It helps more than anything to get me out of myself and into a more others-centered mind frame.

Tonight, I went to a dinner where Dr. Ken Corr, Congregational Care Minister at Brentwood Baptist Church, spoke about how to effectively minister to the homeless. One of the takeaways for me was empathetic listening.

Empathetic listening seeks to understand what the person speaking is feeling. It’s where you step into that person’s shoes and hear the story from their side.

It’s not about giving advice or trying to fix their story to make it better. It’s not even about offering to give their story a better outcome. It’s certainly not about formulating your response (as I have so often done) so that you will come across as wiser and kinder than you really are.

For someone to tell you their story is a rare and precious gift. They are inviting you into their private world, letting you in to a place that few people have been allowed. You should value that trust and respect the gift.

But also, the gift of truly listening is equally a special gift to someone. You’re saying to that person, “You are not invisible, because I see you in your struggles and triumphs, joys and pains. You are not alone, because I am a witness to your story and I know where you’ve been and what you’ve been through.”

You earn the right to speak life and blessing into a person’s life by listening to not just their words, but the feelings behind those words. Many times, the person will be unable to understand their own feelings related to their story. You can share what their story made you feel and in that way help them understand their own emotions.

I want to be a better listener. I want to learn to listen to what you have to say, for that is one of the ways God often speaks to me. May we all learn to listen well.

Blog #1,161

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I still write these blogs as reminders to myself of how good God’s been to me. I am so very forgetful and prone to wander, prone to leave the God I love, prone to return to broken cisterns of doubt and fear.

I write about grace so much because I love it so much, and I love it so much because I’ve needed it and found it at just the right times. Left to myself, I can very clingy and needy, very co-dependent, and self-absorbed. I am an approval-addict. An affirmation junkie.

But that grace of God found me. And it did not leave me where it found me. I found that Jesus’ amazing love for me makes me loveable. I discovered that it’s more than okay for me to be myself. It’s the best form of worship I can offer. Just me loving being me. Me refusing to be conformed to what everybody else says I should be, to what the media tells me I need to be to matter.

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I will never stop telling the story of how Eucharisteo forged my miracle, how a lifestyle of joy and gratitude and thanksgiving opened my eyes to manifold blessings and allowed me to open closed fists to receive more of God’s riches.

I am blessed. Even if I never have a six-figure salary. Even if I am ever more the friend and never the love interest, the guy girls want to marry. Even if I never get another blessing or another visible reminder of God’s presence.

Here’s to 1,000 more posts to remind forgetful me of how good my life is and how great God is. Here’s to all of you who keep encouraging me, challenging me, and blessing me in ways I will never be able to repay.

Thank you.

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Friends, Frothy Monkey, and Franklin

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A lady I work with remarked that the only good cats were dead ones. Obviously, she’s not a fan of cats. Lord, forgive them for they know not what they’re missin’.

I had another great night in downtown Franklin. I had a spectacular roast beef and provolone sandwich at my very favorite place to eat on Earth, which as you should know by now is McCreary’s Irish Pub. Seeing as I chose to eat at the optimal senior citizen dining time of 4:30 pm, I got prime seating on the patio on a picturesque Autumn afternoon.

Later, I ran into one of my favorite friends who always makes my heart happy when I see her and never fails to encourage me and make me smile. She and her dad were headed over to Sweet CeCe’s for some fro-yo (that is frozen yogurt for the novices out there). I recommended the pumpkin pie flavor, which is exceedingly delightful.

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I had a sweet potato pie latte at Frothy Monkey and sat on the patio while I sipped my little cup of heaven and reveled in just how very blessed I am. If I counted all my blessings, I’d easily surpass the 1,500 I came up with in my Things I Love series. I’d lose count before I ran out of blessings.

I got treated to an organ concert at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. Well, it was more like the organ dude practicing and me showing up at the right time. I prayed a bit, sat still and silent for a bit, and just tried to be in the moment. A girl sat directly across from me, deep in prayer. I still don’t know who she was or what burdens she carried, but I did my best to intercede for her and agree with her in prayer for whatever she was asking from God. It felt like genuine New Testament Church.

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I had ol’ Hank Williams (Sr., not Jr.) providing the soundtrack to my ride home. With the windows down and the volume cranked up. It was magical.

Now I’m sitting here typing this on my iPad while my cat reposes in my lap. To many people’s great and lasting disappointment, she’s not dead. Only very sleepy. Probably dreaming of tuna again.

 

Another Bonfire and More Eucharisteo

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My community group met at a friend’s house for a bonfire. This wasn’t quite like the last one. I felt like a bit of a fifth wheel (or in this case, a seventh wheel).

I’m not blaming anybody but myself. I was tired and not feeling particularly Tookish. For those who have a life and haven’t read everything Tolkien has ever written at least ten times, it means my social butterfly side was dormant and my awkward caterpillar side was in charge.

I left early and ended up at Blue Coast Burrito. The girl who worked there complimented me on my I Am Second bracelet and that led to a good conversation. It turns out she is a missionary with Mobilizing Students and is looking to go live overseas in the next year or two.

It was a God-moment. Eucharisteo at work. If I had gone to Bar-B-Cutie’s (like I very nearly did), I would have missed this moment. If I had stayed at the bonfire, I would have not met Jenny, whose fervor for her calling blessed me.

God has a funny way of turning off nights into new adventures. I’m learning in my walk of faith to expect the unexpected and to be certain that God is always working around me, even on random Friday nights in October.

I don’t know what I’ll be doing this time tomorrow or where I’ll be. I know the same God who showed up tonight will be there and I know it will be another good night.

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Yes, It’s Hump Daaaaay (and Yes, I’m Sick of That Geico Commercial. Enough Already)

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it’s Wednesday (in case you were one of the two people living under a rock who didn’t know what hump day was). Currently, I am in one of my many therapy sessions with Doctor Lucy, per usual, sleeping on the job. At least her rates are very affordable and she accepts my insurance.

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I am at peace with the world. Or at least my world. I am very content with where I am and what I have, knowing that I am smack dab in the middle of God’s plan for me and that I am in Christ and He is in me. Every promise of God belongs to me and there is nothing that I lack. Every single thing I need for life to the full and holiness is mine.

So why is that not enough for me most of the time? Why do I always want more than what God offers in the moment? Why can’t I let go of the trinkets in my hands to receive eternal treasures?

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I don’t have any good answers.

i do know that I am still living my miracle, surrounded by a cloud of witnesses and spurred on daily by family and friends who speak blessings and life and healing and peace into my being.

Joy is still found not by looking ahead or looking back but from seeing the now and being present in this moment. It is so elusive to those with no time or patience for it but is found by those who need it most. When they need it the most.

 

Life is still good, God is still great, and I am still so very blessed.

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Good Thoughts from a Good Friend

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / 1 Comment

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I was talking tonight to a good friend I hadn’t seen in a while and she said something very profound that I haven’t gotten my brain wrapped around yet.

I remarked that I love encouraging people. Or maybe that I really love chocolate creme Oreos. I honestly don’t remember now. But what she said in response blew what little mind I have left to smithereens.

She said that we give to others those things we need the most from others.

In other words, I give encouragement because for me, being encouraged is like getting oxygen. It’s life to me. I love giving hugs because I love getting them.

It can get unhealthy when I start expecting you to return the good I do for you in the same measure and spirit in which it was given. Then it can become a kind of manipulation.

But often, it can spur great kindnesses. I know I need grace, so I try to give it often. I also know I’m not alone in my need of it, so I can meet an often unspoken need and bless someone by giving them what they so desperately need but don’t know how to ask for it.

As I reflect tonight, I realize again just how very blessed I am. I have so many family members and friends who speak life, healing, blessing, correction, and joy into my life. You show me Jesus every single day and spur me on to greater love and devotion for my Savior. You keep me sane and positive.

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I talk about how eucharisteo precedes the miracle. You, my friends and my family, ARE my miracle. I mean that literally.

Thank you. May God bless you as you have blessed me and lift you up as you have lifted me up. May you know the extravagant, prodigal, lavish, crazy love of Abba Father for you until it fills you up and splashes out onto every single person around you.

Amen.

All Things Cornhole

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Tonight, KSA ( that is Kairos Sports Adventure for the uninitiated) had a Cornhole tournament and chili cook off. What is cornhole, you say?

First off, it is not this.

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Or this.

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Cornhole is “a serious toss game played in leauges on the West Side of Cincinnati Ohio. The game and targets are very similar to Bag’O, a commercial game from the East Coast U.S..” All that to say it involves tossing a bean bag at a rectangular board with a hole cut out in it.

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Mostly, it’s about getting together with friends and having fun. It’s about sharing life.

I met some people tonight that I hope I’ll become friends with over time.

And FYI, if you want to know what cornhole really is, didn’t look it up on google. Ask someone who’s played before. Let’s just say there are some things you can never unsee (or unread).

I am learning to find joy in the minutiae of life, in the small moments and conversations. I am learning that gratitude and thanksgiving unlock the ability to see God more in these moments and find His joy everywhere.

Life is the miracle of breathing grace in and out, of being present to the present, of experiencing fully every second you get from God.

Thank you to Stephanie and Emily and everyone else who made tonight possible. It was indeed a good night.

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Dar Williams and the Song in Your Heart

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According to Foursquare (an app on my iPhone), I hadn’t been to any concerts or movies at the Franklin Theatre since April. Until tonight.

I was in row D, seat 3 to hear one of my favorite singer-songwriters, Dar Williams, put on a great show. Even her opening act, Angel Snow, was fantastic. It was a good night.

Dar performed my two favorite songs of hers, “The One Who Knows” and “The Beauty of the Rain,” as well as several other gems. Her music always takes me to a peaceful place and her songs are most definitely an integral part of the ever-changing and ever-growing soundtrack to my life.

Jesus has been reminding me of the song in my own heart that I had begun to forget. Joy and thanksgiving, or eucharisteo, is my song and I’m thankful for friends and family who periodically remind me when I’ve forgotten the words or lost the melody.

I am one note in a living symphony of God’s love for the world He made. I may be only one small part, but without me, the symphony loses something. The same with you. The world around you needs to hear your own unique song and your small but vital part in God’s overture.

Let your life be the biggest hymn of praise that you sing. A hymn of thanksgiving, of hope restored, of dreams reborn, and of grace. Especially grace.

I will help to remind you of your song when you forget the words and root for you when your part in the Grand Symphony arrives. That’s what Church is for– to remind each other of the goodness of God and to love each other and God well. That’s a song the world around us has been dying to hear.