Things I Love 12: Tested And Approved by Lucy The Wonder Kitty

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Lucy is in my lap, approving  whatever I type. Of course, she can’t read, but if she could, she would add her own comments (most of which would not be fit to print in a family-style blog such as this one). So I’ll take her silence as either approval or extreme sleepiness.

The list commences with #264 (I think).

264) Ice-cold water to quench my thirst on a humid summer day.

265) A long walk alone under a full moon at night (as opposed to all those moonlit walks during the day).

266) That I’m finally at a place where I’m comfortable alone or in a crowd.

267) Planned spontaneity.

268) That I’ve come to the place where if I never see a certain person ever again (and at the moment it appears very likely to be the case), that I will be glad for the friendship; I will miss her, but my life will go on.

269) Those quiet moments of peace where God speaks into my silence.

270) That with God, every day is a day to look forward to.

271) Reading collects out of The Book of Common Prayer and seeing my own prayers expressed better than I could ever put them.

272) That this blog site has spell-check so that I can appear smarter than I really am, i.e. that I can actually spell.

273) That I really don’t have to be friends with everyone or have everyone like me to be content.

274) That everything will be fine in the end, and if it’s not fine, it’s not the end.

275) Good lines from good movies (like the one I just referenced earlier).

276) Chocolate bars with bacon in them (it sounds gross, but tastes divine).

277) All of my quirks

278) That I have to show my driver’s license to prove that I really am the age I say I am.

279) That even though Jon Acuff might have more readers for one blog than I’ve had for all my 1,000+ blogs combined, that I have touched and impacted lives that wouldn’t have been touched and impacted had I chosen not to write a blog.

280) That I can use bad grammar, and bad punctuation, in my blogs, if I so, choose.

281) Those rare times when the Church is known for what it’s for rather than what it’s against.

282) That I can learn something from anybody, no matter what their philosophical, theological, political or social beliefs and regardless of whether or not they have the same worldview as mine.

283) That hamburger from The Pharmacy with bacon, ham, and a fried egg (10,000 calories of deliciousness!)

284) That the last spoken words from Jesus in the Bible aren’t a condemnation but an invitation.

285) When I talk into a box fan and make my voice sound like a robot.

286) That being grown-up doesn’t always mean having to be mature all the time.

287) That the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases.

288) The way my cat Lucy hovers when she goes to the bathroom.

289) Not knowing all the answers (or even all of the questions).

290) A perfectly made and perfectly thrown paper airplane.

291) That I saw the actual Batmobile from the campy 60’s TV show tonight in downtown Franklin

292) That this list will continue– maybe tomorrow, maybe not. You’ll just have to tune in tomorrow to find out. Same bat time, same bat channel.

Things I Love 8: Greg’s Sanity Has Left the Building

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FYI: these blogs will continue until I get to 1,000 things I love. It’s from the book, One Thousand Gifts, so I’m trying to list out– wait for it– 1,000 little things that I believe are God’s gifts to me and daily reminders that stir me to gratitude and thanksgiving as a lifestyle. Plus, I don’t have to worry about what I will be blogging on until at least July of 2014. Just kidding. Sort of.

Ok. Here goes the list, starting at #168. Drum roll, please.

168) Looking through old photo albums and reliving those old memories and remembering people who’ve been gone from my life for a while (and thinking they’re looking down from heaven and smiling at those photos, too).

169) My extremely loud Hawaiian shirt, which one random teenager called “sick.” I guess that’s a compliment. I’m not really sure.

170) Everything related to either Narnia and Wardrobes or Middle Earth and Hobbits.

171) Surprise birthday parties (hint, hint, subtle subliminal suggestion. . . cough).

172) Celebrating Easter and remembering that the Resurrection changed EVERYTHING. Including me.

173) That Jesus would have chosen the nails and the cross and the agony if only for me alone.

174) By Jesus loving me unconditionally and prodigally, he made me loveable.

175) Silent movies.

176) Box hockey (and the fact that I know what box hockey is).

177) All my high school reunions where I see old friends and get to catch up after 10 (or 20) years apart.

178) That I get to be a small part of Kairos, a worship gathering for young adults, every week and I see God at work there every single week.

179) Being content in my relationships and not obsessively wondering where they might or might not be headed,

180) Knowing that if the absolute worst case scenario should happen, I would still be loved by Jesus and God would still work even that out for my good and his glory.

181) How randomly my brain works these days.

182) The vast array of autumn colors from the leaves changing and falling.

183) Doing small random acts of kindness for people when they least expect it.

184) Any positive news stories (because they are sadly the exception and not the rule).

185) That I’m down to 715 more things to be thankful for.

186) Now it’s only 714.

187) That I’m not what everyone else thinks I am or even what I think of myself, but only what Jesus says I am– Chosen, Redeemed, Beloved, Child of God, Forgiven, Free, etc.

188) That Jesus won’t ever stop reminding me of my true identity and sending friends who will help me remember the song in my heart when I forget the words.

189) Lightning bugs at night in an open field.

190) Cheese grits made just right.

191) That I probably have at least 32 more of these blogs a-comin’ your way. But not in a row.

Random Tuesday Thoughts

Someone asked me how I was today and my answer was “Blessed.” Normally, I say, “Fine” or “Okay”, but for some reason I felt compelled to say “Blessed” tonight.

Maybe it’s because I am blessed. I may not have a job and I may be perennially stuck on being single, but I have some great friends and I serve an even greater God who chose me and called me by name and loves me in spite of all the dumb things I do on a daily basis.

I think about Peter and how Jesus called him out to walk on water. Most people fault Peter for giving into fear and sinking, but the fact that Peter took a huge step of faith toward Jesus has to count for something. At least with me.

I’m thinking about something Mike Glenn said at Kairos tonight. He said you know it’s really God calling you when it’s something that you can’t do on your own. Like walking on water. Or going halfway around the world to serve as a missionary. Or just being faithful to Jesus where you are.

This season has been rough for me, but I have found healing and grace like I’ve never known before, both from the people around me and from God. I have seen shackles of fear and doubt fall away and found how awesome it is to walk in freedom, no longer captive to the need to please others.

I have found that the best moments in life aren’t the ones you plan for, but those you never would expect. Like the old song says, “You can’t always get what you want, but you find sometimes you get what you need.”

The more I live the more in awe of God I am. The more I see my desperate need of everything He is. The more I can truly lift my hands in worship. The more I can hold the people and things in my life with open hands and not clenched fists.

The more I know that everything will be fine in the end. If it’s not fine, it’s not the end.

 

A Desparate Prayer

Have you ever been to a party and found out you were being socially awkward? Did you feel like you were trying too hard and forcing conversation and you imagined the other person was like, “Please, just stop talking before you hurt yourself”? Did you think to yourself, “Wow. Did I really just say that? What the heck?” and find that you couldn’t make yourself stop?

Have you ever felt like you were forcing a friendship or other relationship instead of letting God guide it in His own way? Did you feel that even you knew that God’s plan for the relationship was better that you couldn’t stop trying to take control?

Have you ever felt like no matter how you jumped through all the religious hoops, you never could pray enough or evangelize enough or worship loud enough to meet the exacting standards?

Then you probably know what the tax-collector felt when he prayed, “God, be merciful to me, the sinner.”

Note: He didn’t say that he was a sinner, one among many, but the sinner. Not just someone who messes up, but isn’t as bad as others, but the chief of sinners. That’s from the Greek.

Guess what? When you can pray that prayer and mean it, you are truly set free.

You are set free from trying to earn God’s approval, as well as the approval of others. You find that approval is already yours through the finished work of Jesus Christ. You find that you are good enough, because God says you are good enough.

If you’ve ever gone through a season where you can see your own brokenness, then you know that sometimes the only words you can find to pray are “Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy.”

God says that He is close to the cries of the broken-hearted, those who know they don’t have what it takes in and of themselves. His strength is still made complete when we confess that we are weak and not only confess, but boast in that very weakness.

May that be your prayer today. “God, be merciful to me, the sinner.”

And go to fellowshipnashville.org to check out the sermon on which most of this was based. It’s amazing.

Taking Every Thought Captive

“But the voice of truth tells me a different story
The voice of truth says, “Do not be afraid!”
And the voice of truth says, “This is for My glory”
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I would choose to listen and believe the voice of truth” (Casting Crowns)
Lately, I’ve been really convicted about my sin in not taking every thought captive and submitting it to the Lordship of Christ. Here I am committing to doing just that, with you as my witnesses to hold me accountable.

 I am naming these thoughts for what they are so that they will not only be taken captive, but lose their power over me once and for all:

1)     “My friends can make time for everyone else, but they don’t have time for me.” I renounce that as a lie from the father of lies, because I choose to believe the best about my friends and the God we both serve.

2)     “I’ve blown a friendship and my friend will never again want to hang out with me or see me again.” Nothing is ever as bad as my fears make me think and God is not only able to save me, but take care of me and sustain my friendships.

3)     “I am too weird and messed up to expect my friends to stick around.” I may not be normal (and I’ve never claimed to be), but in my God’s eyes I am exactly who He made me to be and He sees the perfection of Jesus in me.

4)     “Maybe if I try hard enough, people will like me more, and the harder I try, the more they will like me.” It’s not about trying harder or pleasing people, but about being the best me possible and pleasing God. If I seek Him and His reign in my life, everything else will be taken care of.

5)      “My  friend used to comment on my posts on facebook and text me more. Then it got less and less and now they never comment or like or text me anything. That must mean they don’t like me anymore.” It just means that maybe that person is going through a period of extreme busyness or a season of dealing with their own issues. Not everything is about me (thank God for that!)

Maybe you are believing different lies, or maybe you’ve believed the same lies I have. Don’t for one more second let these thoughts have dominion over you. Renounce them and name them as lies and rebuke their author in the name and the blood of Jesus.

I choose to listen to and believe the Voice of Truth. Will you?

Sometimes

I really, really hate to admit this after all my talk of how God has healed me in the past. It feels like I’m pulling a fast one on you after I’ve announced to everyone how God has been delivering me from my fears. But here it is.

Sometimes at night when I’m tired, I get overwhelmed for a moment by fears.

I fear that this time I really have said or done the absolute stupid and wrong thing and a particular friend is gone for good. He or she has un-friended me and taped a picture of me to a dartboard for target practice.

I fear that I will always be single because no girl will ever find me attractive or desirable and I will always be left with this unfulfilled longing inside of me.

I fear that I’m really not good at anything and really won’t ever find a career that really makes me come alive to who God created me to be.

I think the difference this time is that I can name these thoughts as lies. It may not completely take away the panic and the pain, but it helps when I see these thoughts for what they are and their true origin from the father of lies.

I know now that most of the time a good night’s sleep will help these fears go away. Sometimes, it’s a glass of warm milk. Sometimes, it’s just practicing deep breathing. Sometimes, it’s saying, “Abba Father” over and over. Sometimes, it’s resting in the eternal Arms of my Abba Father and listening as He sings over me to calm my anxiety.

It’s okay for me to have setbacks and regressions, because they keep me grateful and thankful for the times when I am living out of faith and not fear. And those times are more and more prevalent.

There will always be something to fear. There will always be those moments when you give in to that fear. The question is: Can you name that fear for what it is and claim the promises of Jesus over it? Sometimes, you have to claim them out loud, but even when you don’t have a voice to speak them out, they are still powerful and true and for you.

Perfect love casts out all fear. In my case, perfect Love is casting out all fears, one at a time. I hope you find this to be true for you. Because the freedom is so much more than worth it.

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.