A Prayer from a Grateful Heart

“We’ll never again say ‘our god’ to something we’ve made or made up. You’re our last hope. Is it not true that in you the orphan finds mercy?” (Hosea 14:3)

God, in You the orphan finds mercy.

In You, the widow finds comfort and Your everlasting arms around them.

In You, the outcast find a Home where they belong.

In You, the broken find healing.

In You, the unloved and unloveable find themselves overwhelmed by a Love that won’t quit or let go.

In You, the failures find clean slates, second chances, and new mercies every morning.

In You, the lost find their way and the blind see and the deaf hear.

In You, salvation has come and His name is Jesus.

I thank You because I was once one of those outcasts whom you now call son.

I was a nobody who You now call Yours.

I was unloved and unloveable but You now call be Beloved.

I was broken beyond repair but You now say I am beautiful.

I once was lost, but now I’m found.

Thank You.

A Prayer on a Good Day

God, I had a good day today. Thank you. I found myself tuning in to Your voice more and in to my fears less.

Even on days like today, I realize that I need You just as much on the good days when everything goes right as on the bad days when it feels like I’m falling apart. I need You every waking moment, especially in those moments when I feel like I’ve got it under control and I can handle everything.

I read that self-discipline doesn’t lead to a continous prayer life nearly as much as realizing that I am poor in Spirit. I have nothing without you. I am helpless without You.

I know without You, my life will turn into a first-class fiasco.

Help me to remember that You are so much bigger than my little world. The truth is that You have invited me to be a part of something that is way bigger than me. Your plan involves people from every part of the world calling on the name of Jesus.

I am absolutely desparate for You. Fill every part of me with every part of You and use me however You will. Show me where You are working and help me to be the hands and feet of Jesus there.

Most of all, show me again how to come to You as a child, holding back nothing but bringing my messes to you. Remind me to come just as I am and not worry so much about cleaning myself up or polishing up my vocabulary or choosing what I think You want to hear.

On the days when I still listen to my fears, remind me that You have already conquered them. Help me to hear Your still small voice whispering my name. Remind me again that I am Your Beloved.

Lord Jesus, have mercy on me, a sinner.

A Letter from Jesus Christ

This was written by a sixteenth-century Catholic monk named John of Landsburg. This spoke volumes to me today when I read it in A Praying Life by Paul E. Miller.

“I know those moods when you sit there utterly alone, eaten up with unhappiness, in a pure state of grief. You don’t move towards me but desperately imagine that everything you have ever done has been utterly lost or forgotten.  This near despair and self-pity are actually a form of pride. What you think was a state of absolute security from which you’ve fallen was really trusting too much in your own strength and ability. Profound depression and perplexity of mind often follow on a loss of hope, when what really ails you is that things simply haven’t happened as you expected or wanted.

“In fact, I don’t want you to rely on your own strength and abilities and plans, but to distrust them and to distrust yourself and to trust me and no one and nothing else. As long as you rely on yourself you are bound to come to grief.  You still have a most important lesson to learn; your own strength will no more help you to stand upright than propping yourself on a broken reed. You must not despair of me. You may hope and trust in me absolutely. My mercy is infinite….”

If I could add anything, it would be that the economy of faith, weakness and dependence are good things. Utter helplessness leads to desparate prayers which God hears. As long as we’re self-sufficient, we will never really and truly pray. Only when we come to the end of ourselves do we reach out.

I’m learning it’s okay to be weak and dependent and helpless because that’s where I find that God is my strength and my source and my ever-present help. And for the record, all of this is from A Praying Life, which you should go buy and read now.

 

The Pretender (Not Just a Great Song by Jackson Browne Anymore)

Ok, I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to be as honest as possible. Here goes. Have you ever felt like you were pulling the wool over everybodys’ eyes, where they thought you had it all together and you really deep down inside felt like you had no control over anything and no clue whatsoever? Raise your hand if you have.

I know it feels dorky to be sitting alone in front of your computer monitor (or laptop) in the dark with your hand raised, but do it anyway. I just did. I felt really good (and a little bit awkward, too).

You are not alone if you feel like you are fooling everyone.

You are not alone if you feel like you’re pretending to be successful when you feel like you’re failing at every possible turn and messing up everything.

You’re not alone if you walk around with a grown-up exterior, but still feel like a scared little 1o-year old, still afraid of the same things and still believing the same lies you believed back then.

You are not alone if you have a fear deep down inside that someone will see though your saintly Christianity and expose all those sordid and angry thoughts you keep hidden inside.

You won’t be alone because I’ve been there, too. That makes two of us. And I would bet money that there’s more (but I’m Baptist, so I don’t believe in betting real money. Betting Monopoly money is OK in my translation of the Bible, though).

God knows. God sees all the fear and the anger. He sees what’s behind the curtain and what’s beneath the mask. He know your mess better than you do. And the real kicker? He loves you more than you could possibly imagine.

I heard someone say that Jesus didn’t come to accuse or condemn you, but to love you and transform you.

That’s good news. That’s worth being real and honest.

Some Things I Love

1) I love downtown Franklin, especially at night and even better when it’s not so stinkin’ humid that you can hardly breathe. I love the history and the ambiance of the place.

2) I love when Sweet CeCe’s has red velvet as one of their frozen yogurt flavors. I forgive Sweet CeCe’s for all those times when my hopes were dashed and I had to settle for cable car chocolate or cake batter.

3) I love anything and everything put out by Hillsong. I especially love the fact that I got to see Hillsong United in concert and hear all these songs live.

4) I love that my cat likes to hang around with me and occasionally sleep on me. I feel privileged.

5) I love discovering anything new that broadens my horizons, like new music or books or movies or friends or places or foods. Anything that stretches me, ’cause when you get stretched, you never can go back to your original shape.

6) I love long weekends and vacation days and those days when you get to sleep in to some ungodly hour.

7) I love all things U2 and Coldplay.

8) I love the fact that God’s mercies are new every morning and that His love is unfailing and that He won’t stop wooing my heart until the day I die. And beyond that day.

9) I love the fact that just about every day a song I hear or something I read or a conversation I have will give me one more facet of the beauty and faithfulness of my God. I will get one more thing to be thankful for.

10) I especially love the fact that everything I see on the news that makes me sick to my stomach and breaks my heart will one day be put right. There will be no more hurt or injustice or pain or loss ever again. He will wipe away every tear from our eyes and we won’t be able to see for being bedazzled by the joy we find then.

11) I love most of all that my Abba is very fond of me and that He is also very fond of you, too!

Thanks, Uncle Mikey (A Tribute of Sorts to Dr. Glenn)

Thank you, Uncle Mikey, for 20 wonderful years as pastor of Brentwood Baptist Church. Thanks for being a faithful steward of God’s Word who loved Jesus and kept it real (to use your own words).

You told me that Kairos was a safe place where I could be myself, whether that meant raising my hands high in worship or sitting silently with arms folded. You told me that confession was a time not to beat myself up, but to be honest with myself to God and to tell Him what He already knew so that I would come to see myself as He does.

You reminded me that God doesn’t just love me, but He likes me, too. You reminded me that God is crazy about me and that nothing could stop Him from winning my heart and redeeming me out of my own mess into someone who is a child of the King.

You made me love God’s Word again. Your love for Scripture made me want to dig in deeper for myself. You always said, “If you don’t live it, you don’t believe it.” That challenged me more than once to take stock in what I really and truly believed as opposed to what I paid lip service to.

You always spoke honestly about your own faults and shortcomings and fears and made it okay for me to be as open and honest about mine. You told me more than once that all God needs is for a small place to start in my life and He can change me. That it’s never ever too late to start over and let God’s love transform me into something beautiful.

I never spoke to you personally much, but you were always kind to me and listened to me. You always made time to invest in the lives of so many others. There are so many whose lives are better because of your faithfulness to Jesus. I am one of them. Thanks for getting me hooked on Henri Nouwen’s books. I will always think of you whenever I read one of his books.

I hope and pray God gives you another 20 years as pastor of Brentwood Baptist. I pray God’s anointing rests on you and that you never stop being amazed at what God is doing inside you and around you.

God’s not done with either you or me and I can’t wait to see what the final result will be. Thanks to someone I feel like I can call my friend and my brother in Christ. Shalom to you.

From one of your many spiritual children,

Greg.

Those Terrible, No-Good, Very Bad Days

Alexander had his terrible, no good, very bad day. So I read as a kid. I can relate. I’ve had my share of terrible, no good, very bad, sucky, wishing it would end days. For a little while, today was one of those days.

Then I remembered something. Faith doesn’t grow in my wonderful awesomely good nothing bad days. Faith matures and gets stronger on those terrible no good very bad days. You find your faith when everything else seems to be going wrong and your day has disaster written all over it.

When the job starts feeling too much like work and not enough like a calling, faith grows. When you struggle with what normally would come easy to you, faith matures. When it seems like one bad thing happens right after another, like tidal wave after tidal wave, your faith is made real.

The faith that says that if you believe, you won’t ever struggle or have problems or suffer isn’t real. Just like a butterfly only gets strong by fighting its way out of a cocoon, so your faith only grows muscles when you’re in the midst of dark, stormy days with the wind blowing and waves crashing and you getting pounded.

I always heard that it’s not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog that matters. I think it’s not about great big faith in God that counts, but faith in a great big God. It’s not how strong your faith is all the time, but how your faith is in the God Whose strength is unwearying and unending.

The best part about some days is that they end. For me, the best part about my work day is that it’s now past tense. It’s over. I never have to go back that Monday ever again. I don’t know if tomorrow will be better, but I know the same God that got me through today will be there tomorrow.

That calls for a celebration, I think!

Faith in the Dark

Today’s sermon was about Jesus calming the storm in Luke 8. The main question that Jesus asked them (and I think He asks us) is “Where is your faith?” Is your faith in yourself, a kind of “I think I can” mentality?Is it a conditional faith in God that says, “I’ll do X if You do Y back? The question the pastor asked was, “When all your props are taken away, who or what do you trust?”

When skies are sunny and the bank account is full and you’re in a season of plenty and blessing, it doesn’t take much faith. You don’t need faith as much for calm seas and cloudless skies. Only when the storm is coming do you see the need for faith. Only in the dark does faith grow.

Faith grows in the middle of bad news from the doctor, hurt and pain from your own family, marriages that end, pink slips from employers, and things like that. When all you have to hold on to is God, you really find out how big and strong He is to save.

The part about that story that I never thought about is that Jesus was with the disciples the whole time. From the first raindrop and gust of wind through the maelstrom to the end, Jesus was there. He was even sleeping though the worst of it.

That tells me that when I am in my stormy seasons of life, I am not alone. It may seem like God is asleep or AWOL, but I know from everything the Bible tells me and everything I’ve seen over the span of my life that God is near. God is with me. He has not left nor will He ever.

The kind of faith you need is not the “I think I can” variety, but the “I know God can” type. The “He is more than able” kind.

Just for the record, I have to give credit to Michael Easley for the inspiration for this blog. Pretty much this is his sermon put in my own words. I guess it’s a good thing this is not a school paper, or I’d have to do a whole mess of footnotes. And double spacing and margins.

I’m so glad I’m not in school anymore.

More Randomness And Late Night Weirdness

Sometimes, I think my cat looks at me when I’m leaving for work and thinks, “In order for you to miss me, you have to go. I really like you and all that, but the sooner you head out the door, the sooner my nap gets started. So bye!”

I had a couple ideas for really good blogs, but I forgot to write them down. I always have these genius ideas when I am no where near a pen or paper, or in my car, or otherwise not in a position to capture these ideas for posterity.

Somedays, the best thing you can say about your day is that you avoided personal injury and homicide. Kinda like that old saying, “Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to hide the bodies of all those I had to kill because they really peeved me off.” Not that I would ever kill anyone or condone killing anyone. I might just wish them a really bad case of  hemmorhoids if they annoyed me enough.

Somedays, it’s good to not go anywhere or do anything special. Somedays, the agenda might involved some old movies and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. Rest is a good thing. Especially if you’ve had one of those long weeks that never seemed to end.

God reminded me again that my life is a good life. He showed me again that what I thought were crises were just bumps in the road. He never gets tired of telling me that no matter what the middle chapters of the book might look like, the ending is already written and it’s a happily ever after. And He should know. It’s His book.

And FYI, the Ben and Jerry’s flavor was cheesecake brownie.

Things That Make Me Happy

I have this key chain piggie that I carry with me sometimes. It doesn’t look quite like the one pictured about, but the effect is the same. You press a small button on piggie’s head and light comes out his snout. Or her snout. It could go either way on this little piggie.

Things like that amuse me. I am easily pleased with little gadgets, especially if they light up. Bonus points if they fit in your pocket and look like little animals. I get joy from the weirdest places sometimes.

Like today at work. It was not going well. I was having a Monday kind of day on a Thursday. I was not having a happy moment. But I prayed and said, “Lord, I give you my frustration and anger and I pray You fill me with Your peace.” Just a simple prayer thrown out in the moment.

Next thing I know, I am at peace. I’m content. I even have joy for no other good reason than God is good. Plus I have my little key chain piggie sitting on my desk as a reminder that I have provision if all the lights in the building suddenly go out. I am prepared.

I’ve learned not to predict or anticipate those little moments of joy. I just know that I get them when I least expect them, when I need them most. When I would usually be stressed or depressed. They are a reminder that God is not just in control of the cosmic universal happenings, but also the tiny insignificant things, like me having a bad day.

Thank you, God for little key chain piggies and for random moments of joy. I’ll take them both, anytime.