prayer

Letting The Door Close for Good

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I have a picture on my iPhone. It’s me with a friend at Centennial Park, under a picture-perfect summer night sky. I have my arm around her and we’re both smiling. We have just been swing dancing and having a grand time. We look like such good friends.

I had that picture. Up until tonight. I deleted it. I let that proverbial door close. You know. The one almost closed but barely held open by one of those rubbery door stop thingys? The one that once it’s closed you can never re-open?

It’s now closed. I believe her chapter in my life is over. I prayed my goodbyes and grieved over the friendship’s end. My next steps are moving on.

It’s not like she’s a bad person or even that the friendship was wrong. But I think sometimes you have to let go of something that was good– or even very good– in the past to be able to receive God’s future best.

Sometimes you have to say goodbye to your dream in order that God can dream a bigger and better dream in and for you.

So I’m letting a few things — and a few people– go. I hold no bitterness and no more regrets. I cherish the memories but realize that I must move on as they have already moved on.

I can’t wait to see what God has in store for me in the coming weeks and months, but I know it will be good. I love the imagery in this quote from a book I’m currently reading:

““So here’s my thought: Your best thought on your best day falls 15.5 billion light-years short of how great and how good God really is. Even the most brilliant among us underestimate God by 15.5 billion light-years. God is able to do 15.5 billion light-years beyond what you can ask or imagine” (Mark Batterson, The Circle Maker).

The Winning Side

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“So what should we say about all of this? If God is on our side, then tell me: whom should we fear? If He did not spare His own Son, but handed Him over on our account, then don’t you think that He will graciously give us all things with Him? Can anyone be so bold as to level a charge against God’s chosen? Especially since God’s “not guilty” verdict is already declared. Who has the authority to condemn? Jesus the Anointed who died, but more importantly, conquered death when He was raised to sit at the right hand of God where He pleads on our behalf. So who can separate us? What can come between us and the love of God’s Anointed? Can troubles, hardships, persecution, hunger, poverty, danger, or even death? The answer is, absolutely nothing. As the psalm says, On Your behalf, our lives are endangered constantly; we are like sheep awaiting slaughter. But no matter what comes, we will always taste victory through Him who loved us. For I have every confidence that nothing—not death, life, heavenly messengers, dark spirits, the present, the future, spiritual powers, height, depth, nor any created thing—can come between us and the love of God revealed in the Anointed, Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:31-39, The Voice)

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I love how Pastor Mike described salvation this morning. He said it was like when you played at recess. The team captain, who also happened to be the best player, picked you. Suddenly, you went from a nobody to being on the winning team, because this guy’s (or gal’s) teams always won.

Jesus picked you. Don’t ever miss that. He intentionally chose you because He wanted you on His team, not because you were the only one left and somebody had to take you.

Jesus set His heart on you from day one. Actually, before then. He chose you before you were born, before your parents were born, before any of creation. He saw you at your darkest moment and said, “This one’s mine.”

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If He loved you like that at your very worst, what makes you think He won’t love you just as much or more now? If God is for you, does it really matter who or what comes up against you? Can anything ever really for a moment come between you and Jesus’s love for you?

One word: nope.

Nothing gets in the way of Jesus loving you. Not your past, not your bad habits, not your fears, not your failures, not your abandonment, not your anxiety, and not even you.

A movie or sporting event becomes way less stressful once you know the outcome. If you know in advance your team won, then you don’t get overly worked up when your team fumbles or misses a shot or strikes out. You can handle the main character in a movie getting in trouble if you know he ends up alright in the end.

Have you read the last page of the Bible? Guess what? Your side wins. Overwhelming victory is yours through Christ. You don’t fight for victory but FROM it. That’s a huge relief (at least for me it is).

That’s some very good news.

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Sometimes You Feel Like Fred Astaire, Sometimes You Don’t

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / 1 Comment

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I went swing dancing at Otter Creek Church again. It’s normally one of the highlights of my week. But this time I just wasn’t feeling it.

I can’t explain it any better. Except maybe to say that even the most social of social butterflies occasionally feels like a caterpillar and needs some alone time. Or in my case, alone with the crazy cat time.

Not every day will be your best day ever. Some days will suck. Some days will be stellar. Some will just be kinda meh, neither horrible nor awesome. Just average.

But the truth is that you can still find joy in every day. You can choose joy in every moment and learn to see blessings and God’s gifts everywhere.

Even when your bank account has one of those distressing minus signs in front of the amount, you can live in joy.

Even when you feel unattractive and undesirable to anyone, you can choose joy.

Even when your dreams seem as far away as that full moon in the sky, you can count blessings instead of sheep.

Even if you don’t have a 13-year old feline therapist who has reasonable rates and very flexible office hours, you can find God’s gifts yo you everywhere if you can see with the right kind of eyes.

Me being able to write these blogs every day is a blessing to me. Me having an iPad to write them on is a blessing. Me waking up and experiencing a perfect Autumn day is a blessing.

I have joy because I see how much I am blessed. Even if I never get married or go on another date, if no girl ever finds me desirable in any way, I can say I’ve been way more blessed than I deserve.

My life is good because God is good and my life is now His. Every day I am living my miracle because Eucharisteo (giving thanks in everything with joy) always precedes the miracle.

My miracle is family who love me, friends who stick with me, cool fall breezes that caress me, pumpkin spice lattes that warm my heart. My miracle is life. Being alive to everything God is and has for me.

I love being me, but I love way more becoming who God is transforming me into– the character and image of Jesus.

I love that!image

Has It Really Been 22 Years?

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / 2 Comments

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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.

Blog #1,161

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / Leave a comment

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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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Update on Showing Up

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I showed up this morning at 5:05 am. I read my daily portion of Scripture, which today was from Isaiah, Sirach (or Ben Sira), and Hebrews. And in case you’re wondering what Sirach is–it’s one of the apocryphal (or deuterocanonical) books found in some Catholic Bibles.

I tried to not pray a script. I just sat there and was still and silent. I fell asleep. I guess getting that comfortable and that still that early in the morning puts me to sleep. So I’m not as super-spiritual as you may have thought I was.

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I ran across this from Isaiah 56:

“And foreigners who join themselves to the Lord, to minister to him, To love the name of the Lord, to become his servants— All who keep the sabbath without profaning it and hold fast to my covenant, Them I will bring to my holy mountain and make them joyful in my house of prayer; Their burnt offerings and their sacrifices will be acceptable on my altar, For my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples. (Isaiah 56:6, 7 NABRE)”

That’s me. A foreigner. A Gentile.

The last part of the verse is what Jesus quoted when he drove out the moneychangers, people who took advantage of people coming to offer sacrifices in the temple. He got so mad be because these sellers were putting up artificial barriers between people and God and keeping them from worshipping.

I noticed that Jesus never called it a House of Preaching or a House of Worship. It’s a House of Prayer. So why do we do so little praying there? Why is prayer always a preliminary to other activities instead of the main thing?

I don’t pray because I don’t think I need to. I forget that prayer isn’t primarily relaying information to God. It’s not about informing God about something He was previously unaware of. Prayer is about me seeing through God’s eyes. Prayer is about me acknowledging deep down that I desperately need God at every moment if I’m to have a chance of survival.

I can’t pray and stay the same. I can’t pray and stay where I am. I can’t pray and not have my heart line up a little more with God’s heart, see more with His eyes, and be a little more like Jesus.

I’m setting my alarm for 5:00 am tomorrow. I’m hoping that if I keep showing up, I will start to see God showing up in my life more.

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Making Mondays Good Again

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At first, it may have seemed like a typical Monday. First, I locked my keys in my car at Starbucks. I knew the moment my hand went to shut the door that I had messed up. Sure enough, there were my keys, still in the ignition.

Then, after my trusty sidekick and savior of the day a.k.a. Mom brought my spare keys, I went to start the car. Nothing. Other than a very annoying clicking sound. I was beginning to get annoyed myself.

I had AAA, so I got them to send a wrecker who was able to jump start my car and get me running. I ended up needing a new battery.

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Sounds like I should write off this Monday as yet another in a long line of bad days. Right? As Lee Corso says, “Not so fast, my friend.”

I woke up this morning, a privilege many didn’t get. I breathed in and out fresh air out of my lungs, felt my heart pumping life through my limbs, and got to experience the gift of another day of living.

There’s still not a moment where I’m not sustained and held together by the grace of God. There’s never a second where I’m out of God’s sight or not in His heart.

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I know I have so many people rooting for me on both sides of Heaven. I know I have saints lifting up holy hands in intercession for me. I know Jesus never ceases praying for me and His Holy Spirit never stops translating my sighs and groans into petitions and praises.

I’m good. I’m more than good. I’m blessed.

If God never did one more thing for me, if He showed me my empty box of blessings because I had used them all up, I would be good. I would still have enough reasons to give thanks and be grateful for the rest of my life.

Eternity will be too short for me to express my thankfulness to God for who He’s been to me and how He’s proved Himself faithful over and over. I’ll never get tired of finding new ways to say “Thank you!” to the King of the Universe who is also my Abba Father.

I’d say that makes even Mondays blessed.

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Saturday Night’s Alright for Slacking

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I did nothing tonight. Hard as it is to believe, I spent this Saturday evening in front of the idiot box with a very sleepy cat/therapist named Lucy. This jetsetter, this man about town, actually had a quiet night.

And the world didn’t come to a screeching halt.

Do you ever wonder that people forget about you the moment you leave the room? That when it comes to priorities, you’re not high up on anybody’s list? That ultimately you don’t truly matter to anyone?

Sure, I’ve felt that way some nights. But I know this.

There is never a moment that goes by where I’m not in God’s sight, on His mind, and engraved on His hands and on His heart. He loves me completely, unconditionally, unwaveringly, every second of every day of eternity.

God loves you the same way. God loves each person as if they were the only person who had ever lived and could receive the fullness of Love itself.

That kind of love meets you where you are but does not leave you that way. It can’t help but transform the beloved into the image of the Lover. You become most like what you love most. Always.

I can’t say that staying home was my first choice. Or even on my list of top twenty choices.

But here I am, thankful even on a slow Saturday night that I have everything I need in the world right here. Finding the joy on nights like this really does transform how you see the rest of your life. Giving thanks for the small things makes room to receive the greater things.

I think I’ll sign off in a bit here and go do some actual reading of an actual book, with actual pages that turn and everything. How novel.

May you know in full (or as fully as a finite human can comprehend the infinite) how much your Abba really does love you at every moment, whether you feel it or not.

That’s all for now.

Grace Notes on a Thursday Night

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As I type these words, I have one extremely sleepy therapist curled up in my lap. I can feel my blood pressure dropping and my stress melting away. It’s almost like I’m living inside a Norman Rockwell painting.

I visited my favorite place on earth again. Downtown Franklin for me is almost like leaving Middle Tennessee and entering Middle Earth. If Middle Earth had amazing frozen yogurt and talking crosswalks.

I saw two of my favorite friends down there and ate at McCreary’s Irish Pub yet again. I felt like a senior adult eating at 4:30 pm, but I didn’t have to wait and I was able to sit outside and people-watch while I ate.

I really think the way to slow down your life is to be intentionally thankful for each moment, grateful for each frame of your fleeting life, and to seek joy where you are. Once you start looking for them, you’ll be amazed at how plentiful the blessings are. How numerous the little joys are that quietly intrude on your day.

Sometimes, you have to put down the iPhone and the iPad and the MacBookPro and live in the moment. Actually be present in your life to the people and places around you.

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I find that my gratitude increases my awareness of grace and my need for it and my capacity to both receive and give it. Everything I have and everything I am that’s worth anything at all is grace, including possessions, people, health, education, and (as hard as it is for me to admit) even the faith to believe in the promises of Jesus.

I say take time to bless those people behind the counter. I went back into Sweet CeCe’s after I finished my divine Southern Sweet Velvet yogurt and told the girl working there that they always did such a great job and made me feel welcome every time I went in there. I’m sure plenty of people probably complained or took out their frustrations on her, so I felt she needed at least one positive and encouraging word that day.

Even if it’s only a smile, you can change a person’s world. And as I’ve said before, to change one person’s world is to change the world.

Gee, I do so love grace.

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