Kites are one of those things that remind me of childhood. I know I probably have flown a few in my time, but I don’t remember any specifics. I guess I must have been a really bad kite-flyer and repressed all those tragic memories.

Kites are interesting. As long as they are tethered by a string, you can fly them anywhere and do just about anything with them. Having a breeze always helps. Kites without strings don’t do anything but fall.

In the same way, if I am tethered to something outside myself, I have freedom and mobility within limits. Left alone and to myself, I will fall every time. Obviously, I am tethered to God, but also to family and friends through accountability and responsibility.

I am also a fan of night lights. Every one knows as a kid that monsters don’t go near night lights. But even as an adult, there is still a comfort in having a night light on. Plus, it prevents that accidental hitting of shins on furniture and pain-induced profanity that accompanies said hitting of shins. I like my night light. It’s a miniature lava lamp that changes colors and keeps me occupied for hours (yes, I am easily pleased).

I am not called to be one of those stadium lights that can illuminate an entire county. I am not called to be a spot light. I am merely called to be a night light and to shine in the little corners I go to and help people to see their way in the dark.  To help them avoid getting tripped up by the daily issues and annoyances and problems of life. I don’t have to light up the whole world, but I can light up my world.

So my goal tomororrow is to fly high and shine bright. And maybe write a #1 country song about kites and night lights. But mostly to just be the best me wherever I am and show Jesus to the people around me. That’s all.

Good night, John Boy.

“So I am going to attract her;
       I will lead her into the desert
       and speak tenderly to her. 
  There I will give her back her vineyards,
       and I will make the Valley of Trouble a door of hope.
    There she will respond as when she was young,
       as when she came out of Egypt.” (Hosea 2:14-15)

I’ve never been like one of those people stranded in the desert. It’s almost a movie cliche that you see someone struggling across the desert, almost dead on their feet, barely putting one foot in front of the other in stearch of water and a way out of the desert. I do know a thing about being in the wilderness.

A wilderness is the place where you have to be stripped of everything else to find out what really matters. Sometimes, you literally lose everything. Sometimes, everything else loses its luster. Those people you counted on suddenly can’t be found. That dream you were sure would see you through has vanished like a mirage.

The desert is where you feel alone and forsaken. It’s where you feel like nothing is ever going to change or get better, that all you’ll ever see wherever you look is more of the same, hot sun and sand. The same job, the same rut.

The desert is also where God speaks tenderly to you. Some of the most precious lessons He will teach you will come from the desert. It’s where He will draw nearest to you, where you will be able to feel His heartbeat as He holds you close.

Don’t despise the gifts from the wilderness. The desert doesn’t last forever, but what you learn from it will. The God who gets you through the arid places will be the God who leads you beside still waters and through the valley of the deepest darkness. He’s the One who leads you to your enemies’ table and, eventually, to His own house where you will dwell forever.

If you’re in the desert, know that God is speaking to you words of comfort and hope and peace. Know that regardless of your location or your scenery, there is always one constant, one True North. God will be faithful to get you through, to walk with you through it, and to bring you out with precious promises you couldn’t have gotten any other way.

Then you will know it was all worth every minute of it.

We are gathered together at this gravesite to celebrate this life of Plan A. We are here to grieve how Plan A has died, how those dreams you had have been dashed, how those hopes have been stolen, how your innocence has been lost. We mourn the plans we thought were so certain, that life we envisioned.

We will never see that plan again. It’s gone. It’s over. That person you were supposed to grow old with is gone, those children you wanted haven’t arrived, that career that you banked on fizzled. That worse case scenario that you thought would be the death of you has happened and you’re still here, feeling numb.

I stand before you hear today to tell you it’s okay to grive. To weep and wail and mourn. To pour out your heart before God and not sanitize your prayers to Him. He already knows what’s in your heart anyway.

It’s time to let that Plan A go. Say your farewells, throw your roses, and walk away. Know that God has a plan B for you out there, and His plan B is way better  than your plan A ever would have been. You may have made all the plans in the world, but God is the one who directs your steps.

Bury your past. Bury that failure that haunts you. That loss that still defines you. That scar that taunts you. Those words you wish you could take back and those actions you can’t ever undo. Dig a hole, toss them into the ground, cover them up and walk away.

No matter how bad the past has been, know that God has redeemed it. Know that He holds your future. Know that Jesus went into the grave and took your past and left it there when He rose and walked out again on Sunday morning. His victory is now yours.

No matter how long it takes, I will learn to let go of what I can’t retract or undo and let God heal all those places I’ve broken and live in His gloriously perfect Plan B. I hope you will, too.

Today is the day I am reminded that freedom is never free. That freedom that I take for granted was bought and paid for with blood. While I go to cookouts and eat too much and watch movies, American soldiers are paying the ultimate sacrifice for me.

The best I can do in return to honor these men and women is to cherish my freedom and to use it not for selfish pursuits, but to one day leave my world a little better when I leave it than when I found it. So, thank you to all those who serve in the Armed Forces in any capacity. Though my thanks fall far short of what you deserve, they are all I have to give.

At the risk of pulling a Jesus juke on you and going all spiritual on you out of nowhere, I do think that today is a day to remember the highest sacrifice made for my freedom. Long before my time, long before there was even an America, a man made the ultimate sacrifice for me and you. A man who happened to be God in human form.

Jesus willingly laid down His life for mine, even though I was an enemy of God, deserving nothing less than God’s full wrath. He paid with His precious blood, all of it, to buy me for God. Not just me. You too. We all have hope and joy and freedom because of Jesus.

Again, the best I can do is live my life as a thank you back to God. All I can do is live in the freedom Jesus won for me and not use it for my own aims and goals, but instead devote my life to making His name and His glory look great.

So, at the end of another Memorial Day, don’t forget to pray for those soldiers defending your freedom. Don’t forget to thank your God who did not think His Son too high a price to pay for you. And live every day as a hymn of thanksgiving back to Him. It may fall far short of what He deserves in return, but it’s all we can do.

I found out yesterday that someone who lived down the street from me when I was growing up in Memphis passed away recently. For some reason, it really shook me up, like taking a blow to the stomach. I guess part of me still believes that people from my childhood can never grow old, get sick, and die. That they will always be around.

Plus, I think death isn’t natural. No matter how old the person is or how sick they’ve been or how they’ve suffered, you’re never prepared to say goodbye. It’s not right. I know all about how sin entered the world and death came and now people have to learn to say goodbye to those they love. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it. I can rest assured that Jesus will come and set all things right and everything we’ve ever lost that was dear to us will be restored.

But I’m thinking of my neighbor. He wasn’t famous and didn’t write best-selling books or anything like that. He was kind and he was a good neighbor. He would do just about anything for anyone when they needed help. And to me, that’s the best kind of legacy to leave. Kindness and hospitality. Fame fades and books end up in estate sales or in dusty bookstores, but kindness and neighborliness live on. We are the ones who pass it on.

I think he’s in heaven and he’s alive and strong and whole and happy.  I also think that he lives on in those who will choose to be kind and be a good neighbor and love their families. I know I want to do and be those things in my own life more now.

Thank you, Billy, for being a good husband, a good father, a good neighbor, and a good man. I will miss you, but I am better because of you. I will try to be a good husband (one day hopefully), a good father (ditto), a good neighbor, and a good man.

The legacy will live on.

Sometimes it’s good to get a good dose of what you already know. Sometimes you and I need reminders of what we’ve already learned. These are some reminders I got tonight at the Love Your Neighbor concert at Fellowship Bible Church.

1) God really is for you. He’s on your side, rooting for you, loving you even when you’re at your worst. He’s that good.

2) God’s main command for you is this: “Do not fear.” No matter what you’re going through, don’t panic. God is with you even when everything in you and around you tells you He’s not. That’s when you have to believe what He says over what you see.

3) The world is going to end one day, and that is good news. How? Because one day everything that’s wrong will be made right and everything broken will be made whole. Including you.

4) God is still near the brokenhearted. God is still with the outcast and rejects. God still has a heart for the poor, the widow, the orphan, and the hurting. And if we love God, we will have the same heart and be near the same people.

5) Matthew 24:36 still trumps any crackpot or false prophet who says they have inside knowledge on the end date. This is one time where if you fail you should not try, try again. You should give up and trust God’s timing. Hint, hint, Mr. Camping.

6) God still speaks and God’s word still is living and active. Both will still be around long after all the detracters and naysayers have gone.

7) God’s Church is not an institutioon, but an organism, a living entity where all the members participate and use their gifts and bless and encourage each other. We have gotten away from that lately, but I think there are still those hungry for true fellowship.

That’s all I got. Nothing new or original. But sometimes the oldies are the goodies and sometimes what I need most is to be reminded of what I already know. Then I need to start living it. May we live these old truths daily and be reminded each day just how good God is.

Sometimes, I have fleeting moments when I think I’ve arrived. I’m at a place where I feel I’ve conquered all my sins and temptations and everything is going great. I do think that I get glimpses of what I will look like when Jesus us done with me, but these moments are usually more along the lines of “look how far I’ve come.” Ever been there?

Have you had a “not yet” moment that immediately follows? You know, where you completely lose your religion (to borrow from and old R.E.M. song) in traffic or get really angry at something insignificant and stupid?

Or maybe you fall to a temptation that hasn’t been a problem for a while?

Or maybe you see some part of your character or your attitude that you hadn’t noticed before and is way less than flattering?

Or maybe you just get detoured into a Plan B when your original plans go awry or fall through?

It’s a kind of “now, but not yet” moment. You’re saved and trusting in Jesus, but you still have quite a bit of the old you hanging around. Somedays, the new you wins; other days, the old you pulls an upset. What do you do and how do you deal with the “not yet” moments?

I’ve learned it’s all about perspective. Yes, you’re not there yet and you’re far from perfect, but you are not who you were either. You may not see it, but God is transforming you and changing you daily in ways that you might not see, but if you get a chance to look at your life from a higher perspective over  a longer period of time, you see it.

Also, you are not those “not yet” moments. You are not the relapses and moral failings and lost tempers. You are what God in Jesus has already declared you to be. Holy, righteous, justified, or “just as  if I’d never sinned.” The real you is all these things. The real you is already as holy and righteous as Jesus. What trips you up is not you, according to Romans 7, but the sin in you.

So yes, it’s tempting to want to give up during a “not yet” moment, or despair of ever getting better. But know those feelings and thoughts are lies and the truth is that Jesus has promised not to quit on you until you’re perfected, a masterpiece that will stand up with any Mona Lisa or Starry Night. You have all of Jesus and He has all of you.

Keep that in mind. And, as Scarlett O’Hara is famous for saying, “Tomorrow is another day!”

When I was younger, I was very afraid of the dark. That was were all the scary things lived. In all my nightmares, I would be in the dark and frightening things would pop out at me.

The dark can still be a scary place for a lot of people. In fact, darkness can be as much of a prison as any four walls or iron bars or locked doors could ever be. Being in darkness means not knowing where you are, feeling alone, feeling lost. For all of us, we were once alienated from God and in spiritual darkness. Some still are. And the dark is a place no one wants to be.

I really like the part in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader where the ship goes into the Dark Island, a place of perpetual darkness where nightmares come true. At one point, it seems that they are hopelessly lost and will never get out. Lucy whispers a prayer to Aslan and gets this response: “Courage, dear heart.”

That’s what I want to hear when I’m lost in a dark place. I want to know that Jesus knows where I am, even when I don’t, and is on His way to find me and rescue me.

That’s why Jesus came, according to Isaiah 61:1-4 and Luke 4:18-21. He came to proclaim liberty to captives and to set prisoners free. He came to eradicate darkness and be the Light of the World so that those lost in darkness could see their way out.

He did that not just so that we could come into the light. He did that so that we could be little lights in a sea of darkness to show others the way out. To show others that in Christ there is nothing left to fear– no bogeyman, no monster, nothing. That is, nothing that Jesus hasn’t already overcome.

John 1 says that Jesus shined in the dark places and those darkness couldn’t overcome the light. As I’ve said before, all the darkness in the world is no match for the light of one solitary candle. The faithfulness of even one person reflecting the light of Jesus can drive out darkness in any place.

This was a good reminder to me in a sermon I heard, that we can be free from the prison of darkness. In the movie Stardust, when asked what stars do, one of the main characters (who was in fact a star fallen to earth), replies, “What do stars do? They shine!”

May we shine every day in all the places we go to show people that in Jesus there is a way out. If you’re in a dark place, I hope you hear Jesus whispering to you, “Courage, dear heart. Help is on the way.”