Things I Love 24: From a Guy Who’s Running on Caffeine and Hope

island hammock

I had a fantastic conversation with a friend tonight at Starbucks. Even though we’ve never met in person before, we talked like we’d been friends for years. The meds are working. I am still blessed. Which brings us to #656.

656) Laptops that actually fit in your lap (does anyone remember the old portable computers that weighed 50 pounds and had a 2-inch screen?)

657) Conversations that last for hours over coffee drinks.

658) Love that will not let me go.

659) Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

660) Turkey sausage from Cracker Barrel.

661) When someone gets one of my obscure movie references.

662) IMDB for when my usually spot-on memory for names of actors fails me.

663) The little emoticons on Facebook messaging.

664) Free books on Kindle or iBooks.

665) Leaving ridiculous tips, i.e. 50% or higher, whenever I eat out.

666) Not being freaked out by the number 666.

667) Being 2/3 of the way through my list of 1,000 things I love.

668) Bare feet on carpet.

669) People complimenting me on my I Am Second bracelet.

670) Finding that Friends Trivia Game at Music City Thrift for $1.

671) Those people in the Bible who God used who were possibly even crazier and more messed up than me.

672) Gregorian chant music.

673) My organic liquid hand soap that smells like Canadian pine with white sage.

674) Being manly enough to admit that I have organic liquid hand soap that smells like trees.

675) Knowing just enough Spanish to be dangerous (and to order at Taco Bell).

676) Being able to read most of John 1 in my Greek New Testament,

677) Movie soundtracks.

678) Getting packages in the mail.

679) Color correcting old pictures on Adobe Photoshop.

680) Birthday presents.

681) Watching other people open gifts.

682) Christmas presents.

683) Presents in general.

684) Being present in the moment.

685) Leigh Nash’s voice.

686) That guitar sound in the song Luka by Suzanne Vega.

687) That guys aren’t better than girls and girls aren’t better than guys. We’re just different.

688) Being uniquely and wonderfully made.

689) Owning all four seasons of Felicity.

690) A good night’s sleep after a really good day.

Things I Love 23: Who Says You Can’t Go Home?

island hammock

Sometimes, you gotta quit trying to figure situations and people out and just go with it. Just be in the moment and enjoy it without having to analyze it or interpret it. You’ll have the rest of your life to look back on that moment, but only once to live it. Such are my profound thoughts on this rainy 4th of July. I guess we’ll pick up where we left off at #621.

621) The way my cat kneads the pillow and purrs loudly before she curls up and goes to sleep next to me.

622) Rotel dip.

623) Watching the fireworks with my community group in a slight drizzle tonight.

624) When I stop seeking blessings and start being one.

625) God using me in ways I will probably never know about to touch people’s lives and impact the kingdom of God.

626) Quiet windshield wipers.

627) Being a social butterfly.

628) Picking up two pairs of shorts at a thrift store for $5 (thanks to today being 50% off day).

629) Not having to logon and wait for an internet connection before I can type all this.

630) God loving me as fully and completely as if I were the only person to love.

631) My very patriotic red white and blue Converse high tops.

632) God’s patience with me.

633) The $5 flag t-shirts at Old Navy.

634) What someone posted on facebook about how we celebrate America’s independence by drinking alcohol and playing with explosives.

635) The sound of bagpipes.

636) Amazing grace that saved a wretch (and not a wrench as I used to sing it) like me.

637) Laying in the back of my Jeep with the windows rolled down and the tailgate up.

638) Comfy folding chairs.

639) Peppermint mocha frappuccinos from Starbucks.

640) Cilantro on just about anything.

641) That eureka moment after a brain fart where the name you’re trying to remember finally comes to your mind.

642) The MacGregor tartan plaid.

643) Having so many fans, both here and in heaven, cheering me on as I run my race of faith.

644) The way after one plan got cancelled, another was right there to take its place.

645) Being surprised by joy at every turn.

646) Having a musical collection that includes recordings from every decade back to the 1890’s.

647) Those crinkly fries.

648) Not having to prove myself to anyone anymore.

649) The possibility at any time of genuine revival breaking through.

650) The homegoing of one of God’s saints because it it precious in his sight.

651) That God’s plan isn’t determined by how much I understand but is so much bigger than what I can comprehend.

652) Onion rings.

653) The turkey burger from Huey’s.

654) Not weighing 400 pounds after all the favorite foods I’ve listed so far.

655) Soft comfortable sheets to sleep in.

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

island hammock

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.

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.

 

Silence

I saw a silent movie tonight at the Franklin Theatre. Well, mostly silent. If you want an explanation, I recommend you rent or stream a movie called The Artist to find out.

It was a bit strange watching a movie with (almost) no spoken lines in a movie theatre. I think only one other silent movie has been made since Hollywood went to talking pictures back in 127.

Silence can be uncomfortable.

On occassion, I try to be still and silent to better be able to hear God’s voice. It’s harder than it sounds (and I get the irony in that last statement). I last maybe a minute or two until the ADD kicks in and I forgot what I was supposed to be silent and still about.

The culture we live in is addicted to noise. TV, radio, iPod, or excessive talking. It doesn’t matter. We can hardly go one second without noise, even if it’s background noise that we tune out.

But silence is golden. There’s truth to that cliche. The believers of old practised the art of silence. They took vows of silence and took retreats where they didn’t speak the entire time. I think they knew something we didn’t and consequently, many had a deeper, fuller walk with God.

Silence is also one way God speaks to us. Many times we want answers and God gives us silence. We say, “If only I knew that I wasn’t supposed to get married, I could move on with life” or “If only I knew I was supposed to look for a new job . . .”

We think silence is unanswered prayer. Many times, silence is God’s way of preparing us for something that is too big for us to receive right now. It’s like He is saying, “I’m holding out on the good right now so I can give you something great later on.”

Learning to be comfortable with silence is a sign of spiritual maturity. Too many times, silence seems deafening. We have too many voices in our heads screaming at us that we need to drown out with noise.

But when the voice of Jesus speaks, all other voices are stilled. We have true peace, perfect silence.

May you and I learn to be still and know that He is God.

 

Thanksgiving and Gratitude

One thing I need to improve (out of many, many things) is to learn to cultivate a grateful spirit. I am far too often consumed by thoughts of what I don’t have, what I lack, and what I didn’t get.

Lately, I have found myself anything but grateful. I have found seeds of anger and bitterness and impatience welling up in me. I have had fears of what-ifs, such as what if I never get married, what if I never get that dream job, etc.

Tonight, I was invited to a cookout with good friends. I realized then and there just how very blessed I am. I am more blessed than I deserve to know the people I know, and more so that they actually like me back.

I am blessed by good health and a job and family who loves and encourages me and friends who stick around and say nice things about me and live out Christ in a way that challenges and inspires me.

Most of all, I am blessed by the relentless love of a God who continues to passionately pursue my heart and makes me more like Jesus every single day. Even when He allows circumstances I would not have chosen and answers prayers but not in the way I would have answered them, He is still good to me.

Even if I found out tonight that I used up all my allotted blessings and had no more left, I would be good. If I never got one more prayer answered and had all the rest of my dreams evaporate and all my hopes dashed, I’d be okay. Why?

Because I am still Abba’s child and He is still very fond of me. I know that He’s on my side and He fights for me and sings over me in the night.

And that’s enough for me right now.

Lessons From the Not Yet

Maybe you remember back in high school and college when you wondered if that special someone who caught your eye reciprocated your interest. It would have been so much easier to have one of those grade school forms that went something like “Do you like me? Check Yes or No.”

Some of us are still there, in a perpetual state of singleness, wondering if the one we want to like us really does. It’s frustrating not knowing. Even a rejection would be easier to handle than the not knowing.

So many times, we want answers. Even answers we don’t like are better than no answers at all.

I really think that maybe being in a place where we’re waiting for answers is a good place. I think that’s where we learn the most precious and valuable lessons from God. That’s where we learn to really trust and rely on and cling to God.

I’ve heard it said that faith may not always know where it is being led, but it trusts the One leading. You may not know the outcome of what you long for and pray for, but you know that God still works all things together for good for those who love Him.

I think when we only want answers, we short-change ourselves. God is offering the opportunity for us to have all of Him and and to know Him and fellowship with Him. That’s so much better than the answers to a few questions.

Learning to trust in the absence of answers is hard. Learning to be still when every instinct in you is screaming to take the matter into your own hands is difficult.

Growing is painful and slow. Maturity doesn’t come microwave-style in a matter of minutes, but over months and years.

You will know your faith is mature when you realize that you will never get answers to some of your questions and you still choose to follow anyway.

Oswald Chambers once said, “Faith never knows where it is being led, but it loves and knows the One Who is leading.  It is a life of faith, not of intellect and reason, but a life of knowing Who makes us “go.”  The root of faith is the knowledge of a Person, and one of the biggest snares is the idea that God is sure to lead us to success.”

The endgame is not answers to your questions or even getting what you desire. It’s character. It’s becoming like Christ. It’s becoming every single part of who God made you to be– your deepest, truest self.

That, my friends, is worth waiting for.

Word Now Breaking Heaven’s Silence

“Bring your peace into our violence
Bid our hungry souls be filled
Word now breaking Heaven’s silence
Welcome to our world
Welcome to our world” (Chris Rice)

Maybe you’ve experienced silence recently. The kind of silence that is almost deafening and that pervades every part of you.

The silence of a friend who deserted and abandoned you and you’re still wondering why.

The silence of a parent who cut you off and doesn’t want anything more to do with you.

The silence of a prodigal son or daughter who, despite all your pleas and prayers, still won’t come home.

The silence of a spouse who decided you weren’t worth the effort anymore and left you.

The silence of a loved one who left you too soon and you had to say your final goobyes to a marble headstone.

The silence you feel in the middle of the night that keeps you awake with the fear that all that you are and have and do will never be enough and you will never be good enough for anyone, not even yourself. Much less God.

This Advent season, we celebrate the end of Heaven’s silence. For 400 years, God didn’t speak through prophets. For 400 years, the people waited and waited. Some lost hope. Some were barely holding on.

Then on a dark night in a remote village, a sound broke through the silence once and for all. It was the cry of an infant born to an infant virgin teenager in a backwoods village just south of Nowhere.

In that tiny cry, God was speaking to you, saying, “I’m here. I will be your God and you will be my people. I will never ever leave you or forsake you. I have set my affections on you and I will never take them away.”

It is the still small voice that speaks good things about you, that says that you are more than good enough– you are worth dying for. The voice that calls you Beloved. The voice of your Abba Father.

Remember this Christmas, we celebrate more than just a day. We celebrate the one event in history that changed absolutely everything. We celebrate the birth of hope that never dies, of joy that no one can take away, of peace nothing can shake, and of love that never lets you go or leaves you. We celebrate Jesus, the Word breaking Heaven’s silence.

Why I Am a Fan of Henri Nouwen

solitude

“In solitude we can slowly unmask the illusion of our possessiveness and discover in the center of our own self that we are not what we can conquer, but what is given to us. In solitude we can listen to the voice of him who spoke to us before we could speak a word, who healed us before we could make any gesture to help, who set us free long before we could free others, and who loved us long before we could give love to anyone. It is in this solitude that we discover that being is more important than having, and that we are worth more than the result of our efforts. In solitude we discover that our life is not a possession to be defended, but a gift to be shared. It’s there we recognize that the healing words we speak are not just our own, but are given to us; that the love we can express is part of a greater love; and that the new life we bring forth is not a property to cling to, but a gift to be received” (Henri J.M. Nouwen).

Henri Nouwen wrote that every single person ever born deals with aloneness, because every single one of us is unique and no one else will ever have our exact problems and issues and hang-ups and phobias.

He said we can either see our aloneness as a wound and thus turn it into loneliness or view it as a gift, where it becomes solitude. In solitude is where we can learn to be still and quiet and know that in truth, we are never really alone. God is with us.

Solitude makes us better people, better neighbors, better friends, better spouses, better lovers, and better disciples. We’re not clinging to each other out of a desparate need to not be lonely, but because we are finally comfortable with who we are in the times when we are alone with no noise to drown out our own thoughts.

That is my own wording of what I’ve been reading in The Only Necessary Thing, a compilation of Nouwen’s thoughts on living a prayerful life. Seriously, if you don’t read another one of my blogs, but read one of his books, I will be supremely happy. He’s that good.

That’s all for tonight. Let me know what you are reading that touches you deeply at the soul level. Maybe it’s a book that will do the same for me. And may the God of the earthquake and the God of the thunder also be the God of your silence and the God of your solitude. Amen.

Sitting Still

Today I had an epic fail. I was supposed to meet a friend for the 11 am service. I thought I had plenty of time to get one of those white chocolate mochas with a shot of hazelnut (which are fantastically good and you should try one some time). It turns out I did not.

By the time I got my awesome beverege, I was already ten minutes late and not at all in a reverential mood. More like impatient and frantic and stressed and mad at myself. By the time I got to the sanctuary, there was no way I was going to be able to find my friend, so I ended up sitting in the balcony.

But God reminded me of the sermon I had just heard about Mary and Martha. Martha was the one frantically scrambling to get everything just right and Mary was sitting silently at the feet of Jesus in the posture of a disciple. Martha had good intentions, but Mary did the better thing.

I took a moment to steady my thoughts and quiet my heart. I prayed for peace to replace the chaos and I took a few deep breaths. Then I was fine.

We often get so caught up in school, work, play, and doing things for God that we have precious little time for God. But if we want our desire to be more like Jesus to go from wishful thinking to reality, we must make time to sit at His feet and be silent.

I am the worst. When I try to be silent and still, my brain doesn’t want to cooperate. I will conjure up  whole conversations in my head, hear snatches of songs, and think of things I forgot to do or that I still need to do. In other words, my ADD kicks in with a vengeance.

But the more I come to sit at Jesus feet, the more I am learning to capture my anxious thoughts and give them to Him. The more I am learning to let everything else go and listen to the Voice that still says good things about me.

Come to Jesus all you who are at the breaking point of exhausting. Come, be still. He will give you much needed soul-rest even in the midst of a busy day. He will speak peace and healing over you. He will refresh your spirit and renew your mind.

So just come.