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.”

According to one man, the world was supposed to end today at 6 pm. It didn’t. There were no earthquakes or zombie apocalypses (I added that one). Just another day that came and is just about gone. But it got me thinking about heaven.

I like to think I get echos of heaven, hints of what’s to come. My favorite description of heaven is the one in The Last Battle by C. S. Lewis where he says that heaven is like the first day of summer when you realize the school term is over. All the hard work, all the toil has ended, and joy has come.

When I hear someone calling a name I’ve never known before, but somehow know is my new name, it’s like a glimpse of heaven.

When I feel a peace that transcends the reality I’m in, the absolute confidence that no matter how disconnected the pieces of my life seem right now, they will all one day fit together wonderfully and it will all make perfect sense, that’s a taste of heaven.

When I have a longing for a place I’ve never been, I know there’s something more.

When I have desires awakened in me that nothing earthly can satisfy, I know that this is not all there is. This life and this world as it is.

It’s the thrill of just the right song at just the right moment. It’s a good story told well that changes how I see my own story.

The best part of heaven for me is not streets of gold or harps or mansions. The best part is knowing that when Jesus comes back, everything will be as it was always meant to be.

Every broken heart will be mended, every disease healed, every wrong made right, every tear wiped away, every life made new, and every heart filled with a joy that will never end or fade, but will last and only grow stronger with age.

Best of all, Jesus will be there.

That’s what I wait and hope and long for. That’s why I write this blog. That’s why I want everybody to know this Jesus.

Not only for the here-after, but here now, where real, abundant life starts and we get echos of heaven all around us. It’s for those of us with ears to hear and eyes to see.

Jesus will come back on a day that no one has marked on a calendar or figured out in some equation. The key then is to love God and love each other and to always point to Jesus and live as if each day were the day of His return.  To live like each day were your last.

You don’t wake up the morning of the Boston Marathon and decide you want to run the 26.2 miles. You could, but I seriously doubt you’ll be very successful. Unless your idea of success is passing out at the 3 mile marker.

You don’t wake up one morning and get patience from a vending machine or through one of those On Demand channels. Patience, like any other fruit of the spirit, has to be cultivated. You start by planting a seed, watering it, nurturing it, and so on.

If you develop a passion to know God through His word, to learn to be still and hear His voice and heed what you hear, then the seed will grow. If you seek every day to let the Spirit lead, to surrender yourself to whatever God has for you that day, then the tree will grow strong. If you keep seeking God and keep loving Him and His people, even on those days when you don’t feel like it, the fruit will start to show.

Your feelings will tell you lies. What you think will mislead you. You have to keep practicing faithfulness until the feelings come around. You have to pursue these things like a man in the desert would pursue water.

I want good fruit. I want to show a life that’s been changed by Christ. I want to be so filled with His love and His life that people who see me are drawn to Him. That my life would be a written love letter from God to the hurting and hopeless and broken and outcast.

Growing fruit takes time. There are no shortcuts to spiritual maturity. But getting to know the heart of God and having your heart transformed into His are worth whatever it will cost you and the time spent is never wasted.

Socrates was a Greek philosopher whose method was to ask questions to elicit debate and conversation. Plus, he helped Bill and Ted get an A on their history project. . . oh wait, that was in a movie, not real life. My bad. Still, I’m going to try his approach out here because I have a few questions of my own.

1) Why is the 21st century American Church for the most part so far from the first century Church in terms of methodology and practice? Why do we seem to have less power and authority? I know all the authority and power is from God, but why isn’t more of it manifested in our day?

2) Why are believers so hard to distinguish from the world in ways that really matter? I know we have our Christian clothing and culture and media and slang, but why do we live just like the people we’re supposed to love and show a better way?

3) How much of what we do as the Church and as individuals  is based on the Bible and how much of it is from convenience and culture and tradition? Why do we talk about how much we really love Jesus, but so often we don’t really believe what He says or do what He commands?

4) Who will be the next “prophet” who will predict when Jesus comes back and will claim to know the exact time of His return, even though the Bible clearly states that no one knows, not even the Son of Man?

5) Will one of the signs of the apocalypse be when the Cubs finally win the World Series?

6) When will we stop talking about what’s wrong with the world and who’s causing all the problems? When will we look in the mirror and confess that the problem with the world is not out there, but staring back at us, wearing our clothes, and looking remarkably like us? When will we seek the power of God to be the change we so desparately want and need?

I honestly don’t know the answers. I know these are questions I’ve asked myself a lot lately. I hope these questions will cause you to examine your own heart and maybe stir you out of the same comfortable rut that I’ve been in. I want to be the hands and feet of Jesus and to have His power flow through me to the hurting ones who need it so badly. I know you do, too.

I grew up afraid of monsters. Under the bed, in the closet, waiting to get me. Name any scary movie you’ve ever seen and you have an idea of what my monsters looked like. I later learned there was nothing to be afraid of, because monsters don’t exist.

I say now that they do. And what makes them scarier is that they look just like you and me.

To me, a monster is someone who would sell a child to do sexual acts with men. A monster is any man who would pay to have sex with a child. A monster is anyone who would fly a plane into a building. A monster is anyone who profits off the explotaition of others.

But the scariest part of all is that there’s a little bit of monster in each of us. In me and in you. Whenever we look in the mirror, if we’re brutally honest, we may not like all of what we see staring back. Like anger that tends toward rage. Lust and desire than can turn depraved at any moment. Greed that is insatiable and envy that knows no bounds.

The idea of sin and the depravity of humanity is that we are all capable of the worst sorts of thoughts and actions. Only grace keeps any of us from being another Ted Bundy or Charles Manson. Before I can condemn anyone, I have to ask myself what I would have done given the same background and similar circumstances. I don’t always like the answers I get back.

The beautiful part is that Jesus died for monsters. He died for the monster inside me and inside you. His love says there is no one too far gone, who has crossed the line and can’t be redeemed. Even Ted Bundy. His blood covers every kind of sin and His grace is deep and wide enough to cover anything.

Jesus loves monsters. Don’t get me wrong. There are consequences to our actions. Ted Bundy still had to pay for his crimes. But Grace says that you are not too ugly or depraved or scarred for the love of Jesus to reach in and capture and transform and turn into something beautiful. Anyone who repents of their sin and says a resounding YES to Jesus gets Jesus and Heaven and eternal life, at any point in their life.

So there are still monsters to be afraid of. But we know that perfect Love casts out fears. And monsters, too.

I am a fan of art. I’m not always good at being able to distiguish between what’s “good” and what’s not, but I know what I like. I particularly like Van Gogh and Monet and the one painting, Sunday Afternoon on the Island of Grand Jatte, by Georges Saurat. Love is a kind of art.

I think of human love, our love for God and for each other, as the kind of art I used to make when I was 5. Basically, it was  me taking a bunch of crayons and scribbling all over a peace of construction paper. I had no purpose or intent other than to fill the paper with crayon colors. No matter what I created, or how good or bad it was, my mom took it and put it on the fridge as a prized work of art.

I’m sure God looks at our messy love for Him and for each other and smiles. It is an imperfect love, filled with all sorts of selfishness and ulterior motives and expectations. It’s a love of “What can you do for me?” and “How can you meet my needs?” God smiles, but He also is at work purifying us and our love until it becomes something like His.

God’s love for us is like a Monet or a da Vinci. It’s a masterpiece that causes your jaw to drop when you see it and takes your breath away. It’s something that every time you look at it, you see something you didn’t see before, something new. It brings tears to your eyes and joy to your soul.

What I want ultimately is not for my love to get better, but for God’s love to take over. I want God’s perfect masterpiece love to fill me up. I want God to love others through me with that kind of love I couldn’t even come close to on my own. That means there’s a lot of stuff inside me that has to go. A lot inside me that has to die.

It’s amazing to me to think that God can love the world and yet love me and you like we were the only ones. I am silenced when I think of what that love cost Him in tears, sweat, blood, and His life. And how willingly and freely He sacrificed to show me that love.

That’s real love. More than any of the top ten romantic movies or stories or songs or poems. This one– God’s own love for us– tops all the rest by far. That’s the kind of love I want. That’s what I need. That’s my food and drink, my oxygen, my everything.

Thank You, God, for that Love that won’t let go or give up or quit until the beloved is just like the Lover.

I don’t know a lot and I’m confused about a lot. There’s a lot that I used to think I knew for certain that I’m not certain about. But I do know this.

I was blind, but now I see.

I may not be able to prove the existence of God or demonstrate scientifically the validity of the resurrection, but I can say this for certain.

I was blind, but now I see.

If I could summarize my faith in one statement, it would be the same as the man born blind whom Jesus healed. When the religious leaders asked what happened to him, he said this:

“All I know is that I was blind, but now I see.”

Thank You, Jesus. You’re more than enough for me. I can see that now.