Just a Friendly Reminder or Two (or Three)

I was thinking on the way home from a good night out. It was one of those perfect nights that come in the twilight of summer and a good breeze was blowing. I had 10,000 Maniacs spinning in my CD player. It was a good moment. Based on that, I have some friendly reminders for those out there who may or may not need them.

1) Don’t ever take your family or friends for granted. I can’t emphasize that enough. I heard once that when you take something or someone for granted, what you’re granted gets taken. I am learning to not assume that the people in my life will always be there, but to make the most of the time I am given with each and every person in my life.

2) Don’t assume that others know how you feel about them. Tell them. Tell them every chance you can, even if it seems like overkill. It’s better that you know too much that I care for you than you never know it at all. Who knows? They might need the reminder at the particular moment you say those words.

3) Don’t be afraid to break out of the mold and try new things. Try new foods. Hang out with different people. Break away from the oh-so-popular crowds and spend time with those who are on the outskirts of the crowd or sitting alone. I truly believe that’s where you find Jesus.

4) God never gets tired of your gratitude, so thank Him for every thing. Even if it’s for waking up this morning or for drawing the next breath.    You can never be too grateful or thankful. A thankful spirit opens your eyes to see God in a new and fresh way and enables you to see His blessings where you never saw them before.

That’s all for now. I would be amiss if I didn’t tell you once again that I am supremely grateful for every single person reading this little blog. I’m thankful for my family and for every single friend who has stuck with me all this time. You matter to me and you matter to God.

Thank you.

In the End

I am still baffled at how much Christianity in general has become and “our side vs. their side” religion. It’s obvious that everything that’s wrong with the world is “their” fault, with “them” being any group who believes differently than us or who maybe falls into a sin category that we don’t struggle with.

I’m not sure when the end will come or what it will look like. I like to think that I am a pan-millennium person– that it will all pan out in the end. I do know this.

In the end, it won’t matter that we proved our point or showed the other side how very wrong they were. It won’t matter that we had the best arguments and the most clever billboards and bumper stickers around.

It won’t matter that we got “our” people into political office so that we could get “our” agenda and laws put in place and keep “them” from being able to destroy all life as we know it.

It will matter how much we loved people. It will especially matter how much we loved those whom we disagreed with, who sided against us, who ridiculed our beliefs, and who mocked our faith.

It will matter that instead of seeking power, we took the form of servants as our Lord Jesus did, and laid down our lives for others. It will matter that we went to the least of these.

It will matter that we gave food to the hungry, gave a drink to the thirsty, clothed the naked, visited the sick and those in prison, and stood up for the outcast and downtrodden. It will matter because what we did for them we did for Jesus. Jesus Himself said so.

In the end, it’s not about taking back a country, but advancing a Kingdom and making way for a King who will make all things right again and turn this world right-side up again.

 

A Borrowed Blog (and a Very Good Reminder)

This was printed in a church bulletin and later posted in a blog by Jon Acuff called Stuff Christians Like, which is probably my favorite blog out there:

We extend a special welcome to those who are single, married, divorced, gay, filthy rich, dirt poor, yo no habla Ingles. We extend a special welcome to those who are crying new-borns, skinny as a rail or could afford to lose a few pounds.

We welcome you if you can sing like Andrea Bocelli or like our pastor who can’t carry a note in a bucket. You’re welcome here if you’re “just browsing,” just woke up or just got out of jail. We don’t care if you’re more Catholic than the Pope, or haven’t been in church since little Joey’s Baptism.

We extend a special welcome to those who are over 60 but not grown up yet, and to teenagers who are growing up too fast. We welcome soccer moms, NASCAR dads, starving artists, tree-huggers, latte-sippers, vegetarians, junk-food eaters. We welcome those who are in recovery or still addicted. We welcome you if you’re having problems or you’re down in the dumps or if you don’t like “organized religion,” we’ve been there too.

If you blew all your offering money at the dog track, you’re welcome here. We offer a special welcome to those who think the earth is flat, work too hard, don’t work, can’t spell, or because grandma is in town and wanted to go to church.

We welcome those who are inked, pierced or both. We offer a special welcome to those who could use a prayer right now, had religion shoved down your throat as a kid or got lost in traffic and wound up here by mistake. We welcome tourists, seekers and doubters, bleeding hearts … and you!”

Here is the original blog.

http://www.jonacuff.com/stuffchristianslike/2012/07/how-to-welcome-people-to-your-church/

May we remember that no one is beyond saving or out of the reach of the love of Christ.

Lord, I Believe; Help My Unbelief

First of all, you should go to Kairos on Tuesday night if you’ve never been. It’s at 7 pm and it’s in the Connection Center of Brentwood Baptist Church off I-65 exit  71 in Brentwood, TN and it’s awesome. Now that I’ve got my shameless plug out of the way, here’s my takeaway from tonight’s service.

While the scribes and disciples were arguing about who was right and who was wrong, a man was pleading with Jesus to heal his son from a demonic possession. He ended his plea with the words, “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.”

How many times have I felt that way? How many times has it seemed that my faith was so small that it barely qualified as belief at all? That I was holding on to a minuscule-sized hope?

I’ve heard that faith always comes with an element of doubt, because if I was 100% certain of something, I wouldn’t need faith. I think that’s true. If I needed perfect faith to get my prayers answered, I might as well stop praying because my faith is always tempered with doubts and fears.

Many times, I need to pray, “Lord, I believe. In whatever way You choose, whether it’s the way I want, show up and have Your way.”

I heard a song tonight that basically said, “Lord, help me to believe what I already know.” Sometimes, I don’t need more knowledge about God or about my circumstances. I need the ability to believe what I already know to be true about God. I need to believe what God has already shown me countless times before.

It doesn’t take great faith in God for change to happen; it just takes faith in a great God. Even if that faith is a minuscule-sized, mustard-seed faith that barely registers a blip on the scale of belief.

Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.

Not We, But I

I was listening to a conversation today about how “we need to do this” or “the Church needs to do that.” That’s all well and good, I suppose. But it got me thinking. Maybe I need to stop saying “we,” and start saying “I.”

If I’m asking the church to do something that I’m not doing and I’m not willing to do, what good is that? If I want the church to go evangelize and serve the poor, I should be the one going and serving and evangelizing. If I want the church to be more welcoming and loving to strangers, then I should be the first one to go up to someone I don’t know and make him or her feel at home.

It’s easy to hide behind the “we.” It’s easy to say what everyone else should be doing, but quite another thing for me to take my own advice and practice what I preach.

I know I’ve said the church needs to be better at showing grace to people while I’m harboring judgmental thoughts about people. If the church is to transform, I have to be one of the ones willing to change.

I can’t speak for other people. I can’t control how other people respond (or don’t respond). I can only live out my own faith, not someone else’s. I can only be a friend and supporter and do my part, regardless of whether the other person appreciates what I do or totally ignores it.

If I look at what’s wrong with the world, instead of pointing fingers and assigning blame, I only need to look in the mirror.

I love the story about G. K. Chesterton. A leading newspaper queried the leading men of the day and asked them for essays on what was wrong with the world. Chesterton’s response was the shortest and (I think) most astute. He replied, “Dear sirs, I am.”

I have been silent when I should have spoken out and spoken out when I should have been silent. I have done a poor job representing the Christ I love at times. I have to own that. But I also know that if the world is put right again, I have to be the one who will stand up and step out. I can’t expect others to do what I’m not willing to do.

May you and I stop going to church and talking about the church and start being the church today.

Captivated

I’ve been thinking about a sermon I heard today. Not the whole thing or even the main point. Just a side comment that the guest speaker made.

He said that we won’t ever be captivated by a list of things to avoid. A list of sins and bad behavior to not do. We won’t ever be captivated by a desire to escape hell, if that’s all there is to our beliefs.

What we need– what I need in my own life and what I need to see in the lives of others– are people captivated by Christ. People who are so enthralled by the hope of the Gospel that no price is too high to pay so that people really know how much God loves them.

I think people are tired of professing believers whose devotion and faith are lukewarm and halfhearted and to whom Jesus is one of many priorities and not a supreme passion in their lives. People are sick and tired of those who talk like devout believers but live like atheists. Those who profess Christ with their lips but deny Him with their lifestyle (to borrow a quote from Brennan Manning).

I am drawn to people who are passionate. People who love what they do. I think people are naturally drawn to those who have come alive, and people will be drawn to a faith that has captured and captivated the hearts of men and women.

If what I believe doesn’t enthrall and excite me, how can I expect it to enthrall and excite anybody else. Until my whole heart is set on fire for the beauty and glory of Christ, I won’t ever really go out of my way to tell others how wonderful He really is.

That’s my prayer for you and me: hearts that have been captivated by this love of Christ that passionately and relentlessly pursues our hearts every single day. That we are wide-eyed and in awe of the grace of God that stays with us after all the mistakes and screw-ups and failures.

Telling Stories

I just finished watching The Descendants, a film I really liked. It got me thinking about why I love movies. It isn’t because they advance some social or even religious cause. It isn’t because they push boundaries and stir up controversy. It isn’t because of some elaborate CGI-driven special effects.

I love a good movie because at its heart it is all about a good story well told.

To me, a good story is one that I find my story in. I can relate to the characters and what they’re going through. Sometimes, I may wish my life were like that. Sometimes, I find myself empathizing with them because I’ve gone through similar circumstances.

There was no one better at telling stories than Jesus during His earthly ministry. He told stories, or parables, that each revealed a truth about God. The people who heard these stories could relate to them, because they could find their stories in them.

We are called to be witnesses for Christ. That doesn’t mean we argue for the validity of the faith or why Christianity is better than all the other religions out there. We don’t try to prove the Bible or creation or God. We simply tell our stories.

Not to say that these things aren’t important. We can defend the Bible and creation and God (although the last time I checked, He didn’t need our help defending Himself). But no one can argue with you about what God has done in your life and how you are different than you used to be. No one can refute a transformation or a new creation.

This blog is one way I choose to tell my story. Like yours, my story is a work-in-progress, an epic novel with the ending still unwritten. I happen to know the Author of the story and I’m convinced the ending is one you won’t want to miss.

The same goes for your story, too, if you let God write it.

 

I Don’t Know a Lot

I will be the first to confess that there is a whole lot out there that I don’t know. Particularly when it comes to mathematics or statistics or anything having to do with numbers. I escaped Algebra my freshman year at Union University and haven’t looked back since.

Some days, I feel like I know less than I used to. That is, there are a lot more things I am a lot less certain about than I was ten years ago. Or even five.

I do know a few things with an increasing certainty.

1) My God loves me with a love that is radical almost to the point of being embarrassing. It is a love that is prodigal and liberal and generous and unending.

2) That I am as much in need of grace as I ever was. I truly believe that I love grace as much as I see my need of it. Those who think they are fine without it don’t really put much stock into it, but those who know they are lost without it embrace it with every fiber of their beings. I am one of those in the second category.

3) What will convince a lost world of the genuineness of our faith isn’t how well we can defend and prove what we believe or how adamantly we can argue our side or even the impressive number of good works we can muster. It’s about how much we love each other. That was turned the 1st century world upside down and that’s what will turn our world right-side up again.

4) I know for 100% certain that God is good and His plans for me are good. Period. What I think and feel may tell me differently. What my eyes and ears tell me may speak a different story. But I know in the deepest core of my heart and mind that while my feelings and thoughts and eyes and ears may deceive me and lie to me, God never ever will.

I think that’s all I need to know.

Takeaways from Kairos Roots and 2 Thessalonians 1

Tonight at Kairos Roots, Aaron Bryant spoke from 2 Thessalonians 1 about suffering and persecution in the church at Thessalonica. Interestingly, Paul doesn’t advise them to pray for an end to it, but that it would be a platform through which people can see their patient endurance and love for each other and be drawn to the God they serve.

I am not a fan of suffering. I don’t really like pain all that much. Missing my Sunday nap is about as painful as I like to get.

But I also know that Romans 5:3 speaks of suffering building endurance, which leads to character, which in turn leads to hope. And hope does not disappoint. If I want character that makes an impression and hope that doesn’t fade or fail, I will have to suffer and undergo persecution.

I don’t have to run around yelling, “Hey! Here I am! Please persecute me and cause me intense suffering!” They make pills for that sort of thing. And suffering and persecution will happen if I am faithful to what God has called me to be and do. It’s inevitable.

When people berate and belittle your faith and speak words of hate at you, they expect hate in return. What gets their attention is when you respond with the love of Christ. That kind of love doesn’t come from a life of ease and comfort; it is born and grows in hardship and adversity, through trials where it is strengthened and challenged.

As much as I want all my stop lights to be green and everyone to be nice to me and always agree with me on everything, life doesn’t work that way. That’s not how God operates. He doesn’t want me happy nearly as much as He wants me holy.

I think that Americans can expect to see more persecution in the months and years to come. I think that we who are not ashamed of our faith and hold unswervingly to our convictions and values will face ridicule and being ostracized. Maybe even one day in the future, our beliefs will land us in jail or even lead to martyrdom.

All I know is that right now, I am called to be faithful where I am, no matter if the people around me like it or not. I am not called to please everybody, but only one. Only what God thinks of me matters.

 

My Favorite Psalm (As Of August 8, 2012)

Note: I don’t always recommend The Message because it gets a little too loose with the translation sometimes. But in this case, it got it right (I think). I probably read this Psalm straight through at least three times. This is almost like reading my own diary.

“I give you all the credit, God— you got me out of that mess,

you didn’t let my foes gloat.

God, my God, I yelled for help

and you put me together.

God, you pulled me out of the grave,

gave me another chance at life

when I was down-and-out.

All you saints! Sing your hearts out to God!

Thank him to his face!

He gets angry once in a while, but across

a lifetime there is only love.

The nights of crying your eyes out

give way to days of laughter.

When things were going great

I crowed, “I’ve got it made.

I’m God’s favorite.

He made me king of the mountain.”

Then you looked the other way

and I fell to pieces.

I called out to you, God;

I laid my case before you:

“Can you sell me for a profit when I’m dead?

auction me off at a cemetery yard sale?

When I’m ‘dust to dust’ my songs

and stories of you won’t sell.

So listen! and be kind!

Help me out of this!”

You did it: you changed wild lament

into whirling dance;

You ripped off my black mourning band

and decked me with wildflowers.

I’m about to burst with song;

I can’t keep quiet about you.

God, my God,

I can’t thank you enough.” (Psalm 30).