“There is more to your life than you ever thought. There is more to your story than what you have read. There is more to your song than what you have sung. A good author saves the best for last. A great composer keeps his finest for the finish. And God, the author of life and composer of hope, has done the same for you” (Max Lucado, When God Whispers Your Name).

If you’re reading these words, your story isn’t over. If God woke you up and let you experience another day, you still have a purpose. As long as you’re breathing, every one of those breaths is a second chance to start over in the middle and be who you always hoped you could be and who God designed and dreamed you to be.

How often have I found this to be true. How many times do I look back at events and circumstances that didn’t make sense at the time but only become clear in hindsight? How many times have I had that a-ha moment when I finally understood what God was up to?

I admit that I’m a bit slow when it comes to trusting God. Even though I have a thousand reasons for faith, I still choose doubt and anxiety. I still cling to my scenarios that magnify the problems but minimize God and His goodness. Take for instance all the times I’ve had car issues (and there have been more than a few over the years). I still tend to envision the worst case scenario instead of relying on what I know to be true of God based on His proven track record.

But I think I’m learning.

That’s why God commanded His people to set up memorials all over the place back in ye Old Testament times. People were as forgetful then as they are now — as I am now. The current Goliath you’re facing may appear to be bigger than he really is and can give you amnesia to all the other times when you watched as the giants fell.

Thankfully God is more patient than we are slow to learn. We get lots of chances to see faith rewarded and hope reborn. And yes, one day it will all make perfect sense. One day we won’t need faith because we will see it all perfectly as God sees it all now.

Lord, we believe. Help our unbelief.

The plan was to wait for an hour or so at my church for a wrecker to take my Jeep off to the repair place and then go eat seafood with my dear mother. Yep, that was the plan.

But life has a funny way of happening while you’re busy making other plans. The evening didn’t quite turn out the way I had planned, to put it mildly.

The wrecker that was supposed to show up at 8:08 pm (according to AAA’s estimated time of arrival), didn’t show up at all. When I finally got through on the phone, the rep said that the next available ETA was 4:40 am. So I cancelled and will try again tomorrow.

Chalk it down to bad customer service and plans detoured. But I won’t call it a wasted evening.

I figure that at least I wasn’t by myself. At least I had a way to get home and wasn’t forced to wait until the wee hours of the morning. I figure my so-called “bad” day was still better than a good day for so many around the world who are facing way more than I could ever comprehend or imagine.

Plus, I recall that not even a no-show tow truck can separate me from God’s love. Not a car that won’t start. Not my own anxiety and impatience. Nothing. God’s love lasts beyond all that and beyond anything that I will ever face.

That’s some good news.

Tonight was the monthly Night of Worship for Kairos. Ever since we moved to Sundays, I missed those Tuesday gatherings. The past few months, they’ve had a special Tuesday night service focused on worship. Tonight, we had it on the front lawn of the church building, under the stars.

It was a perfect night for it. If I had to describe my ideal fall weather day, this would be it. There was a definite crispness to the night air and the bonfires actually felt warm and inviting. Instead of meeting in the usual Hudson Hall, we met in a larger, grander cathedral under the heavens.

At one point, I distinctly recall wishing that I had my jacket. Then I remembered that it was laying on the back of my chair at work. But I also remembered the bonfires. There’s something I love about the scent of a fire burning and the smell of sweet decay that comes with Autumn. No other season has the same aroma.

I’m thankful that I live in a place where I get to experience the fullness of all four seasons. Each season has its own charm and each speaks to a different facet of God’s mercy and grace. I prefer spring and fall over summer and winter, but I’m grateful for all of them. Most of all, I’m thankful that the heavens still declare the glory of God even when God’s people by and large don’t.

“It is a better thing to have a trouble, and know how to get grace enough to bear it. And we get grace enough to bear it — when we run into the arms of Grace who bore it all, into Him Who is more than enough.

I run my hand across the page. Gather the manna up into hands, what really is, and all that feeds:

Our cries to the Lord — are what give us communion with the Lord. It’s the dire distress that drives us into the deep devotion. It’s when all fails, His love never fails — and this is why we are a people who can always give thanks.”

I wish I knew who wrote that. I suspect it’s Ann Voskamp. It has her familiar cadences and rhythms. But whoever wrote it spoke truth. Trouble leads us outside of ourselves. Trials are what cause us to look up to Heaven. Tribulations are when we find out that God isn’t the Way Up There Distant Deity, but rather He’s the Emmanuel God-With-Us in the midst of our pain.

It doesn’t have to be a calamity that compels us to cry out. It can be a thousand little cuts. Those minor detours of our hopes and dreams and plans. Those million little ways we have to die to ourselves daily to witness God’s strength perfected in us.

Lord, give us our daily bread and our daily grace for what comes. You never promised not to give us more than we can handle, but You give us no more than You can handle when we come to you, willing and surrendered. Help us to know that You are always enough and that Your grace is always sufficient. Amen.

Today, they made it official. Kairos is moving back to Tuesdays at 7 pm. It’s a worship event for young(ish) adults that is a part of Brentwood Baptist Church. It’s been around since 2004 and has met mainly on Tuesdays until the pandemic. It got moved to Sundays to accommodate two services and social distancing. But since those are no longer needed, Kairos is going back to its originally scheduled day.

It may not sound like a big deal. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not. But it’s a small example that sometimes you do get to go back. Not every change is permanent. Not everything that changes is lost forever.

It also means that I can dine at Chick-fil-A after Kairos again. It means my pre-blessed Jesus chicken is back as well. I call that a win, even if it means I have to order from my mobile app and eat outside. It will still taste the same.

It’s finally starting to feel like fall again. Today was a picture perfect example of what the Autumn season is supposed to look and feel like, as opposed to the unseasonably warm temps we’ve been having in the great state of Tennessee.

It’s also 15 days until Halloween.

And yes, I’ve already had my pumpkin spice.

This almost makes me want to go out and buy a velveteen rabbit.

It also reminds me that God’s love for me is real and God’s love makes me real, even when I’m worn and shabby. I don’t have to get cleaned up and get my act together and figure my life out before God will accept me. Actually, it’s God’s love that will shape me into who I need to be — who God created me to be and always meant for me to be.

In the grand scheme of things, all that matters is what God thinks of you, above and beyond what anyone else might think of you. God’s opinion is the only one that has ever mattered.

“Years ago my mother used to say to me, she’d say, “In this world, Elwood, you must be” – she always called me Elwood – “In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant.” Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me” (Jimmy Stewart as Elwood P. Dowd in Harvey).

I agree.

“Everything about which we are tempted to complain may be the very instrument whereby the Potter intends to shape His clay into the image of His Son–a headache, an insult, a long line at the check-out, someone’s rudeness or failure to say thank you, misunderstanding, disappointment, interruption. As Amy Carmichael said, ‘See in it a chance to die,’ meaning a chance to leave self behind…” (Elisabeth Elliot)

If I had my way, my life would run smoothly and everything would go my way and everything I want would happen instantly and my days would be filled with comfort . . . and I would never grow or learn anything. I’d be stuck in a rut and eventually would find dissatisfaction even with the good parts of my life.

All those interruptions and insults are grating to be sure, but they are also God’s means of shaping and sculpting me. If the end goal is Christlikeness, then these means are definitely worth it. If I truly understood what it meant to be conformed into the likeness of God’s own Son, then I would rejoice in all these things and think the price a small one to pay. I’d probably see my life very differently and have way different priorities.

At the end of the day, that’s what matters most — me looking more like Jesus. That’s it. It’s me looking like Jesus and pointing to Jesus in my daily life so that others are attracted to Him and want what He offers.