The Craziness Continues

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There are always a few surprises in the NCAA basketball tournament. This year was definitely no exception. There were more than a few double-digit seeded teams knocking off their much-higher seeded counterparts. That happens every year. There will always be a few upsets to rattle everyone’s brackets a bit.

The biggest of all has to be #15 seed Middle Tennessee State University knocking off the #2 seed (and one of the favorites to win it all) in Michigan State University.

In my less-than-expert opinion, that has to go down as one of the greatest– if not THE greatest– upsets in the first round of any NCAA tournament.

No, I didn’t pick MTSU. Yes, I picked Michigan State to go far in most (if not all) of my brackets. Am I upset that my brackets are now busted? Meh. I didn’t have much hope going in of getting every pick right.

I am super excited for MTSU and Murfreesboro. I’m psyched that a team from close to where I live did what almost no one thought they could do– they brought down the Goliath of college basketball. I’m sure that people will be talking about this one for a long, long time.

From here on out, I’m just hoping for lots more upsets and stunners in the tournament. I figured at the very least I can print out those brackets of mine and make some very fine paper airplanes.

I’m thankful that nothing catches my God off guard. Nothing takes Him by surprise. Nothing that’s done to me or nothing I do to anyone will cause God to do a double-take.    Best of all, nothing can cause God to stop loving His children. Nothing.

God still works all things together for good. His good. My good. Your good.

That hasn’t changed. That will never change. No matter what happens or how bleak the future forecast looks.

That’s my hope that’s sending me off to sleep tonight.

A Borrowed Post for This March 17

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It is St. Patrick’s Day. I dutifully wore green and ate my corned beef and cabbage. I also watched Edward Scissorhands again (which really has nothing to do with St. Patrick’s Day or what comes next but is still one of my favorite movies).

I thought I’d share what I read this morning that spoke to me about the fellowship of the wounded and broken:

“Some of us tend to do away with things that are slightly damaged. Instead of repairing them we say: “Well, I don’t have time to fix it, I might as well throw it in the garbage can and buy a new one.” Often we also treat people this way. We say: “Well, he has a problem with drinking; well, she is quite depressed; well, they have mismanaged their business…we’d better not take the risk of working with them.” When we dismiss people out of hand because of their apparent woundedness, we stunt their lives by ignoring their gifts, which are often buried in their wounds.

We all are bruised reeds, whether our bruises are visible or not. The compassionate life is the life in which we believe that strength is hidden in weakness and that true community is a fellowship of the weak” (Henri Nouwen).

What do we do with those whose brokenness is more apparent than ours? How do we treat those who are less adept at hiding their weaknesses and failures?

I still love that Jesus didn’t just tolerate those who were outcast and broken. He often went out of HIs way to find them and bring them into His community. He laid hands on the lepers and spoke to the unmentionables. He loved those who couldn’t even love themselves, much less anybody else.

I still believe that these accounts of Jesus’ aren’t just for a lovely bedtime story or only to stir up sentimental feelings. It’s the ultimate example for all who follow after. It’s a blueprint for how to love those same people in our own lives.

Is it even possible? Not in my own strength. Not in yours.

It is only possible when we have fully received and embraced that same love for ourselves, acknowledging that we ourselves are broken and wounded. Only then can we truly love others in the unconditional way of Jesus’.

 

 

The Bigger Picture

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I’ve always been a fan of Vincent Van Gogh’s art. In fact, I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t completely captivated by his paintings.

Tonight, God gave me a revelation of sorts.

I imagined myself at the Louvres or some other famous art museum. I then imagined myself walking right up to one of the Van Gogh paintings. Much closer than they would probably allow if I were actually doing this and not just visualizing it.

I get so close that my nose is almost touching the canvas.

All I see is a confused mess. I see what looks like chaos and disorder.

If that’s all I saw, I probably wouldn’t have a very high opinion of Mr. Van Gogh’s work.

But if I step back . . . .

In the same way, sometimes life (and not just mine) looks like a confused mess. There’s not a lot of sense and order to the events occurring around me.

But maybe if I had the sense and the wherewithal to be able to step back and look from a greater distance, I’d see patterns. I’d see a theme.

Better yet, if I could see life and history from God’s perspective, maybe then what seems like a mess would come to look more like a masterpiece worthy of a museum.

It’s all about perspective. It’s all about seeing the bigger picture (and trusting the Ultimate Artist when you can’t).

That’s a good reminder for people like me on days like this when I feel like I could sleep for 72 hours straight.

I think that’s a good reminder for anyone at anytime.

 

The Joy of the Small

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“It’s the joy of the small that can make life large, and all wonder and worship can only grow out of small and humble things” (Ann Voskamp, 1000 Gifts).

One of my favorite small things is riding in my Jeep with the sun going down and just the right music playing to set the mood. I’m a big believer that certain types of music fit certain times of the day.

One of my favorites (which I wrote a blog about previously), is the eponymous album by Eastmountainsouth, which just so happens to lend itself to driving in the car at dusk. It has a laid-back ambiance which just fits perfectly the close of a good day.

I also love the soft feeling of my pillow and blankets after a long day of work. I read this on the interwebs and thought it seemed appropriate for me: I’m good in bed; I can sleep for days. True story.

Most of all, I know that in the midst of the fears that can suddenly arise and encompass me unawares, I am always surrounded by the Abba Father whose perfect love casts out all fear. I am held by the Immanuel who is always with me, no matter how long and how far I wander.

I love that no matter how much I listen to and follow the wrong voices, I can’t lose the Father’s love for me. It is an impossibility that God in Jesus’ love for me should ever wane or grow cold. In fact, God’s perfect nature means that He can never love me less than completely with an unconditional love that I will never come close to fathoming with my finite mind.

I also think that old-school jazz, a la Red Garland and early John Coltrane, is best for listening to with headphones on in the middle of the night. But not this night. I plan on sleeping like a champ tonight.

 

Busted Brackets

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I did my civic duty tonight. No, I didn’t vote. I filled out my NCAA basketball tournament brackets (nine in all).

Some of them I played straight. I picked all the #1 seeds to win. On some others, I just went plain crazy. I picked just about every game to be an upset.

It hit me as I was filling in these brackets. As you know, no 16 seed has ever beaten a 1 seed in the NCAA tournament. Ever.

There have been a few #15 seeds upset the #2 seeds and a few more #14 seeds pull a shocker over their 3 seed counterpart, but no 16 seed has ever beaten a 1 seed since the tournament expanded to 64 teams back in the 80’s.

What hit me was this: what God did for me in saving me was the equivalent of a #16 seed winning the whole enchilada. Or if you will, the 64th best team (think Austin Peay) winning the national championship.

I’m definitely not saying that God’s the underdog in this story. I am. On my own, I had absolutely no shot of making it out of the first round. I was the equivalent of a team of corpses.

But God made me alive in Christ. He raised me up with supernatural power. in Jesus, I have become more than a conqueror. My salvation story is akin to that Austin Peay team reaching the finals and beating those mighty Kansas Jayhawks in the national championship game.

A pipe dream? Maybe. But I know that in God what seems impossible to me and you is possible for God. In fact, it’s not even remotely difficult for God (thanks again to Pete Wilson for that one).

I have a feeling that most of my brackets will be busted and broken by the Sweet Sixteen. I know that spiritually speaking, my life in God will never ever be busted and broken because I serve a God who knows the way out of hell and the grave.

The end.

 

My Plan for 2016 — So Far

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“We are confident that God is able to orchestrate everything to work toward something good and beautiful when we love Him and accept His invitation to live according to His plan” (Romans 8:28, VOICE).

It’s not really a new year’s resolution, but I’ve made a plan for 2016. My goal is to visit all the campuses of Brentwood Baptist Church in this calendar year. Obviously, I’ve been to the main campus and I’m a member of the Avenue South campus, so those don’t count.

So far, one down and two more to go.

I visited the campus of The Church at Station Hill. That place is blowing up (in a good and non-destructive way). What I mean is that this congregation has doubled since they moved into their new facility.

In a city where 95% of the churches are either plateaued or declining, that’s pretty remarkable. That speaks to what God is doing in the Spring Hill and Thompson’s Station area. That speaks to people who are completely committed to following the vision God has laid on their hearts.

They have a dynamic pastor in Jay Strothers. They have a really good contemporary worship team (with a brass section that reminds me of the old band Chicago). They are warm and friendly people who made me feel right at home.

Next month, the plan is to visit The Church at West Franklin. I’m very excited to see this church, once failing and now repurposed and thriving once more.

In May, I want to see The Church at Woodbine. I’ve heard really good things about this congregation, how they’re so ethnically diverse yet unified in their focus of reaching the lost for Jesus.

As Brentwood Baptist adds more regional campuses, I hope to be able to set aside a Sunday in the month to visit those as well.

So far, so good.

 

Someone In Your Corner

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For Jesus is not some high priest who has no sympathy for our weaknesses and flaws. He has already been tested in every way that we are tested; but He emerged victorious, without failing God” (Hebrews 4:15, The Voice).

I saw something I thought was beautiful yesterday at the Youth Evangelism Conference last night.

After the invitation, I saw a young girl talking with an older woman, probably a youth leader or a youth parent. The young girl was obviously upset about something and crying and the woman was giving her best sympathetic ear.

That may not sound like much to you, but it spoke to my heart.

I’ve been in places before where the one thing I needed was to know that someone was in my corner, that someone believed in me enough to listen to what I had to say, crazy as it may have been.

Sometimes, you may not even want solutions. You just want someone  who will listen without judgment and who can say, “I know exactly what you feel because I’ve been there.”

The good news possible is that I have a high priest who understands. You have a high priest who understands. Jesus has experienced everything you and I go through, yet without failing like you and I sometimes do.

The best news is that Jesus isn’t someone who feels bad for us, which leaves two people feeling bad. He’s actually able to do something about it (credit to Mike Glenn for that one).

He’s actually able to take those stupid mistakes and bad decisions and to turn the outcome into something glorious. He’s more than able to redeem a life previously wasted and without meaning and make it count. Make it shine.

We have a High Priest who specializes in second chances and do-overs. That’s what I’m thankful for again tonight.

PS My time volunteering at the YEC was a blast (as usual) and God willing, I plan to be back next year for what I think will be my sixth year. Or maybe seventh. I’m really not good with the math.

 

The Art of the YEC High Five

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Once again, I’m  volunteering at the Youth Evanglism Conference (also known as the YEC) at the Municipal Auditorium in downtown Nashville. Basically,  I drove straight from work to the YEC and have been up since 5:25 (which I believe is over 18 hours). Suffice to say, I’m pooped.

On day one, I served as a greeter for the incoming youth groups. Essentially, I gave high fives until my hands were raw.

There’s an art to giving a high five. It’s not just me slapping your hand with my hand. It’s about connection. It’s about community. It’s about me saying to you, “You will not go unnoticed, because I see and acknowledge you).

Plus, there’s a good amount of hype that goes into it. You can’t give a half-hearted high five. A good high five can energize the recipient and also leave your hand numb for a few seconds. That’s the price of art.

It’s also another example of being faithful in the smallest details in hopes that God will take something seemingly insignificant to turn someone’s day (and possibly even life) around.

More high fives to come on day two.

Blog #2,062 Or Day 29 of Lent

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I’ve loved my break from social media. I suddenly find I have all this free time and I’m actually engaging in the world around me.

Unfortunately, I also feel out of the loop on current events. I don’t know what’s going on in the lives of my friends.

When I’m Facebooking or Instagramming, I at least feel somewhat connected to what’s going on around me. I’m able to keep up with all my friends’ activities, what they’re eating, who they’re dating, who’s engaged, etc.

Now I have no clue.

Still, it’s a small price to pay for giving up social media. I highly recommend everyone who reads this to fast from social media (if you’re not one of those who already abstains from it). It’s extremely refreshing.

I always have Netflix to get me through. I’m up to season four of The Wonder Years (and loving every minute of it). I got to the part where Winnie cried when she broke up with Kevin. It almost made me cry.

Think of the time that The Wonder Years is set in. There was no social media, no cell phones, no computers (at least not personal ones), and only the basic channels on TV. Yet they somehow managed to survive.

There are days when I think society as a whole would be better off without so much reliance on social media and technology. Just don’t ask me to give it up for very long.

Also, I have my blogging outlet to get me through the absence of social media. I can still share what’s going on in my world. Sometimes, that can be very therapeutic.

Most of all, I am being reminded yet again that God is enough. He more than fills any absence of Facebook or Twitter or Instagram. He more than makes up for the lack of a wife or kids. He alone is sufficient for every day of the year, no matter what the season.

 

Every Little Thing Matters

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“Lord, when I feel that what I’m doing is insignificant and unimportant, help me to remember that everything I do is significant and important in your eyes, because you love me and you put me here, and no one else can do what I am doing in exactly the way I do it” (Brennan Manning, Souvenirs of Solitude: Finding Rest in Abba’s Embrace).

That’s it.

As Mother Teresa once said, there are no great acts, but rather only small acts done with great love.

To put it another way, when done out of the right spirit, out of a genuine and abiding love for Jesus, everything you do and say can become an act of worship. Even cleaning toilets or scrubbing floors. All those menial tasks that don’t have much inherent value can be living prayers if they’re done as an offering to Jesus.

That makes all the difference in drudgery and delight, between surviving and thriving.

Maybe you’re not exactly in the high-profile career you thought you’d be in by now. Maybe you’re not pulling down the big bucks.

Then again maybe your job is to make a difference in the lives of those people in your office. Maybe your best gift is to be quite possibly the only positive light to someone who otherwise only exists in darkness.

Maybe you don’t have to go to seminary and get ordained to have a ministry. Maybe your ministry is you showing up every single day and giving your absolute very best for eight hours.

Maybe if you’re faithful in the little things over time, God will entrust you with bigger things down the road.

Or maybe you’ll get to the end of your life and realize that all those little things done with great love really were the big things after all.