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.

 

Jesus Loves the Little Children

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The Gospel of Mark tells a very interesting story of Jesus and children.

By the way, when John-Mark brings up children, what he has in mind isn’t our highly idealized view of children as cherubic and precious, but the ancient culture’s view of children as those who couldn’t yet contribute, so therefore weren’t worth very much.

In other words, when Jesus welcomed those children, He welcomed the disenfranchised and marginalized. He welcomed those who were outcasts and nobodies to most people’s eyes.

Jesus often sought out those overlooked by everyone else. He sought out those on the fringes of society, those who often got overlooked and ignored.

That’s good news for those who have never felt like we belonged anywhere, to those who always feel on the outside looking in.

Jesus is for you. No matter what you’ve done or where you’ve been or who you’ve been with, Jesus is still for you. He wants to be with you, to be your peace and your strength.

That leads to the next question: who are you speaking for in your life who has no voice? Who are you standing up for who can’t stand up for themselves? Who are you using your gifts and talents to be Jesus to marginalized and ostracized people the way Jesus was to you?

These are some questions that Chris Brooks brought up at Kairos. The main question of the night was this: is your faith childlike or childish? That’s a question that will probably hit close to home for a lot of us (including me).

The childlike faith is one that still has doubts but know where to take them. It doesn’t necessarily claim to have all the answers but knows Who does. It may not always get what it wants but is never deterred in its trust in the God who ultimately always comes through with all His promises to us.

That’s the kind of faith I want.

A Deeper Dependence

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“Explore me, O God, and know the real me. Dig deeply and discover who I am.Put me to the test and watch how I handle the strain. Examine me to see if there is an evil bone in me, and guide me down Your path forever” (Psalm 139:23-24, VOICE)

Some days are easy. I feel like I’m at the top of my game (whatever game that is) and everything I do comes easy. All my traffic lights are green and seemingly everything I touch turns golden.

Somedays just aren’t. Some days it feels like a struggle to do the easy stuff. There are days when I’m doing well to remember my own name, much less anybody else’s.

Every day, every path, every choice leads me closer to or further away from who I really want to be.

I’ve come to the decision over time that there’s not a day that goes by where I’m not completely dependent on my God. Good days, bad days, easy days, difficult days, all days are days where I won’t survive unless I lean on the Lord.

I think that’s success– a place where I am completely and utterly dependent on Jesus, trusting Him completely for every single need. That’s the place where I find the truest peace and the richest mercies.

That’s where I want to be.

But then that desire to be my own man rears its proverbial ugly head. The cultural idea of the self-made man who pulls himself up by his own bootstraps is a hard notion to kill.

Yet kill it I must if I want to be in a place where Jesus is all my heart’s desire, where I am satisfied with nothing more and nothing less than as much of God as I can handle (and then some).

I still wish Mondays didn’t have to start so early.