Tangible Memories

 

I have my grandfather’s old radio. It sat on his workbench for years and kept him entertained while he tinkered and puttered around in his garage.

Now it sits in my bedroom, a tangible reminder of someone that I loved who is gone but not forgotten.

It’s more than a collection of old tubes and dials and wiring. It’s like a piece of my grandfather is here with me, even though my grandfather has been gone almost 30 years.

I hope one day to leave a legacy like that to someone. I hope that the words I have written or spoken, the things I have done, will inspire someone else to go out and make a difference, to do what most other people say can’t be done.

The radio still works. It takes a minute or two for the tubes to warm up, but after that it sounds as good as it ever did. Legacies are funny that way.

 

 

My Rant About Tennessee Driving

First of all, I am not a perfect driver. I am what is known in the technical sense as direction-impaired. I have done my fair share of unintentional sight-seeing and taken a few unintended scenic routes because I turned the wrong way once (or five times).

But sometimes I’m driving and I see someone doing something that compels me to speak out loud to that driver. I’m aware that that person can’t hear me and I probably look foolish, but I say things like:

“You know, those yellow lines in the center of the road? Not just for decoration anymore.”

“The term ‘middle of the road’ is an expression not to be taken literally. Pick a side and drive on it.”

“You know that little stick thing coming out of your steering wheel? That’s called a turn signal. Learn how to use one.”

“That red light still means stop. And I’m pretty sure it hasn’t become optional.”

There are some cases when I have no words, like when someone swerves over three lanes to make a last-minute right hand turn. Or when someone takes an hour to turn into a parking lot.

The funny thing is that I do some mindbogglingly stupid stuff when I’m driving. But I can justify my own driving because I was in a hurry or stressed or preoccupied. Sometimes, I just have to look at the other driver and mouth the words, “I’m sorry.” Usually spoken to the rear-view mirror.

I should probably give more grace to other drivers. If I weren’t so preoccupied with judging other people’s driving skills, I might just be a better driver myself. I’d hate to think that someone else used my standards when judging me as a driver.

It’s easier to make it black and white and point the finger in any area of life, but much harder to extend grace. I’m really good at receiving it, but not nearly so good at giving it out.

Just another reason why I’m so glad that grace isn’t about what you or I deserve, but about the mercy of God.

 

I Like to Ride my Bicycle, I Like to Ride my Bike

 

This is a fairly close approximation to what my bike looks like. My bike is a year or two older than this one, but essentially has the same look and design as the one shown above.

For about 5 years, my bike was in a dormant cocoon-like state in the garage, yearning for the sweet taste of summer breezes blowing through its spokes. It was a sad and lonely bicycle.

Then one day not too long ago, I took out Max (that’s the name I just now have given my bicycle) and took him for a spin. The first time, I about did myself in and had to lie down for a little while afterward. The next time wasn’t nearly so bad.

Today, I went down to a nearby walking/biking trail and did about 5 laps around the trail. I got a bit sore, but I didn’t get overly winded and I felt good at the end.

My investment in my Giant Cypress DX is finally paying off, 6 years later. And in case you didn’t know, my bike is a 2007 model. Apparently, bikes have different models each year like cars do. Shows you how versed I am in bike-lore and all things two-wheeled.

One day, I’d like to trade up to a newer model bike, preferably one with a carbon frame (since they are much lighter than my current aluminum-framed dinosaur). They are so light, I was able to pick one up with one hand. My left hand, in fact.

But until then I’ll be content to be slummin’ it in my 6-year old bicycle. Seriously, I’m very happy with my bike. I may even get it tricked out with a headlight and a place to hold a water bottle (and maybe even one of those obnoxious bicycle bells).

I’ve come a long way from the days when my sister had to bribe me to learn to ride a bike. Back then, I could be had for 2 or 3 G. I. Joe action figures. I wasn’t too savvy when it came to bargaining, apparently.

What’s the point of all this? Just for you to go and pull your bike out of its cocoon. Pull those roller-blades or quads out of the back of the closet. Go down to your nearest walking trail or park and get some fresh air and exercise. Even if you don’t have a bike or roller-blades or old-school skates, you can still jog or walk.

Trust me, it will do you a world of good.

 

Fueled by Joy

I’ve been thinking about gas a lot lately. I mean the kind you put in your car, not the kind so prominently featured in the Ace Ventura movies or in the ads for Gas-X. This is a family blog, people.

I keep waiting to see one of these signs in front of the nearest Shell gas station (or Exxon or BP or any of the others, for that matter).

I’ve also been thinking about something a friend of mine posted a lot. What if we could run our cars not on gasoline, but on joy? How far could we get and what kind of exhaust would we leave behind?

Maybe that’s not so far-fetched as it sounds. Maybe what the world around us needs to see are lives fueled by joy. Not happiness which comes and goes on a whim and is affected by every little change in circumstance, but joy which God promised us as believers would be made complete in us and remain in us.

How many people in your life are known for being joyful people? Aren’t those the kind of people you gravitate toward? Aren’t those the people you secretly envy at times and wish you could be more like?

Those full of joy, running on the promises of God and powered by the Spirit living inside of them, leave behind an exhaust of peace. They leave behind love. They leave behind patience, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. Most of all, they leave behind more joy, because true joy is infectious and lasting.

You won’t get far fueled by fear. You might get where you’re going fueled by hate, but you destroy yourself in the process. You’ll go nowhere fueled by the need to please everybody or the need to have everyone like and admire you. The best fuel on the market for running your life comes out of pure joy that you can only get from living in the abundant overflow of God’s unconditional love for you and believing His promises about and for you.

So choose to fuel up on joy. You won’t regret it for one single, solitary second.

Real Peace

Tonight at Kairos, I was reminded of the true nature of peace.

Peace is not the absence of war or conflict.

Peace is not the absence of storms and ever-sunny skies with nary a cloud in sight.

Peace is not contented cows chewing cud in a field of grass.

Peace is not a trouble-free life with no worries and nothing heavy weighing on your mind.

Peace is standing firm with the ultimate confidence that God is on your side.

Peace is knowing that there is a battle, but this battle is already won, and Jesus is the Victor.

Peace is  the assurance that nothing can separate you from the love of God, that Jesus has already overcome anything you will ever face in this life.

Peace is believing that even when the storms come– and they will– that even the winds and waves are stilled at the voice of Jesus, because they recognize the voice of their Creator.

Peace is what guards your heart and mind every night as you sleep because your God neither slumbers nor sleeps, but keeps watch over you at all times, singing His own songs over you.

Peace is what you put on your feet that will enable you to hold your ground in the face of whatever the enemy throws at you, because your enemy is a defeated foe and your God has already won.

May this peace be yours always as you know more and more of the Prince of Peace and His love for you. May this peace rule your hearts and minds now and forever.

 

Reminders of Why I Need Grace

I got home from Kroger with redbox rental in hand, ready to settle in for an evening with The Phantom of the Opera at Royal Albert Hall. Until I realized that the $10 in cash I had added to my debit card purchase was still at Kroger.

So I drove all the way back, fuming and calling myself all sorts of names. I was hyper-critical of the drivers around me, because I of course am always the model citizen and poster child for good driving.

I even was a little snippy with the lady when I asked about my $10. Thankfully, someone turned it in to customer service and I got it back.

I was reminded of something I heard a pastor say. We want justice for when others mess up, but mercy and grace for ourselves. How true that was tonight.

If only I could have shown more grace to the other drivers and to those at Kroger’s who were only doing their job. If ony I could have been more forgiving to myself for making a mistake.

I need grace. You need grace. We all need grace every second of every day. We all need to be willing to give it as well as receive it. We will all make dumb mistakes and do things that cause us to slap our foreheads and want to call ourselves names (not all of which are fit to print here).

Like leaving $10 behind.

Thankfully, I am not who I was. I’m also not who I will be. I am a work in progress. We all are.

I’m thankful that when God sees me he doesn’t see the bad attitude and the short temper I had, but rather He looks at me and sees Jesus. Even on nights like tonight.

By the way, the Phantom of the Opera at Royal Albert Hall was nothing short of spectacular. I got goose bumps and chills several times.

And tomorrow is a new day full of new chances and new mercies and fresh grace.

That’s good, because I will probably need it. So will you, if you’re anything like me.

Owning Who You Are in Christ

I like what Woody Allen said in his movie Annie Hall. He said, “I would never want to belong to a club that would have someone like me for a member.” Ever felt that way?

I know you’ve heard about people looking for the perfect church and how if you ever find it, don’t go there, because it won’t be perfect anymore. I can relate to that.

One of Satan’s main job descriptions is accusing believers day and night before God. Some of what he says may be true; a lot of what he says it not.

It doesn’t matter. What the devil says about me is not who I am. What people I work with say about me is not who I am. Not even what my friends and family say about me is who I am.

I am solely and completely who God says I am in Christ. I am holy, righteous, perfect, lacking nothing, and having everything I need. I am, because God says I am.

If you believed what God says about you– really, really believed it deep down– you would live differently. So would I. We wouldn’t be captive to the opinions of others. We wouldn’t live and die by the praise and criticism of others.

Only God really and truly knows me. He knows the secrets I keep, the fears I never tell any one, the shameful thoughts I have, and the doubts I carry. He knows it all and yet He’s the one who says good things about me.

He sees Jesus in me and what Jesus is doing in me. He sees the finished product as well as the work-in-progress.

If anyone had the right to condemn me or write me off, it’s Jesus. Yet He’s the one who intercedes for me and fights for me. He’s your Advocate, too.

Read Ephesians 1:1-15 and notice all that God says about you. Write those things down and meditate on them. Let those things become how you see yourself, because that’s the way God sees you.

If you haven’t already seen it, I recommend Annie Hall as a good movie to watch. It’s a classic.