celebration

Palm Sunday

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“Almighty and everliving God, in your tender love for the human race you sent your Son our Savior Jesus Christ to take upon him our nature, and to suffer death upon the cross, giving us the example of his great humility: Mercifully grant that we may walk in the way of his suffering, and also share in his resurrection; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen” (from The Book of Common Prayer).

We celebrate Palm Sunday today.

On this day, Jesus rode into Jerusalem a hero. The crowds greeted Him with palm branches and shouts of “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!”

I doubt anyone could have guessed at that point that a week later those very same people would be shouting again, but this time for Him to be crucified as a common criminal.

Jesus knew. He alone knew what was really in their hearts. He wept over Jerusalem, the city who had the very Messiah they had so longed for in their very midst, but refused to recognize Him. The very ones who murdered the prophets sent by God Himself.

Jesus knew that not too long after that, Jerusalem would hardly be recognizable. In fact, it would be a ruin. The Romans, true to the prophecy, would not leave one stone standing on top of another.

I wonder when was the last time I wept for Nashville? Or my neighbors. Or the people around me who don’t know this Jesus, who don’t know that there’s a hope of a better life and a better future awaiting them?

Lord, break my heart for what breaks Yours. And then spur me to do something about it.

I’m Offically As Old As Elvis

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Well, ok. The secret’s out. I’m really not 39 (again). I’m 42, the same age as Elvis was when he passed (no pun intended).

I had a great birthday. It started out with a fantastic lunch at Loveless Cafe with my mother. I even got in a nap (one of the few perks of being unemployed). I even got my taxes done. It was a great day.

It was another day where I chose to focus on the positives instead of the negatives. I chose to be thankful for all that I have instead of lamenting all that I lack. Like a job. Or money.

But I still have my wonderful family. I still have some truly amazing friends (to which I say thank you for all the Facebook birthday well-wishes). I have good health and a good God who always takes care of me.

I have the laziest (and most companionable) cat in the world. She celebrated my birthday the way she celebrates most days– with a marathon nap.

As I’ve mentioned before, a birthday is a way of celebrating survival, of making it through another year. I know I’ve talked about knowing too many people who won’t get to see their 42nd birthday, but it’s true.

Life isn’t something you should ever take for granted. It is a gift. Every day of it is a precious, once-in-a-lifetime gift that will never come again. So live it well.

By the way, I’m still accepting all forms of payment and gifts for said birthday. Just kidding. Sort of.

Christmas Eve Eve (Or Is It Christmas Adam?)

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Today is December 23. As the old joke goes, the day before Christmas Eve is Christmas Adam, for obvious reasons. And no, I didn’t say it was a good joke or even a funny joke.

It’s hard to get in the Christmas spirit when you can’t even take a moment to breathe. For me, I’ve been working crazy hours and getting some very last minute shopping in. All those plans for having all my presents bought early and devoting more time to celebrating Advent went the way of the BetaMax and the HD-DVD. They didn’t last long.

But as Bill Murray’s character in the movie Scrooged asks, “It’s not too late, is it?”

No, I don’t think so.

It’s never too late to turn your eyes to the manger and see the child laying there. It’s not too late to come and kneel before the infant King with the Shepherds. It’s not too late to make room for Immanuel, God With Us.

Whether it’s December 23 or after a lifetime of missed Christmases, it’s never too late. Even if you’re older than 92, you can still become like a child and receive this gift, despite what The Christmas Song says.

That’s why I love Christmas. God the Infinite became an embryo to show that no place is too small for Him to come into and make a difference. As my pastor always says, all He needs is a place to start, the tiniest opening in the heart, the most hesitant of acceptances to begin the miracle of change.

If God can change a heart like mine, He can change yours. That is what Christmas is really all about, Charlie Brown.

My Salvation Story

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I’m sitting here on this gorgeous Fall Sunday, watching the embarrassing end to an embarrassing footfall game. By that, I mean my beloved Tennessee Titans losing to the previously winless Jacksonville Jaguars. Can we say, “Bye-bye, playoffs?”

In much happier news, I’ve been reflecting on my own salvation experience.

I can tell you what my salvation is not:

It is not based on me walking an aisle or signing a card 30 years ago. If my salvation is fire insurance from hell and nothing more, then it’s not legit. If all I did was pray a prayer and recite some words, then I’m just as lost as I was then.

It’s not knowing facts about Jesus or attending church or being born to Christian parents or being American or Republican or knowing all the Christian buzzwords. None of that.

It’s about when I gave up control of my life to Jesus. It’s when I said YES to everything Jesus has for me.

I was saved (justification) once and for all the day I opened my heart to Jesus and let Him begin His work in me.

I am being saved (sanctification) daily by putting off my old sinful self and putting on Jesus. Or you could say, I’m being saved by Jesus finishing what He started in me like He said He would.

I will be saved (glorification) when Jesus comes back for good and all those annoying sin habits and destructive thought patterns go away forever. When I become what God has already declared me to be– a perfect replica of His Son Jesus.

As Pastor Mike Glenn says, if I don’t live it, I don’t believe it. No matter how eloquent my words are, they mean nothing if I don’t live what I preach.

I’m so glad it’s not up to me being good enough or smart enough or strong enough. I’d never make it. Thankfully, it was and is and always will be about how Jesus found me and rescued me and did for me what I could never to for myself.

That calls for a celebration, don’t you think?

My Favorite Psalm (As Of August 8, 2012)

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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).