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Character (And Not the Cartoon Kind)

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I’m sure you’ve heard the word character defined as “what you do in the dark” or “how you behave when you think no one is watching.”

I agree with that. But my question in response is: so what does that look like in real life?

I think it means keeping your word. Regardless.

It means following through on a commitment, even if it becomes inconvenient.

It means when I say, “I’ll pray for you,” actually praying. I can say that I’m about 50/50 on that. Sometimes, I pray and sometimes I intend to but life and forgetfulness get in the way. I need to work on that.

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It means when you say you’re a friend, actually being a friend and not just being friendly. To me, being friendly means “whenever I gave spare time or whenever I feel like it.” Being a friend means sacrificing by taking time out do other important things to make time for a person.

Character means when I say I’ll be somewhere, actually showing up.

Character means more than good intentions and good feelings. It means I am the same person to all people in all situations. Not like the old joke, “I’m frank and earnest with all my women. In Memphis, I’m Frank and in Nashville, I’m Earnest.”

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When life squeezes me, what comes out? Is it anger? Is it annoyance? Is it impatience?

The reality is that what I’m filled with is what comes out. If I spend time with Jesus and get filled up with Him, He’s what comes out.

People are watching me whether I know it or not. People will decide whether or not Jesus is worth following by examining how much I talk about Him and how much I look and act like Him.

And sometimes, it’s fun to be a character. But that’s another topic for another day.

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Who Says You Can’t Go Back?

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It’s been 18 years since I graduated and 8 years since I last stepped foot on the campus, but today I went back to Union University, where I spent four of the best years of my life.

I knew in my mind that things change. I prepared myself for seeing a different Union than the 1995 version that I remember so well. But even then it was still so very surreal.

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Just about every building on campus was new or completely remodeled. Even the layout of the buildings was different. There were no walls around the guys and girls dorms. Maggie would not have been pleased.

It hit me that half the students on campus weren’t even born when I graduated from Union. Well, maybe 1/4. I was never very good at math.

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I found a vey few familiar places. The old library smelled exactly like it did in 1995. Funny how particular smells can trigger memories. For me, nothing stimulates remembering more than a certain combination of scents.

I found my old mailbox slot (and yes, it had mail in it and no, I didn’t open it). The cafeteria still looked the same.

I walked down the same sidewalk where I once had my trusty umbrella inverted by a sudden windy downpour. I could literally see the rain heading toward me as I walked to class. I also remember leaving for an 8 am class on a frigid winter morning with my hair still wet and arriving to class with my hair literally frozen.

None of the people who made Union great were there. New people are there making new lasting memories with new friends. Who knows? 18 years from now, maybe a current student will come back to unfamiliar people and buildings in 2031?

I know I’m not the same person who wanted so desperately for people to like him and to fit in and to belong. I’m not the same person who didn’t like himself very much and couldn’t bear to look at himself in the mirror. I’m definitely not the same guy who thought no girl could ever find him attractive or ever seriously consider a dating relationship with him.

Coming back reminded me of how far I’ve come. Maybe it wasn’t so much the new buildings and people that made my visit surreal. ,
Maybe it was me seeing everything with new eyes. Whoa. That was deep. šŸ˜

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I found God’s peace and healing at Union. I made some amazing friendships with some amazing people. Some I’ve kept up with, some I’m not friends with anymore, but all of them I still am thankful for.

I remember still the feeling I had the first time I set foot on this campus. I knew without a doubt that this is where God wanted me. Today, I look back and I can see just as clearly why that was.

I remain blessed. I am still living my miracle. God is good.

Theology from a BBC Sitcom

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I’ve discovered a great new (to me) BBC sitcom called Miranda. It’s about a very tall and very awkward English woman named– wait for it— Miranda, played by –again, wait for it– Miranda Hart.

The whole concept of the show is Miranda being socially awkward, clumsy, and hapless in just about every situation. Something none of you can relate to, I’m sure.

Maybe you find your self talking to someone you’re romantically interested in and you find the most bizarre things coming out of your mouth. Your mind is thinking, “What in the world?” but is completely helpless to stop your mouth from talking.

No one? Then how about this one, sports fans?

I’m not a woman. Big shocker.

And I’m not 6’1″. At least everywhere except in my own happy little world.

But I’ve had my share of socially awkward moments, of trying way too hard to be friendly, of being both obsessive and compulsive with certain relationships, and of not being “normal.”

But I’ve come to the place where I wouldn’t trade places with anyone. I’m having way too much fun being me. I’ve finally caught a glimpse of God’s heart for me and His dream for me and how He made me like no one else.

Not everyone will get you. That doesn’t make you inferior or less worthy. Trust me, God will bring people into your life who will more than just get you. They will embrace you and celebrate you and champion you. They will make you feel like a superhero on days when you can’t even button your shirt up right.

Remember that God Himself more than gets you. He made you. He designed you just the way you are to be like no one else and play a part in His ongoing Story that absolutely no one else could possibly fill.

I’ve seen 5 episodes so far and I love it. I also love the way my family and friends love me. I adore how God adores and celebrates and rejoices in and dances over and shouts over me.

I call that a very good reminder for this All Saints Day.

Is God Fluffy? Questions I’ve Never Thought About Until Now

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I sat in on a very interesting conversation with some friends and a man who’s name I have unfortunately forgotten. It was surreal and made my brain hurt a bit.

The guy said that God called him on a quest. Immediately, I thought something along the lines of “They should make pills for this.” The cheese had obviously slid off of this guy’s cracker.

He said that sometimes He calls God “Master Fluffy.” That one had me scratching me head. Master Fluffy? Really?

I’m just being honest. Keeping it real, as the kids nowadays put it.

Then again, I remembered some things.

Aren’t I taking meds, too? How would I think and behave if I’d been through west this guy has been through (or even half). My cheese might be completely AWOL from my cracker.

And doesn’t God speak of protecting us underneath His wings? Doesn’t He know when the lowliest sparrow falls from the sky? Doesn’t He delight in all His children, including the ones with broken minds and broken hearts?

Most of all, didn’t God put on human skin and come to pitch His tent among us? To laugh and weep with us? To experience every bit of what we face, except without sin?

I can’t help feeling sometimes that the most “normal” of us don’t get God half as much as the ones who don’t always act and speak normally. The ones who need pills to make their minds work right. The ones who felt ugly and stupid and fat and unloveable until they understood how large a space God has reserved in His heart just for them?

To get into God’s Kingdom, you have to be like a little child. I know it means you have to come acknowledging that you are helpless without God.

I like to think it also means you need to see the world through the eyes of a child, with eyes that cling to dreams, look for fairies and pixie dust, find miracles around every corner, and never give up hoping that joy will win in the end.

Celebrate not that you are normal, but that you are unique. Celebrate that there is and will never again be anything in the world quite like you. Find joy in being “heaven’s poetry etched in lives” (Ephesians 2:10).

Then you will start out discovering Eucharisteo, finding joy and thanksgiving and grace in everything, and living your miracle.

Take it from one unique and blessed Ragamuffin.

My Own Particular Brand of Theology

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I used to love to argue theology. It was all about not only proving my side was right, but proving just how wrong the other side really was. After all, if anyone REALLY read the Bible, they would see things the way I saw them. Right?

I had my proof texts. I had my arguments.

I’m a lot less dogmatic about a lot of things, but there are a few things I still can say for certain.

I would never have loved God if He hadn’t loved me first.

I would never have chosen Him had He not chosen me from before creation.

In the end, I will have no room for boasting. I won’t be able to pat myself on the back on how clever or wise I was for choosing Jesus and following Him all these years.

In the end, Jesus will get ALL the credit. He’s the one who wooed me and led me with tender words through the desert. He’s the one who found me when I got lost from the path countless times, walked beside me, and carried me when I couldn’t walk.

All Jesus needs to to AMAZING things in my life is the tiniest of places to start. Just the least bit of agreement on my part gives Him room to amaze me and everyone around me by what He does in and through me.

I’ve come to the point where I don’t really trust -isms anymore. I trust Jesus. I try not to build my faith on what people have said about Jesus but in what Jesus actually said. I have set my hopes not on a man-made system of rules and beliefs but in a Person.

Lately I’ve found I’m a lot more flexible and forgiving and loving and compassionate because I have seen all those times when I was weak and unloving and messed-up and broken. I’ve found that grace really is the best way.

I guess some people will call me a liberal. Some will call me a fundamentalist. Lately, I’ve gotten away from using terms like born again because of too many political implications associated with that word. When I look back at my life and where I am as opposed to where I’ve been, the word I choose to use is THANKFUL. I’m living my miracle and I’m falling in love with Jesus a little more every single day.

 

A Little Sunday Perspective

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“Look carefully at your call, brothers and sisters. By human standards, not many of you are deemed to be wise. Not many are considered powerful. Not many of you come from royalty, right? But celebrate this: God selected the worldā€™s foolish to bring shame upon those who think they are wise; likewise, He selected the worldā€™s weak to bring disgrace upon those who think they are strong. God selected the common and the castoff, whatever lacks status, so He could invalidate the claims of those who think those things are significant. So it makes no sense for any person to boast in Godā€™s presence. Instead, credit God with your new situation: you are united with Jesus the Anointed. He is Godā€™s wisdom for us and more. He is our righteousness and holiness and redemption. As the Scripture says: ā€œIf someone wants to boast, he should boast in the Lord” (1 Cor. 1:26-31).

Hi. My name is Greg and I used to be a nobody with no hope, no purpose, and no future. I was hopelessly lost and about as far from God as humanly possible.

Then Jesus found me.

Those of you who know my story might be scratching your heads right now and asking, “Weren’t you 7 when you got saved? What bad things could you possibly have done at age 7?”

Well, according to the Bible, anyone without Christ is dead in sins and alienated from God. That was me.

I look back at when Jesus found me. I don’t remember the exact day or feelings I had. I do know Jesus changed me and has been transforming me ever since. I do know I got a direction, a purpose, a new name, and a future.

According to Forbes or GQ or Entertainment Weekly, I am a nobody. But Jesus knows my name. That more than makes up for looking like a fool and an idiot in the eyes of the world for what I believe and how I live my life.

Jesus knows my name.

I can’t get over that.

At least when I’m not caught up in mind games about how this person may or may not like me. Or how I might have offended this or that person.

If I have everything the world has to offer and don’t have Jesus, I really have nothing. I lose. If I have Jesus and absolutely nothing else, I have everything. I win.

I am so forgetful about what really matters. The best things in life aren’t free; they’re not even things. They are the people God brings into your life, whether for one hour, one day, one month, or a lifetime. They are the ones who remind you of who you really are and Whose you really are.

You can replace things. You can never replace people once they’re gone from your life.

So that’s why I can say I’m blessed. I’m rich in the currency of love. I am living my miracle every day, the miracle of seeing blessings everywhere, of finding joy in every place and circumstance, of always finding God right where I am if I only know where and how to look.

It truly doesn’t matter if people remember my name after I’m gone. It won’t matter if no one ever finds me attractive or desirable. My Abba is very fond of me, has chosen me, made me His child, and forever called me His Beloved.

That’s enough for me to last a lifetime. That’s enough for a lifetime of lifetimes. I’m good.

Pumpkinfest 2013: My Take and Other Thoughts Thrown in for Free

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I had a great time at Pumpkinfest 2013 in downtown Franklin. I even got in a bit of exercise, parking in The Factory and walking the rest of the way.

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I stopped in at all my favorite haunts (get it? haunts on a Halloween celebration?) including McCreary’s Irish Pub, Frothy Monkey, Sweet CeCe’s, and St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. It was great.

It was crowded, to say the least, They had Main Street blocked off from 1st Ave all the way to 5th Ave. There were lots of families with little kids dressed up in costumes. Even a few dogs had costumes. I’m sure while the owners were all like “How cute he looks” or “How adorable he looks,” the dogs were all probably thinking, “Kill me now. Please.”

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There were booths everywhere. Crafts, food, music. You name it. It was there.

I’m sure the people who work there are glad that these festivals only happen every so often. Every place was packed out the entire time I was there. That had to make for a long work day, especially on a Saturday.

I try to be as positive and encouraging a customer as I can. I know it sounds like a K-Love commercial, but it’s true. I’ve done enough time in retail to know that people are used to rude and ungracious customers. I think part of being like Jesus is to make people feel as good about themselves as possible. To help them see all they could be. Plus, that one encouraging word could mean the difference between a completely crappy day and a somewhat good day.

I love seeing my friends in downtown Franklin. They always make me feel at home there, especially at McCreary’s. I know just about all the servers there and even pray for them regularly by name.

I’d like to be the person people remember fondly, but I’m praying that even if they don’t remember me at all, I’ve shown them Jesus in such a way that they never forget HIM. After all, it won’t matter about who knew me in the end, but it will mean everything as to whether people know Jesus or not.

I can’t wait until the Christmas Dickens in the Square festival.

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A Very Random Friday Night

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I had the brilliant idea to go contra dancing tonight. I’m still not entirely sure what it involves, but it sounds more than slightly Latin and probably a heck of a lot of fun. It’s called me stepping out of my familiar box into something new.

At least that was the theory.

I input the address into my iPhone and away we went ( me and the ever-so-helpful tiny lady who lives inside my phone and gives directions).

I still managed to miss a turn or two, but still got to my destination by 7:25, exactly like my phone predicted. There were lots of cars, so I felt hopeful.

That was short-lived. I did hear two guys singing “Bye Bye Love”, an Everly Brothers song, but not one you can contra dance to. At least as far as I know.

The sign on the door directed me to another address, thankfully not far from the first one. Again, I input the directions and obeyed the nice lady and got to my appointed destination, filled with renewed hopes.

And a back-up plan. My thought was, “If this doesn’t work, I’m going to Starbucks.”

Yes, I found the place where the contra dancing would take place. I had checkbook in hand. But then I learned it was $20 for the night. So Starbucks and a $4 salted caramel hot chocolate suddenly became very appealing.

Back in the car. New directions. Same helpful and friendly voice.

So I get my little cup of heaven and sat down next to an older gentleman and across from a very pretty college-age girl. It turned out, he was waiting for someone. Me and the girl looked up every time someone walked in. We even exchanged glances when he went out to the parking lot and chatted to someone sitting in a parked car.

No dice. I never did find out who he was waiting for or if he (or she) ever materialized. In the meantime, I finally finished reading The Divine Conspiracy. I left, wishing them both a blessed weekend. It seemed like the right thing to do.

There was no a-ha moment to the night, no epiphany. Just a series of disconnected random events that won’t make any headlines or get talked about around any office water coolers on Monday. Maybe one day it will make sense in terms of my overall story, but right now, it feels like a very artsy postmodern movie with no plot and a very vague ending.

But it was a good night. I stopped and enjoyed the moments and my heavenly drink. It was nice.

And sometimes nice is enough.

Letting The Door Close for Good

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I have a picture on my iPhone. It’s me with a friend at Centennial Park, under a picture-perfect summer night sky. I have my arm around her and we’re both smiling. We have just been swing dancing and having a grand time. We look like such good friends.

I had that picture. Up until tonight. I deleted it. I let that proverbial door close. You know. The one almost closed but barely held open by one of those rubbery door stop thingys? The one that once it’s closed you can never re-open?

It’s now closed. I believe her chapter in my life is over. I prayed my goodbyes and grieved over the friendship’s end. My next steps are moving on.

It’s not like she’s a bad person or even that the friendship was wrong. But I think sometimes you have to let go of something that was good– or even very good– in the past to be able to receive God’s future best.

Sometimes you have to say goodbye to your dream in order that God can dream a bigger and better dream in and for you.

So I’m letting a few things — and a few people– go. I hold no bitterness and no more regrets. I cherish the memories but realize that I must move on as they have already moved on.

I can’t wait to see what God has in store for me in the coming weeks and months, but I know it will be good. I love the imagery in this quote from a book I’m currently reading:

“ā€œSo hereā€™s my thought: Your best thought on your best day falls 15.5 billion light-years short of how great and how good God really is. Even the most brilliant among us underestimate God by 15.5 billion light-years. God is able to do 15.5 billion light-years beyond what you can ask or imagineā€ (Mark Batterson, The Circle Maker).

Counting Crows and Everything After

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I drove home tonight with a Counting Crows CD playing in my car. I know the hipsters either listen to digital streaming or old-school LPs, but I still like my CDs. And yes, I was singing at the top of my lungs, not caring if I looked ridiculous to the fellow drivers.

Music takes me to a happy place. So does good writing.

I read something today that was written to women, but with a little work, I think I can take away something for me as well. It goes like this:

“You’re fine exactly as you are.
Your curves, words, flaws, strengths, thoughts.
You don’t have to change.
You aren’t fat, stupid, or worthless.
You are you.
You are amazing.
You are wonderful.”

I think those could be God’s words to His children tonight. No wait . . . I know those are God’s words to YOU tonight. Right where you are, sitting in your robe with curlers in your hair. Or sitting in your t-shirt and boxers with hair defying all the laws of gravity.

A random sire note: I spent too much time trying to find this on Pinterest again after I lost it the first time. I wanted to share it with a friend of mine who needs this reminder. I almost forgot that maybe it was me who needed reminding more than anyone else.

God loves you exactly the way you are. That makes you loveable. That makes you valuable. That makes you somebody. That defines and completes and identifies you.

You may need to lose 10 (or more) pounds. You may not always like the person who looks back at you from the other side of the mirror. You may hate your job and your life and even yourself at times.

But you are amazing. You are wonderful. You are beautiful.

And you are the apple of God’s eye, the delight of His heart, and His beloved Daughter or Son.

Don’t ever forget that.