compromise

10,000 Steps

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I recently purchased a Fitbit Charge. It counts your steps and tells you how many miles you’ve walked, how many calories you’ve burned, and how many stairs you’ve walked up. It also acts as Caller ID for your phone. It even makes great waffles. Well, not really, but that would be cool.

The goal is 10,000 steps. When I reach that milestone, I get a pleasant little vibrating buzz on my wrist to notify me of my accomplishment.

I remember what a friend of mine said. He said that every day you take 10,000 steps that either lead you closer to or further away from your desired destination. Those steps will either bring you into more intimate fellowship with God or in a direction away from His plans and purposes for you.

If you wake up and look around one morning and wonder how you got so distant from God, remember those steps add up. Every little decision matters and every little compromise and slip eventually adds up.

The good news of the Gospel is that the journey back isn’t 10,000 steps. It’s about 18 inches, the distance from your head to your heart.

All it takes is to decide once and for all to follow God, no matter what. To put Him first, even above your own spouse and your own children. To obey no matter what backlash society gives you. To lay down your life a thousand different ways every day in dying to your own rights, your own preferences, and your own emotions. To strive to be more like Jesus.

Every step matters. Every second matters. Every choice matters.

Joshua told the Israelites to choose this day whom you will serve. That’s not a once-in-a-lifetime choice. That is an every day, every hour, every minute choice. At every moment, you must choose to serve or not to serve God. Every step is a decision for or against the Lordship of Jesus.

Who will you serve right now? Who will you follow?

It all starts with that first step.

 

Keep On Keeping On

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“Write to Laodicea, to the Angel of the church. God’s Yes, the Faithful and Accurate Witness, the First of God’s creation, says: “Look at me. I stand at the door. I knock. If you hear me call and open the door, I’ll come right in and sit down to supper with you. Conquerors will sit alongside me at the head table, just as I, having conquered, took the place of honor at the side of my Father. That’s my gift to the conquerors!” (Revelation 3:14,20 MSG).

That’s who wins– the conquerors. Those who keep showing up day after day and never give in or give up. Those who stand by their convictions, no matter how popular they are, and don’t compromise for the sake of appeasing others and fitting in.

It may not feel like winning at the time. It may feel like all that you can do to make it out of bed, put on clothes, and put one foot in front of the other until it’s time to go to bed again.

You may feel defeated. You may feel hopeless. But you still keep getting up and going forth. Sometimes, that’s what winning looks like.

To be on Jesus’ side is to be on the winning side. To have Jesus in your corner is to already be more than a conqueror.

Jesus has read the past page in the last chapter of your book. In fact, He has written it. He knows how your story ends. He’s even promised that it would be the best ending you could ever imagine. And the best part? He’s not only read it; He’s in it as the main character. The hero.

Remember that the next time you feel dragged down and beat up by life. Just think about that when you’re closer than ever to throwing in that proverbial towel. You have already won.

 

 

A Face to Call Home: Still Another Letter to my Future Wife

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I chose this picture because I want my wife to look this radiant. The actual girl pictured is probably-- no definitely-- too young for me.

I chose this picture because I want my wife to look this radiant. The actual girl pictured is probably– no definitely– too young for me.

Little by little, inch by inch
We built a yard with a garden in the middle of it
It ain’t much but it’s a start
You got me swaying right along to the song in your heart
And a face to call home
A face to call home
You got a face to call home . . . .

So good you didn’t see
The nervous wreck I used to be
You’d never know a man could feel so small
And you never look at me
Like I’m a liability
I bet you think I’ve never been at all

Little by little, inch by inch
We built a yard with a garden in the middle of it
And it ain’t much, but it’s a start
You got me swaying right along to the song in your heart

And a face to call home
A face to call home
You got a face to call home

A face to call home
A face to call home
You got a face to call home

Maybe I could stay a while,
Maybe I could stay a while,
Maybe I could stay a while,
I’m talkin’ like all of the time” (John Mayer).

Here I am again, writing you another letter instead of holding you in my arms. A verse in Proverbs says that a hope deferred makes a heart sick, but a hope deferred is still better than no hope at all. And my hopes are alive, even if the monitors would barely pick up a heartbeat. I still have hope.

I’m seeing more and more of what you’re like and I’m loving it. You have a beauty that’s all your own and you’re probably not even aware of it. It’ll be my job to show you and tell you every single day how beautiful you are and to bring that radiance out of you. You have a smile that makes me weak in the knees and a laugh that warms my heart. I don’t deserve that way you look at me and only me.

If I were to say that I’m up to the task of being a husband and a father, I’d be proving once and for all that I’m not ready. I can say for certain that I’m not up to it– not nearly– but I’ll be calling on all the power of Christ in me if I have any hopes of making us work.

So yet again. I’m praying that you hold on to hope. I’m praying you don’t listen to anyone who tells you how to become their idea of beautiful. Don’t let any man (even me. Especially me) treat you like anything less than a Princess, Child of the King, Beloved, the one Christ thought was to die for. Don’t settle. Don’t compromise. Don’t quit.

I love what I heard while you search for the perfect man, you could be missing the one who’s imperfect but would do anything to make you perfectly happy. I’m praying when the time comes that will be me.

Until then, I love you already and I can’t wait to meet you.

Your future husband (and still another Ragamuffin who’s living his miracle).

Greg