Those Crazy Spider Monkeys!

monkey

I heard something very interesting about monkeys and coconuts. And no, there’s not a Monty Python joke coming. Or a reference to any Animal Planet show currently airing.

I heard that a way to trap a spider monkey is to drill a hole in a coconut just big enough for its hand to fit in and put food in there. The little monkeys will reach in and grab the food, but with their hands in a fist clutching their prize, they can’t pull it out again.

The end result is either death or capture.

My first reaction is: aren’t those just greedy little monkeys?

My second is: what is so great about what they’re holding onto that they can’t let go?

Then I wonder how many times I’ve been trapped like that by holding onto something I don’t need to. Like a wound from my past. Or maybe a failure I can’t forgive myself for. Or maybe a selfish desire of mine.

Maybe you’re holding onto your idea of how your life should play out. Maybe it’s a relationship that’s toxic and hazardous to your health and your heart. Maybe it’s unforgiveness that keeps you up nights. It could be anything that takes the place of Jesus in your heart. Even good things.

Whatever it is, you can’t move forward until you let it go. You can’t be free unless you release your grasp of whatever it is that you’re white-knuckling.

I’m reminded of a story of a little girl whose father gave her some imitation pearls. She loved those pearls and wore them everywhere. She even slept in them. But one day her dad asked the unthinkable.

“Give me your pearls,” he said.

“No, Daddy. You can have anything else. My dollies, my stuffed animals, but not my pearls.”

So he let it go that night. But he asked again the next night. And the night after that.

Finally, with tears in her eyes, she said, “Yes, Daddy. You can have my pearls.”

With one hand he took the imitation pearls, and with the other he gave her a box containing very real and very expensive pearls. He had been waiting for her to let go of the imitation so she could have the real thing.

What are you holding onto that keeps you from receiving what God has for you? It may be a good thing, but if it keeps you from God’s best, let it go. If it keeps you from full devotion and obedience to Jesus, let it go.

Trust me, what you give up won’t even compare to what you get in compare. Or as a guy named Jim Elliot once said, “He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

The Seven Stations of the Cross

stations

 

Tonight, I went to a Prayer Experience at Brentwood Baptist Church. It was about praying through the seven stations of the cross. I know that the Roman Catholic Church has 14, but we’re Baptists, so seven for us is a good start.

I didn’t spend too much time at each station, but just enough to grasp a little more of what the Cross meant for me.

I’ve always known about Jesus dying on the cross to save me, but I guess I never really let myself go there in a really deep and meaningful way. If you do, you find shame and humiliation. You find excruciating pain and suffering. You find the most agony one man has ever endured in the history of mankind.

I became aware that it was my humiliation and shame that Jesus bore. It was my sin that he carried on that cross and it was my death that he died. I should have been up there, nailed to that piece of wood.

I realized for the first time that Jesus doesn’t want my sympathy for what happened to him there. He doesn’t want me to feel sorry for him up there. He wants me. All of me. My heart, my mind, my will, my life, all of it.

Just as Simon of Cyrene picked up Jesus’ cross and carried it for him, I’m called to pick up a cross and carry it. That’s what being a disciple means.

Jesus would have done all of it for me, even if I were the only one in the world who needed it. That thought still astounds me. He loves me that much.

So don’t skim over this part of the story. Allow yourself to go there emotionally and mentally and spiritually. Stand in front of the cross and witness the suffering Savior and grieve with his followers. Watch as he is laid in the tomb. Remember that all of this is for you.

Then you can celebrate Easter Sunday.

I Have T-Shirts Older Than You

It’s a humbling thing to realize that you’re old. I came to that realization when I found my old t-shirt from high school in the back of my closet. This t-shirt dates back to 1991, my senior year. It’s old enough to vote. I feel old.

But I’m also thankful. I made it this far. A lot of people didn’t. I can’t complain about my age because some people didn’t get the chance to experience their 40’s. Or even 30’s.

It really is all about perspective. I’m not thinking about how much longer I have left. I’m taking each day as a gift and being thankful that I woke up today with all my hair and most of my senses.

Life is good because God is good and God is life.

 

Some Things I Found While Randomly Surfing the Net

“Keep a clear eye toward life’s end. Do not forget your purpose and destiny as God’s Creature. What you are in His sight is what you are and nothing more. Remember that when you leave this earth, you can take nothing you have received . . . but only what you have given; a full heart enriched by honest service, love, sacrifice and courage” (St Francis of Assisi).

I still can’t help thinking about the Ash Wednesday Mass at St Philip’s that I attended Wednesday. I’d like to say that I was brave enough to go down front and receive the ashes and the sacraments, but I wasn’t. I stayed in the very back and observed everyone else going forward, but I couldn’t make myself go. Even though I didn’t know another living soul there, I could have gone, but I chickened out.
It was still a beautiful service. To have the visible reminder of just how serious sin and its consequences are on your forehead is to remember the terrible price it took to pay for that sin. To receive the sacraments is to remember that it took a broken body and shed blood for that sin to be paid for.
I know I’ve sinned in the area of things left undone. I’ve sinned by listening more to my fear than to my faith. I’ve been more concerned about pleasing those around me than pleasing God. I’ve sat down when I should have stood up and walked.
But I also know that I’m forgiven. What I deserved, death and hell, fell on Jesus, and what I didn’t deserve, life to the fullest and grace overflowing, came to me and those like me. All I can do is be thankful and show that same grace to others who need it, too.
Since this is Valentines Day, a.k.a Single Awareness Day, I’m throwing in some wise words from a woman who epitomized grace and style. These are wise words to live by:

“For attractive lips, speak words of kindness. For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people. For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry. For beautiful hair, let a child run her fingers through it once a day. For poise, know that you never walk alone” (Audrey Hepburn)

Sanctuary

I love old churches.

There’s one I particularly love in downtown Franklin. It’s an old Espiscopal church that dates back prior to the Civil War, and every time I step inside I feel like I’ve been transported to a vanished age. One where life was a lot less fast-paced and complicated.

A sanctuary is a place of safety and peace. It’s also a place where God comes and takes up residence.

The Apostle Paul said that believers are the temple of God. That means that you and I are the place where God dwells, where people come to meet God and to find peace.

I love that.

In a world filled with violence and unrest, people are desperately searching for calm. Where there’s so much upheaval and turmoil and chaos, people are looking for rest.

We as believers should be that place of calm and rest. People should see our lives and be drawn to our light. They should see God in us and the difference he makes in the way we respond to the storms and turmoil in our own lives.

That means that when those storms come, we know that God isn’t vaguely out there somewhere beyond the clouds. He’s not trapped in a building with a steeple or locked away behind  ornate church doors. He’s in us, with us, and for us.

We can know the peace of having the same Jesus who calmed the storms with a word of his mouth living in us. That same Jesus that overcame death and hell.

I’m thankful for sanctuary. I’m thankful that God has come to make his home in me and in all those who cling to Jesus as Lord and Savior. I know that means that I should be different than those around me, so they will be drawn to the God inside.

Lord, help me to love others as much as you loved me, and to show them the way to You the way you once showed me.

Amen.

 

 

Something Positive I Found While Randomly Surfing the Web

computer-cat

Not everything on the web is useless. There are worthwhile things to be found (including, I hope, this little blog of mine). I found this while randomly googling the term “giving people grace.” On a side note, I try to always give people grace and the benefit of the doubt because many times I have needed both myself. Here’s what I found:

“When there is death, grace lives.

When a job is lost, grace can be found.

When memories are forgotten, grace is remembered.

When money is gone, grace remains.

When pain is too much, grace is even more.

When relationships fail, grace triumphs.

When friendship is split, grace repairs.

When lies are told, grace is truth.

When injustice lingers, grace overcomes.

When tears fall, grace uplifts.

When hope walks out, grace stays put.

When vows are broken, grace mends.

When fear keeps you quiet, grace proclaims.

When lies humiliate, grace praises.

When heights are unreachable, grace climbs.

When wars rage, grace fights.

When lust diminishes, grace values.

When pride crushes, grace restores.

When image is tarnished, grace is beauty.

When hearts change, grace continues.

When emotions unload, grace carries.

Grace. Grace. Grace.” (Jake Dudley)

Here’s the original source.

http://www.potsc.com/category/giving-grace/

Treasuring the Time

I went to a Bible conference tonight. One of the last things the speaker talked about was losing his daughter.

He said that she loved Christmas and was the one who made it fun for everybody else. She always was the one to give out presents on Christmas Day and she loved giving far better than receiving.

But early this year, she died suddenly of a pulmonary embolism. No warning. No time to say goodbye. One moment she was here and the next, she was gone. That family’s Christmas will be very different this year.

That sobered me up a bit.

Life really is precious. We take for granted that not only we, but all those we love, will wake up tomorrow and we will be able to see them at the next holiday gathering. That goes for family and friends.

But tomorrows aren’t promised to anyone. Life is a gift, not an entitlement, and it is fleeing.

I have loved ones I wish I could go back and talk to one last time. I’d tell each of them how much I loved them and how much they meant to me and how I’ve missed them. But I can’t.

I can only say that to the ones still living.

Make a point to let the ones in your life know how much they mean to you. Be deliberate in telling your family and friends how much you love them and cherish them. Don’t assume that you’ll have tomorrow to tell them.

The best part of the Christmas story is that goodbyes aren’t forever anymore. One day, we will see the ones we have loved and missed all these years. One day God will wipe away every tear from our eyes. One day everything we’ve lost will be restored to us a thousand-fold.

Until then, live each day as a gift. Treasure the time you have and treasure the people around you, for you never know when they won’t be there.

 

Baggage Part III: Trials Turned to Gold

I’ll admit that I am addicted to comfort too much of the time. I don’t want to step outside my comfort zone too often.

But I keep thinking about the believers in Thessalonica. They only had Paul and Silas for a few short weeks. They were new converts, yet they still managed to turn their world upside down.

The big takeaway for me was how they endured persecution and ridcule, but how that endurance and trial turned into perserverance. That perserverance turned into character, which led to a hope that nothing and no one and nothing could quench.

What you’re going through will end, but your story won’t. Who better to talk to someone struggling with alcoholism than a recovering alcoholic? Who better to help someone cope with the loss of a child than someone who has walked the same road and cried the same tears? Who better to help someone deal with doubt and discouragement than you after you’ve been through a dark night of the soul when you felt hopeless and alone, but finally saw daylight at the end of your trial?

I love the quote from a movie I saw that said that only those who have lost can truly lead. Only those who have been hurt can help bring healing. Only those who know how they have messed up their lives and what Jesus save them from can truly love well and lead well.

It’s all about loving well. It’s not how religious you can talk or how well you keep the rules. It’s not about how convincingly you can point a finger at people and expose their faults. It’s about how you can be a vessel of God’s love and love people right where they are for who they are.

I’m not really good at loving well, but I’m getting better. Those rare moments when I did love well were moments when I forgot about me and let Jesus take over.

My prayer is that you learn to embrace your story, even the painful parts, and help others to find the good in their stories, too.

Above all, may we all learn to love well.

Death and Taxes

Today’s blog is by a special guest, Dietrich Bonhoeffer. As far as the taxes are concerned, good luck. I got mine done early this year and I’m grateful to have that behind me.

Here’s what Bonhoeffer had to say about the subject of death, expressed better than I’ve ever heard it or read it before:

“No one has yet believed in God and the kingdom of God, no one has yet heard about the realm of the resurrected, and not been homesick from that hour, waiting and looking forward to being released from bodily existence.

Whether we are young or old makes no difference. what are twenty or thirty or fifty years in the sight of God? And which of us knows how near he or she may already be to the goal? That life only really begins when it ends here on earth, that all that is here is only the prologue before the curtain goes up – that is for young and old alike to think about. Why are we so afraid when we think about death? … Death is only dreadful for those who live in dread and fear of it. Death is not wild and terrible, if only we can be still and hold fast to God’s Word. Death is not bitter, if we have not become bitter ourselves. Death is grace, the greatest gift of grace that God gives to people who believe in him. Death is mild, death is sweet and gentle; it beckons to us with heavenly power, if only we realize that it is the gateway to our homeland, the tabernacle of joy, the everlasting kingdom of peace.

How do we know that dying is so dreadful? Who knows whether, in our human fear and anguish we are only shivering and shuddering at the most glorious, heavenly, blessed event in the world?

Death is hell and night and cold, if it is not transformed by our faith. But that is just what is so marvelous, that we can transform death.”

More Thoughts on Fighting From Victory (And not For It)

chariots of fire

I normally don’t do follow-up blogs to ones I have posted. Kinda like the line about not repeating this ever again or something like that. Did I mention my brain is a little fuzzy this evening?

Someone posted a comment on my blog that got my attention. I failed to mention or say correctly that we should pray for strength. Absolutely. We should pray that God will strengthen us with power through His Holy Spirit.

It seems to me that sometimes we should claim the power that is already in us. The Bible states that the power that raised Christ from the dead is in us. It is in us because the risen Christ is in us.

The power that my sin couldn’t overcome. The power that death could not conquer. The power that the grave couldn’t hold down. That kind of power.

Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t pray to be strong, but rather that God would be strong through me. I want to be a vessel that God pours through, that God loves through, that God comes through.

Sometimes I know how I want to say something in my head and for whatever reason, it doesn’t quite come out in print. On a side note, I have become quite familiar with the taste of shoe leather for as many times as I have put my foot in my mouth and said really dumb things. That really makes me feel like a heel.

Pray for strength. Yes. Claim the power of the risen Christ in you. Yes. The point is that you don’t have to live defeated and downtrodden. You can live in victory because the Victor lives in you.

That’s what I am praying and claiming for myself and for all of you tonight. May God’s peace rule your hearts tonight, friends!