death

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.

Anger

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Note: These are my opinions. They do not reflect the views of WordPress, Brentwood Baptist Church, Kairos, or anyone else. They are solely mine.

I was thinking about anger today. Not because I’m angry. Far from it. I’m in a very good place emotionally. But some thoughts came to mind that I wanted to share.

Everyone deals with anger at some point. It’s even okay to be angry as long as you don’t use your anger as an excuse for sinning or justifying sin and as long as you don’t let your anger consume you or turn into bitterness.

At some point, all of us will be angry at God. I know I have. I do believe that God is big enough to handle our anger and would rather us vent it His way than hold it in and let it fester while we offer up pious prayers from insincere hearts.

We may at some point be angry at those loved ones who left too soon. We might be mad that they didn’t make better choices. We might be mad that they couldn’t beat the demons they fought. As you probably know, anger is one of the five stages of grief, and I know that anger can sometimes be directed at the one we’ve lost. Maybe healing can come in writing a letter to that person, expressing the anger, then destroying the note.

We will probably be mad at ourselves. Maybe because we didn’t speak words of love to those we loved while they were still with us. Maybe because we didn’t take risks for fear of failure. Maybe because we settled for safe instead of pursuing a God-given dream.

In my experience, anger is a masking emotion. We’re angry because we’re really afraid or insecure or doubtful. It’s always good to ask in the face of anger, “Why am I angry? Am I really afraid? Am I insecure about something? Is there something out of my control?”

I’m not a psychologist (although I did minor in Psychology in college). I don’t claim expertise in these matters. I’ve known what it’s like to wrestle with anger from time to time and where the root of that anger lies.

Maybe this will help someone find healing and be honest about being angry. To name it and be set free from it. That’s my prayer in writing this.

The Suffering Servant Part I

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Thorn again … Jim Caviezel as Jesus in Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ (2004).

“Indeed, who would ever believe it?
    Who would possibly accept what we’ve been told?[a]
    Who has witnessed the awesome power and plan of the Eternal in action?[b]
Out of emptiness he came, like a tender shoot from rock-hard ground.
He didn’t look like anything or anyone of consequence—
    he had no physical beauty to attract our attention.
So he was despised and forsaken by men,
    this man of suffering, grief’s patient friend.
As if he was a person to avoid, we looked the other way;
    he was despised, forsaken, and we took no notice of him.
Yet it was our suffering he carried,
    our pain and distress, our sick-to-the-soul-ness.
We just figured that God had rejected him,
    that God was the reason he hurt so badly.
But he was hurt because of us; he suffered so.
    Our wrongdoing wounded and crushed him.
He endured the breaking that made us whole.
    The injuries he suffered became our healing.
We all have wandered off, like shepherdless sheep,
    scattered by our aimless striving and endless pursuits;
The Eternal One laid on him, this silent sufferer,
    the sins of us all” (Isaiah 53:1-6).

This is what Easter is all about. That the promised Messiah would suffer and die was something almost no one would have anticipated, even though the prophets clearly foretold it. Many were expecting a military savior to drive out the Romans and restore Israel as a nation.

But here we see God with a much larger purpose in mind. Not only did Jesus come to Earth to save those children of Israel, but He also had in mind peoples from every part of the world. People of every tongue, tribe, and nation.

This Easter, I remember that it was for my wrongdoing that Jesus was crushed. It was for my healing that He suffered grievous injuries. By His stripes, I am made whole and healed and complete.

I love that Jesus didn’t give 10% for me. Or even 20%. He gave 100%. He gave absolutely all of Himself for me.

May you and I remember that this Easter.

 

Not All the News Out There is Bad

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Sometimes, when you read the headlines, you get the sense that everything is going wrong and we’re all headed to hell in a very large handbasket. You sometimes get the feeling that all the news out there is depressing and bad with no redemption anywhere in sight.

But I ran across this little news story just now and it gave me hope.

http://www.today.com/pets/final-goodbye-dying-zoo-worker-gets-kiss-giraffe-2D79416546

It’s bittersweet and a bit sad but also a bit hopeful as well. It shows that people can be decent to each other and that even animals can be kind. I won’t add any more to spoil it.

Of course, not all the news is gloomy and bad. The Gospel, which literally means good news, says otherwise. The Gospel is the best news ever shared because it gives us hope. It gives me hope.

It says that no matter how bad my present may seem, the future will be much better. God has guaranteed it. The Gospel says that the ultimate and final victory has already been won and the ultimate Good Guys are the victors. It may not seem like it right now, but God’s promises are as good as done.

In fact, what God promises is so sure that we can speak of it as if it were already accomplished. We can speak of the future in past tense because it’s that certain. That’s what I love about the Gospel.

Here’s my take on the Gospel. You and I were born messed up and diagnosed with a terminal case of sin. We’ve rebelled against God and messed up our own lives as well as the lives around us. But God wouldn’t let it end that way.

He became one of us and lived among us and showed us how it’s done. He lived the perfect life. Not only that, but He died in our place, taking the punishment we deserved and offering a free and full life of abundance that we don’t deserve. Life that is rich and full and that lasts forever.

That’s the good news of the Gospel. And I think that’s good news.

A Beautiful Borrowed Lenten Prayer

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Nouwen

 

I found this Lenten prayer from Henri Nouwen when checking my email. I’m subscribed to a site that sends me a daily quote of his because I am a huge fan of his writing. This one spoke powerfully to me and echoed my own thoughts better than I could ever express them. It seems very appropriate for this Ash Wednesday.

“The Lenten season begins. It is a time to be with you, Lord, in a special way, a time to pray, to fast, and thus to follow you on your way to Jerusalem, to Golgotha, and to the final victory over death.

I am still so divided. I truly want to follow you, but I also want to follow my own desires and lend an ear to the voices that speak about prestige, success, pleasure, power, and influence. Help me to become deaf to these voices and more attentive to your voice, which calls me to choose the narrow road to life.

I know that Lent is going to be a very hard time for me. The choice for your way has to be made every moment of my life. I have to choose thoughts that are your thoughts, words that are your words, and actions that are your actions. There are not times or places without choices. And I know how deeply I resist choosing you.

Please, Lord, be with me at every moment and in every place. Give me the strength and the courage to live this season faithfully, so that, when Easter comes, I will be able to taste with joy the new life that you have prepared for me. Amen.”

I could only add that God would give me the discipline to take the time I normally spend on social media and use it to delve into His Word and not just read words but to have my mind and heart transformed by what I read.

 

My Rights

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For the record, I am not one of those teetotalers who are against everything remotely fun. I have no problem with those who have the occasional beer or glass of wine. I’m okay with dancing. Even the Macarena.

I have noticed a disturbing Facebook trend among people who profess to be believers. One post will be about how much they love Jesus and the next will be along the lines of “I’ll live my life however I want and don’t you dare judge me” and “It’s my right to do whatever I feel like because I know God will forgive me in the end.”

I love what my pastor said: no one will stand in front of Jesus with His nail-scarred hands and feet and argue about their rights. Anyone who truly follows Jesus has laid down their rights.

If anyone had the right to insist upon his rights, it would have been Jesus. Yet that very same Jesus didn’t insist on clinging to His equality with God or His heavenly authority. He laid all that down and emptied Himself, becoming an obedient slave willing to go through torture and death instead of claiming His own rights.

No one has the right to cause a brother or sister to stumble, like drinking a beer or a glass of wine in front of a fellow believer who struggles with addiction to alcohol. The Apostle Paul says that while everything may be permissible, not everything is beneficial or helpful.

The verse that always convicts me is the one that says that whatever isn’t done in faith is sin. For me, a non-drinker, there have been lots of times I’ve sinned by not acting in faith.

The question isn’t “Do I have the right?” The question is “How will this honor and glorify Jesus?”

Ultimately, I laid down my rights when I said yes to Jesus and decided to follow Him. I was bought with a price and Jesus owns me completely. That includes my rights.

My prayer is that my life will be my witness to how good God is and that there will be nothing in my life that impairs that witness in any way. I hope that’s your prayer, too.

PS I know that I am prone to a judgmental spirit at times, but I hope you’ve read these words from a perspective of grace. I know I’ve messed up way too much to ever condemn anyone else for anything. We all need Jesus every moment of every day.

Music I Heard: For All The Ones I’ve Lost

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While this year for me is a happy time, it’s also brings a bit of sadness with it. The memories of those I’ve loved and lost come more alive at this time of year than at any other time. I’ve been thinking about a particular poem by Conrad Aiken that makes me think of family members whom I wish I could talk to but never will again this side of heaven:

“Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.

For it was in my heart that you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always, –
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.”

The good news is that there is the other side of heaven where I WILL see all these people again. And Jesus will be there to wipe away every tear from my (and everyone else’s) eyes.

 

Broken and Shared

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A friend of mine wrote these words: “Unless grapes and grain are broken there will be no bread and wine. Unless the broken are shared there will be no communion.”

Elisabeth Elliot wrote, “If my life is broken when given to Jesus, it may be because pieces will feed a multitude when a loaf would satisfy only a little boy.”

Sometimes, in order for God to use me, I have to be broken before I can be shared.

No, I take that back. EVERY time God gets ready to use me He starts first by breaking me. Every single time.

I don’t mean every time I completely fall apart and lose every possession and wind up destitute. I mean usually a dream of mine dies. Or a friend lets me down. Or I find myself overwhelmed by life.

It’s the day to day stuff that I stumble over most often. The big crises find me more calm and trusting in God’s strength and provision. But the small details get to me.

Dying to self isn’t always as grand and dramatic as taking a bullet for someone you love. It means dying a thousand times in a thousand small ways every day. It means dying to self-rights, to pride, to vanity, to my own way of seeing and doing things. Those are the hard deaths.

If you are going through brokenness, take comfort in this. God will bless so many more with your broken life than He could with your perfect life. Everything you’ve lost, God will restore a thousand fold, in the lives of a thousand people who find the hope of God’s provision in your story of ruin and redemption.

I still don’t like pain. I don’t like discomfort or inconvenience. I get impatient in front of the microwave, for crying out loud.

But I trust God’s leading. I trust His heart more than my own feelings, my own perceived need for comfort and safety and calm. Trusting that the bridge built with planks of thanksgiving and joy will hold up until I get all the way Home.

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:

““So here’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 imagine” (Mark Batterson, The Circle Maker).

Joy in the Midst of Sadness

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I celebrated with the rest of the family as my niece turned 2. Finally, I can stop counting in months. I was seriously running out of fingers and toes to count on.

I loved seeing the pure unadulterated joy on her face when she saw her presents and the complete love and trust she has for her mommy and daddy and two big brothers. It did my heart good.

But I also remembered Adrian Peterson’s 2-year old son who was allegedly beaten to death by his mother’s boyfriend. My heart hurts and I have questions I can’t answer.

Who does that to a 2-year old? For what possible reason?

I know we live in a broken world filled with broken people. Creation groans for deliverance and for everything to be made right. Too many defenseless and helpless children suffer, too many people go to bed hungry, too many marriages fall apart, and too many die way too young.

Then I remember how this story ends. I cheated and read the last page. It’s about God wiping away every tear from our eyes. It’s about a new Jerusalem, a new heaven and a new earth where lambs lie safely next to lions, where others is no need for sun, moon, or stars because God is there.

I love what the guest pastor said. God didn’t want an only child, so He chose us to be conformed to the image of His Son Jesus and become heirs with Jesus to all the promises of God.

I love this version of Romans 8:29-30: “God knew what he was doing from the very beginning. He decided from the outset to shape the lives of those who love him along the same lines as the life of his Son. The Son stands first in the line of humanity he restored. We see the original and intended shape of our lives there in him. After God made that decision of what his children should be like, he followed it up by calling people by name. After he called them by name, he set them on a solid basis with himself. And then, after getting them established, he stayed with them to the end, gloriously completing what he had begun.”

That’s what keeps me going in the midst of so much suffering and sadness. That’s why I can find joy in everything. Because ultimately Love does win.