A Beautiful Moment

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I saw one example of Eucharisteo paying off today.  My mother and  were on the way back from picking up my grandmother from her assisted living apartment. We had Hank Williams playing in the car, hoping my grandmother would recognize the old music.

We got to the song “Hey Good Lookin'”, a song pretty much EVERYBODY has heard of at some point in their lives. My mom started singing and, lo and behold, my grandmother chimed in. I don’t know why that moment blessed me so much, but it did.

Out of all the great things that happened today– seeing my niece Lizzie’s joy in opening her birthday presents, being with family, driving home at night with the windows rolled down– that moment topped them all. In fact, I’d say it has hit the charts with a bullet for one of my favorite moments of 2013.

I guess I love that moment because I was able to slow down to catch that fleeting moment and savor it. I didn’t miss it like I’ve missed so many others because I was too busy looking back in regret or looking ahead with anxiety. I was squarely in that moment and seeing God at work right then and there.

My grandmother is 89 and her memory’s not what it used to be. I know she won’t live forever, as much as the 10-year old part of me thinks otherwise. I know no one I love lives forever. At some point, I will have to say goodbye to everything and everyone I love this side of heaven. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t relish in every moment I’m given. It doesn’t mean that I can’t build memories of moments that will carry me through the grief back to the joy.

I love my friends, whether they’re in my life for 15 minutes, 6 months, 2 years, or a lifetime. I know better than to assume every friend will always be my friend and will always be around. I also know that each person, whether family or friend, has left footprints in my heart and residue of their spirit in my soul, so that I am forever changed, more like Jesus, because of knowing them.

My prayer isn’t that people will look back and remember me as a really swell guy, but that they will look on the times they spent with me and reflect on how much closer to Jesus they are now because of my small part in their lives.

That’s all.

A Beautiful Puritan Prayer

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“O God of Grace,
Thou hast imputed my sin to my substitute,
and hast imputed his righteousness to my soul,
clothing me with bridegroom’s robe,
decking me with jewels of holiness.
But in my Christian walk I am still in rags;
my best prayers are stained with sin;
my penitential tears are so much impurity;
my confessions of wrong are so many aggravations of sin;
my receiving the Spirit is tinctured with selfishness.
I need to repent of my repentance;
I need my tears to be washed;
I have no robe to bring to cover my sins,
no loom to weave my own righteousness;
I am always standing clothed in filthy garments,
and by grace am always receiving change of raiment,
for thou dost always justify the ungodly;
I am always going into the far country,
and always returning home as a prodigal,
always saying, Father, forgive me,
and thou art always bringing forth the best robe.
Every morning let me wear it,
every evening return in it,
go out to the day’s work in it,
be married in it,
be wound in death in it,
stand before the great white throne in it,
enter heaven in it shining as the sun.
Grant me never to lose sight of
the exceeding sinfulness of sin,
the exceeding righteousness of salvation,
the exceeding glory of Christ,
the exceeding beauty of holiness,
the exceeding wonder of grace.”

From The Valley of Vision – A collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions
Edited by Arthur Bennett

Falling into Autumn

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Officially, today, September 22, is the first day of autumn. Thus commences yet again my very favorite season, filled with colorful leaves, cool breezes, hot cider, hayrides, bonfires, and crisp nights.

For some reason, autumn makes me most nostalgic. Something about the combinations of smells peculiar to fall triggers happy childhood memories of places and people long since gone.

Most of my favorite movies are set during autumn, or at least have memorable scenes set amidst the riot of changing leaves (think When Harry Met Sally or A Beautiful Mind).

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Some friends and I took lunches out to Granny White Park. I took my ever-so-yummy burrito from Chipotle’s and drank water like a healthy boss. We threw the frisbee around and had a great time. Later, we played sand volleyball on the courts at Fellowship Bible Church. It was picturesque.

The part of living in Tennessee that is both good and bad is the unpredictability of the weather. In other words, I can’t count on every day until December 21 being this postcard perfect. I’ve learned to appreciate these idyllic days and enjoy each one.

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I’m learning to appreciate each day as a blessing from God. Too many people I know who are my age and younger won’t get to see their tomorrows (at least not on this side of eternity). Truly the old saying is true: today is a gift– that’s why they call it the present.

I’m also learning to see God in each and every day. That comes with seeing through eyes of gratitude and thanksgiving and joy. Even those blessings that come disguised in suffering and hardship.

I believe the weather will be hot and muggy later in the week, but I’ll still have the treasure of remembering this day when I’m sweating like the turkey that’s about to be Thanksgiving dinner.

That’s truly enough for me.

Twelve Years Later on 9/11

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“In honor of all those who have come behind…. in honor of Christ who lived like that: Go into a hurting world and live your life as a First-Responder.”

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I still can’t believe it happened. Even 12 years later, it doesn’t seem real to me.

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I googled 9/11 images today and found hundreds of pictures ranging from patriotic and stirring to emotionally gripping and heartbreaking to chilling and disturbing.

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I still remember exactly where I was when my boss at the time called me into his office to witness replays of the first plane hitting the first of the World Trade Center twin towers.

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Almost 3,000 people lost their lives that day. And yet it could have been much more catastrophic. Thanks to the heroism of first-responders, many who sacrificed their own lives, there were far less fatalities than there could have been.

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The best in us rose to the occasion for when the worst in us showed its ugly colors.

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Yet around the world, many people still face on a daily basis what we faced on one day twelve years ago. Many will lose their lives today simply because of their beliefs, their ethnic origins, their gender, or out of pure evil. Many will see loved ones massacred in many horrific ways.

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I’m praying for us as a human race today. I’m praying for our nation.

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But I’m not praying for God to save us from extremist Islamic terrorists.

I’m not praying for God to deliver us from President Obama and the liberal agenda or the Tea Party and its right-wing policies.

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I’m praying this prayer today: “Lord, save us from ourselves. Lord, save me from myself.”

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imageI’ve seen in my worst moments what I could have been apart from grace, and it is not pretty. I can be petty and vindictive and selfish and lazy and hateful and rude. Left to myself, there’s no telling what I’m capable of.

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We as a human race are our own worst enemy. We have a worldwide pandemic raging through our population, affecting every single person who has ever lived called sin. Because of the Fall, we are fallen and broken people living in a fallen and broken world. Thousands of years of history has proven that we can’t save ourselves from ourselves. We are in desperate need of a Savior.

We have one. That pandemic called sin didn’t actually affect every single one of us. Jesus, the God-man born of a virgin, lived and died a sinless life and an atoning and sacrificial death on our behalf. He did for us what we could never do for ourselves– He came to save us.

So I remember 9/11 again on this day, but I also remember that one day Jesus is coming back to set all things right again, to restore what the locusts and the terrorists and the politicians and the narrow-minded pharisees have stolen. He’s coming to bring true peace and true joy and true life.

So I pray on the 12th anniversary of 9/11, but not just on this day: “Jesus, come quickly.”

Blessed Are the Ignored

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“Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty” (Mother Teresa).

Have you ever felt like you were being ignored?

Have you ever worked in an office where a co-worker made the point of chatting with everyone else but never with you?

Have you ever sent out a friend request on Facebook and not even gotten the dignity of a response?

Have you ever texted or messaged someone and it seemed like that person didn’t even feel you were worth bothering to respond to?

Have you ever felt that no guy or girl ever even saw you as a romantic possibility or even thought about you as anything other than a friend?

I read this week that to feel ignored is the worst feeling of all. I agree. It hits at one of our most vulnerable spots– the need to feel valued and appreciated as a human being.
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When someone ignores you, that person is essentially saying to you, “You don’t matter. You have no value.” It’s demeaning not only to that individual, but also to the God who created them (see Psalm 139).

Jesus knows exactly what that feels like. He stood before Jerusalem, weeping because they refused to turn to Him so that they could have true and eternal life.

Do you know something? There is never a moment that goes by where you are not on God’s mind. There is never a second where you are not on God’s heart and His eye is not on you.

Jesus would rather go through the hell of crucifixion and death for you than go to heaven without you. If you had been the only one, He still would have gone through all of the torture and pain because He thought you were worth it. And He still does. He still thinks you’re to die for.

Jesus’ love for you proves once and for all that you have worth and value. You matter. Whatever anyone else ever says or does to you will never negate the fact that your Abba loves you and is very fond of you. He has forever set His affection on you and nothing and no one can ever take it away.

Maybe you’re reading this and realize you’ve been guilty of ignoring someone, either consciously or otherwise. Maybe you’re feeling a tug at your heart compelling you to go to that person and make it right. Don’t let another day go by until you repent before God and restore that relationship.

Remember, God’s heart is still for the widow and the orphan, the outcast and the forgotten, those that society ignores. He still blesses those who bless them. In the Kingdom of God, everyone has a place. In God’s call, everyone is to hear the Good News; no one is ever to be left out.

I now understand that sometimes people are too overwhelmed by circumstances to see me. Sometimes, it’s all they can do to hold themselves together and not fall apart completely. The best thing you can do for someone who doesn’t acknowledge you is to pray God’s peace and healing over them. To pray they know in that very moment that God sees them in their pain and knows where they are.

God, you see us when no one else does and You’re with us when we feel most alone. Be with the ones feeling alone and may they feel You near in the moment of their greatest need. Amen.

Storms Revisited

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“Never dread any consequence resulting from absolute obedience to His command. Never fear the rough waters ahead, which through their proud contempt impede your progress. God is greater than the roar of raging water and the mighty waves of the sea. ‘The Lord sits enthroned as King forever’ (Psalm 29:10). A storm is simply the hem of His robe, the sign of His coming, and the evidence of His presence.” (F. B. Meyer)

Wow. I never thought of storms that way. Either literally or figuratively.

I always thought of God going before the storm, being with me during the storm, and waiting for me after the storm. I never thought of the storm itself being a sign of His presence.

I’m wondering something else. Whenever I picture a storm, I see grieving parents hovering over the coffin of their dead child or a father holding foreclosure papers in his trembling hands. But maybe storms come in less noticeable ways.

Could a storm be that dull dread day after day that never seems to depart? Could a storm be the rut you’ve been stuck in for years that never seems to alter or change?

Some storms come and wipe off the land. Some come and go with no evidence they were ever there. But they are felt just the same.

Storms end. Dark clouds give way to sunshine. The waters eventually subside. Yet God remains.

I had some grand way I was going to tie all this together so that you would think me ever so wise, but it never materialized. All I know is that for every storm that comes, God is just as present. And He’ll still be there after the storm leaves.

These are not the most profound words I’ve ever written, but maybe someone out there who is holding on for dear life or merely dreading the monotony of the next day, these words will be something to cling to. I don’t know.

I know God is bigger than any storm. He still speaks and the winds and waves still have to obey. That’s all I know for now.

Thank you, Chris

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“God of love,
we thank you that Chris is in your gentle and loving hands,
far from the cruelty, violence and pain of our world.
When the trouble was near,
we could not understand how you seemed
to remain far away.
And yet it is to you we turn;
for in life and death
it is you alone whom we can trust,
and yours alone is the love that holds us fast.
We find it hard to forgive the deed
that has brought us so much grief.
But we know that, if life is soured by bitterness,
an unforgiving spirit brings no peace.
Lord, save us and help us.
Strengthen in us the faith and hope that Chris
is freed from the past with all its hurt,
and rests for ever in the calm security of your love,
in Jesus Christ our Lord.
All
Amen.”

Thank you, Chris.

Thank you for being a good son, husband, and father.

Thank you for leaving behind a legacy of undying love and unquenchable faith.

Thank you for inspiring me with the way you lived out your faith even in dying, to the very last moments when Jesus called you home.

Thank you for your words of encouragement to me and thinking of me when what you were going through was a million times worse than anything I’ve faced.

You’ve inspired me to be kinder and more patient with those in my life.

You’ve reminded me to hug my friends and family as often as I can and to say, “I love you” whenever I get the chance.

You’ve compelled me to not take tomorrow for granted, but to seek forgiveness and reconciliation today while there is still time.

I and so many others are better people and more in loved with Jesus for having known you.

I know at this moment Jesus has you tightly gripped in a great big ol’ bear hug as He whispers in your ear, “Well done, my good and faithful servant. Attaboy, Chris!”

Thank you, Chris.

” I know your life
On earth was troubled
And only you could know the pain
You weren’t afraid to face the devil
You were no stranger to the rain

Go rest high on that mountain
Son, your work on earth is done
Go to heaven a shoutin’
Love for the Father and Son

Oh, how we cried the day you left us
We gathered round your grave to grieve
I wish I could see the angels faces
When they hear your sweet voice sing

Go rest high on that mountain
Son, your work on earth is done
Go to heaven a shoutin’
Love for the Father and Son” (Vince Gill)

A Seat at the Table

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“He went on to tell a story to the guests around the table. Noticing how each had tried to elbow into the place of honor, he said, ‘When someone invites you to dinner, don’t take the place of honor. Somebody more important than you might have been invited by the host. Then he’ll come and call out in front of everybody, ‘You’re in the wrong place. The place of honor belongs to this man.’ Red-faced, you’ll have to make your way to the very last table, the only place left.

“‘When you’re invited to dinner, go and sit at the last place. Then when the host comes he may very well say, ‘Friend, come up to the front.’ That will give the dinner guests something to talk about! What I’m saying is, If you walk around with your nose in the air, you’re going to end up flat on your face. But if you’re content to be simply yourself, you will become more than yourself.”

“Then he turned to the host. ‘The next time you put on a dinner, don’t just invite your friends and family and rich neighbors, the kind of people who will return the favor. Invite some people who never get invited out, the misfits from the wrong side of the tracks. You’ll be—and experience—a blessing. They won’t be able to return the favor, but the favor will be returned—oh, how it will be returned!—at the resurrection of God’s people.'” (Luke 14:7-14).

I’ve observed in a few Nashville churches that the “holier than thou” club has been mostly replace by the “hipper than thou” crew. There are a few telltale signs. 1) Their pastor and/or worship leader(s) wear skinny jeans. 2) The church building doesn’t look anything like a church building. 3) The worship songs are the latest and newest songs that haven’t even hit the radio yet.

To be fair, I’ve had my share of “hipper than thou” moments, as well as “holier than thou.” I’ve caught myself a few times comparing myself with others and detected more than a little pride in my pop culture knowledge and vast and educated musical tastes.

The fact is, anyone could look at me sitting in a seat at Kairos or in a church pew and rightfully ask, “What are you doing here? You don’t belong here.”

It’s true. I’ve done stupid things. I’ve said and typed much that I regret. I’ve had such thoughts that I truly hope I never run into a mind reader who can read my past thoughts. That would be tragic and awkward.

The fact is that in the Kingdom of Heaven, no one belongs and everyone belongs.

No one deserves to be there. I certainly don’t. Everyone has sinned and sin brings death to everyone every single time (to paraphrase my pastor Mike Glenn). The only reason anyone gets in is grace.

Because of grace, everyone can get in. The door is open. The invitations are sent. Everyone is welcome and no one who wants to get in will be left out.

In my opinion, there’s no such things as bad or good Christians. There are only sinners saved by grace. I love Thomas Merton’s definition of a saint– not someone who is good, but someone who has seen the goodness of God.

Don’t think you’re so very wise and holy that you get the best seats in the house. You’ll find yourself getting knocked down a few rungs on that old ladder. Remember Jesus, who didn’t consider anything or anyone beneath Him, but lowered himself to the position of a slave and didn’t think that death on a cross was too scandalous or too much of a sacrifice to get you and me into His kingdom.

If you’ve accepted the invitation, Just be thankful you’re in. And if you’re still undecided, remember there’s always room for one more– you.

Bittersweet Memories, Regrets, and Grace

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Today, I found out that a friend of mine who has cancer is in ICU. He’s septic and may not make it through the night. And if I’m honest, I didn’t really know him in high school. Or at least I don’t remember much about him. I regret that.

Lately, he’s been one of my biggest encouragers, even though what he’s going through is a million times worse than anything I’ve ever faced. I’m praying for one more miracle.

I find myself missing my childhood best friend Nathan. I miss my Grandmother Iris and my Granddaddy Bud. I miss both Uncle Bob and Uncle Monty. I even miss my high school homeroom teacher.

I have lots of unspoken words I wish I had spoken and a lot of unfulfilled promises I intended to keep but didn’t.

I can never go back and tell these people what they meant to me. I can never see their faces and hear their funny stories and hear tales of a legacy of faith that’s been passed down. I can never ask those questions that I thought I would have time to get around to.

But grace means that I still have a chance to set that right. I can say those words to the people who are still in my life. I can make good on promises I made to family and friends in honor and memory of those whom I’ve lost and miss still.

Don’t presume that you’ll have tomorrow to say your “I love you”s. Don’t think that anybody whom you love is guaranteed a tomorrow. Whatever you need to say or do, today is the day.

I’ve said before that when you take things and people for granted, what you’re granted gets taken. And I’ve asked the question before: “If God only let you keep what you thanked Him for and were grateful for verbally, what would you have left? Who would you have left?”

There’s an insidious kind of casualness to relationships these days. Maybe it’s because of people having 5,000 friends on facebook. Maybe it’s because no one thinks they’re really and truly mortal. But once someone is gone from your life, you can never rewind the tape. You can never skip back to the last scene. You can only live with those unspoken words and unfulfilled promises.

I know this is not one of my usual frivolous and witty posts. But sitting in St. Paul’s Episcopal Church with tears rolling down my face, I was reminded that sometimes I need a wake-up call. I need to be reminded that life is precious and people are more precious. Right now, have one purring cat in my lap that I must attend to, so I bid you all adieu and a good night.

Things I Love 26: Sowing the Seeds of Love

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“A life contemplating the blessings of Christ becomes a life acting the love of Christ” (Ann Voskamp).

“…life change comes when we receive life with thanks and ask for nothing to change” (Ann Voskamp).

I think for me two of the biggest agents of change have been 1) letting go of expectations of others and 2) receiving all of life as a gift. Making this list has changed my outlook. I have too many blessings to not see God in my daily world. I have been blessed too much not to want to be a conduit of blessing to others. That said, the list picks up at #726

726) God using me in the lives of those around me who don’t know Jesus to be Jesus to them.

727) The moment when you realize that the headache is gone.

728) Unplanned naps on Sunday afternoons.

729) Any time I get a chance to have a conversation with my smart and funny friend Alex.

730) Getting compliments on my t-shirts.

731) Not being naked in public.

732) The anticipation of coming to a good part in a book I’ve already read before.

733) Old Glenn Miller recordings.

734) Those pens that have the four different colors of ink.

735) Finding something of mine that I thought was lost forever.

736) That everybody doesn’t think like I do.

737) The smell of a freshly painted room.

738) The way Jesus told the best stories.

739) Gibson’s Donuts (even though there aren’t any in Nashville . . . yet).

740) The scent of honeysuckle in the air.

741) Picking blackberries in summer.

742) Being a Bapticostalicopalean (Baptist+Pentecostal+Catholic+Episcopalian) at heart.

743) Dreams that refuse to die.

744) Goat cheese.

745) The idea of changing the world by changing one person’s world.

746) Hearing people’s stories of how Jesus found and rescued them.

747) Seeing the glow of a person coming out of the baptismal waters a new creation in Christ.

748) The smell of the tire section at Costco.

749) Road trips.

750) Capturing a moment and a feeling inside a photograph.

751) Old graveyards.

752) My book of Emily Dickinson poems that I’ve somehow managed to misplace.

753) That I’m over 3/4 of the way through my list.

754) The freedom of finally being able to forgive myself for not being perfect.

755) Wintergreen or spearmint gum.

756) A now discontinued flavor of Snapple called Ralph’s Cantaloupe Cocktail that actually tasted just like cantaloupes.

757) Memories of riding standing up on the back of my dad’s old pickup truck with Murphy the black lab in the middle, grinning like an idiot and loving every minute of it (I meant the dog, but I’m sure I was smiling a mile wide, too)

758) Finding one Dorothy Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey mystery novels in hardback at a used bookshop.

759) People who always give me the benefit of the doubt.

760) Those Market Fresh BLTs from Arby’s.