I Believe, I Believe. It’s Silly, But I Believe

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I love the little girl in Miracle on 34th Street. She’s like me and so many others who really and truly want to believe but seem to be running low on faith.

Sometimes, faith IS believing in things when common sense tells you not to. Faith really is the art of believing still even after circumstances and life events haven’t gone your way.

Maybe you’re single with no hope of a spouse in sight, yet you cling tenaciously to a slender thread of faith.

Maybe you’re married to an unbelieving spouse and it’s all you can do to mouth the words ” All things are possible” when it comes to your mate’s salvation.

Maybe it’s a wayward prodigal child or an illness that lingerd. Maybe it’s a dead end job that makes you feel like you’re living a dead end life. Maybe it’s just a general sense of hopelessness and despair.

There’s wisdom in that little girl’s mantra. Good things come to those who keep waiting and hoping. God’s best comes to those who refuse to quit despite everyone else telling them to give up.

I don’t know your specifics or your situation, but I do know God. He hasn’t broken a promise yet or failed to keep His Word. Ever.

Faith isn’t so much holding on to God, but being firmly convinced that He’s holding on to you with everything He’s got and He won’t let go.

We believe, Lord. Help our unbelief.

Amen.

God Bless Us, Every One!

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“Man’s maker was made man that He, Ruler of the stars, might nurse at His mother’s breast; that the Bread might hunger, the Fountain thirst, the Light sleep, the Way be tired on its journey; that Truth might be accused of false witnesses, the Teacher be beaten with whips, the Foundation be suspended on wood; that Strength might grow weak; that the Healer might be wounded; that Life might die.” (St. Augustine of Hippo)

It’s Christmas Day.

For me that means a contentment that goes deeper than me getting all the presents I wanted. It goes even deeper than seeing the faces of family when they unwrapped one of my presents.

For me, contentment on Christmas Day comes from knowing that the baby born on this day doesn’t live in men’s hearts only one day of the year, but all the days (I “borrowed” that line from a movie I watched again earlier today).

The true meaning of Christmas will be just as true on December 26 and beyond. It remains true 365 days of the year, every year. Even on those weird leap years.

I’m content. Even if I watch every girl I’m ever interested in fall in love with someone else, I’m content. Even if I never get that dream job, I’m content.

God became human for me so that I could be like Jesus one day. So that everything that belongs to Jesus– perfect peace, complete joy, unending love, eternal riches– could be mine. Better yet, it is mine.

Like Scrooge, I don’t deserve to be so happy, but I just can’t help it. I really can’t.

May that kind of joy be yours on this Christmas Day and on every day that follows!

I Wonder as I Wander

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I came home from a Christmas Eve service a little bummed. Not for any specific reason. Just that I was tired and thinking once again about all I didn’t have instead of what I do.

Then I saw it. I saw the setting sun reflected off the still waters of a shallow pond. It was almost as if God gave me that moment to remind me that what I DO have matters so much more than what I DON’T.

I started wondering a few things:

I wonder if Mary mourned the loss of all she gave up when God called her. I know it seems strange, almost sacreligious, to think such a thing.

But Mary was a teenager who must have had her own dreams and her own fantasies of how her life would turn out. None of them involved an unexplainable (in human terms) pregnancy or giving birth to a Son whom she would witness being unfairly tried, tortured, and publicly executed.

God’s dreams often require that we give up not just bad things, but even some good and even very good things if they’re not God’s best for us. Letting go of those things can feel like a death knell to our hearts even if we know something better is coming.

Mary could have had a normal marriage with normal children and been well-respected in her community and taken no flack. But no one would ever have remembered her name.

God has a dream for you in His heart that sometimes won’t make sense. At times, it will feel too much like a letting go and giving up of much that we hold dear. It will be painful at times, like losing a part of your heart.

The payoff is so much more than worth it. Mary got to see the Messiah, hold Him in her arms, see Him grow up, and watch Him prove that not even that horrific death could hold Him down.

She got to see with her own eyes the salvation of the world. Her own salvation.

I call that more than worth it.

My Take on Boycotts and Christmas and All That Jazz

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First of all, let me throw out this disclaimer that these comments do not in any way reflect the opinions of WordPress, A&E, The Duck Dynasty, Cracker Barrel, Starbucks, ABC, or any other establishment. They are mine.

With that in mind, let’s get started.

I’m not in any way a fan of boycotts.

I’m not saying every boycott ever is wrong and everyone who prarticipates should get automatically put on Santa’s naughty list and get coal in their stockings. Here’s what I am saying.

I think boycotts communiate what we as believers are against, not what we are for. To me, that’s not what true Christianity is about. It’s not about what we don’t do anymore or what we’ve stopped doing, but what we do– love others and become more like Jesus– because of what Jesus has already done.

Also, if we boycott a particular place of business, what if one of the results is that people lose their jobs? What if one of these is a decent guy who’s only trying to provide for his family. A guy who didn’t get the luxury of choosing a job where the company’s beliefs line up exactly with his own?

Maybe it’s a guy who goes to my church. Or yours. Is that okay? He didn’t do anything wrong other than try to make a living, yet because the company he works for is “evil,” he is out of a job.

What if God had chosen to boycott humanity? What if God had looked down at Sodom and Gomorrah and all the other epic fails of humanity and decided to give up on the whole lot of us and shop elsewhere?

There would be an empty manger in Bethlehem.

There would be no Shepherds telling miraculous stories about angel choirs and teenage virgin mothers.

There would be no crown of thorns, no purple robe, no cross, no Golgatha.

We’d all be lost without any hope.

I’m just throwing out my own opinions. I think that we don’t have to endorse everything that a company does, but we do have to love the people who work there.

I still love what my pastor said. You don’t fight hate with more hate. That’s like going to a fire and fighting it by starting another fire. You don’t fight fire with fire; you fight it with water.

You don’t fight hate with more hate; you fight it with love, because nothing in the whole universe is as strong or lasting as love.

Especially the love of God as revealed in Jesus, born in a manger on Christmas Day.

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A Prayer Before Sleep

Lord,

I confess that I am selfish and self-centered, like so many of your children. My comfort comes first and I don’t want to be inconvenienced in any way.

Remind me how you gave up all your comforts above to come dwell among us.

Remind me how you chose a poor teenage girl and a backwoods town and a dirty feeding trough to make your entrance into this world. There was nothing comfortable or convenient about Your arrival.

Remind me how the first to hear the good news weren’t royalty or the high-ranking or the well-to-do but some lowly unwashed shepherds out with their flocks. They were your first evangelists, your first preachers, your first missionaries.

Remind me how you gave up Heaven and all the rights associated with it and chose to become nothing, a slave who was faithful and obedient to the point of a tortuous and excruciating death on a cross.

Remind me how it was all for me. It was all for people just like me.

Never let me forget that you went through all that because you would rather go through hell for me than be in Heaven without me.

Tell me again how You are with me, how You will never leave me nor forsake me, how You will finish what you started in me, and how nothing is too hard for You– not even my stubborn streak and my hard-headedness or my hard-heartedness.

Thank you that Advent means you love me where you found me like I was but you refused to leave me that way.

Amen.

Random Thoughts on a December Friday

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I think I mentioned a few posts back that I was tired. I still am. That’s what working 10+ hour days will do to a person. Especially when you’re talking six days a week of those long hours.

The good news is I have a job and I have money. I’m no Donald Trump about to go buy another island, but I can pay my bills and not have to worry about the next meal. That’s what I call blessed.

I haven’t forgotten that half the world’s population lives on $2 a day or less. Most of them will go to bed hungry, malnourished, and sick from water-b0rn illnesses caused by drinking unsafe water. Half the world’s population has never made or received a phone call, something I take for granted on a daily basis. Who am I to complain about working a few extra hours here and there?

When I get tired, I get cranky. Sometimes, I get sarcastic, although I very rarely let those kinds of comments out into the open air. I’d probably have way less friends and even less of a chance of dating than I do now.

I also get way self-absorbed and a little paranoid. I don’t think so much that people are out to get me, but rather they’re out to abandon me at the first opportunity. Fears that seem irrational during the day can seem very real at night. In the same way, thoughts that I would never entertain for a second when I’m well-rested seem to take root when I am exhausted to think clearly.

It’s a good thing God loves me in all my moods and in all my phases of life and through all my ups and downs. His grace covers it all. That same God that meets me where I am and loves me where I am won’t let me stay there. I’m thankful I’m a lot less self-centered and fearful than I used to be.

I get to sleep in tomorrow. It may not seem like such a big deal to you and normally it wouldn’t to me, but when you’ve had to be at work at 6 am for the past three Saturdays, being able to sleep past 8 am is a welcome change.

I love that when I wake up in the morning, God’s mercies will be new and His faithfulness will be just as fresh as that dew on those flowers in the spring. God is good like that.

For Rosanne* and All The Others Like Her Out There

*I have changed her name slightly just for the purposes of avoiding embarrassment for anyone involved. And because it sounds and looks cool.

Rosanne,

I’ve been watching you.

I’ve seen how you desperately long for attention from certain guys. You hang around their work areas and act demure and flirty around them. Why?

Maybe you’re looking for affirmation from them. Maybe you’re looking for them to love you.

Who knows?

I know one or two of these guys have pretended to be nice to you and then proceeded to talk about you behind your back. Even call you names like “slut” and “whore.”

It’s sad that people are like that. It makes my heart hurt for you.

Didn’t you know that you have a Man crazy for you? That man is Jesus.

Didn’t you know that you have a Father who adores you and longs to hold you close and sing songs of love over you while you sleep at night?

Didn’t you know that you are not the number of guys you’ve slept with or the number of failed relationships you’ve had?

You are a real-life princess because your Father is a king. The King of the Universe, in fact. God Himself loves you just as you are and not as you should be. Or even as you would like to be.

He wants you. Just you. Even with all your mess and all your scars and all your fears. He wants you to know Him and find out that He really isn’t angry at you for all your mistakes and screw-ups.

God has a man for you who will cherish and respect and love you. A man who will treat you like royalty and not like an object. A man who will be as nice and kind when talking about you as he is when talking to you.

Oh, and one more thing before I forget.

Jesus is for you. God is for you. And I am, too.

I remain, as always, your friend.

In One Week

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Yes, sports fans. Christmas Eve is but seven days away. That’s exactly one week.

In other words, if you’re like me and haven’t even started your Christmas shopping, it’s time to get crackin’.

I recommend online shopping and avoiding any malls like the plague. I also recommend partaking of a cheg-nog (chai tea + egg nog) from Starbucks at least once during the week.

And on a side note, I’ll take a “Merry Christmas” or a “Happy Holidays” in stride. I’d rather hear a “Happy Holidays” spoken with warmth and good cheer any day of December over a “Merry Christmas” spoken with belligerence and hostility.

It’s not as much about keeping CHRIST in CHRISTmas as it is keeping His love and joy in your heart and sharing it with everyone, regardless of whether they say the right season’s greetings.

Rant over.

More than anything this Christmas, I want all my family together happy and healthy, to see my friend who’s in town for the holidays at LEAST once, to have more cheg-nogg, and to finally have time to read my new Ann Voskamp book.

I want Jesus to be at home in my heart and for people to want to meet Him after meeting me.

I want one day to be able to sleep in with no alarm set for a 5 am wake-up call.

I want each of you to have a very blessed and merry Christmas AND a happy 2014!

Untitled Blog #1,239

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Yeah, it was a Monday. A 12-hour workday Monday.

Normally, that recipe makes for one grumpy Greg. But not today.

God reminded me that joy is a choice that I must make every single day, even on a cold winter Monday at 6 am.

Thanksgiving means not seeing a long work day ahead but me having a job, not me having an annoying cough that sounds like a car that won’t start but me being awake and alive.

I still have those people I don’t get. One won’t ever speak to me unless I speak to her first and even then she sometimes doesn’t respond. One I’ve pretty much learned to leave alone and pray for from a distance.

But God still can teach me something in every circumstance and use every person I meet as a blessing, a lesson, or a caution.

I’m learning to slow down and appreciate the small moments, the short conversations, the texts, these moments of quiet grace.

I lost my joy for a little while. I took my eyes off of Jesus and got swamped by worry, fear, and lack. I bemoaned all that I didn’t have instead of practicing the art of thanksgiving for all that I do have.

Right now, I’m thankful for friends who still want to know me after I’ve gone a little nutty on them, white chocolate covered oreos, my Jeep, a faithful 13-year old feline, a warm soft bed, and for Jesus. Most of all, for Jesus.

God Loves Even Hot Messes, Right?

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I confess. I am a mess.

Ooo, I was just a poet and didn’t know it.

But I am a mess.

Sometimes, I frighten people with my friendliness. It comes across too strong a little too early. I am an acquired taste, a bit odd and unusual. And sometimes I confuse someone who is friendly and nice to everybody with someone who genuinely wants to be my friend.

In other words, I’m unique.

So are you.

Maybe you’ve tried way too hard to make someone like you or be your friend.

Maybe you’ve wondered why all the people in your life seem gradually withdraw from you and go away after a while. Maybe even family members. Or spouses. The ones closest to you who you thought would always be there.

Here’s the thing. To God, you’re beautiful. To God, you’re a priceless work of art. To God, your worth is more than the very lifeblood of His only Son, all the agony and torture of a painful death on a cross. You matter.

I’ve come to believe the right people will see your mess and stick around anyway.

The right people will call out the good they see in you and help you to see it in yourself. They will help you remember that song in your heart when you’ve forgotten the words.

Even a Van Gogh painting probably looked like a mess when it was still in progress. And that’s what you are, dear friend.

A work in progress. A masterpiece in the making. Heaven’s poetry etched onto lives, as one translation of Ephesians 2:10 puts it.

Don’t despair. Don’t give up or give in to the pressure to be someone else or (perish the very idea) try to be normal.

Take courage, dear heart. God made you to be you. He delights in you being you. He’s even helping you find your truest self, the “youest” you.

Christmas is all about messes. Do you think the manger scene was pristine? Do you think the place where Jesus arrived was a 5-star hotel? It was not.

If Jesus arrived in the middle of a messy manger, then He above anyone understands what messes look like and how to make them clean. Not better, not improved, but new.

Celebrate that you’re you and no one else. One day, you’ll find out that your part in God’s Story might not have been the leading role, but it was vital to the Story and you made a difference in the outcome.

These are just the thoughts of one hot mess directed to all the other hot messes out there.