I Wish You Knew

One of my favorite artists, Keith Green, has a song entitled “Song to My Parent (I Only Want to See You There),” and I think that expresses my sentiments over so many people I know. If there’s anything I’ve learned from 53 years of being alive and over 45 of those as a child of God, is that having Jesus is so much better than not having Him. My worst days with Jesus are better than my best days without Him.

It’s not about avoiding going to hell, although hell is real. After all, God won’t force anyone to be with Him and He will respect the choices that we have made, even if we choose to be separated from Him. The best part isn’t not being in hell but looking forward to an eternity in heaven with the abundance of joy in this life as well.

There are so many stories and testimonies of people who were hopelessly lost and hopelessly addicted, but Jesus found them and now they are brand new creations. They aren’t improved versions of their old selves. They are something completely new that only God could have dreamed of and made into reality.

It’s amazing when God opens your eyes and you really see everything for the first time. Everything makes more sense. Sure, suffering and pain still exist, but now they have meaning. We still lose people we love, but now we grieve as those who have hope. I’m finally starting to get what the Apostle Paul meant when he said, “Whether quickly or not, I pray to God that both you and everyone here in this audience might become the same as I am, except for these chains” (Acts 26:29, NLT).

I’m closing with the song Keith Green wrote for his parents with the hopes of seeing them in heaven one day. He may be gone, but his legacy of music and testimony lives on:

“I need to say these things ’cause I love you so
And I’m sorry you get angry when I say that you just don’t know
That there’s a heaven waiting for you and me
I know it seems every time we talk
I’m only trying to just make you see

But it’s only that I care
I really only want just to see you there

Please try and overlook my, my human side
I know I’m such a bad example, and you know I’m so full of pride
But Jesus isn’t like that, no, He’s perfect all the way
I guess that’s why we need Him
‘Cause by ourselves, there’s just no way

And it’s only that I care
I really, really only just want to see you there
To see you there

Close the doors
They’re just not coming
We sent the invitations out a long, long, long, long time ago
We’re still gonna have a wedding feast
Big enough to beat them all
The greatest people in the world just wouldn’t come
So now we’ll just have to invite the small

And it’s only that I care
I really, really only want just to see you there

Isn’t that Jesus?
Isn’t it Joseph and Mary’s Son?
Well, didn’t He grow up right here?
He played with our children
What? He must be kidding
Thinks He’s a prophet
Well, prophets don’t grow up from little boys
Do they?
From little boys
Do they?”

Why I Still Love Being a Kairos Greeter

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I don’t know exactly when I started greeting at Kairos, but I figure that this fall will mark 8 years. It doesn’t seem like it, but the math doesn’t lie. At least if I did my math right.

I still love standing at the door and making people feel welcome as they walk through to Kairos. It may not seem like a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but I think it’s an important role.

I may be the only smiling face someone will see all day long. If someone feels unnoticed and unwanted, I could be the one who in essence says, “I see you. I notice you. You matter to me and I want you to feel like you belong here.”

I’ve seen people whose faces absolutely light up because someone (me) saw them and took time and effort to say hi to them. That’s all. Just a smile and a wave and a hello.

I’ve been on the other side of the smile, feeling invisible and wishing someone– anyone would acknowledge my existance. I have known what it feels like to feel alone in a crowd.

Hopefully, you can take this and use it in your own lives. Who knows what person whose day you can completely turn around and revolutionize just by a smile and a kind word of greeting. You don’t have to share your entire life story or become best friends with the person. Sometimes just seeing the people, looking in their faces, and validating their existence is enough.

So I hope to continue being a greeter for as long as God allows. Not so people will recognize me and think how cool and great I am. I want to be that one smiling face that makes someone’s day a little bit better and shows a little bit of God’s love to everyone I meet.

That’s all.

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).