Finding the Blessing

Tonight as usual, I served at Room in the Inn at Brentwood Baptist Church. We hosted 24 homeless men, all of whom were thankful to be out of the cold and the rain on the first Monday night in December.

Later, as we were getting ready to start our Bible study, I overheard one of the men say that he had spent the better part of last week attempting to sleep in a port-a-potty. That broke my heart. It also made me realize how blessed I am to have a bed and a roof, two things that I have been known to take for granted.

The old adage goes that the man with worn out shoes might not feel blessed, but to the man with no shoes, he is. And the man with no shoes is blessed in comparison to the man with no feet.

Obviously, the point is not comparison. I’m no better than anyone else because I sleep in a bed. I suppose that the takeaway is that all of us are blessed. It’s only when we stop the competition and the entitlement mentality that we realize what we have that so many others don’t.

Above all, I recall how the King of heaven gave it all up to be born to two peasants in a backwater Bethlehem village. I remember how this Son of God lowered Himself to being a slave so that we who have been enslaved to sin might be set free. I see Him on the cross willingly giving up His own life that I might live and have that life abundant.

Then who am I to complain? Who am I to think that my life would only be better if I had more possessions or money or power or fame? Is not what I have enough? Didn’t God give to me and all believers eternal life and everything needed for godliness?

That man who slept in the port-a-potty could have been bitter. But he chose to see himself as blessed because of God’s love for him. I think we’d all do well to remember how blessed we are at every moment we draw in a breath because of God’s grace.

God and the Next Breath

“Lord, I come to you with empty hands. If all I have today is You and the next breath, that will be enough.”

A friend taught me that prayer a long time ago, and I was reminded of it today seeing it in my Facebook memories. I think that prayer of gratitude and dependence is the perfect antidote to this culture of pervasive entitlement and greed.

Really, all I bring to God is a pair of empty hands. I bring nothing. Anything in me or from me that’s any good at all was first a gift from God to me. All that I have that wasn’t given to me by God is God Himself, and even that is a gift.

If all I have in the next 24 hours is God and nothing else but the next breath, that’s enough. If I have all the riches in the world and all the knowledge in the world and not God, I have nothing. I seem to recall a Bible verse about gaining the whole world and losing your soul in the process being futile.

Basically, every moment from here to eternity is a gift. I didn’t earn the next breath. I don’t deserve the next breath. God’s grace is what sustains me and keeps me going.

I think if I lived like I believed that, there’d be a lot less anxiety and a lot more adoration. There’d be a lot less worry and a lot more worship. There’d be a lot less talk about the weather and sports and politics and more of me sharing the goodness of God out of the overflow of a heart made full by gratitude.

Lord, I really do come to You with empty hands. If all I get from You today is You and the next breath, that’s enough. I’m good. In fact, I’m more than good. I’m blessed. Amen.

Little Victories

So last fall I did something a bit offbeat. I bought a tiny tent for Peanut. It was $20, so I figured it would be worth it to give Peanut yet another napping spot where she could hide from the world while she gets her 23 hours of beauty rest.

I didn’t figure on the required assembly, so it sat on my bed for a while before I finally dug up the courage to read the instructions and put it together. More accurately, I read the instructions, couldn’t figure them out, messaged the company, got sent an instructional Youtube video, watched the video, then put the tiny tent together.

Then Peanut showed her appreciation by sleeping right next to it. A couple of times, she poked her head in to look around but decided she wasn’t having any of it. Finally, today I put in a different blanket that she’s used before and voila! She finally decided to try it out.

Sometimes, life can be hard. There can be very little going right for you. That’s when it’s important to celebrate the little victories. Did you get to the end of the month with all your bills paid? Victory. Did you get to the end of the month, period? Victory.

Do you have a roof over your head? Victory. Did you have at least one warm meal today? Victory. Were the clothes you wore today clean? Victory. See? You have lots of little victories to celebrate if you think long and hard enough.

God is good even when times are tough. God is working even when we can’t see it or feel it. Once we get over our American entitlement mentality, we see that every single good thing in life is a gift from God. Sometimes the trials themselves can be gifts if they cause us to look up in prayer and desperation. Pain can be God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world, including those of us who profess to follow Him (with much thanks to C. S. Lewis for that one).

Give thanks for all the little victories, and maybe just maybe you’ll see some bigger breakthroughs in your life. At least you’ll see God more clearly.

A Lenten Prayer That Pretty Much Works Year Round

“The Jewish people have a beautiful prayer form, a kind of litany to which the response is always “Dayenu!” (It would have been enough!).

They list, one by one, the mirabilia Dei, the wonderful works of God for their people and themselves, and after each one, shout out DAYENU! As if to say, ‘How much is it going to take for us to know that God is with us?!’ It builds satisfaction instead of feeding dissatisfaction.

If we begin our day with any notion of scarcity, not-enoughness, victimhood, or ‘I deserve,’ I promise you the day will not be good—for you or for those around you. Nor will God be glorified.

Maybe we all should begin our days with a litany of satisfaction, abundance, and enoughness. God, you have given me another day of totally gratuitous life: my health, my eyes, my ears, my mind, my taste, my family, my freedom, my education, clean water, more than enough food, a roof over my head, a warm bed and blanket, friends, sunshine, a beating heart, and your eternal love and guidance.

To any one of these we must say, ‘And this is more than enough!'” (Father Richard Rohr).

I think I need to print this out or at least have it handy on one of my mobile devices so I can pull it out as a reminder when I fall prey to the entitlement/victim mindset and start feeling sorry for myself (which is far more often than I’d like!)

The prayer that my friend me comes to mind: “Abba Father, I come to you with empty hands. If all I have is you and the next breath, that will be enough.”

If you pray that prayer, anything extra at the end of the day will be like icing on the cake. Or to put it another way, it’s all grace.

 

 

What I Need on Mondays

w-Giant-Coffee-Cup75917

 

I need one of these first thing on a Monday morning, filled with my delightful blend of coffee, creamer, and sugar. Heavy on the creamer and sugar and light on the coffee. Or as I like to call it– coffee-flavored sugar milk.

I used to not drink coffee at all. Then I graduated to frappacinos, then to cappacinos, then to lattes, and finally to the grown-up drink. The other grown-up drink.

Mondays come awfully early in the week, so I need a cup about the size of the one pictured above. I also need about 8 hours more sleep. And maybe a vacation.

But most of all I still need grace. Every moment of the day, every day of my life.

It’s funny how I start to think I’m entitled to grace. The very nature of grace means that no one is entitled to it, no one deserves it, and no one should expect it because it is still the unmerited favor of God. Or as I’ve heard it put– God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense.

So that’s it. I need more sleep, a vacation, a ridiculously-sized cup o’ joe, and grace. Not necessarily in that order.

 

December 23 . . . Two Days After My Supposed Last Day on Earth

It turns out that the Mayans were off a bit. More likely, the people who stay up late at night thinking about ancient Mayan calendars were off a bit.

The world didn’t end on December 21. There was no apocalypse. Nothing changed all that much.

There have been days when I’ve felt like my world was ending. Some days, I wished the world would end.

But today, I am thankful for another day to be alive and healthy and blessed. I realize more and more how each day is a gift, pure and simple. I don’t deserve it, I’m not entitled to it, and I’m not guaranteed the next one.

You wouldn’t know it sometimes by the way I gripe and complain about my slow internet or my lousy work hours. I’ve focused on what I don’t have for so long, it’s hard to retrain my thinking to what I do have.

We as a culture are obsessed with everything that we don’t have, everything we’re supposed to have, and how we can spend all our time and energy and money getting those things.

One of the most counter-cultural things anybody can do is to say, “No thanks, I have enough,” and be content. To be satisfied with what you have and not always striving for more.

So at least for today I am content. I have all my Christmas shopping done. I have things like food, clean water, shelter, transportation, and health that so many don’t have and work so hard to get.

I am blessed.

I still love what my pastor said. It goes like this. If God came to me today and said, “Greg, you’ve used up all your blessings I had for you and I have nothing left to give you for the rest of your life,” I could honestly say, “I’m good.” That’s contentment.

I’m not there yet, but I’m a whole lot closer than I used to be.

How about you?