faith

What Next?

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I’m sure you’ve been through a similar scenario in your life.

You get the call to come to your manager’s office. Or maybe to a neutral office. They sit you down and inform you that your job is being eliminated. In essence, you’ve just become very expendable.

You can call it any number of things. Let go. Laid off. Terminated. Downsized. Whatever you call it still doesn’t change the fact that you still don’t have a job to go to in the morning.

That was me at about 10:30 am today. I had no idea it was coming. I didn’t even know where the room was and had to ask somebody how to get there. I did know when I saw the manager and the HR person both sitting at the table that it probably wasn’t good news.

It still seems surreal that I lost my job today. I took one last walk around the trail close to the office and went to Starbucks and finished the book I was reading. Even now, it feels like a dream.

To me, this feels less like the end and more like a beginning. It’s less like a closing door and more like an open window.

I don’t know what’s next, but I do know that God does. If it’s possible to be anxious, excited, nervous, scared, and bewildered at the same time, then I am all of the above and then some.

I just read the verse in Psalms where it says, “I have never seen the righteous forsaken or their seed begging for bread.” It means that God takes care of His children.

Maybe this is God gently nudging me out of my nest into that unknown country, like the one God called Abraham to.

At a benefit concert tonight, I heard one of the performers say, “I want my life not to work if you take God out of the equation.”

That’s where I am. If God doesn’t come through, I’m in trouble. But I know based on the last 9,999 times that He will.

 

The Ticket

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Sometimes you are reading along in a good book and something jumps out of the text and you have to stop and re-read it at least two or three more times. That’s the way it was for me reading The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom.

She was talking about being fearful of persecution or death. Her father described it like a child with a train ticket.

The father doesn’t give the child the ticket months and months ahead, because the child might misplace it or accidentally tear it up. The father waits until they are ready to board the train until he gives the ticket to the child.

In the same way, we find that we are given grace to handle adversity not way before, but just as we are about to face it.

Jesus told His disciples not to worry about what they would say when facing hostile persecution. He promised that at just the right time, the Holy Spirit would give them the words to speak. Time after time, the disciples were able to speak out with a boldness that could only come from the indwelling power of the resurrected Christ.

Are you worried about the passing of a loved one? Are you fearful of your own death? Are you anxious about how you would handle persecution and if you would deny Christ and live rather than die professing His name?

Just trust Him for today and let tomorrow take care of itself. Pray for strength for the day and whenever death or trouble or trials come, you will find that God gives you what you need to stand up in it.

You find that your world didn’t end like you thought it would and you will hear words coming out of your mouth that only Jesus could put there. You will find strength in the exact moment you need it, usually not a moment before.

I love this quote from The Hiding Place about how each of us will face Jesus when we die:

“Dear Jesus, thank You that we must come with empty hands. I thank You that You have done all . . .on the cross, and that all we need in life or death is be sure of this.”

 

Tuesday Musings

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“For all thy blessings, known and unknown, remembered and forgotten, we give thee thanks” (from an old prayer quoted by Frederick Buechner).

Buechner calls it a crazy, holy grace. I like that. I also like it when he says that “faith is the assurance that the best and holiest dream is true after all.”

It changes how you look at faith when you realize that what you believe in is a “true myth,” as J.R.R. Tolkien explained Christianity to a then-unconverted C.S. Lewis. It’s not too good to be true; it’s too good not to be true.

The Gospel is the ultimate fairy tale come to life, the ultimate story of how the Hero has come to rescue us from the Wicked Stepmother and the Evil Queen and all the other dark and terrible forces in this world.

I forget that sometimes. I forget what I was saved from. I forget that I at one time desperately needed rescuing. I only see that my life doesn’t make sense and doesn’t always look like I want it to.

But when I look at life itself as grace, then I see the fact that I woke up at all this morning and drew breath as pretty amazing. This day, both the good and bad, from start to finish, has been a gift.

I have friends to remind me. They always make me smile and make me want to be more like Jesus. I try to bless and encourage them, but end up being far more on the receiving end of these things.

I’m still learning to live with open hands instead of clenched fists that cling to what’s mine, like my rights, my wants, my desires, my need for vindication, etc. Clenched fists can’t receive anything from anyone or from God. God only gives to those with open hands and open hearts and open minds.

I still remember the prayer a friend taught me: “Lord, I come to you with open hands. If all I get in this moment is You and the next breath, that will be enough.” I think that’s my prayer for Tuesday, May 15.

Dumb Mistakes

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I remember vividly when I was a kid waiting for my sister. She took ballet and I would wait outside the building until her practice was over. One time, I had the genius idea and thought, “When she comes out, I’m racing her to the car.”

Lo and behold, she came out and I took off running. I didn’t stop until I sat down in the car. Then I looked up. I thought, “Hey, you’re not my sister. Hey, wait a minute, this isn’t our car.” It was probably one of the most awkward situations I’ve ever been in.

Maybe your mistake wan’t as funny. Maybe it was devastating or tragic. Maybe it ruined a friendship or even a marriage. Maybe you feel like you’re still paying for that mistake made so many years ago.

You’re not alone. Moses messed up royally. He got angry with God’s people and spoke as if he and not God were responsible for giving the Israelites water and helping them out of jams time and time again.

Then there’s David, who committed adultery with Bathsheeba, lied to and tried to deceive her husband, then finally had him killed. I think that qualifies as an epic fail.

The good news is that your story doesn’t have to end with failure. God offers forgiveness and a fresh start if you own up to what you did and are willing to change and go in a different direction.

I love what David wrote in Psalm 51 after he confessed to his own sin and repented of it:

“Generous in love—God, give grace! Huge in mercy—wipe out my bad record.

Scrub away my guilt,

soak out my sins in your laundry.

I know how bad I’ve been;

my sins are staring me down.

You’re the One I’ve violated, and you’ve seen

it all, seen the full extent of my evil.

You have all the facts before you;

whatever you decide about me is fair.

I’ve been out of step with you for a long time,

in the wrong since before I was born.

What you’re after is truth from the inside out.

Enter me, then; conceive a new, true life.

Soak me in your laundry and I’ll come out clean,

scrub me and I’ll have a snow-white life.

Tune me in to foot-tapping songs,

set these once-broken bones to dancing.

Don’t look too close for blemishes,

give me a clean bill of health.

God, make a fresh start in me,

shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.

Don’t throw me out with the trash,

or fail to breathe holiness in me.

Bring me back from gray exile,

put a fresh wind in my sails!

Give me a job teaching rebels your ways

so the lost can find their way home.

Commute my death sentence, God, my salvation God,

and I’ll sing anthems to your life-giving ways.

Unbutton my lips, dear God;

I’ll let loose with your praise.”

All I can add to that is

Amen.

Christian Reciprocity Revisited, Or What I Learned from Kairos Roots Tonight

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I feel like Mr. Rogers. “The word for today is reciprocity. Can you say reciprocity, boys and girls? Very good.”

Basically, the word means give and take. It’s all about giving and receiving.

There will be times when God blesses you. You will pick up your Bible and truths and insight will practically jump off the pages. You will have an unexpected bonus from work or a pay raise or some other financial blessing. You will be in a good position to give.

Then there will be other times when you read the Bible and it might as well be in Greek for what you get out of it. You have an overdraft or two at the bank and your bank account has a rather unpleasant negative sign in front of the number. Then you are in a good place to learn how to receive.

Even life experiences can be shared in the same way. You go through tragedy and heartbreak at times and find others who are willing to share your load and get you through. Later,  you are able to walk with someone else who is going through the same valley.

I do believe that we are most like Jesus when we are giving freely, expecting nothing in return, to those least likely to reciprocate the favor.

I also believe that it is a good lesson to learn to receive gratiously and humbly. To not receive is to rob someone else of the blessing of giving out of pride or false self-sufficiency.

The bottom line is that all we have is from God. We didn’t earn one red cent apart from His grace and provision. In the end, we’re not owners. We’re stewards, taking care of what really belongs to God.

Lord, give us Your eyes to see the need and Your generous heart to reach out with what You gave us to help meet that need. May we not give just our resources and our time but our very lives away for the cause of Christ every single day for the rest of our lives. Amen.

A Good Word

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I thought that since it was Monday and I wasn’t feeling particularly creative, I’d have a guest blogger for the day. You might have heard of him. He’s King David, best known for writing a few songs we call Psalms. Here goes:

“O my soul, bless God. From head to toe, I’ll bless his holy name!

O my soul, bless God,

don’t forget a single blessing!

He forgives your sins—every one.

He heals your diseases—every one.

He redeems you from hell—saves your life!

He crowns you with love and mercy—a paradise crown.

He wraps you in goodness—beauty eternal.

He renews your youth—you’re always young in his presence.

God makes everything come out right;

he puts victims back on their feet.

He showed Moses how he went about his work,

opened up his plans to all Israel.

God is sheer mercy and grace;

not easily angered, he’s rich in love.

He doesn’t endlessly nag and scold,

nor hold grudges forever.

He doesn’t treat us as our sins deserve,

nor pay us back in full for our wrongs.

As high as heaven is over the earth,

so strong is his love to those who fear him.

And as far as sunrise is from sunset,

he has separated us from our sins.

As parents feel for their children,

God feels for those who fear him.

He knows us inside and out,

keeps in mind that we’re made of mud.

Men and women don’t live very long;

like wildflowers they spring up and blossom,

But a storm snuffs them out just as quickly,

leaving nothing to show they were here.

God’s love, though, is ever and always,

eternally present to all who fear him,

Making everything right for them and their children

as they follow his Covenant ways

and remember to do whatever he said.

God has set his throne in heaven;

he rules over us all. He’s the King!

So bless God, you angels,

ready and able to fly at his bidding,

quick to hear and do what he says.

Bless God, all you armies of angels,

alert to respond to whatever he wills.

Bless God, all creatures, wherever you are—

everything and everyone made by God.

And you, O my soul, bless God!”

All kidding aside, I hope this speaks to you as it did to me when I first read it. By the way, if you don’t recognize it, it’s Psalm 103 in The Message translation.

Communion Prayer

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Lord, we come to Your table remembering what You did for us. We remember how much you gave of your body and blood and sweat and tears.

Help us to not sanitize the Cross to make it palatable and PG. Help us to see You bloody and battered up on that Cross, hardly recognizable as human (Isaiah 52).

You didn’t give only a little part of Your body and a little part of Your blood. You gave all.

Help us not to give You the leftovers of our hearts and lives, but help us to give everything, to give until it hurts and to keep giving until it is all gone.

We take the broken bread, representing Your broken body, by which we are made whole.

We take the cup, representing your shed blood, by which we are made clean.

Help us never to take this for granted.

May we be brought to tears every time by Your awesome sacrifice and may we be undone by what You did for us.

May we leave Your table a little more like You than when we arrived.

Amen.

An Awesome Definition for Worship

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“Worship is extravagant love and extreme submission.”

I love that definition.

Too often, worship is all about singing songs. It’s all too easy to sit back and critique the song choices and musical styles and whether or not those around me are worshiping the “right” way.

In Nashville, it’s easy to let worship become all about the level of musicianship and charasmatic personality. It’s easy to manipulate a crowd into a frenzy if you’re talented enough, but that’s not worship.

Worship is extravagant love. I can’t help but thinking about the woman who poured the expensive perfume on Jesus’ feet and then wiped those feet with her hair. That was more than inconvenient. That was extremely costly and humiliating. That’s worship.

It’s also extreme submission. It’s surrendering my own illusion of self-control and admitting that I have a desperate need for God. And it starts long before you enter the sanctuary and the church service and doesn’t end when you pass the exit doors on your way out into the parking lot.

Worship is not an event, but a lifestyle of saying, “Not my will, but Thine.”

I don’t normally do this, but I posted a link to a fantastic blog about the nature of worship that I ran across today.

http://allsonsanddaughters.com/2012/03/26/art-in-worship-join-the-conversation/

I challenge to you read it and let it soak into your very being.

If I’m truly worshipping in Romans 12:1-2 fashion and being transformed by the renewing of my mind and offering my body as a living sacrifice, then it won’t matter whether I’m singing the most current and trendy modern worship songs or the old, old hymns.

It won’t matter if there’s a rockin’ worship band, or a guy with a guitar, or an orchestra and choir, or just a piano and organ.

It will be worship. It will declare the great worth of God to the world.

After all, like the song says, it’s not about me. It’s all about You, Jesus.

My Confession Booth (Stolen from Blue Like Jazz)

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image

I love the fact that they kept the confession booth from the book entitled Blue Like Jazz for the movie of the same name. I also love the fact that it is a very non-religious Christian movie.

The idea behind the confession booth is not receiving confession, but in giving one. Sorta like this.

We confess that we’ve done a poor job of representing God and Who He is. We’ve made Him in our image and had Him hate all the same people we do, people whose sins we magnify and villify because those aren’t the sins we struggle with.

We confess that we’ve made our faith a means to a political platform and getting our man elected. We’ve made our faith a means to more effectively climbing the corporate ladder and making even more money.

We confess that while we look down our noses at unbelievers, we don’t look much different. Our vocabulary and our lifestyles are too much like theirs for them to take our message seriously.

We confess that we’ve replaced the holier-than-thous with hipper-and-trendier-than thous, and made faith an exclusive club that you have to dress the right way and know the right words and the right people to be able to join.

We confess that we’re so proud of knowing God and have forgotten that the only reason we know Him is because He first loved us and revealed Himself to us. We confess that without His revelation, we’d be completely in the dark, the blind leading the blind, banging our heads against the same stone walls.

We confess that for too long too many of us have been ashamed of this Jesus who saved us and wasn’t above being made a spectacle in front of the crowds so that we could have life better than we thought was possible.

We confess that we have tried to give bumper-sticker answers to complex questions and given people Bible band-aids for deep soul wounds.

We confess that we’re not perfect people. We’re not better than anyone else or more holy or more likeable. We confess that we are the worst of sinners who have found out what it means to be forgiven and free. We want you to know what that looks and feels like, too.

I confess that I need to re-read Blue Like Jazz sometime in the near future because the movie reminded me how much I didn’t remember from the book.

I confess that it is way past my bedtime and I will turn into a flesh-craving zombie if I don’t get to bed in five minutes, so GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS!

My Favorite Bible

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I have to admit it. I have an addiction. Of all things, I’m addicted to collecting Bibles, particularly the pocket-sized ones. So far, I have a NASB, ESV, NIV, RSV, NRSV, HCSB, NLT, KJV, NKJV, NCV, CEV, ASV, Amplified, Pbillips, and the Message. That’s a lot of initials. And a lot of Bibles.

My favorite Bible that I own didn’t cost very much. It looks like it didn’t cost very much. But I love it.

It’s a Greek-English Interlinear Bible with the Revised Standard Version on the side margins. That means it has the Greek text and underneath each Greek word is the closest English word. It’s as literal a translation as you can get.

It takes a bit of getting used to, as the word order in Greek sentences isn’t always structured like it is in English. Often, the most important words come first, not the usual subject-verb-type structure.

For me, it is as close as I get to reading the original Greek New Testament. I can still sound out the Greek words, but I’d be lost without those little English words underneath.

The point of all that is for you to find the one you like and read it. It could be a literal translation or one of those dynamic equivalents, which are “thought for thought,” rather than “word for word.” Heck, it could even be a paraphrase, like the infamous Message version by Eugene Peterson.

Just find one that speaks to you, that makes the Word of God come alive to you and makes you fall in love with it. Find one that won’t be just mere words on a page, but words that change your life.

I heard once that if you have a Bible that’s falling apart, it usually means that your life isn’t. I don’t mean bad things never happen when you’re soaked in Scripture, but you have a solid foundation from which to anchor down in the stormy seasons of life.

By the way, my Bible doesn’t look anywhere as good as the Bible in this picture. But what matters is what’s inside. Kinda the same for you and me, don’t ya think?