Friends, Frothy Monkey, and Franklin

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A lady I work with remarked that the only good cats were dead ones. Obviously, she’s not a fan of cats. Lord, forgive them for they know not what they’re missin’.

I had another great night in downtown Franklin. I had a spectacular roast beef and provolone sandwich at my very favorite place to eat on Earth, which as you should know by now is McCreary’s Irish Pub. Seeing as I chose to eat at the optimal senior citizen dining time of 4:30 pm, I got prime seating on the patio on a picturesque Autumn afternoon.

Later, I ran into one of my favorite friends who always makes my heart happy when I see her and never fails to encourage me and make me smile. She and her dad were headed over to Sweet CeCe’s for some fro-yo (that is frozen yogurt for the novices out there). I recommended the pumpkin pie flavor, which is exceedingly delightful.

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I had a sweet potato pie latte at Frothy Monkey and sat on the patio while I sipped my little cup of heaven and reveled in just how very blessed I am. If I counted all my blessings, I’d easily surpass the 1,500 I came up with in my Things I Love series. I’d lose count before I ran out of blessings.

I got treated to an organ concert at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. Well, it was more like the organ dude practicing and me showing up at the right time. I prayed a bit, sat still and silent for a bit, and just tried to be in the moment. A girl sat directly across from me, deep in prayer. I still don’t know who she was or what burdens she carried, but I did my best to intercede for her and agree with her in prayer for whatever she was asking from God. It felt like genuine New Testament Church.

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I had ol’ Hank Williams (Sr., not Jr.) providing the soundtrack to my ride home. With the windows down and the volume cranked up. It was magical.

Now I’m sitting here typing this on my iPad while my cat reposes in my lap. To many people’s great and lasting disappointment, she’s not dead. Only very sleepy. Probably dreaming of tuna again.

 

All Things Cornhole

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Tonight, KSA ( that is Kairos Sports Adventure for the uninitiated) had a Cornhole tournament and chili cook off. What is cornhole, you say?

First off, it is not this.

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Or this.

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Cornhole is “a serious toss game played in leauges on the West Side of Cincinnati Ohio. The game and targets are very similar to Bag’O, a commercial game from the East Coast U.S..” All that to say it involves tossing a bean bag at a rectangular board with a hole cut out in it.

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Mostly, it’s about getting together with friends and having fun. It’s about sharing life.

I met some people tonight that I hope I’ll become friends with over time.

And FYI, if you want to know what cornhole really is, didn’t look it up on google. Ask someone who’s played before. Let’s just say there are some things you can never unsee (or unread).

I am learning to find joy in the minutiae of life, in the small moments and conversations. I am learning that gratitude and thanksgiving unlock the ability to see God more in these moments and find His joy everywhere.

Life is the miracle of breathing grace in and out, of being present to the present, of experiencing fully every second you get from God.

Thank you to Stephanie and Emily and everyone else who made tonight possible. It was indeed a good night.

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A Good Non-Gaming Game Night

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The Green Hills Community Group scheduled a game night for tonight. Sounds like fun, right?

It was. The only minor complication was that it wasn’t really a game night. Only four people showed up, so we attempted Catch Phrase, but ended up doing something much better.

We had a bit of church.

I don’t mean we broke out the hymnals or burst into song. No one got up and preached and no one testified. Well, at least not in a Pentecostal way.

We had meaningful conversations and got to know each other a little bit better. To me, that’s church, where we figure out life together.

I couldn’t have asked for three better people to spend a rainy Friday night with. Even if I was tired and a bit dizzy, I still had a blast.

Life is like that. You show up expecting one thing, but get something else entirely. You make plans based on where you think you’ll be in ten years, but ten years later, all those plans and expectations are moot.

God rarely meets my expectations. He rarely does anything according to my timetable.

What He does always exceeds my expectations and His timing may not be mine, but it is always perfect. He gives me what I need exactly when I need it and not a moment too soon or a second too late.

I think if I have any expectations going forward, it’s that God will continue to astound and amaze me at how He turns setbacks and quiet nights into blessings.

He’s so very good at that.

On a Night Like This 3

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My friends and I played sand volleyball again tonight. For the record, no one confused any of us with professional athletes, but we had fun. And that was the point of the evening.

I’ve noticed all of us have improved over time. We each have grown more confident in our own abilities and brought out the best in those around us. We’ve learned to trust each other and we know what any given person’s strengths and weaknesses are. We’ve learned to play as a team.

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I really believe that’s Church. We figure out life together. We offer encouragement in the face of failure and mistakes and we cheer for successes and victories. We know that in order to win, we need all of us together, on the same page with the same endgame in mind.

We learn to work together, knowing that we can be strong for others in areas where they’re weak. We learn to admit where we need help and to humble ourselves enough to ask for that help.

And as simplistic as it sounds, the most important part of living is showing up. It’s being present in your own life and not just a spectator watching and biding your time until you get to that next phase. It’s about intentionally choosing to engage with those around you and breathe in the night air and find joy in the details and to see God at work right where you are right when you’re there.

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Plus, it helps if you can laugh at yourself. I think my shining moment was tripping over my own two feet in a frantic effort to get to the ball. Did I mention I’m not Olympic material?

No one will remember next week which teams won or lost. No one will remember whose teams thry were on. But we will remember a perfect night with good friends and laughter and good memories. And best of all, joy.

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A Perfect Night for Sand Volleyball

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I had a blast playing sand volleyball tonight. Even though my teams only won once and I sweated like the pig that knows he’s about to be dinner.

It’s not about my mad volleyball skills. In fact, none of us are all that good. Well, maybe one or two. But we have fun and we cheer each other on and we laugh with each other instead of at each other. It never gets overly competitive and no one gets mad at anybody about a bad hit or that occasional moment when someone forgets that they’re in the middle of an actual game.

My favorite to watch (and my new friend) is a girl named Katie. She has an infectious joy and is one of those people who smile with their whole face. It’s hard to not be happy around her. I love the way my friends J.D. and Julie exhibit what a good marriage is and how two married people can be best friends too. Troy is one of the most consistent players who’s as good as any player out there yet able to laugh at himself when he messes up.

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The best part is that we root for each other, even if we’re on opposite teams. I don’t mind losing if I see the people on the other team enjoying themselves and getting in a good hit or two. As long as it’s not a complete blowout.

I love more than anything watching people who get better each time they play and really start believing in themselves. There’s nothing better for somebody than a little taste of success.

I like to think that Jesus roots for His children that way. He knows we’re frail and too often choose badly and fall down. He knows that we still have that old sin nature that sometimes comes out when we make poor decisions and know something is wrong yet  do it anyway.

I heard in church today that we don’t need empathy. We don’t need someone who feels bad with us when we feel bad. What we need is Somebody who knows what we’re feeling but also has the power to do something about it. Somebody who has the power to transform us and our choices.

Jesus is the best because not only does He root for us, but He sees us not as we are but how we could be at our very best. Not only that, but He is changing us into our very best selves. That is, changing us to be just like Jesus.

Things I Love 31: That Black Horse and Those Cherry Trees

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Going through some boxes, I found my old merit badge requirement book from when I was a Boy Scout. I didn’t realize it at the time, but life was so much more simple then. Relationships were definitely less complicated. I had a lot less to worry about, thanks to loving family who took care of my needs and left me free to enjoy my childhood. And cartoons were better back then. Just saying. On that note, I move on to #906.

906) Homemade bread with homemade jam.

907) Finishing a game of gin rummy with a positive score.

908) A sense of belonging and being wanted.

909) Those people who care enough about me to actually make time for me in their lives.

910) Grape jelly.

911) When someone sees you at your worst and chooses to stick around and love you in spite of the darkness.

912) My vintage California Raisins beach towel.

913) Peach and/or blackberry cobbler with vanilla ice cream.

914) Really old hymnals.

915) All the Cosby Show episodes before Denise left the show.

916) Resting in the greatness of my Savior’s loving heart.

917) The peace that comes with true surrender.

918) Letting go so that my open hands are ready to receive something better.

919) Embracing the mystery of God in all His love and holiness and not just the parts I understand or that make me feel warm and fuzzy.

920) Another good night of fellowship with the Green Hills Community Group.

921) Making Thursdays my designated downtown Franklin night.

922) Being okay with unresolved tension and the cliffhangers in life.

923) Laying in my bed in the dark late at night listening to good music.

924) Taking my shoes off and wading through the creek at Crockett Park.

925) The relief of Aloe Vera on sunburn.

926) Taking a spoonful of local honey to help with my allergies.

927) Cake batter.

928) Being alone but not lonely.

929) Movies like Gladiator and Braveheart.

930) Taking naps on the couch.

931) When it’s there’s still daylight after 8 pm.

932) The way my grandfather told the best stories.

933) When pants that used to be too tight are now too loose.

934) Not having to write in cursive anymore if I don’t want to.

935) That I’m not fighting for victory but fighting from the victory Jesus has already won.

936) That moment when I’m hopelessly lost and I see a familiar landmark and realize I know where I am.

937) Trying to wrap my brain around the concept of eternity.

938) The prayer I learned from Brennan Manning that I repeat daily– “Abba Father, I belong to You.”

939) Sighing the deep sigh of contentment at close of day.

940) That face.

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A Place to Belong

“That’s plain enough, isn’t it? You’re no longer wandering exiles. This kingdom of faith is now your home country. You’re no longer strangers or outsiders. You belong here, with as much right to the name Christian as anyone. God is building a home. He’s using us all—irrespective of how we got here—in what he is building. He used the apostles and prophets for the foundation. Now he’s using you, fitting you in brick by brick, stone by stone, with Christ Jesus as the cornerstone that holds all the parts together. We see it taking shape day after day—a holy temple built by God, all of us built into it, a temple in which God is quite at home” (Ephesians 2:19-22).

That’s what everybody is looking for, isn’t it? A place to belong? A place where we feel welcomed? I think so. We all want to be a part of something that is bigger than our individual selves.

No one likes to feel left out or unwanted. No one wants to feel ostracized and rejected.

That’s the beautiful part of the Gospel. God wants you to be a part of what He’s doing in the world. He wants you. Once you say YES to Him, you’re no longer a stranger or an alien or an outcast. You belong. You matter. You are now a child of the King.

That’s what the Church really is. A community of nobodies that God chose and gave a new name and purpose to. Strangers who now belong to God and to each other.

Maybe you know what it’s like to be picked last for a kickball team (or not picked at all). Maybe you know what it feels to be the only one not invited to a party. Maybe you know what it’s like when it seems like everyone is talking to everyone else in a group but you.

You have a purpose. You have a God that picked you because He wanted you and placed you in a family whose bond is stronger than flesh and blood.

You belong.

 

 

Life Together: A Review of Sorts

I just finished reading Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a short book on Christian community and fellowship. Basically, to sum the book up in one sentence:oh, oh, we need each other (borrowed from Sanctus Real).

I found this observation to be very interesting. We can’t truly be in community and fellowship unless we’re comfortable being alone. If we’re always needy and clingy when it comes to others, we hinder true communion. But if we come out of a healthy self-awareness, we add to the fellowship rather than drain it.

Also, we can’t truly be alone without being in community. Even when in solitutude, we carry our brothers and sisters with us in our hearts and their prayers carry us. The whole Lone Ranger/Marlboro Man/go-it-alone type Christian is a myth that is exposed in the first storm we face.

I thought this quote from Bonhoeffer perfectly describes the freedom from truly being in open and honest community with others:

“The most experienced psychologist or observer of human nature knows infinitely less of the human heart than the simplest Christian who lives beneath the Cross of Jesus. The greatest psychological insight, ability, and experience cannot grasp this one thing: what sin is. Worldly wisdom knows what distress and weakness and failure are, but it does not know the godlessness of man. And so it also does not know that man is destroyed only by his sin and can be healed only by forgiveness. Only the Christian knows this. In the presence of a psychiatrist I can only be a sick man; in the presence of a Christian brother I can dare to be a sinner. The psychiatrist must first search my heart and yet he never plumbs its ultimate depth. The Christian brother knows when I come to him: here is a sinner like myself, a godless man who wants to confess and yearns for God’s forgiveness. The psychiatrist views me as if there were no God. The brother views me as I am before the judging and merciful God in the Cross of Jesus Christ.”

Why I Am a Fan of Henri Nouwen

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“In solitude we can slowly unmask the illusion of our possessiveness and discover in the center of our own self that we are not what we can conquer, but what is given to us. In solitude we can listen to the voice of him who spoke to us before we could speak a word, who healed us before we could make any gesture to help, who set us free long before we could free others, and who loved us long before we could give love to anyone. It is in this solitude that we discover that being is more important than having, and that we are worth more than the result of our efforts. In solitude we discover that our life is not a possession to be defended, but a gift to be shared. It’s there we recognize that the healing words we speak are not just our own, but are given to us; that the love we can express is part of a greater love; and that the new life we bring forth is not a property to cling to, but a gift to be received” (Henri J.M. Nouwen).

Henri Nouwen wrote that every single person ever born deals with aloneness, because every single one of us is unique and no one else will ever have our exact problems and issues and hang-ups and phobias.

He said we can either see our aloneness as a wound and thus turn it into loneliness or view it as a gift, where it becomes solitude. In solitude is where we can learn to be still and quiet and know that in truth, we are never really alone. God is with us.

Solitude makes us better people, better neighbors, better friends, better spouses, better lovers, and better disciples. We’re not clinging to each other out of a desparate need to not be lonely, but because we are finally comfortable with who we are in the times when we are alone with no noise to drown out our own thoughts.

That is my own wording of what I’ve been reading in The Only Necessary Thing, a compilation of Nouwen’s thoughts on living a prayerful life. Seriously, if you don’t read another one of my blogs, but read one of his books, I will be supremely happy. He’s that good.

That’s all for tonight. Let me know what you are reading that touches you deeply at the soul level. Maybe it’s a book that will do the same for me. And may the God of the earthquake and the God of the thunder also be the God of your silence and the God of your solitude. Amen.

Bedtime thoughts

Jesus said, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments” (Matthew 22:37-40).

That’s it. Love God and love others.

But for you to love God, you have to know the reality that God already loves you. For you to love others as yourself, you have to love yourself. Ultimately, you can’t do it. Well, I will only speak for myself here and say that I can’t love God or anybody else, even me, on my own strength. I need Jesus in me, pouring out His agape love, or else I am empty and cold and love-less.

Sometimes, God calls you to love yourself as you love your neighbor. Sometimes, it’s easier to love someone else than to love that person you hang around with every minute of every day. That person who looks back at you in the mirror with accusing eyes that speak of all the impure thoughts, mixed motives, and selfish ambition.

That’s when you and I have to believe what God says about who we are over what we see and think and feel. As a friend of mine told me once, “What you think and feel will lie to you.” But God never will.

God is true. God is love. And God loves you.

And you have all the power of Christ that overcame the grave in you. You have His perfect righteousness that covers your own wretched self-righteous rags of filth.

So be free to love. Love God, love others and love you.

As always, I believe. Help my unbelief.