Friday

It’s Friday But Sunday’s Comin’!

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I can’t remember a lot of what I’ve done in the last week or so, but I can still remember a sermon from Tony Campolo that I heard when I was a student at Union University way back in the early 90s. It was close to Easter that year, and I seem to remember we were getting ready to go on our spring break.

I remember the sermon was based on the text by an old black preacher named S. M. Lockridge with the refrain of “It’s Friday . . . but Sunday’s comin’!”

The gist is that Friday was when everything looked hopeless. Jesus was dead and buried. The Pharisees and other religious leaders were celebrating. The disciples were crushed and defeated. But Sunday and the empty tomb were just ahead, unbeknownst to those who were witnesses to the events on Friday.

Here’s the text from the original sermon that set my world on fire:

“It’s Friday. Jesus is arrested in the garden where He was praying. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The disciples are hiding and Peter’s denying that he knows the Lord. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is standing before the high priest of Israel, silent as a lamb before the slaughter. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is beaten, mocked, and spit upon. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Those Roman soldiers are flogging our Lord with a leather scourge that has bits of bones and glass and metal, tearing at his flesh. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The Son of man stands firm as they press the crown of thorns down into his brow. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. See Him walking to Calvary, the blood dripping from His body. See the cross crashing down on His back as He stumbles beneath the load. It’s Friday; but Sunday’s a coming.

It’s Friday. See those Roman soldiers driving the nails into the feet and hands of my Lord. Hear my Jesus cry, “Father, forgive them.” It’s Friday; but Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, bloody and dying. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The sky grows dark, the earth begins to tremble, and He who knew no sin became sin for us. Holy God, who will not abide with sin, pours out His wrath on that perfect sacrificial lamb who cries out, “My God, My God. Why hast thou forsaken me?” What a horrible cry. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. And at the moment of Jesus’ death, the veil of the Temple that separates sinful man from Holy God was torn from the top to the bottom because Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, heaven is weeping and hell is partying. But that’s because it’s Friday, and they don’t know it, but Sunday’s a coming.

And on that horrible day 2,000 years ago, Jesus the Christ, the Lord of glory, the only begotten Son of God, the only perfect man, died on the cross of Calvary. Satan thought that he had won the victory. Surely he had destroyed the Son of God. Finally he had disproved the prophecy God had uttered in the Garden and the one who was to crush his head had been destroyed. But that was Friday.

Now it’s Sunday. And just about dawn on that first day of the week, there was a great earthquake. But that wasn’t the only thing that was shaking, because now it’s Sunday.

And the angel of the Lord is coming down out of heaven and rolling the stone away from the door of the tomb.

Yes, it’s Sunday, and the angel of the Lord is sitting on that stone. And the guards posted at the tomb to keep the body from disappearing were shaking in their boots, because it’s Sunday. And the lamb that was silent before the slaughter is now the resurrected lion from the tribe of Judah, for He is not here, the angel says. He is risen indeed.

It’s Sunday, and the crucified and resurrected Christ has defeated death, hell, sin, and the grave. It’s Sunday. And now everything has changed. It’s the age of grace, God’s grace poured out on all who would look to that crucified lamb of Calvary. Grace freely given to all who would believe that Jesus Christ died on the cross of Calvary was buried and rose again. All because it’s Sunday.

It’s Friiidaaaay!

But Sunday’s coming!” (S. M. Lockridge, With Thanks to Dr. Michael G. Davis for the text version).

Cheekwood in September

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On this unseasonably fall-ish day, I went to Cheekwood Estate and Gardens for the first time ever. Mainly, it was for the Downton Abbey exhibit in the Museum of Art, but they also had gardens. Hence the name.

I confess that I am nowhere near an expert on fashion or design. I appreciate that the costumes had a lot of detail and that a lot of thought and care went into recreating the look from the upper class England just after World War I.

I was reminded that what I love more than just about anything is watching someone craft or paint or sing or play at something that they obviously love. When I see craftsmanship at its finest, I usually also see someone who does it for the sheer joy of it and not for monetary gain.

And then there were the gardens. Again, I’m no expert, but I do love seeing the riot of colors and patterns in the flowers. I could tell it was way more than someone throwing seeds randomly into the air and hoping some would stick. It took someone who loved what they did and who was a master at it.

Side note: don’t work to pay bills and make money, but work at something you love. Then it’s not a chore that you endure for 8 hours a day, always counting down the minutes to Friday at 5 pm.

My life and your life is the canvas and God is the artist. Nothing happens by chance and nothing catches the Artist off guard. He knows exactly what He’s doing at every single moment and has an end design in mind the whole time. Remember that when you’re in a dark place.

I’ll definitely be going back to Cheekwood, hopefully on a day as perfect as today. Maybe I’ll even take pictures the next time.

 

 

Repeat After Me

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I saw something that I posted a year ago on this date. It said, “Repeat after me: my current situation is not my final destination.”

That got me thinking. What else do we need to repeat to ourselves to remind ourselves of the truth when it seems that just about everything and everyone out there in social media land wants to feed us lies?

Here are a few I think that are good to repeat to yourself as often as needed:

Repeat after me: the next Presidential election will not thwart God’s eternal plans, no matter who wins. Neither Clinton nor Trump winning will take the Almighty by surprise and alter His eternal game-plan for you and me.

Repeat after me: regardless of whether this was your best week ever or your worst or somewhere in between, your identity is still not in your performance. Ultimately, your identity is still who God says you are, and that title doesn’t change with each new job title. You are still His Beloved.

Repeat after me: you matter. The fact that you woke up this morning means that you have a purpose and that God is not done with you yet. Nothing God has made yet is useless or worthless or of no value.

Repeat after me: tomorrow’s Friday. You made it through another week. Sure, Monday seemed like it would never end and by Wednesday, you weren’t sure you could hold out. Yet here you are, presumably still breathing and with a pulse, reading this like a boss. You made it.

Repeat any or all of these as needed. You can even make up your own mantras to repeat as necessary for whatever situation you’re in. Send some my way if you think of some good ones. I might need them some day.

 

TGIF

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If you’re reading this, you’ve made it through another week. Congrats! Your reward is getting to read this post.

Maybe you felt a little beat up after a long week where you started off two steps behind and were struggling to catch up for the next five days.

Maybe you felt a little overwhelmed at times by the task list that never seems to grow any smaller and that mound of papers that only seems to multiply.

Maybe you had anther one of those existential moments where you wonder if you’ve completely wasted your life and if there’s any chance that things will get better.

Here’s something to remember: God is still on His throne. God still sees you. He has not forgotten. He has not ceased watching over you with ceaseless vigilance. He is still in the business of working all things together for your good and His glory.

And tomorrow’s Saturday. You get to sleep in. Hopefully.

It also helps to keep the big picture in mind. Where you are right now is not the end of the story. As Frederick Buechner famously said, the resurrection means that the worst thing is never the last thing.

It also helps to bear in mind that God’s redemption story is way bigger than you or me. It’s about redeeming and restoring a fallen creation and setting the universe right.

I recommend during this weekend that you find a moment or two where you can be alone with your thoughts and God. Find a quiet place where you won’t be interrupted and take fifteen minutes to sit in God’s presence, not to make requests but simply to bask. Adore. Gaze. And listen.

I plan on doing that tomorrow in Franklin when I visit my favorite church building. I also plan on visiting my favorite street. But that’s beside the point.

Who you are is not your to-do list or your schedule. Who you are is not your job performance or your salary. Who you are is who God says you are– Beloved. Above all, remember that.

 

The Right Answers

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“There is great joy in having the right answer, and how sweet is the right word at the right time!” (Proverbs 15:23, VOICE)

I can’t believe that yesterday was October 21, 2015, the day Marty McFly jumps to in the movie Back to the Future Part II.

Some of the movie’s predictions came true.

There are flying hoverboards (just not as prevalent as in the movie.

There are flat-screen TVs and 3D movies (just not of Jaws 19).

OK, so the fashions never came to pass. Neither did that 80’s-themed cafe.

Most disappointing of all, the Cubs got swept out of the playoffs, ending that prediction’s chances of coming to pass. I really would have liked seeing that one fulfilled.

Am I where I thought I’d be at this point 30 years ago? Probably not. Honestly, I don’t even remember what I thought about my 40-something year old self, if I thought about it at all.

Maybe I thought I’d be firmly settled into a career. I do have a full-time job (finally), but I think any notion of working one place for a couple of decades and retiring with a pension is as extinct as those self-drying jackets with those adjustable sleeves that Marty McFly wore.

It seems anymore that nothing is permanent, nothing is for certain, and that the only constant is that things will constantly be changing. Most likely when you’ve just gotten used to everything the way it is.

Then I remember that God is forever the same.  Jesus is unchanging yesterday, today, and the rest of the days after that for as long as there are days, and beyond even that.

Oh, I almost forgot. Tomorrow’s Friday. That’s one thing that won’t ever get old for me. That’s the closest thing to a constant that I can think of. That and sleeping in on Saturday.

 

Once Again, I Got Nothin’

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It’s Friday night at 10:55 pm, and I am brain-dead. We’re talking total Night of the Living Dead, flesh-craving zombie kind of brain-dead.

I stayed home on a Friday night because it was grey and rainy. And because I was tired.

Maturity doesn’t mean that you can’t stay out until the wee small hours of the morning, but that you don’t have to. You can survive by staying at home and watching old episodes of The Facts of Life. I did.

I used to think that if I was alone by myself, there was something going on somewhere that I was missing. Not just any something, but something vitally and earth-shakingly important. Something that was bound to come up on a pop quiz later.

Now if it’s just me and Lucy the Wonder Cat hanging out, it’s still a good night. She’s the most affordable feline therapist out there, though she still tends to sleep on the job. That’s okay. She always has room to pencil me last minute into her schedule. She’s good like that.

Tonight will end like this. Me reading a bit of Go Set a Watchman and Luke 18. Some of you may be out painting the town red (or whatever other color you prefer if red is not your thing). I will be very shortly watching with great intent the backs of my eyelids.

Good night.

 

Five Years Later

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It all started on July 25, 2010. That was the day I wrote my first blog for WordPress. It all started as a sort of tribute to one of my favorite writers, Brennan Manning.

Since then, I’ve amassed 1,831 posts (counting this one). That’s one a day if you’re keeping score.

Back then, I had a full-time job at Affinion Group that I liked some days and didn’t like on others. There were days I daydreamed about what it would be like to give my two week notice and other days when I was counting my blessings (mostly those were the Fridays on which I got paid).

Now, after three years of temp jobs and no stability, I look back and see that I really had a good thing there. Of course, hindsight is 20/20. But these days, having a job– any job– is a blessing.

I imagine that there are some blogs that get as many readers on one of their posts as I’ve gotten in all my posts combined. I’m okay with that. It was truly never about the numbers. It was about me finding an outlet for what I’m discovering about myself, life, and God.

I’d keep writing these if I only had two devout readers– my mother and me. Heck, even if it were just me reading these I’d keep writing them.

I hope I have at least five more years of these blogs. My next goal is 2,000 posts, which I should hit by early 2016.

So even though I’ve said it already many times, I’ll say it again. Thank you for reading what I write. Thank you for sticking with me when I got off track occasionally and when I wrote 300 words about nothing in particular. Thanks for your likes and your comments and your shares.

50,000 views is a big accomplishment for me and all the credit goes to you.

PS I would have written this on the actual anniversary of my blog, but it slipped on me like a stealthy ninja. In other words, I forgot.

 

Holding It All Together

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I had another epiphany of sorts as I was driving home from my life group tonight. It was one of those perfect Spring nights before the sticky humidity descends and decides to stay until October. I had Willie Nelson singing me home and I was meditating on what we had just talked about in our Bible study earlier. Then this thought hit me:

When you’re barely able to hold it together, remember Who is holding you together. Maybe it’s not so much about holding yourself together as it is holding on to God who can hold you together so much better than you ever could.

I thought back to what Mike Glenn said about the glory of God. Glory comes from a Hebrew word that carries the idea of gravity or weight. He said that in essence, God is the only One worthy of worship because He is the only One capable of keeping all the bits and pieces of your life from flying apart.

Idolatry is expecting anything or anyone to hold your world in orbit other than God. Sooner or later (hopefully sooner), you will find out the hard way that nothing and no one else can.

Some of you are finding out how true this is right now. It’s one thing to know about something intellectually and quite another to know from having lived through it. As much as I hate to say it, all of us will probably at some point find out in experience how true this is. Thankfully, God’s promises and words to us always hold up even under the most trying of times.

If you’re there, my advice is don’t try to be a Lone Ranger. Let other people in and then when your world gets better, look for people who might need your encouragement and support.

That’s all I have for tonight. As always, I believe. Help my unbelief.

 

 

 

 

Ahhhh, The Weekend

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Part of me is always glad to see Friday. For me, Friday equals sleeping in the next day. And I do so love my sleep. Especially when Lucy the Wonder Kitty curls up on the pillow next to mine and purrs herself to sleep. I like that.

But I’m beginning to realize that every day that I wake up is a good day. Every day that I live through is a good day. Even Mondays.

The verse says that this is the day the Lord has made and to rejoice and be glad in it. That was the favorite verse of one of my old pastors, Bro. Livy L. Cope, and I still think of him whenever I hear or read this verse. In fact, I can almost see him as he used to stand behind the pulpit and proclaim that verse over us.

There’s a reason he liked the verse so much. It’s a reminder that you and I won’t find God in our past if all we do is relive glory days and bemoan missed chances and past mistakes. We won’t find Him in the future, either, if all we’re about is obsessing about possible doomsday scenarios and wondering about potential outcomes to all our problems.

God is here in the present. God is waiting for us, here and now, ready to speak to us and ready to show us all the blessings that He has for us right now. Blessings we will miss if we’re too busy living in either the past or the future. Most often, these will be the blessings that we can only see if we look with eyes of gratitude and joy.

True joy comes in seizing the moment, doing that carpe diem thing. True joy comes from being grateful for what you have and who you have.

But there’s still something special about Fridays. And sleeping in.

Halfway Day

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halfway day

As I’ve stated before, I am so over the whole Wednesday as “hump day” camel thing. It has run its course. The commercials were cute and clever the first 10,000 times I saw them, but they have gotten old, as well as all the other references to them.

So I propose a new moniker for Wednesday. I say we call it Halfway Day, because you’re halfway to the weekend at this point.

Ok, so maybe it won’t catch on, but I like it and I think I’ll use it even if no one else does.

I like it because I am half way to Friday. I am half way to that day that I get to sleep in and not have to fight any morning traffic.

Not that I’m complaining. I really like my job and I really like the people I work with. I do not like having to drive halfway around the world to get to work (which is an exaggeration– it only seems that way).

I’m tired, but it’s a good kind of tired. Not the kind of tired that comes from anxiety over having no money to pay the bills with. The kind of tired that comes after an honest day’s work.

So Happy Half Way Day! May the next two days be even better!