Takeaways From Another Immersion Conference

I attended an Immersion: Going Deeper conference at Brentwood Baptist Church over the last two days, featuring Union University professor Dr. George Guthrie.

It was as good as billed and more.

God’s Unfolding Story was the theme and Dr. Guthrie spoke about how grace always has a face and a space in which to work. To me, that says that grace works best not as a theoretical proposition, but as a concrete reality lived out in the midst of where we live, work, and play.

Grace says that I have a standing invitation into the throneroom of the God of the Universe that never expires and never gets rescinded. As a student at Union University back in the day, I’d never have dreamed of barging into University President Dr. Hyram Barefoot’s office and telling him fears and dreams.

But God invites me to do just that. It is His desire that I come to Him at any moment with whatever’s on my mind. He is a good, good, Father, as the current worship song says.

Sometimes, it’s good to simply sit in God’s lap and bask in His presence. Other times, only two words will do for my prayer: thank you.

There have been times when the hurt and pain go too deep for words, yet God hears the sighs and groans that go deeper than any words can ever express.

It was great seeing Dr. Guthrie again, as well as Chuck Maxwell. It was also fantastic getting to hear Michael Card perform a couple of songs on Friday night. That alone was worth the price of admission.

Sometimes, it’s good to go deeper into God and to find out that He’s way more amazing than you had ever imagined in your wildest dreams. He never disappoints those who seek Him with pure and willing hearts.

That’s a fact.

The end.

 

Once Again, I Got Nothin’

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.

 

A Very Random Friday Night

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I had the brilliant idea to go contra dancing tonight. I’m still not entirely sure what it involves, but it sounds more than slightly Latin and probably a heck of a lot of fun. It’s called me stepping out of my familiar box into something new.

At least that was the theory.

I input the address into my iPhone and away we went ( me and the ever-so-helpful tiny lady who lives inside my phone and gives directions).

I still managed to miss a turn or two, but still got to my destination by 7:25, exactly like my phone predicted. There were lots of cars, so I felt hopeful.

That was short-lived. I did hear two guys singing “Bye Bye Love”, an Everly Brothers song, but not one you can contra dance to. At least as far as I know.

The sign on the door directed me to another address, thankfully not far from the first one. Again, I input the directions and obeyed the nice lady and got to my appointed destination, filled with renewed hopes.

And a back-up plan. My thought was, “If this doesn’t work, I’m going to Starbucks.”

Yes, I found the place where the contra dancing would take place. I had checkbook in hand. But then I learned it was $20 for the night. So Starbucks and a $4 salted caramel hot chocolate suddenly became very appealing.

Back in the car. New directions. Same helpful and friendly voice.

So I get my little cup of heaven and sat down next to an older gentleman and across from a very pretty college-age girl. It turned out, he was waiting for someone. Me and the girl looked up every time someone walked in. We even exchanged glances when he went out to the parking lot and chatted to someone sitting in a parked car.

No dice. I never did find out who he was waiting for or if he (or she) ever materialized. In the meantime, I finally finished reading The Divine Conspiracy. I left, wishing them both a blessed weekend. It seemed like the right thing to do.

There was no a-ha moment to the night, no epiphany. Just a series of disconnected random events that won’t make any headlines or get talked about around any office water coolers on Monday. Maybe one day it will make sense in terms of my overall story, but right now, it feels like a very artsy postmodern movie with no plot and a very vague ending.

But it was a good night. I stopped and enjoyed the moments and my heavenly drink. It was nice.

And sometimes nice is enough.