friendships

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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On a Night Like This

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It was a perfect night. You couldn’t ask for better weather. It was cool, almost fall-ish, with a barely perceptible breeze stirring the remainders of summer scents and sending them wafting through the air.

I and my community group went to a friend’s house where we baked pizzas in an outdoor brick oven. That part was fabulous. Yeah, it beat DiGiornio’s, at least in this pizza fan’s opinion.

I even put together my own pizza, with dough, sauce, cheese, and pepperonis. Ok, I’m no Wolfgang Puck, but it was both fun and stimulating to create something with my own two hands. Especially something I got to eat later.

I loved seeing friends old and new and having good conversations. I love even more being in a place in my life where I’m comfortable in my own skin and not always feeling like I have to prove my worth to anybody.

Normally, you don’t see change and growth in your own life on a daily basis. It’s only when you are able to look back over six months or a year that you really see the fingerprints of God all over your life.

I see where I am more confident, calmer, and at peace with myself, others, and God. I am better at waiting, more patient, more understanding. I am much better at finding those moments of eucharisteo in my life and living out of a sense of joy and gratitude.

The only thing I would have added is maybe a hammock. I could see myself falling asleep, cradled by the night and hearing God singing with delight over me.

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So, life is still good, God is still great, and I am still blessed.

Going Against the Flow (When a Guy Becomes a Man)

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Tonight was a good reminder for me as a man of what I’m up against. Never in history has true masculinity been under such attack. Men are viewed alternately as unnecessary, evil, primitive, oppressive, and the cause of all that’s wrong with the world.

The alternatives are 1) to give up and drop out as a functioning member of society, 2) give in to the stereotypes of men as beer-swilling, skirt-chasing buffoons who only live by their appetites.

Then there’s what’s behind door #3. This option is the hardest but most rewarding.

It means choosing to be a man in a world of guys. It means choosing to be a gentleman in a society where manners and values are viewed as anachronistic and old-fashioned. It means swimming against the currents of culture, fashion, societal opinion, popular world-views, and even our own sinful human nature.

It means knowing who you are and where you’re going and living with intention and purpose. It means seeing and savoring Jesus, of devoting a lifetime to pursuing Christ and His heart for the world. It means Jesus becomes not one of my top priorities or even my #1 priority, but my only priority through which everything and everyone else falls into place.

it means transformed friendships, careers, goals, hobbies, and dreams.

I am in the process of finding these things out. So far, I know Whose I am, which tells me who I am– namely, God’s Beloved. I know where I’m going insofar as I want to be conformed into the image of Christ and one day become a husband who loves his wife like Christ loves His Church.

I want people to really grasp who they are in Christ and how much God values and cherishes and loves them. To show them they truly are uniquely and wonderfully made.

I can’t look for a girl who will tell me who I am or where I’m going. I can’t find my true identity in a career or a hobby. What a true woman of God will find most attractive in me is me coming alive to my calling, knowing my identity and purpose, and inviting her to be a part of it.

Notice, I did not say that finding and winning her is the adventure. That’s too small of a goal. I find someone who I can love and cherish and serve a hungry world with and who as a team and a couple can display in a godly marriage just how much Jesus loves His own Bride, the Church.

We will find that we can serve out of a Kingdom mission and purpose far more effectively together than we ever could apart. Our marriage will be about so much more than two people in love, but be about the Kingdom of God lived out in flesh and blood, bound by a covenant until death do us part.

So, I invite you in the words of the movie Say Anything: don’t be a guy. The world is full of guys. Be a man.

Thoughts on Grace and the Abundant Life

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The following material has been previously published or preached or taught elsewhere at least once. It is all “borrowed'” based on the BASE principle of writing (which is Borrow And Steal Everything).

Following Jesus isn’t about praying a prayer or signing a card or walking an aisle. It’s about lining up with Jesus, doing what He said to do and going where He said to go. It’s really and truly about following not a moral code or set of rules but a Person.

It’s about seeing colors when the rest see only black and white. How do you explain the color red to someone who’s only seen black, white, and shades of grey? How do you convince someone that you really gain your life by losing it and win by putting others before yourself? That’s where faith comes in.

Faith is confidence in a God Who is in the past, present, and future at once. Because He’s already in the future, it’s already a done deal to Him. So faith is living out God’s declaration of how the future will be like it’s that way now. Like the victory is completely won.

When Jesus promises us eternal life, it doesn’t just mean living forever. As C S Lewis said of the White Witch in The Magician’s Nephew, ““But length of days with an evil heart is only length of misery and already she begins to know it. All get what they want; they do not always like it.”

True eternal life that Jesus gives is as deep and wide as it is long. It’s so deep that no matter how low you sometimes sink, you can never get beneath the grace of God. It is as wide as the ocean of God’s love for you which you can never see the end of or ever run away so far that you’re still not covered by it.

It is life to the full. It is the abundant life. It is living in the strength and provision of Jesus Himself and having everything you need to live a content and godly life now. It means deeper friendships, deeper dating relationships, deeper marriages, deeper families, deeper careers, and a deeper life that has meaning and purpose beyond anything you could ever dream up or imagine. It means eucharisteo, an overflowing joy and gratitude in everything and for everything.

I love the way The Message ends Romans 5. It’s a good way to end this blog:

“All that passing laws against sin did was produce more lawbreakers. But sin didn’t, and doesn’t, have a chance in competition with the aggressive forgiveness we call grace. When it’s sin versus grace, grace wins hands down. All sin can do is threaten us with death, and that’s the end of it. Grace, because God is putting everything together again through the Messiah, invites us into life—a life that goes on and on and on, world without end. (Romans 5:20, 21 MSG)

A Good Night for a Homecoming

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It was a good night for a high school homecoming game. It seemed more than a bit surreal to be at Beech High School on their homecoming night, but you couldn’t ask for better weather.

The home team won. Barely. The game was probably more suspenseful than it needed to be, as the Beech Buccaneers kept letting Gallatin back in the game. All that matters in the end is that the home team won and lots of good memories got made.

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I was purely a spectator. I didn’t know anyone at the game save for the handful of folks from my community group. I was feeling a bit weary and disconnected, so I did my fair share of wandering alone through the masses there to celebrate one of the truly great and time-honored rites of passage still left sacred in our society.

I was a bit saddened by the regret of one blog I wrote about a friend some months ago that caused a strain on our friendship. I’ve since deleted the post, but it’s still not the same as it was (and may never again be). If I could go back in time, I’d tell myself not to write that blog. It’s one thing I wish everyday that I could go back and undo.

But enough of that. I got over it. I saw a very strange but creative halftime show by the Beech High School marching band. Apparently, it was themed around the M. Night Shyamalan movie Signs, but all I saw were little green men and women scurrying around a fake cornfield and playing eerie movie music. Kudos for creativity, but not so much for making sense.

I made a new friend (Rachel), had some very salty Powerade, witnessed a great game, and hung out with some amazing people called the Green Hills Community Group.

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It’s funny how at times I remembered exactly how I felt as a 17-year old during my high school homecoming game. All the uncertainty, fear, doubts, insecurities, and joys came rushing back. But I saw it all through (hopefully) wiser 41-year old eyes.

I hope to do the high school homecoming game thing again, but hopefully not after putting in 40 hours of work in 4 days and hopefully more rested.

God is just as good to me at 41 as He was when I was 17. It’s nice to know some things never change. Even when I’m 64, that same God will be with me and for me and love me just the same He did when I was in high school and like He does now.

That Undo Button

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I love the undo button on WordPress. It’s saved me more than once when I accidentally deleted a good portion of a blog I was in the process of writing. Quite frankly, it has saved me from cussin’ at my computer.

I wish I had an undo button for tonight. I had a burger and fries at McCreary’s Irish Pub. I was okay until those last ten or so fries.

Then I went over to Frothy Monkey, where I had an iced mocha. I was good until I started the walk back to my car. Then it hit me.

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I can’t remember ever feeling so full in my entire life. I was nearly praying that I would spontaneously combust. I actually felt nauseous. It was touch and go for a while. Thankfully, no cookies got tossed, no one called for Ralph on the porcelain phone, and nothing was spewed or projectile anything’d.

Right now, I feel like I won’t eat again until next Wednesday.

Do you ever have regrets like that?

Maybe it was a few drinks too many one night. Maybe it was getting carried away in passion and going too far with a date. Maybe it was a marriage that imploded. Or a career that got jettisoned.

It could be a conversation that you wish you could redo, words you wish you could take back, replays of yourself doing incredibly stupid stuff that is on an endless loop in your brain. Maybe you intended friendly conversation that got interpreted as creepy and involved a Starbucks manager warning you not to harass the employees so he wouldn’t have to get the cops involved. Yeah, that last part happened to a good friend of mine. Ahem.

Oh, if I offered you an actual undo button right now, you’d pay just about anything to get your hands on one.

Jesus said that if you confess your sin, He is faithful to forgive you and cleanse you. That means the sin is gone. No trace or reminder of it anywhere. It goes away from you as far as the east is from the west. That’s a long way.

You might still have consequences, but remember this. There is nothing in your life that Jesus can’t take and use it for good, no disastrous mess that He can’t turn into a beautiful masterpiece, and no mistake that He can’t turn into a powerful message of Hope.

I love the word justified. You could say it means just-if-I’d never sinned. God declares you innocent. Not guilty. God looks at you and sees none of those ugly stains and wounds. He sees the perfection of Jesus.

I’m thankful every single day for forgiveness and fresh starts with each new morning. I’m thankful that I don’t have to pay for all my mistakes and bad choices and regrettable behaviors.

I also know this. The next time, I’ll leave a few fries behind. And maybe skip that iced drink.

An Evening Prayer on the Last Day of August

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“O God, I thank You for this day of life
for eyes to see the sky
for ears to hear the birds
for feet to walk amidst the trees
for hands to pick the flowers from the earth
for a sense of smell to breathe in the sweet
perfumes of nature
for a mind to think about and appreciate
the magic of everyday miracles
for a spirit to swell in joy at Your mighty presence
everywhere” (Marian Wright Edelman)

Thank you, God, that you woke me up this morning and gave me good health and a body capable of enjoying your creation in all of its splendors.

Thank you for another day or grace and forgiveness and peace and joy.

Thank you that You don’t treat me a I deserve or according to my manifold sins and weaknesses, for I could never then hope to even catch a glimpse of Your face.

But now I see it everywhere.

In the last blooms of the last flowers before the autumn chill sets in.

In the laughter of old friends gathered together.

In the gentle breeze that blows where and when it wills.

In Van Morrison singing about Tupelo Honey in the airwaves above my head.

In the pink remains of yet another artful sunset.

In my own contented and peaceful heart.

Thank you for being here with me and being everything I need in this moment.

“Dear Lord,
be good to me…
The sea is so wide
and my boat is so small.” (Irish Fisherman’s Prayer)

“Lord, I don’t ask for a faith
that would move yonder mountain.
I can take enough dynamite and move
it if it needs movin’. I pray, Lord,
for enough faith to move me” (Norman Allen).

Baseball After an 11-Hour Shift? Sounds Good to Me

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What does a normal person do after putting in an 11-hour shift on a Friday before a holiday weekend?
A. Go home and crash into a 48-hour coma.
B. Go eat my weight 1) chocolate and/or 2) fried foods.
C. Both A and B.

If you answered A, B, or C, you’d be wrong. I opted for
D. Drive to a Nashville Sounds game to hang out with my amazing community group.

Ok. I cheated. But then again, no one has ever accused me of being normal. I’m crazy and I go normal from time to time. It’s usually the worst 5 minutes of my day. Normal is not something I’ve ever been good at. Being unique is something I’m starting to excel at.

It was hot. And muggy. I sweated like a pig visiting a bacon factory. It was not pretty. For me or anyone within smelling distance of me.

The game was good. My team won and there was much rejoicing. Yay.

More than anything, I remember good conversations with good friends, good funnel cake (fried), and good memories made. Throw in some cold lemonade and an encouraging text or two and I call it a perfect night.

I am seeing God in the tiny details these days. And He’s everywhere. Like in the unexpectedly cool breeze on a humid day, grace from friends, the freedom to finally forgive myself for not being all things to all people, and good funnel cake. You just have to know where to look and how to see with eyes of faith.

I am still learning to live in the moment and love God there. No more dwelling on past regrets or future maybes. God is here now and I can only hear Him speaking if I am fully present in the present. Right here, right now.

Lord, I am here now hearing now. Speak, for Your servant is listening.

Isn’t It Ironic? Don’t You Think?

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Ahh, the irony of it all. And as you well know, the opposite of irony is wrinkly. That was a freebie, totally unrelated to what will follow.

I have to confess something. Again.

I’m really good at patience until I run into someone who’s not. Let’s just say I am very impatient with impatient people. You know the kind. Those who are ALWAYS in a hurry and will cut in front of you to save those precious few seconds.

I’m a big believer in grace and showing it to others. Except for when it comes to legalistic and judgmental people. Like those Westboro Baptist people. I’d really like to give them a piece of my mind, which is probably not a good idea since I need to keep what mind I have left.

I am all for inclusion and welcoming everybody. Except for that guy who is obviously not as socially adept as I am. Or that girl who refuses to join in the conversation.

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Do you get where I’m going?

All this proves that I am, despite all my own protests to the contrary, all the things I detest in those other people. I am impatient, judgmental, exclusivist, and not a loving person. At least not in a way that will make people around me take notice.

Anybody can love someone who loves them back. It’s easy to be kind to a kind person.

But a true test of patience is dealing with those impatient folks. A true test of grace is how you answer those who are always out condemning this group or that person. The litmus test of Christ’s love is intentionally showing love to those who aren’t as easy to talk to or get along with.

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Now isn’t that ironic? Don’t you think?

We– meaning, I– would like to think that this love business is just something we can get down if we try harder, work at it more, eat our greenies, and grit our teeth.

The truth is it’s impossible to truly love someone the way we’re supposed to. Like the way Jesus loves us.

Only Jesus can love like that. Only Jesus’ love for us in us flowing through us can reach other people that we would (or could) never love on our own.

Like the Robert Randolph song says, “I need more love every day of my life.”

I need more of that love.

Maybe the more I make an effort to go to that unsocial person, that impatient driver, that judgmental guy with an open mind and an open heart, the more that love flows out of me and the more I am able to receive.

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May we be less like lakes where love stagnates and more like rivers where love always flows in and out.

A Good Weekend

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As I stepped into my car to head home from a Sunday School class party, I could hear the hypnotic drone of cicadas and felt 10-years old again and ready for the next big adventure. That’s what life really is. At least for those who have their eyes open to appreciate the mystery and wonder in each gift God unwraps daily called life.

I still fondly remember running through the streets of downtown Nashville with my friend Katie to catch the next act at Live on the Green, Michael Franti. It was a moment I never imagined happening, yet if you were to ask what my all-time favorite moment was, this one would be climbing the charts. And no Gatorade ever tasted better than the ones from the Exxon convenience store on the way home.

How can I forget an impromptu Starbucks session of great conversation and good coffee drinks? I can’t remember two hours flying by that fast. It was yet another in a long line of unexpected treasures and blessings God has showered on me lately.

I remember Friday and Saturday in downtown Franklin, seeing some of my favorite McCreary’s people and savoring yet another beautiful summer night visiting my usual haunts and trekking my familiar path up and down Main Street. I especially recall how quiet it was in St. Paul’s Episcopal Church as I sat silent and still and expectant, waiting on a Word from God.

I finally fell asleep at 4:30 this morning after another night of tossing and turning. I think I’ll sleep better tonight. At least I hope I do. But even that time awake gave me time to reflect on all the little gifts that eucharisteo had opened my eyes to see.

I remember something my Sunday School teacher Derek Webster said. He said, “God believes in you even more than you do.”

I have to write that down somewhere. Oh yeah, I guess I just did. But I need it in a place where I can find it and see it every morning, because I know some mornings I’ll wake up and not be as excited to be alive. Those old self-doubts will creep in. The enemy will whisper, “See? Nobody really cares about you. No one would notice if you weren’t around. You don’t make one bit of difference to anybody.”

That’s when this Truth of God comes in. God says differently. To me. To you. To anyone who heard and followed the voice of Jesus. God said you do matter because I made you. Jesus said you matter because I thought you were to die for. You have a gift and a purpose that no one else ever in the history of mankind has ever had. Only you can play the part God wrote for you in the Great Romance He’s written out in history.

You being you makes God smile. You being who God created you is what the world around you needs to see more than any Billy Graham or Mother Teresa. You coming alive to your gifts and talents will be the ripple in the ocean whose effects will last far beyond your own lifetime.

Yep. All that from four days in August.