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Celebrating My Life

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I’m still exhausted. Being sick will do that. Add in a few nights of not sleeping so well. Let’s all be thankful that tomorrow is Saturday. And God’s people said, “Amen.”

I still count myself as extremely fortunate. I ended up with an apparently light case of pneumonia. A friend of mine ended up in the hospital with it.

In the light of recent events, I think all of us should take more occasions to celebrate our own lives. There’s no guarantee of a tomorrow for you or anyone you love.

Let me add my own two cents worth. Yes, black lives matter. For way too long in this country, African-Americans only counted as 3/5 of a person and were looked upon as property to be bought and sold rather than people made in the image of God. That is a grave injustice that we as a country are still paying for.

Ultimately, every life matters. Everyone made in the image of God matters because everyone matters to God.

Ultimately, God’s love will conquer hatred and violence and ignorance and apathy. Ashes and defeat are not the end of the story. Victory and hope are.

So, I repeat again: every single life matters. I matter. You matter. Never forget that.

 

Weary Part II

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I’m still weary. Only this time it’s a different kind of weariness.

I’m weary of violence and hatred seeming to always have the upper hand. It’s not a matter of guns or no guns, knifes or no knifes. It’s a matter of what lies within the unredeemed human heart when it gets its own way. You don’t overcome hatred by more hatred (even if it’s a different kind of hatred). Only love– God’s love– overcomes and conquers hate.

I’m weary of impatience wherever I find it, especially within my own heart. I know from personal experience that good things truly come to those who wait, yet it still goes against those ingrained instincts and that voice that always wants to have what it wants now.

I’m weary of the constant overload of information and the dearth of true wisdom. We have so much more knowledge now than we’ve ever had in our history, yet we seem so much more foolish than ever before in our choices and our character.

I’m weary of my own continual reluctance to trust God in the every day business of living. He’s never steered me wrong, yet I am still slow to listen and hesitant to take Him at His word when He does speak.

I’m weary of believers who try too much to look like the lost world they’re trying to save. What makes Christians attractive is not how much like everybody else we are but how different we are (hopefully in a good and loving way and not in a harsh and condemning way). I’m most weary of the fact that most of the time I’m too good at being incognito in my faith.

I’m thankful that all these things that are so tiresome are not the end of the story. The end is victory and overcoming and rest. Just as Jesus sat down at God’s right hand after His atoning work was finished, so shall we all finally find rest after Jesus comes back to redeem and restore history and humanity.

 

 

Happy 4th of July

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It’s officially Independence Day (or as some jokingly refer to it on social media, Treason Day by us ungrateful former British subjects).

I didn’t go see any fireworks today because 1) I’m still in recovery mode from pneumonia, 2) I’m dog sitting in Bellevue and didn’t feel like driving cross-country, and 3) it rained on and off most of the day.

I am thankful for my freedoms. You can criticize this country and its history and policies (and there’s admittedly a lot we’ve gotten way wrong over the years) but remember that one of your freedoms is the right to criticize without fear of being labeled a traitor and/or arrested by said government.

We must be doing something right for there still to be so many who want to come here (whether legally or illegally).

Yet for all that, I have to confess something. For those who profess faith in Jesus, it’s not God AND country. It’s God THEN country. We may be citizens whose pledge allegiance to a flag and a president but our ultimate allegiance is to a King and a Kingdom.

It’s helpful to keep that in mind going into yet another Presidential election. We need to be reminded yet again that our hope isn’t in the man or woman who sits in the White House. Our hope isn’t in the nine people who sit on the U. S. Supreme Court. Our hope isn’t in passing laws and statutes.

The current problems we face aren’t nearly as much political as they are spiritual, so we don’t need a political platform as much as we need a Savior.

The way of the cross still isn’t drinking the Kool Aid of one political party or the other. It isn’t more Christians in political office. The way of the cross is still this– “Whoever wants to be first must be last, and whoever wants to be the greatest must be the servant of all (Mark 9:35).

I hope you’re enjoying your extended holiday weekend. Just remember that as great as America is, it doesn’t even begin to compare to the Kingdom of God that’s already here and yet at the same time is on its way.

 

 

Dog Sitting in Bellevue Again

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Once more, I find myself in the area in West Nashville known as Bellevue. I get to take care of three of my favorite dogs in the whole wide world.

They are two beagle mixes and one Jack Russell mix. The last one is a little mixed up in the head, but he’s also very endearing and lovable and fun to be around.

The bonuses for me are that McKay’s, my favorite used book/music/movie store is very nearby, as well as Loveless Cafe (which I think should be required for everyone who comes through Nashville).

I’m still in recovery mode from pneumonia but I believe I’m feeling much better than I was yesterday. I don’t feel quite as fatigued (although it still doesn’t take an awful lot to wear me out). Part of my prescription is an inhaler, something I haven’t used or thought much about since I used to have to carry one around for asthma back in the day.

I don’t have any plans for the 4th of July Weekend. I plan on hanging out with these canines and resting a lot. I’ve seen lots of fireworks in my lifetime, so missing them this year won’t cause me too much psychological harm.

As always, God is good, life is great, and I am blessed.

 

Another One of those Random Blogs about Nothing and Everything

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This is day two of my first (and hopefully only) bout with pneumonia. To be more accurate, this is the second day since I was diagnosed with pneumonia. It still seems surreal to think about. I’m almost positive that I did my best Don Knotts look of surprise when the doctor told me what I had.

I still don’t feel horrible. I feel decent. I just don’t have an overabundance of energy (and whatever I have ebbs quickly). If I have to be sick periodically, I’d rather it be like this where I can still marginally participate in life and do stuff.

Also, I think it’s easier to be sick in either the fall or spring than in the middle of summer. All that ridiculous heat and excessive humidity don’t help with the whole low-energy, fatigued situation.

I’m thankful for drugs. Especially the drugs that keep you from having to go to the hospital where they charge you one arm, one leg, one kidney, and one first born. Health care has officially spiraled out of control.

I’m thankful for perpetually sleepy 16- (going on 17) year old cats who give the best therapy by curling up in your lap and promptly falling asleep. I believe that may have more of a healing effect than any drug.

I’m thankful for good music that still has the power to transcend the immediate pitfalls and trials of life and transports me back to a seemingly easier and better time. Today’s soundtrack was provided by Steely Dan.

I’m thankful that while I may have more difficultly sleeping lately, my God never sleeps nor slumbers while I’m under His care. There’s not a night that goes by where He doesn’t see me and know where I am and who I am. There will never be a place where He can’t find me to rescue and heal and save me.

As that old guy from Monty Python and the Holy Grail said, “I’m feeling better!”

 

I’m Sick Part Two: The Diagnosis

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I finally broke down and went to a walk-in clinic. As it turns out, I have pneumonia.

Let that sink in. That is one scary word right there. I mean, people die from pneumonia, right?

In my case, what I have is nowhere near that bad. I got a shot in the butt (which was awkward) and a prescription for an inhaler and some pills. I should be as good as new in about a week or so.

At least now I know why I’ve had the on-again, off-again fever and fatigue. The condition has a name and a cure.

I have a lot more sympathy now for those who struggle with health issues and undiagnosed ailments. It’s hard to continue feeling bad and not know why you feel that bad. If it looks like there’s no end in sight to the illness, it’s much harder to endure on a day to day basis.

God, be with all those whose ailments have not yet been given a name and give them strength to bear under this season of suffering. Grant to the doctors wisdom and understanding to be able to diagnose and give hope to those who are weary with waiting for answers.

Most of all, bring healing in Your own way and in Your own time to those who need it most.

Amen.

 

I Just Can’t People Today

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So, the low-grade fever is back. I still feel blah (but nowhere near death’s door). I still managed to get in all my Wednesday activities (before I was aware of The Return of the Fever).

I participated in the Summer Singles Series at The Church at Avenue South. Afterward, some of us went out to eat at Las Palmas. It wasn’t the best meal I’ve ever had, but that really wasn’t the point. It was being around people.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t people very well today. I’ve been in brain fuzz mode all day long. My mental capacity is about at the level of “Fire bad. Tree pretty” (those who know what TV show I’m referencing are awesome).

I spent most of my mental energy keeping my eyes open. I felt like that pug in the videos who is fighting vainly to stay awake in the middle of the day. It’s the pug life, fo’ reals, y’all.

Anyway, some days it’s okay not to be the most social person in the world. Sometimes it’s okay to be alone with your thoughts. Introversion (or just slightly less extreme extroversion) is not a sin. Some of the best minds have been introverts. Especially when they could keep their eyes open.

As I mentioned previously, if this is as bad as I’m going to feel, I’m okay. I can still function (just not without the aid of much, much coffee) and I can still fulfill all my adult obligations.

The key, as always, is to be thankful for being alive and still in mostly good health. The rest is still gravy.

 

I’m Sick

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It’s official. I have a fever and I feel bad. I’m sick.

As much as I like to think that I am brave and stoic in the face of illness, I’m not. Actually, I’m a bit of an overdramatic martyr, truth be told. In my own passive aggressive way, I want everyone around me to be aware of the agony I’m in so they can feel appropriately sorry for me and buy me nice things and do nice things for me.

I regaled more than one person with the thrilling tale of how I drove from work with the A/C off and the vent on because of the chills. It was brutal. I didn’t even sweat one drop the whole way, even though I normally would have been perspiring like the pig that’s about to be bacon.

I made sure that people saw how I was shaking and shivering under all that nasty air conditioning when I was clearly not well. Anyone should have been able to tell that just by looking at my poor miserable face.

Yet here I am, sick. Honestly, I’ve felt much crummier and if this is the worst experience I go through, I’m doing alright.

I know several who are worse off than I. I have a friend who has been to doctor after doctor trying to diagnose and lingering illness that causes her to be extremely fatigued and with a weak immune system to fight off infection. I know several who are fighting courageous battles with cancer, including one who recently lost his battle.

Viewed the right way, illness can be an opportunity rather than solely a burden. You can always serve those who are worse off than you (and if you can’t physically serve, you can send encouraging notes or texts letting them know you are thinking and praying for them. Encouraging words tend to have the same effect on those who write them as with those who receive them.

You can use illness as a means to stand in solidarity with those around the world who suffer daily from hunger, malnourishment, disease, and abuse. You can use your aches and pains as a reminder to pray to the Healing God for those everywhere who live daily with chronic pain and diseases.

This just in. I’m not at death’s door just yet. I’ll probably be right as rain in a day or two with hardly a memory of all my dire suffering.

 

The Fasting and the Feast

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“When the fast, the death, the sacrifice of the gospel is omitted from the Christian life, then it isn’t Christian at all. Not only that its boring. If I just want to feel good or get self-help, I’ll buy a $12 book from Borders and join a gym. The church the Bible described is exciting and adventurous and wrought with sacrifice. It costs believers everything and they still came. It was good news to the poor and stumped its enemies. The church was patterned after a Savior who had no place to lay his head and voluntarily died a brutal death, even knowing we would reduce the gospel to a self-serving personal improvement program where people were encouraged to make a truce with their Maker and stop sinning and join the church, when in fact the gospel does not call for a truce but a complete surrender.
Jesus said the kingdom was like a treasure hidden in a field, and once someone truly finds it, he will happily sell everything he owns to possess that field. a perfect description of the fasting and the feast. It will cost everything, but it is a treasure and an unfathomable joy. This is the balance of the kingdom; to live we must die, to be lifted we bow, to gain we must lose. There is no alternative definition, no path of least resistance, no treasure in the field without the sacrifice of everything else” (Jen Hatmaker, 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Access).

So I finished reading the book 7. I highly recommend it to anyone who’s tired of the same old same old and is looking for something fresh and different. It’s for those who are weary of the prevalence of consumeristic Christianity that has overtaken much of America’s churches, along with a definite trend toward style over substance.

Most of what passes for the gospel these days is either some form of sin management, self-help program, or a variation of the “I’m okay, you’re okay, everyone’s okay.” The Apostle Paul said very clearly more than once that even if he or an angel should proclaim any other kind of gospel other than the gospel of Jesus as presented and expounded upon in the writings of Paul, let him (or her) be condemned.

I was convicted in several areas about my own excesses and my bouts of self-centeredness in opposition to serving others. We in this country have the means to alleviate a lot of the world’s suffering, but we choose rather to spend on lavish buildings   with the latest technologies and comforts. In other words, we’d rather spend it on ourselves.

So I’m telling you to run to your local bookstore (or your local laptop and your local amazon website) to get this book. You will not regret it.

 

The Love of God

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“Could we with ink the ocean fill, And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill, And every man a scribe by trade;
To write the love of God above Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole, Though stretched from sky to sky”

I had several ideas of what to write about for tonight’s post, but when I read this stanza that I posted back on this day in 2011, I knew what I had to write about.

This, the love of God, supersedes any political debate or doctrinal questions. The love of God is stronger than our doubts and deeper than our fears.

The love of God will last longer than the earth and  sky and all of human history. Nothing that the worst of humanity could ever devise will ever put and end to it or stop it from achieving its end.

I’m thankful tonight that this love of God sought me out relentlessly and wouldn’t let go until I finally relented. I’m more thankful that this love of God has never stopped pursuing me through seasons of selfishness and self-doubt.

According to what I read, this last stanza in the great hymn The Love of God was a revision of an ancient Jewish writing from over 1,000 years ago. The person wrote it on the walls of the insane asylum where he lived and was found after he died. Apparently, this was during one of his moments of lucidity.

The rest of the hymn was added around it later, but these are the words that haunt me tonight and have given my soul great rest and peace. May they do the same to you and may you remember them in the days to come when life gets hard and hectic.