Jesus

All Those Miles

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“Tonight I want to tell you the story of an empty stocking.

Once upon a midnight clear, there was a child’s cry. A blazing star hung over a stable and wise men came with birthday gifts.

We haven’t forgotten that night down the centuries; we celebrate it with stars on Christmas trees, the sound of bells and with gifts.

But especially with gifts.

You give me a book; I give you a tie. Aunt Martha has always wanted an orange squeezer, and Uncle Henry could do with a new pipe. We forget nobody, adult or child.

All the stockings are filled — all that is, except one. And we have even forgotten to hang it up.

The stocking for the child born in a manger. It’s His birthday we are celebrating. Don’t ever let us forget that.

Let us ask ourselves what He would wish for most, and then let each put in his share.

Loving kindness, warm hearts and the stretched out hand of tolerance.

All the shining gifts that make peace on earth” (from The Bishop’s Wife).

On my way home from work, I hit a milestone. My Jeep crossed over 295,000 miles. For those who aren’t too familiar with cars and all things automotive, that’s a lot of miles. Even I know that.

So, basically, I have a 15-year old cat and an 18-year old car. Most of my shoes are old enough to be in grade school. Just about everything I own is old.

The older I get, the more I realize that what’s important, what truly matters, isn’t anything that can be bought or sold. It doesn’t come with a price tag. In fact, the most important things in life are free (or more accurately, they’re priceless).

Relationships matter. Time spent with family and friends matters. Integrity and character matter. Compassion matters.

All those things that you will never see advertised (or maybe used to motivate you to buy a product).

This Christmas, maybe instead of another gift that will end up in some Goodwill, how about spending more time with those you love? Maybe, give someone a call or send a text.

The most important gift of all won’t be found under any Christmas tree. It was found in a stable, wrapped snugly in an old blanket and laid in a feeding trough. But what was in that small stable was bigger than our whole world (to borrow a quote from Lucy Pevensie of The Chronicles of Narnia).

Advent is all about celebrating the waiting for the Messiah. It’s preparing room in our hearts to once again receive the Infant King who became Savior of the World. It’s knowing that in the heart of Jesus is enough room for you and me and all who seek Immanuel, God with us.

That, Charlie Brown, is what Christmas is all about. That is what the best part of life is all about– your life after salvation is one extended thank you to Jesus for making that salvation possible, for actually saving you. Your lifestyle of gratitude and thanksgiving will make other people want the Jesus you have.

That’s the best kind of gift.

10,000 Steps

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I recently purchased a Fitbit Charge. It counts your steps and tells you how many miles you’ve walked, how many calories you’ve burned, and how many stairs you’ve walked up. It also acts as Caller ID for your phone. It even makes great waffles. Well, not really, but that would be cool.

The goal is 10,000 steps. When I reach that milestone, I get a pleasant little vibrating buzz on my wrist to notify me of my accomplishment.

I remember what a friend of mine said. He said that every day you take 10,000 steps that either lead you closer to or further away from your desired destination. Those steps will either bring you into more intimate fellowship with God or in a direction away from His plans and purposes for you.

If you wake up and look around one morning and wonder how you got so distant from God, remember those steps add up. Every little decision matters and every little compromise and slip eventually adds up.

The good news of the Gospel is that the journey back isn’t 10,000 steps. It’s about 18 inches, the distance from your head to your heart.

All it takes is to decide once and for all to follow God, no matter what. To put Him first, even above your own spouse and your own children. To obey no matter what backlash society gives you. To lay down your life a thousand different ways every day in dying to your own rights, your own preferences, and your own emotions. To strive to be more like Jesus.

Every step matters. Every second matters. Every choice matters.

Joshua told the Israelites to choose this day whom you will serve. That’s not a once-in-a-lifetime choice. That is an every day, every hour, every minute choice. At every moment, you must choose to serve or not to serve God. Every step is a decision for or against the Lordship of Jesus.

Who will you serve right now? Who will you follow?

It all starts with that first step.

 

Rain, Rain, Go Away: The Sequel

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I am officially over the rain. I liked it for a bit, then it got old. Then it continued to rain.

I spent more than double my usual commute time from work to the Starbucks on Franklin Road in Brentwood where my friend and I meet weekly to walk and talk.

Thankfully, I had classic 90’s tunes in the form of the fantastic album, Surfacing, by Sarah McLachlan. I do believe that 90’s music by and large is better than the current pop music playing on most radio stations.

Still, I got stuck in traffic. At times, I’m fairly certain I could have gotten out of my car and walked faster than I was driving.

I don’t know what it is, but being in extended traffic makes me weary. I suppose it’s from being constantly hyper-aware of all those drivers around me (including those numbskulls who STILL don’t have their lights on in the rain EVEN after my last blog specifically on that topic).

Ultimately, being stuck in traffic means that I have a job to drive to and from, a car to drive in, and a me that is healthy and able to drive said car to said workplace. That in itself outweighs and inconveniences caused by traffic delays and the snail’s pace.

It’s still all about perspective. Before you complain about your life, remember that you still have it better than most of the world’s population. In fact, most people would give anything to have your problems versus the ones that they are facing.

Before you whine about being the 99%, remember that if you have a roof over your head, more clothes than the ones on your back, more than one meal a day, running water, transportation, and cash in your pocket, globally speaking, you are the 1%.

Plus, I had a very good chestnut praline latte at Starbucks to reward myself for not losing my everloving mind over being in the car so long.

All in all, I’d call it a good day.

 

In Whatever You Do

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“Surely, no matter what you are doing (speaking, writing, or working), do it all in the name of Jesus our Master, sending thanks through Him to God our Father” (Colossians 3:17 VOICE).

So, this is my 1,955th blog. Tonight, I revisited an old classic, To Catch a Thief, from the year 1955. Coincidence? I think not.

It’s always nice when a Wednesday turns into a Friday. For the lucky ones (like me), that means that we get both Thanksgiving Day and The Day After Thanksgiving (also known in some circles as Black Friday) off from work.

I’m thinking about these words. Whatever you do, do it all in the name of Jesus, sending thanks through Him to God our Father.

Do it all for the glory of God out of a spirit of thanksgiving. How appropriate is this verse? Maybe that’s why the good folks at Bible Gateway chose this to be their verse of the day on this November 25, 2015.

Today, I am thankful for my job. I’m thankful for my car that got me to my job. I’m thankful for good health and legs that were able to get me to my car, which got me to my job.

I’m thankful for friends who refuse to accept bumper sticker answers to hard questions. I’m thankful that I have friends who have stuck around when maybe they shouldn’t have.

I’m thankful for the abundance of turkeys who made the ultimate sacrifice for our feasts tomorrow. Your sacrifice will not be in vain. Trust me.

I’m thankful for 15-year old furry babies who still like to curl up in my lap and lower my blood pressure in the process.

I’m thankful for every single day that I get to live and remember those who didn’t get that chance.

I’m just plain thankful.

The end.

 

 

Jesus Sees You

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Tonight at Kairos, Mike Glenn talked about wee little Zaccheus and how he climbed up a wee little sycamore tree to see Jesus. Or maybe for Jesus to see him.

How many of us long to be seen and noticed by others? How many yearn for someone to say, “I see you. I see your struggles and victories, scars and joys. You are not invisible.”

Jesus saw Zaccheus. Not as the tax-collector who cheated people for extra profits, but as a broken man needing to be noticed. As someone who was lost and needed finding.

Jesus sees you. He doesn’t see your job title (or lack of one). He doesn’t see your impressive resume of mistakes and fiascos. He sees you.

He sees a broken person who’s tried every kind of piece to fill in the gap. He sees someone who holds the weight of the world on his mind and on his shoulders. He sees someone who yearns for love but doesn’t quite know how to ask for it.

He sees you.

Best of all, He sees the best possible you, the you that not even you can see. It’s the you that God always meant for you to be, your absolute best self when you look most like Jesus and feel most alive.

Jesus asked Zaccheus to come down out of his tree. He didn’t demand it. He didn’t force Zaccheus down. He asked.

If Zaccheus had refused Jesus’ offer, Jesus probably would have moved on and Zaccheus would have missed out on what he was looking for.

Sometimes, it takes you climbing down out of your tree, your self-imposed barrier to everything that’s hurt you and made you feel like less. Sometimes, you have to walk away from everything that’s comfortable to follow Jesus.

But it’s always worth it. Because Jesus not only knows and sees the real you, He will tell you who you really are. He will show you. And He will transform you.

That’s great news for all the Zaccheuses out there. Including me.

 

Lavished Love

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“Consider the kind of extravagant love the Father has lavished on us—He calls us children of God! It’s true; we are His beloved children” (1 John 3:1a).

Don’t rush past this like I’ve done all these years. Take it in slowly and savor what you’re reading.

This Father, the King of the Universe, has LAVISHED his love on us.

I can’t help but thinking of a chapter I read in a book called The Autobiography of God by Lloyd John Ogilvie. The very first chapter is called The Prodigal God, about the parable of the prodigal son.

In it, Ogilvie defines prodigality as that of being extravagant, excessive, and wasteful. He says the character in that parable that best fits the description of prodigal is the father.

The father is the one who had every right after his son left home to hold a mock funeral and to live as though he had only one son. He could very well have written his son off the way his son had written him off.

But that’s not what happened.

I imagine that father waited every day in the same spot on that front porch, looking out into the horizon for any sign of his son.

I know for a fact that the father RAN (something dignified men NEVER did back in that day and age). The father fell on his son’s neck and lavished him with fatherly kisses and affection.

This was my son who was dead, he said, and is now alive.

That’s the picture of the extravagant kind of love the Heavenly Father lavishes on us. It’s that excessive. It’s that wasteful when you consider how many of us ignore it or take it for granted (and I am one of those).

The Father is running after you, not to scold or punish you, but to envelop you in His arms and tell you right now that He loves you just the way you are, soot-covered, shame-covered, sin-covered, but He in His love refuses to leave you the way He found you.

He wants you to be living out of the full knowledge that you are a son, a daughter, a child of God.

 

The Five Longest Minutes

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I tried an experiment on my second visit of the evening to St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. I set the timer on my phone for five minutes, and I spent five minutes in silence, not reading anything, not saying anything, not looking my phone. It was just me sitting in a pew in semi-darkness for five minutes.

Five long minutes.

It’s amazing how society has conditioned us to need almost constant stimuli from the radio, television, tablets, internet, and smart phones. Our attention span is so much shorter than it was even twenty years ago.

It’s good for the soul to be silent.

I think of it like rebooting a computer every so often. It helps it to run more smoothly and to reset the equilibrium when things get a bit off-kilter.

We need rebooting periodically. That’s what silence and meditation are for.  That’s what prayer and fasting are for. That’s why God instituted the Sabbath as a day of rest, although historically His people haven’t been very good at using that day for the purpose of which it was intended.

I’m not very good at any kind of silence. That five minutes seemed a lot longer to me than five minutes. It definitely seemed a lot longer than five minutes spent on Pinterest or Instagram. I’ve been known to waste way more than five minutes scrolling through the posts on Facebook at the end of the day.

Silence takes discipline, something that the culture around us seems to treat with disdain. You don’t see or hear many advertisements extolling the virtues of discipline and self-denial. Usually, it’s quite the opposite.

So there I was in that quiet space for five whole minutes, not saying anything, not reading anything, praying as I felt led. It was refreshing and soul-cleansing. I felt more relaxed and less anxious. I felt at peace with myself and with God.

I should probably do that more often.

 

Dem Golden Streets

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“The twelve gates were twelve pearls, each gate expertly crafted from a single beautiful pearl. And the city street was pure gold, yet it was as transparent as glass.

And in the city, I found no temple because the Lord God, the All Powerful, and the Lamb are the temple. And in the city, there is no need for the sun to light the day or moon the night because the resplendent glory of the Lord provides the city with warm, beautiful light and the Lamb illumines every corner of the new Jerusalem” (Revelation 21:21-23).

Today as I was driving home from work, I was almost blinded by the setting sun blazing directly in my eyes.

I also noticed how the way the sunlight reflected off the pavement made the road looked golden. It was almost as if I-440 West was paved with gold.

It got me thinking about the place in the Book of Revelation where John describes the streets of heaven as being paved with gold.

This is just me thinking out loud, but what if those streets appear golden because they are reflecting the glory of God. After all, the same book mentions that there will be no need for sun or moon because God and His glory will be the only light there.

I never thought the afternoon commute would ever turn so theological. Nashville traffic inspires lots of thoughts and ideas, but most of them are very non-Baptist. So it was a nice change of pace to be sitting in rush-hour madness thinking of heavenly streets of gold in a new way.

So take that for however you want. It’s just a thought I had.

 

A Certainty that Cannot Be Shaken

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“We say, then, to anyone who is under trial, give Him time to steep the soul in His eternal truth. Go into the open air, look up into the depths of the sky, or out upon the wideness of the sea, or on the strength of the hills that is His also; or, if bound in the body, go forth in the spirit; spirit is not bound. Give Him time and, as surely as dawn follows night, there will break upon the heart a sense of certainty that cannot be shaken” (Amy Carmichael).

I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around what happened in Paris.

Granted, I didn’t even hear about it until I’d gotten home from work.

I turned on CNN and saw where at least 153 people had been killed in what looks like ISIS terrorist attacks on innocent civilians.

If it happened there, it could happen here. But still, the fact that it happened anywhere matters. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. once said that injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. Attacks on liberty are a threat to liberty anywhere and everywhere.

I still don’t know why things like that happen. I know it’s a fallen and broken world. I know that people are capable of the worst acts, as evidenced by the Holocaust and Slavery and a million other atrocities.

I also know that God is in control.

I know that God can take the worst tragedies and turn them into something beautiful.

I still believe that in the end, Love wins. Jesus wins.

I know and believe with all my heart that, try as it might, darkness can never truly drive out the light. The only failure is a failure of the light when it refuses to shine.

I’m praying for Paris. I’m praying for all those who are burdened by oppression and injustice tonight.

May God have mercy on us all.

 

Why I Love Old Abraham

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“By faith Abraham heard God’s call to travel to a place he would one day receive as an inheritance; and he obeyed, not knowing where God’s call would take him. By faith he journeyed to the land of the promise as a foreigner; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, his fellow heirs to the promise because Abraham looked ahead to a city with foundations, a city laid out and built by God.

By faith Abraham’s wife Sarah became fertile long after menopause because she believed God would be faithful to His promise. So from this man, who was almost at death’s door, God brought forth descendants, as many as the stars in the sky and as impossible to count as the sands of the shore” (Hebrews 11:8-12).

“That’s what Scripture means when it says, ‘Abraham entrusted himself to God, and God credited him with righteousness.’ And living a faithful life earned Abraham the title of ‘God’s friend'” (James 2:23, The Voice).

I like Abraham. I can relate to Abraham.

Sure, he was the father of many nations. Sure, he’s the one through whose line came the Messiah, the Hope of the World.

But he also had clay feet at times.

Remember the time when he lied about his wife, saying she was his sister? Twice?

Remember when he tried to help God out by agreeing to go to bed with Sarah’s servant Hagar to produce the heir God promised?

Remember when Abraham had a hard time believing that God could keep His word in giving him a child?

Yeah, I can relate to all of that. Abraham’s my kind of guy.

The Bible is full of people like that. Not saints in the sense of people who walked through life with halos hanging over their heads who never messed up or got a hair out of place or got their knickers in a bunch. More like saints who stumbled and fell often, but kept getting back up, kept trusting in the next step, kept trusting that God knew where he was leading them through all the deserts and foreign countries.

Sometimes faith is simply showing up and taking the next step, trusting that God knows where He’s leading you. As Corrie Ten Boom said, faith is trusting the conductor of the train when it goes into a pitch black tunnel instead of jumping off the back of the caboose.

I suppose we’re all thankful that even faith the size of a mustard seed can move  mountains and uproot trees. It can change stubborn old hearts like yours and mine.

Best of all, faith leads you to the place where God is, where you were always meant to be, the place where your heart can rest.