Losing Your Way

I went to downtown Franklin like so many other times before. In fact, I’ve made the drive so much I can go into autopilot and be thinking about other things while I navigate those familiar roads.

This time, apparently I got too wrapped up in my own thoughts and made one of my turns a block too early. I looked up and for a second I thought, “Where the heck am I? What have they done with my downtown Franklin?”

I figured out what I had done and had to do a bit of a scenic detour to get to my destination, but I got there.

At some point or another, we all get lost. Sometimes we get lost in our thoughts. Sometimes we get lost in a web of anxiety and irrational thinking and find ourselves saying things and acting in ways that aren’t true to who we really are.

But no matter how far out of the way you’ve gone, it’s always possible to get back.

Sometimes it takes being a part of something greater than yourself, volunteering for a cause that is way bigger than your own problems.

Sometimes it takes a friend gently but firmly speaking the truth to you in love to set you straight.

Sometimes it takes going to a favorite place on a perfect night and being in the moment with cool spring breezes and familiar sights and sounds.

Everyone gets lost. Even in the healing process, you will have bad days where you fall back to old habits and fears. I had one of those last Tuesday, but I’ve since owned it and moved forward. It’s okay to admit what you’re feeling, to be okay with the bad days because you know they are as equal a part of the healing process as the good days.

Most of all, there is never a time when Jesus doesn’t know where you are. He knows because he’s right there with you, often walking beside you unnoticed as you’re too enveloped in the fog of your pain and doubt to see him.

For those who know what it’s like to be lost and then found, you truly know what a sweet sound amazing grace is.

 

That Ol’ Emmaus Road

roadtoemmaus

 

In the story in Luke 24 about the two disciples walking down the Emmaus road, a question probably comes to mind. How could they have not recognized Jesus walking beside them, conversing with them, the whole entire time? I mean, wasn’t he the focus of their lives for three years? How could they have been so blind?

But then I think I understand. Sometimes deep grief and pain can keep you from really seeing what and who is around you. Sometimes, you just get too wrapped up in your own problems and anxieties to really pay attention to where you are.

Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.

Maybe you feel alone and abandoned as you walk your road. You may not realize it, but Jesus is silently walking beside you.

Maybe you feel like you need to clean up your act and get your life together so you can be “good enough” to meet Jesus. You may not be aware of it, but Jesus is already where you are, waiting on you to recognize him, drop your pretenses, and come running into his arms.

It’s interesting to me that the moment those two disciples recognized Jesus was in a moment of worship. They broke bread, like they had done earlier in the week with Jesus, and suddenly their eyes were opened. True worship does that. It helps us to find Jesus and understand that he was already with us all the time.  After all, he wasn’t the one lost and needing to be found. We were.

So maybe all you need to do is cling to the promise Jesus gave that he would never leave us nor forsake us. Maybe you need to reach out your hands in faith to find his own reaching toward you. No matter where you are or what you’ve done, no matter how badly you’ve messed up, Jesus is always ready to receive you again. He’s never stopped loving you or pursuing your heart.

I think that qualifies as the best news ever.

What If?

questions

 

I went running today for the first time in over two weeks after I tweaked my knee. I felt great. My knee felt great. And I found out that I’m not the world’s slowest runner after all. There’s at least one person out there slower than me, and I know because I passed her.

But then I got to thinking. What if my knee had been messed up to the point where I couldn’t ever run again? Would I still be thankful?

Or what if I lost my health? Would I still be able to wake up in the morning with gratitude for another day of being alive?

What if I lost my friends and family? Would I still be able to worship with a sincere heart and sing about the goodness of God?

What if God took away from me everything and everyone that I daily take for granted? What and who would I have left? Would I have anything at all left?

Would I still be able to praise Jesus for saving me if he never did one more thing for me?

Could I live a life of thanksgiving to my God for who he is if I never saw another visible sign of his presence?

Is God and God alone truly enough for me?

I wish I could say yes, but I find myself leaning on other crutches when I get tired or stressed or upset. I find myself thinking more about other things and people than about God. Sometimes God feels like a last resort after all my other planning has failed.

The truth I need to remember today (and maybe you do, too) is that God is the only one able to save me. He’s the only one strong enough to hold my life together and to hold me when I’m falling to pieces. He’s the only absolute constant that I can count on who won’t ever leave or forsake me.

So all of this to say that I need to be more thankful for what and who I have in my life. I need to remember where it all comes from, too.

I’m thankful most of all that God is still working on me, making me a better man, son, brother, friend, husband (possibly one day), father (also possibly one day), friend, and follower of Jesus.

A Prayer For All My Friends Who Run

I may have mentioned this a time or two before, but I’ve gotten back into running. At least before I tweaked my knee. I’m probably the slowest runner ever and would probably get easily passed by power walkers, but I try. I can see how running could easily become an idolatrous obsession. At least for me, anyway. So here’s my prayer for all my friends who run, with the Country Music Marathon in mind.

Lord, I pray for my friends who will be running in the race this coming Saturday.

Give them a beautiful day to run in and may they feel Your pleasure over them as they run, knowing that the ability to run came solely for You. May they run only for Your glory.

Keep them from injuries and accidents and may their feet be swift and their hearts be overflowing and their joy be boundless.

May they be reminded every time they run about the Great Race that we’re all in, following in the footsteps of Jesus, who ran His race perfectly. May they keep their eyes on the Ultimate Prize, which is Jesus Himself.

Regardless of whether they have a chance of winning or not, may they finish well.

May we all run our race, not give up, and finish well.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.

Thoughts About the Boston Bombers

I know there are some people out there that are celebrating the capture of the two individuals who allegedly set up the bomb devices that killed three and injured so many at the end of the Boston Marathon. I know many people out there want these two to die slowly and painfully so that they feel all the suffering they inflicted on their victims.

But I wonder how many out there will pray for them? I wonder how many out there really believe that Jesus really died for EVERYONE and that God’s love is truly UNCONDITIONAL. Even for terrorists and criminals.

I think so. Just ask the Apostle Paul.

I also wonder what might have happened if either of these two men had seen the love of Jesus lived out before them. If someone had come alongside of them years before and said, “I’m your friend,” not out of a need to convert somebody but out of a genuine love that expects nothing back in return.

I wonder who will mourn the tragic tale of two lives gone horribly wrong and how they got so blinded that they willingly embraced the lies and the hate that could only lead to nothing but destruction and despair.

I am saddened at the lives lost– all of them. I am glad that justice is served, but that doesn’t mean that I rejoice over death. Even God doesn’t rejoice in the death of the wicked (see Ezekiel 18:23 and Ezekiel 33:11).

Faith shouldn’t ever be about us versus them. It should be about us and God. It should be about who we are and who we would have been apart from the grace of God. It should be about seeing the best in people, not the worst, and helping them to see it, too. It should be about holding on to the Love that is stronger than Evil and Death and Hell and believing that this Love ultimately wins out in the end.

 

 

The Reason I Started Blogging in the First Place

brennan manning

 

“Define yourself radically as one beloved by God. This is the true self. Every other identity is illusion” (Brennan Manning).

When I meet Mr. Manning in heaven one day, I think I’d tell him something like this:

Thank you for teaching me about grace.

When I first started reading your books, I was very legalistic and judgmental. I looked down on others who didn’t fit my idea of a good Christian, all the while smiling at them and being nice.

Then someone told me about Ragamuffin Gospel. I don’t remember where or when exactly I first read it, but I know that started a monumental shift in my thinking about a lot of things.

Through the years, I’ve come to realize that I’m just as messed up and frail as anybody out there and that I need the grace of God every single day. I have fears and doubts and shame just like anyone else.

I’ve also been learning how to extend this amazing grace I’ve received to others. I’m learning to forgive freely. I’m learning instead of expecting others to act toward me in a certain way, to be the kind of friend that I want others to be to me.

Thank you for helping me find freedom in the knowledge that I am the Beloved of God the Father and that my Abba is very fond of me. Thank you for reminding me that nothing and no one at any time can ever or will ever change that.

Thank you for these words of yours that still wreck my world even now:

“Because salvation is by grace through faith, I believe that among the countless number of people standing in front of the throne and in front of the Lamb, dressed in white robes and holding palms in their hands (see Revelation 7:9), I shall see the prostitute from the Kit-Kat Ranch in Carson City, Nevada, who tearfully told me that she could find no other employment to support her two-year-old son. I shall see the woman who had an abortion and is haunted by guilt and remorse but did the best she could faced with grueling alternatives; the businessman besieged with debt who sold his integrity in a series of desperate transactions; the insecure clergyman addicted to being liked, who never challenged his people from the pulpit and longed for unconditional love; the sexually abused teen molested by his father and now selling his body on the street, who, as he falls asleep each night after his last ‘trick’, whispers the name of the unknown God he learned about in Sunday school.

‘But how?’ we ask.

Then the voice says, ‘They have washed their robes and have made them white in the blood of the Lamb.’

There they are. There *we* are – the multitude who so wanted to be faithful, who at times got defeated, soiled by life, and bested by trials, wearing the bloodied garments of life’s tribulations, but through it all clung to faith.

My friends, if this is not good news to you, you have never understood the gospel of grace.”

Immanuel: For All Those Times

Immanuel is God with us, in the flesh, walking alongside of us, sharing our burdens and joys and sorrows, even now. The Kingdom of God isn’t just some faraway pie-in-the-sky somewhere-over-the-rainbow place for when we die, it’s the presence of God in our midst at this very moment.

For when you’re at a party and you feel alone in the crowd, unnoticed and unwanted, Jesus is there with you.

For when you’re interested in someone and just realized that they aren’t the least bit interested in you in the same way (and probably never will be), Jesus knows what you’re feeling.

For when you feel like you’re not that high up on anybody’s priority list and they’d probably rather be hanging out with their cooler, artsier friends than you, Jesus chose you because he wanted you, not because you were all that was left. He picked you.

For when you’re in a season of trial and your friends seem to be growing more distant and less friendly, Jesus is still the friend who sticks closer than a brother. You realize that they’re too busy dealing with their own pain to fully notice yours and know the same Jesus who is with you in your pain is with them in theirs.

For when you have a story to tell but no one is listening and no one seems to want to hear it at all, Jesus, the one who wrote your story and knows it by heart, is listening.

For when you’ve come to the absolute end of your rope and have completely run out of hope, Jesus is right in front of you, saying “Just take one more step toward me. Just give me the tiniest bit of what’s left of your faith, and I’ll get you through.”

For when you can’t tell the lies and fears from reality, when you know what you’re thinking isn’t true or even sane but think it anyway, Jesus is still the Life, the Truth, and the Way. He’s still your life, your ultimate truth, and the way for you to get back home.

You’ll find one day that you can be in a group and not have to have the attention all the time.

You’ll find one day that when that someone you’re interested in finds their true love, you can sincerely rejoice for them.

You’ll find one day that the place God brings you to was worth all he brought you through and you’d go through all of it again to be at this amazing new place.

You’ll find one day that you can’t hear the lies anymore and the fears disappear as you grow in God’s love and learn to hear his still small voice speaking to you.

Even then, he is still Immanuel. God with us. God with me. God with you.

“But We Had Hoped . . . “

despair

“And we had our hopes up that he was the One, the One about to deliver Israel” (Luke 24:21).

I know you know what it’s like to have your hopes dashed yet again.

Maybe you thought a certain person was the one, but it turned out that he wasn’t interested in you like that or she only wanted to be friends.

Maybe you invested in a friendship and found out that you weren’t nearly as high on the other person’s list of priorities. Or maybe that other person saw some of your flaws and decided you just weren’t worth the effort anymore.

Maybe you felt confident after a really good job interview only to discover the company went with someone else they felt was a “better fit.”

Maybe you gave your time and energy and talent to a company for so many years only to find yourself on the receiving end of a pink slip with the words that went something like “we had to make some cutbacks somewhere.”

Maybe you’re at the place where it’s easier not to hope anymore. Where it’s easier not to open up to anyone or trust anyone beyond a surface level anymore. Where it’s easier and safer to give up on your dreams than risk the possibility of more disappointment and heartache.

Just like those two disciples, maybe you and I have gotten so wrapped up in ourselves that we miss who it is that’s walking alongside of us. We’ve missed his comforting words. Don’t you see him yet?

It’s Jesus.

I love what I heard a pastor say recently that went something like this: “Aren’t you glad that at the greatest hour of need that God didn’t send a text or a skype invite? He sent Jesus.”

Jesus has come to hear your story and then connect it with his. Not that he’ll be surprised by anything you tell him. He already knows what you’ve been through, even the ugly parts you would never tell another living soul. And he loves you.

He’ll stick around when friends bail, when spouses leave, when children don’t want to come around anymore. He’ll love you even when you can’t find the strength to love yourself.

Tonight, I’m more thankful for Jesus than ever. I know that when I’m feeling overwhelmed by negative thinking and feelings of abandonment, he’s speaking peace into my chaos. He’s whispering truth over the lies I’m believing.

And he won’t ever leave me.

Those Crazy Spider Monkeys!

monkey

I heard something very interesting about monkeys and coconuts. And no, there’s not a Monty Python joke coming. Or a reference to any Animal Planet show currently airing.

I heard that a way to trap a spider monkey is to drill a hole in a coconut just big enough for its hand to fit in and put food in there. The little monkeys will reach in and grab the food, but with their hands in a fist clutching their prize, they can’t pull it out again.

The end result is either death or capture.

My first reaction is: aren’t those just greedy little monkeys?

My second is: what is so great about what they’re holding onto that they can’t let go?

Then I wonder how many times I’ve been trapped like that by holding onto something I don’t need to. Like a wound from my past. Or maybe a failure I can’t forgive myself for. Or maybe a selfish desire of mine.

Maybe you’re holding onto your idea of how your life should play out. Maybe it’s a relationship that’s toxic and hazardous to your health and your heart. Maybe it’s unforgiveness that keeps you up nights. It could be anything that takes the place of Jesus in your heart. Even good things.

Whatever it is, you can’t move forward until you let it go. You can’t be free unless you release your grasp of whatever it is that you’re white-knuckling.

I’m reminded of a story of a little girl whose father gave her some imitation pearls. She loved those pearls and wore them everywhere. She even slept in them. But one day her dad asked the unthinkable.

“Give me your pearls,” he said.

“No, Daddy. You can have anything else. My dollies, my stuffed animals, but not my pearls.”

So he let it go that night. But he asked again the next night. And the night after that.

Finally, with tears in her eyes, she said, “Yes, Daddy. You can have my pearls.”

With one hand he took the imitation pearls, and with the other he gave her a box containing very real and very expensive pearls. He had been waiting for her to let go of the imitation so she could have the real thing.

What are you holding onto that keeps you from receiving what God has for you? It may be a good thing, but if it keeps you from God’s best, let it go. If it keeps you from full devotion and obedience to Jesus, let it go.

Trust me, what you give up won’t even compare to what you get in compare. Or as a guy named Jim Elliot once said, “He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

April Fool’s Day

I have to admit. I missed out on the fun. I was neither the prankster nor the prank-ee, although Monday itself is enough of a bad prank for anyone.

I went on my first run since December and did better than expected. I thought surely I’d be huffing and puffing and passing out after a few blocks, but I ran 2 miles in 21 minutes, which may not be any new world record for speed but was good enough for me.

I wore my brand-new, never-worn, red New Balance running shoes. And man, they are red. I suppose if I clicked my heels together I might wind up in Kansas. They are that red.

It seems like there’s always a bit of a letdown after any major holiday. For me, I always dreaded the day after Christmas, because all that hype and excitement was over and there were 364 more days till the next one. I could always console myself after Thanksgiving with leftovers, so that wasn’t so bad.

But for Easter, I somehow seem to forget so easily what I just celebrated. That Jesus is alive, that not even death and hell could hold him, that there is new life and new hope now that wasn’t there before.

I guess I’ll have to look into this Pentecost Sunday business and find out what it’s all about. It wasn’t on my Baptist radar growing up, so I don’t know too much about it. I just know that one day isn’t enough to celebrate the resurrection anymore than one day is sufficient to celebrate Jesus’ miraculous birth.

I just looked up Pentecost on Wikipedia and found out that the main sign of Pentecost in the Western Churches is the color red, symbolizing joy and the fire of the Holy Spirit. So maybe I’ll wear my red shoes.

Next year, I hope I won’t be fooled into letting the meaning of Easter slip away so easily after only one day. And maybe I can come up with a good prank.