Making The Impossible Possible

impossible2

If you want to see a positive, life-affirming movie, watch The Impossible. It’s set during the 2004 tsunami that hit the coastal areas of several Asian countries and centers around a family trying desperately to find each other.

It seems like an impossible task. There’s so much devastation and chaos that the odds of finding anyone familiar are extremely high. But their love for each other proves more resilient than any obstacle that stands in their way and in the end, they find each other. Sorry if I just spoiled the ending for you.

impossible1

Maybe you’re facing an impossible situation right now.

Maybe it’s a friendship that’s fractured beyond repair.

Maybe it’s a marriage that’s fraying at the seams and it seems like it will inevitably fall apart.

Maybe it’s a son or daughter who has gone prodigal and the chance of their returning seems less likely with each passing year.

Maybe it’s a dream that you’ve all but given up on, believing that you missed your best chance long ago and now any hope of seeing that dream come true is fading.

I’ve come to believe that with God, truly nothing is impossible. There’s no such thing as too late. There’s no such thing as past hope. There’s nothing broken that can’t be fixed, nothing so shattered it can’t be put back together again.

In fact, the more impossible the situation, the better God is at coming through. He even makes it look easy.

After all, if he can take a life that was dead and decayed and make it alive again, is anything else really so hard?

If he can take death, hell, sin, and the grave and defeat them on their own terms at the cross and the empty tomb, is there anything left that can stand against him?

I love these words of the Apostle Paul’s: ”

So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn’t hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn’t gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God’s chosen? Who would dare even to point a finger? The One who died for us—who was raised to life for us!—is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ’s love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture:

They kill us in cold blood because they hate you.
We’re sitting ducks; they pick us off one by one.

None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I’m absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutelynothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us (Romans 8:31-39).

 

My First Letter to My Future Wife in a While

“You are the butter to my bread, you are the breath to my life” (from the movie Julie & Julia).

I blogged a few days ago about a magical movie moment at Best Buy. I’m beginning to realize that that girl is probably not you. In fact, I sincerely doubt I’ll ever see her again.

But one thing she did that I’m forever grateful for is to help me believe in myself again. Specifically, she helped me to believe that I could be desirable and attractive to the opposite sex. Not in a logical in-my-head kind of way, but in a very real, in-real-life kind of way.

I had even begun to doubt you would ever come my way, but now I believe in that again. I believe that even if it takes a miracle for us to meet, God has plenty of experience and practice and miracles and it’s really true that what seems impossible to us isn’t even remotely difficult for him,

There are still some fuzzy parts. I don’t know who you are or what you look like. I don’t know when or how we’ll meet. I don’t know where I’ll be. But I do know that wherever you are will be my home.

I know that there will be times when we won’t be “in love,” but we will still love each other, because love isn’t a feeling as much as it is a choice, an action, an active verb. Love even means loving when you don’t feel like it. Going through the motions of love sometimes until the feelings of love return.

I do hope there are moonlit walks on the beach and candlelit dinners. I hope for fireworks and also for quiet moments. I can’t wait to feel you lying next to me, sleeping while I’m still not able to fall asleep over the wonder that you belong to me and I belong to you and that we both belong to Jesus.

Some days, you are harder to see than others, but my hope isn’t in you. It’s in God. Period. I hope you will love me, but I hope you will love Jesus more. I hope to love you, but not half as much as I hope to love Jesus. And I know neither of our loves will even begin to touch the love of the Father for each of us.

That’s what I’m hoping for.

 

Sadness and Joy

It seems there is so much sadness in the world lately. From the Boston Marathon bombings to the tornadoes that ripped through Shawnee and Moore, Oklahoma, it seems tragedy and loss are everywhere. It seems like on Facebook people are having to say goodbye to loved ones, where they be furry or people.

It can be overwhelming if you let it. The magnitude of pain around the world right now is massive. So many people are hurting, so many are suffering, so many seem like they have nothing to look forward to but more hurt and suffering.

But as callous and unfeeling as this may sound, you can still have joy. Joy is not a denial of what happened in Boston or Oklahoma. Joy doesn’t turn a blind eye toward those who have suffered and lost. Joy sees past the pain to the God who waits on the other side. The beautiful part is that God is on both sides of the pain and walking with you through it.

I love an illustration a pastor gave. Jesus isn’t limited by time and space, so he’s in your present with you. He’s also in your future, so that the promises he gave you are already as good as done. He’s in your past in that moment when you were wounded, ready to heal you so that your past wounds no longer bleed into your present. He’s in all three places at once.

I am convinced that sadness and joy can coexist. It’s only right to grieve what’s lost. But we don’t grieve as those who have no hope. We grieve with hope that one day God will set everything right and will restore a thousand-fold what we’ve lost or given up. We grieve as those who know that our troubles are only a blip on the radar screen compared to the glory that awaits and that what we suffer pales in comparison with the ultimate joy that awaits us.

So my heart aches for all those in pain tonight, but my heart rejoices that while there may be pain in the night, joy comes in the morning.

 

Ghosts

stpauls

 

I was feeling burdened about some issues, so I stepped inside one of my favorite places on earth, St. Paul’s Espiscopal Church, a very old church building located in the heart of downtown Franklin. Being in that place always brings me peace and I can be still and silent and just be.

I pulled out one of the kneelers and got on my knees and unburdened myself before God. I let it all go. I don’t know if it will work out like I want it to or not, but I do know that I felt a peace about it for the first time in a while. Then I simply listened.

It may have been the creaky floorboards settling, but to my romanticized imagination, it sounded like echos of past worshippers. Ghosts of people who came to this place and found their own peace.

I felt that I was not alone. Not because of ghosts, but because I knew that God was there with me.

I know now that I have to let my situation go. I can’t fix it. As much as I try to “help” God out, I would only make things worse. So I have to back off and let God do what only God can do. It’s completely in his hands now.

I don’t know how long I knelt there, listening to the noises around me. I left my phone in my pocket the whole time.

I love the fact that God didn’t wait until I got my act together to come to me. He found me, broken as I was, and is loving me to wholeness. Even though I sometimes still live out of fear and doubt, he never once has abandoned me. In those times I felt most alone, he was closest of all.

That’s what I love about God. Every other religion is about how to get to God, but Christianity (not the religion, but the relationship with Jesus Christ) is about how God came to us and found us before we even thought about looking for him.

I’m so glad he found me.

 

To All the Rahabs in the World

I’ve blogged about Rahab before. Maybe because she’s got such a beautiful story. Maybe because I can relate to her brokenness so well. Or maybe it’s because it shows God at his redemptive best.

Rahab was a prostitute who hid the Israelite spies and lied about their whereabouts to the local police. She led them to safety on the promise that they take care of her family when they come to invade the city. Note: she didn’t ask for herself, just her family.

Rahab’s past is synonymous with shame. She had seen her life spiral downward into something she could never have imagined as a little girl. Anyone else in her position could have turned hard and cold and not even let those foreign spies in.

But there was something about them that got her attention. Something about those stories of their god who had led them through the desert and defeated their enemies. All her own gods had failed her. Maybe there was something different about this Yahweh.

When people look at people like her, all they see is something broken. Something to discard, to throw away. God sees the perfect piece that will fit into his master plan of redemption. He sees the mother of Boaz, the father of Jesse, the father of King David, out of whose line came Jesus.

I love the saying that broken pieces make the best stained glass windows. It’s true. The best testimonies come from the worst moment of your life when you saw that God could stoop low enough to find you in your filth and raise you up. That he could save anyone, even you.

So to all the Rahabs in the world, just remember this. You have a place in God’s story. You have a place in God’s heart. You are not a dirty whore. You are a beloved daughter, a beloved son, a beloved child of God.

Your Abba is indeed very fond of you.

 

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.