joy

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.

Thank you, Chris

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“God of love,
we thank you that Chris is in your gentle and loving hands,
far from the cruelty, violence and pain of our world.
When the trouble was near,
we could not understand how you seemed
to remain far away.
And yet it is to you we turn;
for in life and death
it is you alone whom we can trust,
and yours alone is the love that holds us fast.
We find it hard to forgive the deed
that has brought us so much grief.
But we know that, if life is soured by bitterness,
an unforgiving spirit brings no peace.
Lord, save us and help us.
Strengthen in us the faith and hope that Chris
is freed from the past with all its hurt,
and rests for ever in the calm security of your love,
in Jesus Christ our Lord.
All
Amen.”

Thank you, Chris.

Thank you for being a good son, husband, and father.

Thank you for leaving behind a legacy of undying love and unquenchable faith.

Thank you for inspiring me with the way you lived out your faith even in dying, to the very last moments when Jesus called you home.

Thank you for your words of encouragement to me and thinking of me when what you were going through was a million times worse than anything I’ve faced.

You’ve inspired me to be kinder and more patient with those in my life.

You’ve reminded me to hug my friends and family as often as I can and to say, “I love you” whenever I get the chance.

You’ve compelled me to not take tomorrow for granted, but to seek forgiveness and reconciliation today while there is still time.

I and so many others are better people and more in loved with Jesus for having known you.

I know at this moment Jesus has you tightly gripped in a great big ol’ bear hug as He whispers in your ear, “Well done, my good and faithful servant. Attaboy, Chris!”

Thank you, Chris.

” I know your life
On earth was troubled
And only you could know the pain
You weren’t afraid to face the devil
You were no stranger to the rain

Go rest high on that mountain
Son, your work on earth is done
Go to heaven a shoutin’
Love for the Father and Son

Oh, how we cried the day you left us
We gathered round your grave to grieve
I wish I could see the angels faces
When they hear your sweet voice sing

Go rest high on that mountain
Son, your work on earth is done
Go to heaven a shoutin’
Love for the Father and Son” (Vince Gill)

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.

Bittersweet Memories, Regrets, and Grace

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Today, I found out that a friend of mine who has cancer is in ICU. He’s septic and may not make it through the night. And if I’m honest, I didn’t really know him in high school. Or at least I don’t remember much about him. I regret that.

Lately, he’s been one of my biggest encouragers, even though what he’s going through is a million times worse than anything I’ve ever faced. I’m praying for one more miracle.

I find myself missing my childhood best friend Nathan. I miss my Grandmother Iris and my Granddaddy Bud. I miss both Uncle Bob and Uncle Monty. I even miss my high school homeroom teacher.

I have lots of unspoken words I wish I had spoken and a lot of unfulfilled promises I intended to keep but didn’t.

I can never go back and tell these people what they meant to me. I can never see their faces and hear their funny stories and hear tales of a legacy of faith that’s been passed down. I can never ask those questions that I thought I would have time to get around to.

But grace means that I still have a chance to set that right. I can say those words to the people who are still in my life. I can make good on promises I made to family and friends in honor and memory of those whom I’ve lost and miss still.

Don’t presume that you’ll have tomorrow to say your “I love you”s. Don’t think that anybody whom you love is guaranteed a tomorrow. Whatever you need to say or do, today is the day.

I’ve said before that when you take things and people for granted, what you’re granted gets taken. And I’ve asked the question before: “If God only let you keep what you thanked Him for and were grateful for verbally, what would you have left? Who would you have left?”

There’s an insidious kind of casualness to relationships these days. Maybe it’s because of people having 5,000 friends on facebook. Maybe it’s because no one thinks they’re really and truly mortal. But once someone is gone from your life, you can never rewind the tape. You can never skip back to the last scene. You can only live with those unspoken words and unfulfilled promises.

I know this is not one of my usual frivolous and witty posts. But sitting in St. Paul’s Episcopal Church with tears rolling down my face, I was reminded that sometimes I need a wake-up call. I need to be reminded that life is precious and people are more precious. Right now, have one purring cat in my lap that I must attend to, so I bid you all adieu and a good night.

The Final Exam of Life

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If there is a final exam at the end of my life (and I seriously hope there’s not one because I haven’t studied in a very long time), I like to think there would be one question. I think of all the questions God could ask, it will not be these:

“DId you read your Bible enough?’

“Did you tithe enough and support enough missionaries and causes?”

“Did you have the correct theological beliefs and vote for the person who toted the biggest Bible?”

None of these. One question will be on that final and it will be this:

“Did you love well?”

Did you love those people in your everyday life? Did you take time to speak to those in your office or classroom? Did you give friendly smile to people who passed you on the street? For all your talk of how much you love God, did people see it lived out in you toward those who needed it?

Love is about saying to someone, “I see you when nobody else does. I hear you when no one else will listen. I will do whatever I can to help you become the person you always wanted to be.”

That kind of love is the love God has toward us.

The problem is that we have too many likes and not enough love. We have too many Facebook friends and not enough real relationships. Our vision gets narrow and we miss the people around us who will go through an entire day without anyone speaking to them or acknowledging them.

I will say this.

It is not okay to ignore someone who speaks to you or texts you or messages you.

It is not okay to get up and move when someone sits down at your table just because you don’t feel like talking to them.

It is not okay to defriend someone or cut them off as punishment, especially if that person never knows what they did wrong.

It is not okay to be friendly to everyone in your office or class and single out one person to not talk to.

Remember, each person bears the image of God, distorted as it may be though sin. Each person is a uniquely valuable creation that God made and Jesus died for. To treat anyone less is to treat what God made and what Jesus died for with disdain. You can’t love God if you don’t love His people. All of them.

Even further, what you did to the least of these– regardless of whether they live in a third world country or next door, whether they dress in rags or tailor-made three piece suits, you do to Jesus.

I want to live my life so that at the end I can say I loved well as I was loved well by Jesus. I will never love perfectly, but I will never stop trying. I may lose my way from time to time, but God’s love will always gently guide me back to His heart for His people.

May we all find that love and live that love. May God’s heart for people be ours. And when that final question on that final exam comes, I’m praying we will not only know the answer in theory, but will have lived it out so that our lives are an essay and a testimony to how good God’s love is.

A Kairos Greeter Prayer

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“I want the last face you see in this world to be the face of love, so you look at me when they do this thing. I’ll be the face of love for you” (Sister Helen Prejean, Dead Man Walking).

Lord,

I’m just one person. There are so many hurting and lost people who feel like nobody sees them. There are so many crying out for someone to notice them in their pain and anguish. Some will be here tonight for Kairos. Some will bring their profound brokenness, their wrist scars, their needle marks, their shattered dreams, their dashed hopes.

Help the first face they see in mine to be the face of Love. For some, it could be the last face they see, and may they leave this world knowing they saw at least one face filled with Your lovingkindness.

Help them to not see Greg Johnson, but Jesus Christ. May it be His smile they see and His words they hear and His hope they receive.

Let Your joy be in me and let it overflow to those who walk by. May your peace radiate outward from me in tangible waves to those who are in bondage to fear and doubt and anxiety. May You be everything in that moment and may I be nothing but a vessel for You to love Your people through.

I can’t touch every single hurting person, but I can be Jesus to just one. I can love the person in front of me. I can show grace to the next person who walks by my door.

Most of all, may they not remember me or Michael Boggs and the worship team or Mike Glenn (or whoever else happens to be teaching that night). If they don’t remember any of the lyrics to any of the songs or anything of the message, may they walk away knowing they have met with You, the Almighty Creator and King of the Universe as well as the Abba Father and Counter of the Lowliest Sparrow.

And may they never be the same again.

Amen.

Back to Loving Being Me

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It really is okay to love yourself. After all, the Bible does say to love your neighbor as yourself and you can’t very well do that if you’re not too fond of you. I think there’s a kind of false modesty that gets passed around where we have the “aw shucks” mentality and downplay any compliments that come our way. I can tell you for certain that kind of thinking doesn’t come from God or the Bible.

God made you. He created you exactly how He wanted you to be and no matter how many scars and breaks and bruises and messes you may have accumulated along the way, He still loves the work of His own hands– you. No matter how you may have been rejected or friend-zoned by girls or guys, God is enraptured and enamored and captivated by you. He is completely and totally crazy in love with you.

I’m loving being me. I can say that I’m not like anybody else out there. That doesn’t make me odd. That might make me eccentric. What that does make me for absolute certain is unique. There is no one in the whole wide world quite like me, and I like that.

I love that I can be socially awkward at times. I love that I can be overly enthusiastic in my friendliness and sometimes be perceived as coming across a little creepy.  That’s okay. Aside from maybe needing to visit Decaf-land from time to time, I’m fine if not every single person likes what I have to offer. Many people were turned off by Jesus.

I love that when God sees me, He sees Jesus. He sees beauty and perfection and wisdom and strength beyond measure. He sees my very best self, the one only hinted at in my best moments of selfless devotion. He sees the finished product of who I will become.

As of this moment, I refuse to take on myself any names other than the ones He has given me. Not from family or friends. Not from co-workers. Not even from me. I don’t have to be defined by words spoken in frustration or anger or resignation. I am no longer the mistakes I’ve made or the chances I’ve missed or the good intentions coming up short.

I am Forgiven. I am Set Free. I am Redeemed. I am A New Creation. I am Blameless.

Of all the names God has given me, my favorite is this: I am His Beloved Son in whom He is well pleased.

My hope and prayer for you tonight is to let go of all the names you or anyone else has called you out of hate or anger and embrace the name given in love by your Creator and Redeemer and Savior. Listen to Him calling you His Beloved Child. Hear Him singing His delight over you and smiling over you. Let your life be defined by God’s pleasure over you instead of people’s disappointment in you.

I truly hope and pray that you will come to the point where you can truly and honestly say that you love being you.

All Those Celebrity Crushes

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It seemed so harmless. You know. The game where you name your celebrity crushes? How can there be any harm in it?

But I started thinking more about it today. Probably more than I should have. After all, one of my spiritual gifts is over-thinking things.

I think the problem is this. When we get involved in those crushes, we are buying into the world’s definition of beauty. And it is a very superficial, surface kind that only goes as deep as the glossy 8X10 paper it’s printed on.

Dr. Michael Easley, one of my favorite teachers, always says, “Don’t let the world teach you theology.” I say, “Don’t let the world define beauty for you.”

Beauty is more than body shapes and skin tones. For me, beauty isn’t what’s on the outside transforming the inward, but what’s on the inside coming out on the outside. In other words, a woman whose heart is at rest and who is comfortable in who she is as a woman will show a kind of beauty that make-up and cosmetics can’t touch. A man who is confident in how God made him and who knows who he is in Christ will have a kind of handsomeness that is more than chiseled abs and sculpted arms.

Beauty is who you are more than what you look like. Beauty is character– joy you can’t contain spilling out of every pore and coming out as kind of a glow. You know it when you see it. And like I’ve said before, you have to look with a different set of eyes to see it. You have to be able to look at others the way God looks at you.

Another thing. Celebrity crushes feed into distorted and unrealistic expectations and standards. Girls don’t want a nice guy. They want a nice guy who looks like Ryan Gosling. Guys want a sweet girl who looks like Kate Upton.

The problem is that no one looks like that. Not even those celebrities. There is always photoshopping and touching up that goes into the image. Not to say that physical attractiveness isn’t important, but hopefully what you find attractive in a person will be kindness and grace as much as looks.

So I’m currently deleting all my celebrity photos. Most of all, I’m going to start praying that God transforms my character into one that will attract the woman He has for me. I’m praying you won’t get so caught up in looking for the perfect man or woman that you miss that imperfect person who could make you perfectly happy. I’m praying you will let God choose, for God always gives the very best to those who leave the choice with Him (thanks to Elisabeth Elliot for that one).

I think I’m looking for a face to call home.

 

Movin’ On Up (To The East Side)

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Once again, I had the fun privilege of participating in the annual Belmont Move-In Day for incoming freshmen. You couldn’t have asked for better weather, i,e, mid 70’s with low humidity. It was perfect.

I had a blast as usual (this being my 3rd year) and was thankful yet again that the dorm I was assigned to didn’t have six floors. And that I was in much better physical shape than that first year.

I know college is supposed to be somewhat traumatic at first, but I think it’s the parents who are more traumatized than the kids. Most of the freshmen looked thrilled at the new possibilities and the open potential that lay ahead. The dads look mostly stoic and the moms looked to be on the verge of tears. Ok, not really, but that’s how I imagined the scenario playing out when no one else was watching.

Seeing a guy carrying up an old-school non-flat screen TV reminded me sharply of an old TV I dug out of a dumpster. It had the usual colors of a color TV, but it also had a green button that (amazingly enough) turned the whole screen green. I’m not sure what purpose that button served. It did make for interesting sit-com experiences.

That old TV worked for the rest of my senior year at Union University. In fact, it worked up until the day I brought it home. I can say for sure that I got my money’s worth out of it.

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Anyway, I met a lot of amazing people. From some of the Belmont students I met, I can tell you that my hope for the future is considerably brighter. They seem a lot more mature than most incoming college freshmen, Or at least more mature than I was at 19 (who am I kidding? I’m still not all that mature).

I’m praying that God will lead these freshmen to find godly mentors and older students who will walk ahead of them down that narrow road that few find, but leads to so many good things. I’m praying they take risks, go for broke, laugh a lot, cry without shame, and fall in love with Jesus more and more every day.

I’m praying that they will look at the naysayers that tell them that the world is too far gone and beyond saving and headed for hell in a handbasket (apparently, a very large one) and prove them wrong by going out and changing that world, one heart at a time.

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