lifestyle

In Everything Give Thanks

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Four little words say it all. In everything give thanks.

Notice it doesn’t say to give thanks FOR everything, but IN everything.

When you’re not sure if you will ever find another job, give thanks.

When you see loved ones getting older and weaker and more frail, give thanks.

When you wonder if the dreams God put in your heart will ever come to fruition and you’re hanging on by the most slender of threads, give thanks.

When you want to stomp and rage and cuss like a sailor at the way that person treated you, give thanks.

Give thanks that God is the same through it all. Give thanks that he has not forgotten you. Give thanks that he’s working through your pain and problems. Give thanks that God has been, is, and will always be God.

Give thanks that God works all things together for good. Give thanks that he will complete the good work he started in you. Give thanks that everything will be fine in the end, and if everything’s not fine, it’s not the end (borrowed from a really good movie).

In other words, in everything give thanks.

 

Scars

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I was watching Slumdog Millionaire tonight and the ending got me thinking. By the way, this is a spoiler alert, so if you haven’t already seen the movie and don’t want to know how it ends, don’t read any further.

Jamal, the main character, finds his true love, Nakita, at the train station. She’s trying to hide the scar on the side of her face, but he finds it anyway and gives her a kiss on the scar.

What a perfect picture of faith.

We all have scars we’re trying to hide. Some do a better job, so that you can’t tell they have any. Some don’t do as well because their scars are more obvious and less easily hidden.

We think God will be repulsed by our scars, by the bitter words we’ve spoken, by the horrendous things we’ve done, by the vile thoughts we’ve cherished from time to time. We’re sure that if he ever knew about those scars, he’d want nothing more to do with us. After all, haven’t so many people in our lives treated us that way? People we loved and trusted to be there for us always? They got one look at our scars and couldn’t get away from us fast enough.

I’m thankful every single day that God’s not like that. God seeks us out, and when he finds us, he gives us kisses of grace on our scars. He turns our scars into stories of transformation and amazing grace. Like I heard a pastor say, that one thing you never thought you’d ever confess to becomes the very first line of your testimony.

God appreciates scars because he’s got some of his own. Three to be exact. Two on his wrists and one in his side. They are reminders of the price he paid for you and me.

So maybe scars aren’t such a bad thing after all.

 

What Does God Look Like?

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As a child, I read about the hand of God and I wondered what that must have looked like. I thought surely God had big, strong hands to carry the world and everything and everyone in it. Plus, he’d have to have good aim for throwing all that lightning around. I couldn’t even bring myself to imagine what size shoe he would wear.

As I’ve grown older, I realize that God’s hands look much different than I used to think. God’s hands are calloused with scars and dirt under the fingernails. God’s hands. His hands look a lot like mine. In fact, my hands are his hands in a way. So are yours. God has chosen to work through and reach out with your hands and my hands.

As for his feet, they’ve seen a lot of wear and tear. They know that hurting people aren’t just next door or across the globe. They’re in both places and everywhere in between. I believe my God wears a size 8 1/2, because my feet are his feet going out to reach the hopeless and broken. It’s just a matter of if I choose to walk in his footsteps.

Our job as believers is to show God to the world. They see us and how we work and live and play and see God through what we say and what we do. How we reflect the image of God determines what view of God those around us will have.

So for me, that changes the way I look at myself. If I am created in God’s likeness and his image-bearer, then I look exactly like he wanted me to look. It changes the way I act. It changes me.

I pray that as we are being transformed more and more into the image and glory of God, we will in turn reflect that likeness and image on to those around us so that they can also see the goodness and the greatness of the God we serve.

Maybe that’s a good mindset to have for 2013.

A Week Full of Mondays

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I had a week full of Mondays this week. Except for Tuesday, which was Christmas Day and awesome. That goes without saying. But the rest of the week . . . not so much.

Some weeks are like that. No matter how much you try, you say the wrong things. You do the wrong things. And when you try to correct your mistakes, it just gets worse. It’s like your foot got surgically implanted into your mouth or something.

So I’m glad it will be Saturday tomorrow. I mean surely, Saturday can’t turn into ANOTHER Monday, can it?

I suppose the lesson out of all of this is that a bad week serves the purpose of making you thankful for the good weeks, if nothing else.

I can at least be thankful for that.

 

A Bittersweet Christmas

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bud

It’s been a bittersweet 2012 Christmas.

I’ve loved being with family and seeing my 14-month old niece getting the hang of walking and just starting to say her first words. Seeing my nephews’ faces light up with all their Christmas presents has been fun, too.

But today I’ve also been thinking a lot about my granddaddy who took his life 30 years ago tonight. It was Christmas Day 1982 when he decided that life wasn’t worth living anymore.

I still remember where I was when I found out about his suicide. I remember my pastor at the time coming over to tell me and how my 10-year old brain couldn’t process the news, so I went back to my room to watch the football game on my little black-and-white TV. I still don’t think I’ve completely processed it yet.

I have trouble remembering what he looked like, especially when he smiled, or what his laugh sounded like. I do know that I still miss him and I have so many things I’d like to tell him.

I’d tell him that he missed out on a lot. Like my sister and I growing up. Her getting married and having children. All of us getting older and closer together as a family. And most of all, how we’ve found God to be a comfort and a refuge.

I’d tell him that we all loved him so much. That we still love him so much, even 30 years after he left us. I’d tell him that there’s nothing so bad that family can’t help, and especially God’s love can’t get you through.

I’d say that I understand now a little better why he did what he did. I’m glad that he’s found peace at last in the arms of Jesus and has no more fears or worries or self-doubts.

I have something that belonged to him– an old tube radio from the 50’s that still works. It’s nice to be able to turn it on and think that I’m listening to the same radio that he kept on his workbench all those years. It makes me smile and remember him in happier times.

I’m a little more thankful for my family tonight. I hope to hug them more often, be more present in their lives, and tell them I love them as often as possible. You never know when it could be the last time you might have the chance.

A Christmas Carol And What Came Of It

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achristmascarol

 

This is not about how the 1951 Alistair Sims version of A Christmas Carol is by far my favorite and the definitive film adaptation of the Charles Dickens novel. Or how about how I watch it every single year during the Christmas season.

This is about how the movie affected me this particular year.

tiny tim

First of all, the scene of the Crachit family talking about Tiny Tim after his death affected me more this year than in years past. Maybe it was because the deaths of the 20 children in Newtown, Connecticut. The part where Mrs. Cratchit talks about how slowly Bob Cratchit walks now and how fast he used to walk with Tiny Tim on his shoulders. The line that really got to me was “But he was very light to carry, and his father loved him so, that it was no trouble, — no trouble.”

Of course, in the movie, Scrooge changes his ways and the that future is averted. It’s too bad that only happens in the movies.

But I love the part in the end of the movie when Scrooge is overcome with mirth over the transformation affected in his life from just one night. The best line in the whole movie for me is when Scrooge says, “I don’t deserve to be so happy. But I can’t help it. I just can’t help it.”

I know the feeling. Sometimes, I see the grace God has shown me and what I would have been without it and I get a little giddy. Not often, but when it happens, those moments are precious and treasured.

People who know the dark thoughts that sometimes cross their minds, who remember some of the terrible, stupid, awful things they’ve said and done, who wish with all their might they could go back and undo or unsay so many things, are the ones who truly understand and appreciate grace. People like me.

So this is the movie I’ll keep watching every year. And I pray this for you as I echo the words of Tiny Tim: “God bless us, every one!”

 

 

 

Shiny

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shiny78

 

Sometimes, the best theology lessons come from old kid’s TV specials. I saw Rudolph’s Shiny New Year again tonight and was reminded of a few things, thanks to Happy the Baby New Year.

Happy was just like every other baby new year except for one thing. He had big ears. Like Dumbo-sized big ears. And he was ashamed of them.

Whenever he took off his hat, he got laughed at. Even in the Archipelago of Last Years, where you would think people would be more tolerant, considering that they’re stuck in a time warp.

But as in all children’s programming, there’s a good moral lesson. Happy learns that not everybody is making fun of him. Some people are so filled with joy that they can’t help but laugh when they see him. And everything works out in the end, thanks to Rudolph and the gang, not forgetting Santa’s timely arrival.

The happiest people are the most content people. And the most content people are the ones who have learned to accept themselves as they are, not wishing they looked different or that they were somebody else. They have found what makes them tick and what makes them come alive and they are pursuing that.

The key is knowing who you are in Christ. It’s knowing how he sees you, not as a dirty rotten sinner but as a beloved child who was worth dying for. The one he calls precious and beloved.

May the best gift you get this year be the ability to love yourself as you are and the ability to love others the same. May you know how much you are loved by Abba Father himself. May you live out of that love every day.

I recommend watching an old children’s Christmas TV special or two. Especially the old ones. Those are the best.

 

Treasuring the Time

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I went to a Bible conference tonight. One of the last things the speaker talked about was losing his daughter.

He said that she loved Christmas and was the one who made it fun for everybody else. She always was the one to give out presents on Christmas Day and she loved giving far better than receiving.

But early this year, she died suddenly of a pulmonary embolism. No warning. No time to say goodbye. One moment she was here and the next, she was gone. That family’s Christmas will be very different this year.

That sobered me up a bit.

Life really is precious. We take for granted that not only we, but all those we love, will wake up tomorrow and we will be able to see them at the next holiday gathering. That goes for family and friends.

But tomorrows aren’t promised to anyone. Life is a gift, not an entitlement, and it is fleeing.

I have loved ones I wish I could go back and talk to one last time. I’d tell each of them how much I loved them and how much they meant to me and how I’ve missed them. But I can’t.

I can only say that to the ones still living.

Make a point to let the ones in your life know how much they mean to you. Be deliberate in telling your family and friends how much you love them and cherish them. Don’t assume that you’ll have tomorrow to tell them.

The best part of the Christmas story is that goodbyes aren’t forever anymore. One day, we will see the ones we have loved and missed all these years. One day God will wipe away every tear from our eyes. One day everything we’ve lost will be restored to us a thousand-fold.

Until then, live each day as a gift. Treasure the time you have and treasure the people around you, for you never know when they won’t be there.

 

It’s in the Details

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“Let the peace of Christ keep you in tune with each other, in step with each other. None of this going off and doing your own thing. And cultivate thankfulness. Let the Word of Christ—the Message—have the run of the house. Give it plenty of room in your lives. Instruct and direct one another using good common sense. And sing, sing your hearts out to God! Let every detail in your lives—words, actions, whatever—be done in the name of the Master, Jesus, thanking God the Father every step of the way” (Colossians 3:15-17).

I’ve had a hard time coming up with something to write tonight. That happens to me periodically. I search my brain for a memory or a word or a phrase I heard earlier to trigger an idea that becomes a blog, but I get nothing. I can hear the wheels in my head a-turnin’, but apparently the hampster has gone off to sleep somewhere.

I do know that it’s useless to spend your whole life waiting for the next big event. If you’re single, that means waiting until you find someone to date. If you’re dating, that means waiting until you are engaged and then married. If you’re married, it means waiting until the first child is on the way. And so on.

If you’re not careful, you get so caught up in looking ahead in anticipation that you miss what is in front of you. A smiling face. A kind word. A small blessing.

Those little things help you along the road to becoming the person who is ready for the next big event. How you treat the people around you now will determine if you’re ready for your next phase.

So be compassionate now. Love unconditionally now. Be content now. Trust God now.

He will take care of getting you to the next step.

 

 

Lost and Found

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Today, I found an old poster I made. It was when Lucy my cat got out on the day before Christmas Eve and got lost and I couldn’t find her for 2 days. I was a wreck, emotionally and physically and in every other way. But as I sit here typing, I can see her giving herself a bath. It’s been almost 9 years ago, but she’s still around and none the worse for wear, save a tiny scar on her nose and a few extra pounds.

I had just about given up hope of ever finding her again. I would look at pictures of her on my computer and bawl like a baby. I really thought she was gone for good.

But today I was reminded that I too was lost once. Maybe not as dramatically, but I was lost. Then Jesus found me. I know I’ve taken that for granted for far too long, but today I am especially grateful that he did.

It doesn’t matter if you’re 7, like I was, or 77. If you feel lost, you can know the feeling of what it means to be found again. You can know that not only is someone out there looking for you, but that Someone has found you and is calling you back home.

Lucy is 12 now. She’s a bit slower and she sleeps more now. But I’m still thankful that she’s still around. I still think finding her again on Christmas Eve was my best Christmas present.

I’m also thankful that Jesus has still got me. He’s not letting go. He won’t let me get lost again, even though I may still try at times to run away. He promised not to leave or forsake me.

Here’s a prayer for all the prodigals in your life. May they hear the call of their Father and find their way home. I’m glad I did once.