Me Too

I think that sometimes the most powerful words you can ever say or hear from a friend are, “Me too.”

It means that you’re not alone in your struggle. In your fear. In your doubt.

It means that at least one person knows what you’re going through and you’re not the freakish weirdo out of the whole human race who has your particular issue.

It means that two are more of you are gathered together and that’s where God really shows up.

When I heard a speaker say that he fears when people find out what he’s really like, they will abandon him, I said in my heart, “Me too.” He had named my fear almost verbatim the way I would have named it.

That was comforting. To know that a well-known speaker has the same fear I do was good to know, but that another human being shares that phobia meant the world to me.

So remember you’re not alone in your struggle. You are not a freak of nature. Others are walking the same road that you are, even though you may feel like the only one.

There’s a website called nomorevoices.com where you can name what the voices are telling you. The only response will be, “Me too.”

So remember when you’re in the depth of your struggles that you are not alone. Others are in the same place you are.

And most of all, God knows.

 

More About the Whole Waiting Business

If you’ve ever had to wait for something you wanted, you know how hard it can be.

If you’ve ever been through the process of looking for a job and felt one door after another slamming in your face, you know how discouraging it can feel and begin to doubt yourself a little.

Or maybe you’ve been waiting for that right person for what seems like forever and you’re beginning to think they will never come, you know how sick of heart you can get.

There is nothing that God makes you wait for that won’t be worth it. The fact that it’s taking him this long must mean it’s really good. After all, he did create the whole world in 7 days, so if he’s taking longer than that with your life, you know the result will be spectacular.

The easy thing to do is to give up on yourself, on others, and on God. Don’t.

The hard thing to do is keep trusting, keep believing, and keep holding on to the promise that God always finishes what he starts.

But nothing worthwhile was ever easy. Nothing that matters comes without effort and sweat and blood and tears. Just ask Jesus about what that feels like.

If you can’t trust your whole future to God, just trust him for the next 24 hours and see what happens.

I have to remind myself of a few things because I’m so forgetful and prone to worry.

1) God is good. All the time.

2) God hasn’t forgotten you or where you are.

3) God will complete the good work he started in you.

May we not only learn to wait, but to wait well and expectantly.

 

 

An Easter Reboot

resurrection

“The truth, even though I cannot feel it right now, is that I am the chosen child of God, precious in God’s eyes, called the Beloved from all eternity and held safe in an everlasting embrace… We must dare to opt consciously for our chosenness and not allow our emotions, feelings, or passions to seduce us into self-rejection” (Henri Nouwen).

The stone was rolled away from the door, not to permit Christ to come out, but to enable the disciples to go in” (Peter Marshall).

Sometimes, it takes Easter to get my mind refocused. Like so many of you, I can get off track so very easily and forget who I am and what I’m here for. I need to be reminded that I am indeed the beloved, the chosen child of God. My purpose is to live that out as best I can, to become what God has already declared me to be.

I take Easter for granted because I already know how the story ends. Or at least I think I do.

In fact, Easter isn’t an end, but a beginning. C. S. Lewis in his book, The Last Battle, said that all of history was merely a title page and a preface. Eternity is the real beginning of the book, where each chapter is better than the last and the story is truly neverending.

Easter reminds me that my forgiveness might have been free for me, but not free. it might have not cost me anything, but it was not without cost. I don’t need to forget that my forgiveness cost God the very highest price and is the most extravagant gift ever given in history. I don’t need to take that lightly or for granted.

Easter also reminds me that failure isn’t final, that goodbyes aren’t forever, and that truth and faith and love and hope all survive the grave and come out stronger on the other side. I guess that’s why I love it so much.

 


 

A Thought or Two from Mr. Chesterton

I’ve been staring at my laptop screen for 45 minutes and I have come to one very astute conclusion: I got nothin’. I can’t think of anything to write about that would interest me, much less you.

The writer’s mental blank happens to me every so often, because thinking of something new to write about every single day is harder than it seems. At least for me.

So I’m borrowing some thoughts from a dead guy named G. K. Chesterton who wrote some pretty good books back in his day which you should check out if you have some free time to read and want something more to feast on than sparkly vampires in angst. These are his actual words that I’m borrowing, by the way.

“Literature is a luxury; fiction is a necessity.”

“I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought; and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.”

“Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.”

“The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.”

“The Bible tells us to love our neighbors, and also to love our enemies; probably because generally they are the same people.”

These go to show you that there is very little to say that hasn’t already been said at least once during the history of the written word. My job (or the job of anyone who communicates through writing) isn’t to reinvent the wheel– or in this case, the ink pen– but to more often than not remind you of what you already knew but forgot that you knew.

Just Some Thoughts From Another Good Night at Kairos

In spite of the cold and rain, it was a good night. At Kairos, Mike Glenn wrapped up the series called “What’s Love Got to Do With It?” with some final thoughts on what true love is. And yes, you know that Tina Turner song is now stuck in your head.

I remember reading somewhere that love isn’t sentiment as much as it is service. It isn’t feelings as much as it is action. As the old dc talk song says, “Love is a verb.”

Most of the time, we think of love as a contract. I’ll love you if you love me back, but don’t expect me to keep loving you if you quit. In other words, you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.

But God’s love isn’t a contract. It’s a covenant where he essentially says to his people, “I will always be your God, your Savior, your Lord, your Provider, and your Defender.”

His love isn’t contingent on ours. I’d be in serious trouble if that were the case. His love is forever.

In Matthew, Jesus defines real love. It’s one thing to love those who love you back and be friends with those who are easy to get along with that. Anybody can do that, with or without God’s help. But it’s entirely another thing to love your enemies and do good for those who despise you. It takes supernatural grace to do that.

In other words, people expect you to give as good as you get. They expect you to fight fire with fire, anger with anger, grudges with grudges, and hate with hate. But Jesus is calling us to fight anger with kindness, grudges with forgiveness, and hate with love. That’s the only way to end the seemingly endless cycle.

Love doesn’t stay put. It goes to where the hurting people are, to where the need is greatest, to the dangerous places that most people won’t go. It looks for and draws out the best in the other person, even when that other person can’t see it.

We need more love like that. I need more love like that. An unbelieving and lost and hurting world needs to see love like that.

To All the Wallflowers in the World

perks

I finally broke down and rented The Perks of Being a Wallflower from Redbox. In case you were wondering, that was the infamous movie that I had a ticket for the night I got hit by that car in downtown Franklin. Yeah, that was the movie I missed. Well, I finally saw it, almost two months later.

One line really struck me. “We accept the love we think we deserve.”

I had always wondered why I saw nice, pretty girls who always seemed to date guys who struck me as obnoxious, loud jerks. I wondered why they did that when there were nice guys (like me) available.

You could argue that most of the nice guys (again like me) never got up the nerve to ask out the nice, pretty girls. But I do think that people who don’t think much of themselves will settle for relationships that aren’t the best for them.

In case you’re wondering if this is going to be yet another blog on dating, it’s not.

I wonder how many of us really know our own worth. We tend to repeatedly replay every minor criticism and downplay every compliment out of a false modesty that really isn’t modest at all. If you and I are honest, we don’t think much of ourselves most of the time and we project that on to how we perceive others to not like us or acknowledge us.

Maybe you think nobody ever sees you or feels your pain or even cares that you’re hurting. Maybe you wonder why you bother getting up in the morning only to spend the entire day being overlooked and ignored by everyone around you.

Let me remind you that God thought you worth loving. Well, let me rephrase that. God chose to love you because he wanted to and in loving you, he made you lovable and worth loving. Maybe that only makes sense if you’re tired and still awake after midnight, but there it is.

God formed you with his own hands, breathed his own breath into you, and called you very good. You are made in the image of God and there is no one else exactly like you. You are God’s poem, his masterpiece, his workmanship.

So whenever you are tempted in any way to settle for less than God’s very best, remember that you are worth loving because God said so. And anybody who says or acts otherwise doesn’t deserve you.

 

Seeing With New Eyes

I had a flashback to an old memory. Actually, it was less of a flashback and more of a memory of my mother telling me about it.

When I was 4 or so, I had the notion to pour Comet Cleanser on my head. It seemed like a fine idea at the time to my 4-year old mind. That is, until it got into my eyes.

I don’t remember any of this, but apparently I burned or damaged my retinas pretty severely. I had to stay in a dark room away from bright lights and have drops in my eyes every four hours. According to the story, there was some doubt as to whether my retinas would grow back.

They did.

I don’t know what triggered that memory. I do know that I’ve had experiences that have caused me to look at myself and others through new eyes.

Like tonight. The teacher at Kairos spoke about the tale of the Good Samaritan. Only he said that Jesus taught the parable to show us not that we’re the Samaritan who helps others, but the badly beaten, naked man lying in a ditch on the side of the road, desperate for help.

Maybe you’ve thought to yourself, “Hey, I’m a nice person. I try to help others and do the right thing most of the time.”

But if you’re honest you look at your life and you see deception and manipulation. You see those times when you failed and didn’t do the right thing. You know that if people could read your mind and see some of the thoughts you have in the dark of night, they wouldn’t think you were so nice.

The fact is that we’re all in need of rescue. We’re not as noble or kind or brave as we thought we were. We’re not nearly as able to help ourselves.

But Jesus is so much stronger than we ever knew. He’s so much more than able to reach down and rescue us from the messes we fall into. He’s able to change us into loving people who don’t do kind things as much as they exude kindness. It’s his love inside us by which we love others who aren’t lovable.

I know even after more than three decades of being a Christian, I need Jesus every bit as much now as I did when I first believed. The only thing that’s changed is that I see so much more clearly how good and great he is, how much he loves me, and how committed he is to me.

I haven’t had any more eye emergencies since. Hopefully, I’m smart enough now not to pour household cleaners on my head. Lesson learned.

 

Not Alone

Have you ever looked at somebody else who seems to have it all together and been a little envious? Maybe it’s a guy with the classic good looks who has a successful career and always seems to have a beautiful girl on his arm. Or maybe a girl who never seems to have any problems and is the one that every guy wants to talk to.

Admit it. You’ve envied. You’ve coveted. You’ve probably wanted to trade places or, if you’re feeling really spiteful, you hope something bad happens to that person. Not tragically bad, but embarassingly bad.

But have you ever stopped and wondered what really goes on in that person’s life? Do you ever stop to think that maybe behind that perfect facade, that person is hurting. Maybe that person is looking at you and envying you for something he or she doesn’t have.

The point is that you never know the whole story. You only see the surface, not what’s underneath. You may never see the pain, the frustration, the unfulfilled longings, the pent-up anger, the quiet desperation.

Maybe that person is you. Maybe you’re the one who’s hanging by a thread to your faith, who has all but given up on believing that anything will really ever change. Maybe you just don’t feel anything anymore and don’t think God really knows or cares about you.

You’re not alone.

I know when I’ve been deeply discouraged, the words “I know what you’re going through” were more helpful to me than the person speaking them realized. I didn’t want to hear that everything was going to be fine. I didn’t need to hear what I needed to do to get over it. I just needed to know that I wasn’t alone in my struggle.

The biggest lie of the enemy is that you are the only one struggling and that you can never tell anyone, but most go on secretly bearing your pain and shame. The truth is that we are all broken in some way, dealing with a shameful past full of secrets and a pain that never seems to go away. Some are just better at hiding their brokenness than others.

So, even though you might not want to hear it at the moment, it will get better. It did for me. God does know where you are and what you’re going through and yes, he does care. He even loves you in spite of the dark bitter thoughts you carry in your mind.

And you are most definitely not alone.

 

Another Break from Facebook

I was about to call it a night when I realized something. I’d forgotten to write my blog for the day. So here it is, at 1:06 a.m., so don’t be looking for any Pulitzer-worthy materials.

I’m taking a break from facebook. It’s been two days now and I haven’t been to the website once. I’ve thought about it fifty times, but so far I’ve restrained myself.

The last time I did it I was angry and upset by what I perceived to be someone ignoring one of my comments. I knew I had to get my head right and get my thinking straight again. It lasted 10 days and I felt like a new man afterward.

This time, there’s no anger. This time it’s a conscious effort to do without something so I know it doesn’t have a hold on me. I guess you could say I’m giving up facebook for Lent. I’m not really sure how long this is supposed to last. I’m guessing up until Easter. But I didn’t grow up observing Lent, so I really don’t have much of a clue about these things.

All I know is that it’s supposed to be time to spend in prayer and in God’s word. Theoretically, every time I get the urge to check my page or see what my facebook friends are up to, I instead pick up my Bible and pray. I’ll be honest and say that I haven’t done a very good job of that yet.

But I have a few weeks to go, so maybe by that time, I’ll be more disciplined.

To my facebook friends, if you’re reading this, I haven’t forgotten you. I haven’t abandoned you. I’m taking a much-needed break and I will be back. You can still contact me through email or text messaging. You can even hunt me down in person, if you get the notion.

This isn’t really super-spiritual. It’s just me letting you know that I’m alright and God is still working on me.

A Letter from Jesus to His Church

Disclaimer: If you’re looking for something warm and fuzzy and feel-good, this is not it. You can skip to the next blog, which will be about fuzzy bunnies and cute kittens.

I was wondering if Jesus wrote a letter to one of his churches, particularly the post-modern trendy churches popping up all over the place, I’d bet it would go something like this:

“I came to one of your services and sat in the back row. I felt unwelcome and unwanted. Nobody turned around and greeted me. Nobody even so much as acknowledged my presence there.

They sang songs about me with great enthusiasm, about how great I am to save and how mighty God is. The preacher spoke at great length about how important it is to know me. But I walked in and out of the building and no one even saw me.

You have an amazing facility with some of the latest technology. You have some of the best singers and musicians leading the worship and one of the best speakers to motivate my people. But if there’s no real love behind it, it’s all just noise. And I didn’t see much love.

I came as one of the least of these. The outcast, the loser, the nobody. The ones you say you love, but your actions prove otherwise.

Get back to loving the unlovely. Don’t just associate with the popular and the trendy and those who have it all together. Take time for the ones who are sitting by themselves, who are  socially awkward, who can’t do anything for you and probably can’t even say “Thank you.”

When you serve one of the least of these, you serve me. When you ignore them you ignore me.

Remember that I loved you when you were one of these. I loved you when you hated me, when your life was a wreck and you were hopelessly lost. Remember how that love felt and how it made you come alive. Then go and share it with someone who needs it most.