missions

Being a Barnabas

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / 1 Comment

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Do you have any Barnabas-type people in your life?

Barnabas was one of the first missionaries sent out by the early Church, commissioned by the Apostles themselves. His name meant “son of encouragement” and he was the one who believed in people when others couldn’t or wouldn’t. First it was Paul then later John-Mark.

When people were still afraid of Paul and wouldn’t touch him with a 10-foot pole after his murderous past, Barnabas was the one who stood up for him and helped him get his start. When that same Paul wanted to give up on John-Mark after he had a meltdown on the mission field and deserted them, Barnabas stood by the young believer, even though it meant the end of Paul and Barnabas as a missions team.

Barnabas was the one guy you wanted in your corner who wouldn’t give up on you. Although I’m fairly certain he preferred not to be called Barney, although that is strictly my own speculation.

How many times has someone been a Barnabas to you?

Maybe when you’d messed up and felt like no one should give you a second chance, someone did. Maybe that someone believed in you even when you doubted yourself and believed for you when you couldn’t find the faith to believe. Someone who encouraged and inspired and challenged you to do more than you ever thought you could.

Have you ever been Barnabas to someone else?

Maybe someone needs your encouragement right now. Maybe someone has run out of faith and doesn’t see how their circumstances will ever improve or how they will ever be useful to the Kingdom. It could be your words to inspire that person and it could be your faith that gets them through.

All I know is that no one gets through this life alone. All of us will be in need at some point and all of us will be in a position to fill a need at some point. Just remember it’s just as wrong to refuse someone’s help as it is to see someone else in need and do nothing. Either way, your robbing someone of the blessing of giving– either yourself or the other.

Remember Who stood up for you when no one else would. Remember Who took your place when you least deserved it.

Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive

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Sometimes, life will hand you lemons. You could make them into lemonade, but without sugar and water to go with it, your lemonade is really going to suck. Or you could freeze those lemons and throw them at all those people who really annoy you. Just a thought.

Maybe it’s a friend who really disappointed you and wasn’t around when you needed them. Maybe it’s a long work week where you seem to have not only two left feet but two left hands as well. Maybe it’s just a general sense of discouragement at where you find yourself compared to so many others.

Here’s the cure. Focus on the good things in your life, or as the old song says. accentuate the positive.

Here are some of my positives which may or may not inspire you to find your own (or you could just steal mine if you like):

1) I woke up this morning and got out of bed and got dressed and went to work. It may not seem like much, but I know a lot of people who didn’t get that privilege today.

2) I greet on Tuesdays at Kairos (a young adult worship experience) with some of the most amazing people, each of whom I am blessed to know and to call friends.

3) The three C’s essential to any early morning– coffee, chocolate, and caffeine. All three are marvelous.

4) I can pull out my Bible (or pull out my iPhone or my iPad and bring up my Bible app) and instantly be encouraged and motivated and strengthen at any time of day or night.

5) Instead of lamenting about how far I am from where I need to be, I can celebrate how far I’ve already come and who I am now versus who I used to be.

6) If I look through eyes of faith, I can always find blessings and joys stashed throughout my week and choose to live out Eucharisteo in every moment.

7) No matter how bad my day may suck, it will never last more than 24 hours. No matter how bad the week seems, it will never have more than 7 days. And that includes Friday and Saturday.

8) My cat Lucy is always happy to see me when I come home and loves to tell me how her day went. Ok, not really. She’s more the silent type, but still her presence is a great comfort to me.

9) I love seeing how my nephews and niece are discovering this great big world and their place in it. They are becoming who God made them to be and I love the previews I get of what that will look like.

10) I have my favorite places that always make me happy: my corner of the couch in the morning, downtown Franklin, serving at Kairos and Room in the Inn, and being around my family and friends.

Joy is a choice that I must make every single day. If I want my life to matter and if I want the people I live with and work with and play with to see a difference in me, the only way is me living out of joy and gratitude and thanksgiving at the never ending goodness and mercy and steadfast love of God.

And there’s those three C’s.

Broken and Shared

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A friend of mine wrote these words: “Unless grapes and grain are broken there will be no bread and wine. Unless the broken are shared there will be no communion.”

Elisabeth Elliot wrote, “If my life is broken when given to Jesus, it may be because pieces will feed a multitude when a loaf would satisfy only a little boy.”

Sometimes, in order for God to use me, I have to be broken before I can be shared.

No, I take that back. EVERY time God gets ready to use me He starts first by breaking me. Every single time.

I don’t mean every time I completely fall apart and lose every possession and wind up destitute. I mean usually a dream of mine dies. Or a friend lets me down. Or I find myself overwhelmed by life.

It’s the day to day stuff that I stumble over most often. The big crises find me more calm and trusting in God’s strength and provision. But the small details get to me.

Dying to self isn’t always as grand and dramatic as taking a bullet for someone you love. It means dying a thousand times in a thousand small ways every day. It means dying to self-rights, to pride, to vanity, to my own way of seeing and doing things. Those are the hard deaths.

If you are going through brokenness, take comfort in this. God will bless so many more with your broken life than He could with your perfect life. Everything you’ve lost, God will restore a thousand fold, in the lives of a thousand people who find the hope of God’s provision in your story of ruin and redemption.

I still don’t like pain. I don’t like discomfort or inconvenience. I get impatient in front of the microwave, for crying out loud.

But I trust God’s leading. I trust His heart more than my own feelings, my own perceived need for comfort and safety and calm. Trusting that the bridge built with planks of thanksgiving and joy will hold up until I get all the way Home.

Pumpkinfest 2013: My Take and Other Thoughts Thrown in for Free

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I had a great time at Pumpkinfest 2013 in downtown Franklin. I even got in a bit of exercise, parking in The Factory and walking the rest of the way.

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I stopped in at all my favorite haunts (get it? haunts on a Halloween celebration?) including McCreary’s Irish Pub, Frothy Monkey, Sweet CeCe’s, and St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. It was great.

It was crowded, to say the least, They had Main Street blocked off from 1st Ave all the way to 5th Ave. There were lots of families with little kids dressed up in costumes. Even a few dogs had costumes. I’m sure while the owners were all like “How cute he looks” or “How adorable he looks,” the dogs were all probably thinking, “Kill me now. Please.”

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There were booths everywhere. Crafts, food, music. You name it. It was there.

I’m sure the people who work there are glad that these festivals only happen every so often. Every place was packed out the entire time I was there. That had to make for a long work day, especially on a Saturday.

I try to be as positive and encouraging a customer as I can. I know it sounds like a K-Love commercial, but it’s true. I’ve done enough time in retail to know that people are used to rude and ungracious customers. I think part of being like Jesus is to make people feel as good about themselves as possible. To help them see all they could be. Plus, that one encouraging word could mean the difference between a completely crappy day and a somewhat good day.

I love seeing my friends in downtown Franklin. They always make me feel at home there, especially at McCreary’s. I know just about all the servers there and even pray for them regularly by name.

I’d like to be the person people remember fondly, but I’m praying that even if they don’t remember me at all, I’ve shown them Jesus in such a way that they never forget HIM. After all, it won’t matter about who knew me in the end, but it will mean everything as to whether people know Jesus or not.

I can’t wait until the Christmas Dickens in the Square festival.

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Strictly Grace Lessons

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I saw a movie tonight. For the first 10 or so minutes, I wasn’t so sure I had made a wise blu-ray purchase. But by the end, I was loving it. It’s now my very favorite Baz Luhrmann movie.

Kinda like grace.

Sometimes, like the movie, grace calls us to step out from what’s normal and expected. Grace calls us to go to places no one in their right mind would go and to love people no one else wants to be around, much less love.

Grace has a rhythm all its own, one that can’t be counted but only felt in the heart. Grace dances to a different drummer with different steps and leads to the most unexpected yet most amazing places.

Sometimes, you have to let go of people who don’t understand or who don’t want to walk your new path with you. Sometimes, you will meet up with the people you least expected to follow you in this new grace-dance.

I realize I am probably mixing all kinds of metaphors here, but my point is this. Be YOU and chase YOUR dream and pursue YOUR calling. YOU have a role in the Kingdom of God that only you can play, a note only you can sing, a dance step only you can do.

I know that I never would have dreamed I’d be where I am (much less be full of this much joy). I may not have much or look like much according to the typical definitions of success and accomplishments, but I am finding out what  it means to be the Beloved and to live out of that Love. It’s better than any six figure salary or trophy wife or mansions or fancy cars.

I still love being me, although I sometimes still have moments of awkward goofiness. That’s what makes me me. That’s the way God made me and He’s the only one I ultimately have to please, Not you. Not Me. God.

That’s all that matters.

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Learning to Listen Well

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I love serving at Room in the Inn at my church during the colder months of the year. It helps more than anything to get me out of myself and into a more others-centered mind frame.

Tonight, I went to a dinner where Dr. Ken Corr, Congregational Care Minister at Brentwood Baptist Church, spoke about how to effectively minister to the homeless. One of the takeaways for me was empathetic listening.

Empathetic listening seeks to understand what the person speaking is feeling. It’s where you step into that person’s shoes and hear the story from their side.

It’s not about giving advice or trying to fix their story to make it better. It’s not even about offering to give their story a better outcome. It’s certainly not about formulating your response (as I have so often done) so that you will come across as wiser and kinder than you really are.

For someone to tell you their story is a rare and precious gift. They are inviting you into their private world, letting you in to a place that few people have been allowed. You should value that trust and respect the gift.

But also, the gift of truly listening is equally a special gift to someone. You’re saying to that person, “You are not invisible, because I see you in your struggles and triumphs, joys and pains. You are not alone, because I am a witness to your story and I know where you’ve been and what you’ve been through.”

You earn the right to speak life and blessing into a person’s life by listening to not just their words, but the feelings behind those words. Many times, the person will be unable to understand their own feelings related to their story. You can share what their story made you feel and in that way help them understand their own emotions.

I want to be a better listener. I want to learn to listen to what you have to say, for that is one of the ways God often speaks to me. May we all learn to listen well.

Another Bonfire and More Eucharisteo

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My community group met at a friend’s house for a bonfire. This wasn’t quite like the last one. I felt like a bit of a fifth wheel (or in this case, a seventh wheel).

I’m not blaming anybody but myself. I was tired and not feeling particularly Tookish. For those who have a life and haven’t read everything Tolkien has ever written at least ten times, it means my social butterfly side was dormant and my awkward caterpillar side was in charge.

I left early and ended up at Blue Coast Burrito. The girl who worked there complimented me on my I Am Second bracelet and that led to a good conversation. It turns out she is a missionary with Mobilizing Students and is looking to go live overseas in the next year or two.

It was a God-moment. Eucharisteo at work. If I had gone to Bar-B-Cutie’s (like I very nearly did), I would have missed this moment. If I had stayed at the bonfire, I would have not met Jenny, whose fervor for her calling blessed me.

God has a funny way of turning off nights into new adventures. I’m learning in my walk of faith to expect the unexpected and to be certain that God is always working around me, even on random Friday nights in October.

I don’t know what I’ll be doing this time tomorrow or where I’ll be. I know the same God who showed up tonight will be there and I know it will be another good night.

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An Invitation

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Imagine you go to the mailbox. It’s a crisp autumn day and the leaves are just starting to fall off the trees.

Inside the mailbox, you see the usual assortment of bills, ads, junk mail, and more bills. But one stands out. It’s a very ornate envelope with your name handwritten in calligraphy.

Inside you find a golden ticket with your name engraved, inviting you to a special banquet. Imagine the fanciest restaurant you’ve ever eaten at times ten and this is where you’re invited.

Jesus has invited you to dine with Him.

Some will decline. Some will make excuses and find reasons not to come. Some will put careers or possessions or relationships ahead of this invitation.

Maybe you feel like declining for different reasons.

You say, “How can I possibly afford this?”

There’s a slip inside the envelope that reads, “Paid in Full.”

You think, “Does this person know who he’s inviting? I’m nobody. I don’t matter to anyone. If I died tomorrow, nothing would be different and no one would notice my absence.”

Or you think, “Does he know what I’ve done. How I’ve lied and cheated and stolen and broken promises? How I’ve left a train-wreck of destroyed lives and broken people?”

You know you don’t deserve an invitation. I didn’t. I offered up every excuse I could think of. “No one wants me there.” “I ruin everything I touch.” “People are better off without me in their lives, or better yet, would have been better off if they’d never met me.”

The invitations kept coming.

“I know who you are and what you’ve done. You matter enough to me for me to purchase your place at My table with My own life and My own blood.”

Do you know Jesus wants you? Do you believe it? Do you understand He thought you were to die for? Do you fully grasp that Jesus loves you in this moment, just as you are and not as you should be or could be?

All you have to do is say YES to His invitation and He steps into Your life, into the messiest, most broken parts you’ve been too ashamed to show to anyone. He starts bringing healing and wholeness and purpose and direction to your life.

Will you say YES? It’s up to you. No one will force you to go. But this offer won’t last forever. Trust me. Whatever you think is more important doesn’t begin to compare with this feast, with Who’s offering it to you.

Just you think about that for a while.

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.

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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