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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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Radical in the Daily Minutae (Based on a Conversation From Earlier Today)

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“Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be the living expression of God’s kindness: kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile” (Mother Teresa).

“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).

A new friend of mine commented on how she’s felt God has put foreign students on her heart. She went on to describe how she’s able to be in a place to share the love of God with Asian and Middle Eastern students. Then she said something that struck me. She said that she wished she could be more radical in her ministry.

If I could have a re-do on that conversation, I’d tell her this:

Every time you’re faithful in the little things, you are being radical.

Every time you pray to see others through God’s eyes, you are a radical.

Every day you seek not just to hear and believe the words of Jesus such as “Go the extra mile” or “Turn the other cheek”, but to put them into practice and live them out, you are a radical believer.

If it bothers you that there are people around you who don’t know the true peace of Christ, you are truly a radical follower of Christ.

So many times, we think of radical as big. Either it’s the extreme radical terrorists, whether they be militant Islamic or eco-terrorists. We think of leading the Calvary into a last stand kind of charge or stepping in front of a bus to save the life of a child. But more often than not, radical acts are sometimes those that we never see or know about– at least not in this lifetime.

Mother Teresa said once, “We can do no great things, only small things with great love.”

Small things done with great love are the most radical kinds of acts. Radical forgiveness. Radical kindness. Radical nonviolent resistance. Radical silence. Radical joy.

These are small acts that changed the course of history.

Wherever you are, be faithful. Do what you know God has called you to do. Don’t look down on the menial tasks or the unimportant details. Anything done out of a great love for God becomes more than just an act. It becomes worship.

May all that you and I say and do come out of a grateful heart overwhelmed at the love of God. May we see nothing too small or too trivial or be too holy to get our hands and knees dirty. May we see where we are as a mission field and each person who confronts us as a person Jesus died for who needs to know that kind of love.

May we always be radical in the little things.

Things I Love 35: Just When You Thought It Was Safe To Get Back on the Internet . . .

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“That which tears open our souls, those holes that splatter our sight, may actually become the thin, open places to see through the mess of this place to the heart-aching beauty beyond. To Him. To the God whom we endlessly crave” (Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are).

“God is good and I am always loved” (Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are).

“The whole of the life — even the hard — is made up of the minute parts, and if I miss the infinitesimals, I miss the whole. These are new language lessons, and I live them out. There is a way to live the big of giving thanks in all things. It is this: to give thanks in this one small thing. The moments will add up”  (Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are).

Yeah, just when you thought I was done with this series, I resuscitate it and bring it back from the world wide graveyard. I’m not even close to being finished with all these thousand and more gifts I’ve received in my lifetime. It’s probably closer to 10,000. Actually, if I were completely honest, there’d be no way to count the blessings in my life for no human number goes that high. So I’ll do my best, starting at #1,036.

1,036) Yet more good coffee and conversation with another friend at Frothy Monkey (after a bit of confusion as to which Frothy Monkey).

1,037) When I stop comparing myself to others and instead compare myself to where I used to be.

1,038) Politically Correct Bedtime Stories.

1,039) Seeing my Romanian friend and sister-in-Christ happily married.

1,040) Rubbing my bare feet against carpet.

1,041) Not getting elbowed in the head or having my bare feet stepped on during volleyball games.

1,042) That possibly the best days and moments of my life are still yet to come.

1,043) Not getting counted off anymore for split infinitives.

1,044) Friends who actually make time to keep up with me and encourage me regularly.

1,045) All the old episodes of Are You Being Served?

1,046) Memories of watching TV as a kid with my uncle in the old camper on our property in Christiana.

1,047) That I’m not named after an airline.

1,048) Anticipating yet another Jonny Lang album coming out in September.

1,049) My gigantic over-the-ears headphones that I use to listen to music late at night sometimes.

1,050) Making up words when I don’t know the actual lyrics to a song.

1,051) Finding out what the actual lyrics are to a song I’ve been singing wrong all this time.

1,052) Just about any movie or TV show featuring Judi Dench.

1,053) Catching up with Union University classmates.

1,054) Ditto for Briarcrest classmates.

1,055) That God loves the crazy people as much as the “sane” ones.

1,056) The short spontaneous conversation I had with the girl named Rebecca who was reading that Mark Batterson book.

1,057) Every one of the 300+ pictures I took at the Set Free VBS this year.

1,058) Seeing those kids being prayed over and loved on and shown Jesus.

1,059) Every time the Kingdom of God takes back a person or a place from the kingdom of darkness.

1,060) Mastering the art of making pimento cheese.

1,061) Saying the words “pimento cheese.”

1,062) Classic devotionals by people like Oswald Chambers and Charles Spurgeon.

1,063) Bowling a game over 100.

1,064) Silence. Sometimes.

1,065) That even my fidelity to God is a gift from God (thanks to Thomas Merton for that one.

1,066) Friends who know the song in my heart and can sing it back to me when I’ve forgotten the words.

1,067) Any old Frank Capra movie.

1,068) Not being in a hurry all the time.

1,069) Knowing that I have an Advocate and Defender who pleads for me before the Throne of God.

1,070) Not nearly being close to finished with these lists.

Set Free VBS- Day One

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I volunteered again for Vacation Bible School at Set Free Church in downtown Nashville. It’s just as much of a leap of faith (or like the above picture, an ascension into the unknown). Inner-city ministry is decidedly out of my comfort zone, but as I’ve learned, you almost never learn anything or grow or experience fullness of joy and peace inside your comfort zone. You must always step out and take risks for those miracles to happen.

That said, I had an amazing night of seeing God at work. To the average cynic, it might seem like a futile task reaching out to inner-city children who to every appearance have no attention span whatsoever and almost no impulse control. But I don’t believe that, or else I wouldn’t have been out there, doing my small part to share the love of Christ with these kids.

IMG_0769I think that deep down all children have the same needs: someone who sees them and cares about them and loves them. They are just like adults in that they won’t care how much you know about the Bible, Jesus, theology, and doctrine until you show them how much you care about them as people and not as statistics.

I’m only one very imperfect person who’s out there trying to love on some kids. I’m not Billy Graham or Mother Teresa. But it’s not about my abilities anyhow. It’s about me making myself available to a very perfect God who can take my little bitty offering (think loaves and fishes) and multiply it to satisfy the soul-needs of a multitude. It’s not great faith in God that accomplishes wonders, but faith in a great God. Even if that faith is as small as a mustard seed.

IMG_0733So it’s about planting small seeds of faith in these kids. It’s about taking their posturing and sometimes snarky attitudes and loving them anyway and pointing them to Jesus, who loves little children more than anyone. 

Who knows? Maybe there’s a future Billy Graham or another Mother Teresa amongst these kids? Even if it’s one life that gets changed, that’s enough. As an old Jewish saying goes, if you change one person, you have changed the world. At the very least you have changed that person’s world. And for me that will be more than enough.