Friends, Frothy Monkey, and Franklin

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A lady I work with remarked that the only good cats were dead ones. Obviously, she’s not a fan of cats. Lord, forgive them for they know not what they’re missin’.

I had another great night in downtown Franklin. I had a spectacular roast beef and provolone sandwich at my very favorite place to eat on Earth, which as you should know by now is McCreary’s Irish Pub. Seeing as I chose to eat at the optimal senior citizen dining time of 4:30 pm, I got prime seating on the patio on a picturesque Autumn afternoon.

Later, I ran into one of my favorite friends who always makes my heart happy when I see her and never fails to encourage me and make me smile. She and her dad were headed over to Sweet CeCe’s for some fro-yo (that is frozen yogurt for the novices out there). I recommended the pumpkin pie flavor, which is exceedingly delightful.

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I had a sweet potato pie latte at Frothy Monkey and sat on the patio while I sipped my little cup of heaven and reveled in just how very blessed I am. If I counted all my blessings, I’d easily surpass the 1,500 I came up with in my Things I Love series. I’d lose count before I ran out of blessings.

I got treated to an organ concert at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. Well, it was more like the organ dude practicing and me showing up at the right time. I prayed a bit, sat still and silent for a bit, and just tried to be in the moment. A girl sat directly across from me, deep in prayer. I still don’t know who she was or what burdens she carried, but I did my best to intercede for her and agree with her in prayer for whatever she was asking from God. It felt like genuine New Testament Church.

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I had ol’ Hank Williams (Sr., not Jr.) providing the soundtrack to my ride home. With the windows down and the volume cranked up. It was magical.

Now I’m sitting here typing this on my iPad while my cat reposes in my lap. To many people’s great and lasting disappointment, she’s not dead. Only very sleepy. Probably dreaming of tuna again.

 

Update on Showing Up

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I showed up this morning at 5:05 am. I read my daily portion of Scripture, which today was from Isaiah, Sirach (or Ben Sira), and Hebrews. And in case you’re wondering what Sirach is–it’s one of the apocryphal (or deuterocanonical) books found in some Catholic Bibles.

I tried to not pray a script. I just sat there and was still and silent. I fell asleep. I guess getting that comfortable and that still that early in the morning puts me to sleep. So I’m not as super-spiritual as you may have thought I was.

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I ran across this from Isaiah 56:

“And foreigners who join themselves to the Lord, to minister to him, To love the name of the Lord, to become his servants— All who keep the sabbath without profaning it and hold fast to my covenant, Them I will bring to my holy mountain and make them joyful in my house of prayer; Their burnt offerings and their sacrifices will be acceptable on my altar, For my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples. (Isaiah 56:6, 7 NABRE)”

That’s me. A foreigner. A Gentile.

The last part of the verse is what Jesus quoted when he drove out the moneychangers, people who took advantage of people coming to offer sacrifices in the temple. He got so mad be because these sellers were putting up artificial barriers between people and God and keeping them from worshipping.

I noticed that Jesus never called it a House of Preaching or a House of Worship. It’s a House of Prayer. So why do we do so little praying there? Why is prayer always a preliminary to other activities instead of the main thing?

I don’t pray because I don’t think I need to. I forget that prayer isn’t primarily relaying information to God. It’s not about informing God about something He was previously unaware of. Prayer is about me seeing through God’s eyes. Prayer is about me acknowledging deep down that I desperately need God at every moment if I’m to have a chance of survival.

I can’t pray and stay the same. I can’t pray and stay where I am. I can’t pray and not have my heart line up a little more with God’s heart, see more with His eyes, and be a little more like Jesus.

I’m setting my alarm for 5:00 am tomorrow. I’m hoping that if I keep showing up, I will start to see God showing up in my life more.

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Making Mondays Good Again

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At first, it may have seemed like a typical Monday. First, I locked my keys in my car at Starbucks. I knew the moment my hand went to shut the door that I had messed up. Sure enough, there were my keys, still in the ignition.

Then, after my trusty sidekick and savior of the day a.k.a. Mom brought my spare keys, I went to start the car. Nothing. Other than a very annoying clicking sound. I was beginning to get annoyed myself.

I had AAA, so I got them to send a wrecker who was able to jump start my car and get me running. I ended up needing a new battery.

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Sounds like I should write off this Monday as yet another in a long line of bad days. Right? As Lee Corso says, “Not so fast, my friend.”

I woke up this morning, a privilege many didn’t get. I breathed in and out fresh air out of my lungs, felt my heart pumping life through my limbs, and got to experience the gift of another day of living.

There’s still not a moment where I’m not sustained and held together by the grace of God. There’s never a second where I’m out of God’s sight or not in His heart.

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I know I have so many people rooting for me on both sides of Heaven. I know I have saints lifting up holy hands in intercession for me. I know Jesus never ceases praying for me and His Holy Spirit never stops translating my sighs and groans into petitions and praises.

I’m good. I’m more than good. I’m blessed.

If God never did one more thing for me, if He showed me my empty box of blessings because I had used them all up, I would be good. I would still have enough reasons to give thanks and be grateful for the rest of my life.

Eternity will be too short for me to express my thankfulness to God for who He’s been to me and how He’s proved Himself faithful over and over. I’ll never get tired of finding new ways to say “Thank you!” to the King of the Universe who is also my Abba Father.

I’d say that makes even Mondays blessed.

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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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More Pre-WordPress Nuggets (Containing No Actual Chicken)

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June 24, 2010

I was thinking today about Job’s situation and how it relates to mine (and possibly yours, too). In Job 42, God tells Job’s friends that they have slandered Job and misrepresented God. He tells them that Job will pray for them, and He will hear him and not deal with them as they deserve. Job prays for his friends, then God gives him back what he lost, doubled.

Job had to pray for those who wronged him before God restored him. Job had to forgive the ones who slandered him and his God. Is there some area of your life that needs healing and/or restoration? It could be that God is waiting for you to pray for the ones who hurt you in that area before he restores to you what you lost or heals you.

As much as I pray for God to forgive those who hurt me, that much will God forgive me (see the Lord’s prayer). As much as I pray for God to bless those who slander me, God will bless me. As much as I pray for the restoration and healing of those whose wounds I carry, God will restore and heal me.

This is me thinking out loud again. So take it for what it’s worth.

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May 3, 2010

My greatest fear is that if people ever really find out who I am and what I am like, they will leave me and want nothing else to do with me. That I am not good enough. That I do not have what it takes.

So I live to please others. I become whoever I think they want me to be. I strive constantly to prove myself to others, so they can tell me who I am. That I do have what it takes. I feel that if I can make them like me, then I am worthy and not a cosmic *$#-up.

But I can’t make anyone like me or be interested in me. I can only let God love me and let that Love define me. If I let people tell me who I am and define me, they will get it wrong. If I make pleasing people my purpose, they will fail me every single time.

Lord, you are telling me that I am someone beautiful who has meaning and is worthy. I am good enough and I do have what it takes because I have you. I believe what You say about me. Lord, I do believe. Help my unbelief.

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April 26, 2010

I am Jacob, for I try to manipulate and deceive every person I meet.
I am Gomer, for I whore myself after other gods and do not seek the One True God.
I am Abraham, for I lie when it suits me.
I am Esau, for I am willing to trade things of eternal worth for worthless things.
I am Cain, for my anger gets the best of me at times.
I am Moses, for I do not believe God when He says He can speak through me.
I am Judas, for I am so often ready to betray my Savior for so little.
I am David, for I sin and try to cover it up, rather than confess and be made whole.
I am Forgiven, because Jesus died for me.
I am Beloved, for God has declared me so.

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April 11, 2010

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me (2 Corinthians 12:9).

When was the last time I boasted in my weaknesses? I seldom even acknowledge that I have any weaknesses. Usually I try to sell myself on what I consider my best qualities. But weaknesses? I try to hide them or pretend they don’t exist.

I truly believe that there is a power that comes only through weakness and brokenness that will never come through self-reliance or self-sufficiency. Only when I am weak, when I admit to the world that I am weak, then I am strong. And Christ in me is so much stronger than I could ever be.

What if I boasted in the fact that my social skills are slightly better than nonexistant? That I back down when I should stand up? What if I shout to the rooftops that I am weak, helpless, afraid and utterly broken? Maybe then I am at my strongest and the power that raised Christ from the dead is unleashed in me.

This is so very against the culture that it is unthinkable. But aren’t I supposed to be counter-culture? What if we are too busy fitting in and so much like the world that we have completely lost the power that can save the world? Maybe that’s why Christians are so despised. Not because we are different, but because we are not different enough.

A broken world can’t relate to perfect, holier-than-thou Christians who have it all together. They respond when they see what our brokenness looks like and when God’s grace is able to transform our weakness into His strength. Grace is what the world needs, not our perfection.

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Hank Sr and the Night Air

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I spent another night in downtown Franklin with two good friends. It was another picture perfect evening, weather wise and in every other respect. I could almost literally feel the smile of God over me as I walked with my friends and revisited my favorite spots.

On the way home, I selected Hank Williams because it felt right. I had the windows rolled down, the night air blowing in, and that plaintive voice from the past crooning me to a happy place on my way home.

Hank died over 60 years ago under mysterious circumstances that may never be fully known or understood. From what I understand, he led a very sad life. I read an apt description that he was going 90 miles an hour down a dead end street. But he could write some of the most poignant, heartfelt lyrics.

I’d rather listen to his music any day than most of what passes for country music these days. It feels mass-produced and manufactured, even though the production sounds a lot better and recording studios have come a very long way.

Sometimes, it’s good to go back. To revisit the old values and the old sayings. To remember the stories handed down through generations and the ancient wisdom time-tested and proven true.

Like this one. It is more blessed to give than to receive. If you want to save your life, you have to lose it. If you want to be treated a certain way, you have to treat others that way.

Or this. Love God with everything you’ve got and love your neighbor as much as you love yourself. That’s the Bible in a nutshell, all the laws and commandments at their purest, and everything you need to know.

Oh, I almost forgot. You can’t love God until you’ve found out how much He loves you and then received that love as your own. You can’t love your neighbors if you haven’t discovered who you are and where you belong and found that you have priceless worth as one not only created by your Abba Father, but redeemed by Him.

That’s an old truth that will never ever get old for me.

 

 

Dar Williams and the Song in Your Heart

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According to Foursquare (an app on my iPhone), I hadn’t been to any concerts or movies at the Franklin Theatre since April. Until tonight.

I was in row D, seat 3 to hear one of my favorite singer-songwriters, Dar Williams, put on a great show. Even her opening act, Angel Snow, was fantastic. It was a good night.

Dar performed my two favorite songs of hers, “The One Who Knows” and “The Beauty of the Rain,” as well as several other gems. Her music always takes me to a peaceful place and her songs are most definitely an integral part of the ever-changing and ever-growing soundtrack to my life.

Jesus has been reminding me of the song in my own heart that I had begun to forget. Joy and thanksgiving, or eucharisteo, is my song and I’m thankful for friends and family who periodically remind me when I’ve forgotten the words or lost the melody.

I am one note in a living symphony of God’s love for the world He made. I may be only one small part, but without me, the symphony loses something. The same with you. The world around you needs to hear your own unique song and your small but vital part in God’s overture.

Let your life be the biggest hymn of praise that you sing. A hymn of thanksgiving, of hope restored, of dreams reborn, and of grace. Especially grace.

I will help to remind you of your song when you forget the words and root for you when your part in the Grand Symphony arrives. That’s what Church is for– to remind each other of the goodness of God and to love each other and God well. That’s a song the world around us has been dying to hear.

Hello, My Name Is . . . : What Jesus Wants to Say to Every Woman

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This is inspired by something I heard tonight from Amy Jo Girardier, guest speaker at Kairos tonight. I think if Jesus could talk face to face with any one of His daughters, He’d say something like this:

“My Precious Daughter,

I see the way you look at yourself in the mirror and sigh. I see the way you look at your life and see only chores and tasks left undone, goals unreached, dreams dashed.

You’ve once again allowed the world around you to define you and name you. You’ve believed that insidious lie that you in and of yourself are not enough, that you need something more to be complete. A man, a marriage, children, a career, a title, a reputation.

You look back with regret and despair at your past and take on names for yourself such as Useless, Damaged Goods, Unwanted, Ugly, Invisible.

Do you not know that you are the apple of My eye? Do you not know that you have ravished My heart with one look of your eye? Do you not understand that I look at you, the pinnacle of My creation, and say, “She is very good. She is exactly what I dreamed her to be. She is beautiful”?

I saw you at your worst moment, in the grip of fear, insecurity, and doubt. I saw you when you were unable to trust anything or anyone, even Me, and I fell in love with you.

I would rather go through hell for you than go back to heaven without you. For you and you alone, I’d gladly endure all the torture and pain of the cross. You were (and are) to die for.

Let me name you. Hear Me calling you

Complete

My Lovely Bride

Fair Daughter of Zion

My Beloved in whom I am well pleased

Princess of the King of Kings

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Lily of the Valley.

I love you passionately, perfectly, and permanently all the days of your life. I am in you, with you, beside you, and for you. Always.

Believe My love is just as real in the dark, in the pain, in the quiet moments when you can’t feel me near. Believe I don’t just have what you need. I Myself am what you need.

And I don’t give you strength or wisdom or grace. I give you Me and all of My strength, My wisdom, My grace, My perfection.

I can’t wait to unveil the finished you before creation and see you dazzling and radiant and perfect. In other words, just like Me.”

On a Night Like This 3

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My friends and I played sand volleyball again tonight. For the record, no one confused any of us with professional athletes, but we had fun. And that was the point of the evening.

I’ve noticed all of us have improved over time. We each have grown more confident in our own abilities and brought out the best in those around us. We’ve learned to trust each other and we know what any given person’s strengths and weaknesses are. We’ve learned to play as a team.

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I really believe that’s Church. We figure out life together. We offer encouragement in the face of failure and mistakes and we cheer for successes and victories. We know that in order to win, we need all of us together, on the same page with the same endgame in mind.

We learn to work together, knowing that we can be strong for others in areas where they’re weak. We learn to admit where we need help and to humble ourselves enough to ask for that help.

And as simplistic as it sounds, the most important part of living is showing up. It’s being present in your own life and not just a spectator watching and biding your time until you get to that next phase. It’s about intentionally choosing to engage with those around you and breathe in the night air and find joy in the details and to see God at work right where you are right when you’re there.

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Plus, it helps if you can laugh at yourself. I think my shining moment was tripping over my own two feet in a frantic effort to get to the ball. Did I mention I’m not Olympic material?

No one will remember next week which teams won or lost. No one will remember whose teams thry were on. But we will remember a perfect night with good friends and laughter and good memories. And best of all, joy.

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Twelve Years Later on 9/11

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“In honor of all those who have come behind…. in honor of Christ who lived like that: Go into a hurting world and live your life as a First-Responder.”

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I still can’t believe it happened. Even 12 years later, it doesn’t seem real to me.

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I googled 9/11 images today and found hundreds of pictures ranging from patriotic and stirring to emotionally gripping and heartbreaking to chilling and disturbing.

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I still remember exactly where I was when my boss at the time called me into his office to witness replays of the first plane hitting the first of the World Trade Center twin towers.

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Almost 3,000 people lost their lives that day. And yet it could have been much more catastrophic. Thanks to the heroism of first-responders, many who sacrificed their own lives, there were far less fatalities than there could have been.

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The best in us rose to the occasion for when the worst in us showed its ugly colors.

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Yet around the world, many people still face on a daily basis what we faced on one day twelve years ago. Many will lose their lives today simply because of their beliefs, their ethnic origins, their gender, or out of pure evil. Many will see loved ones massacred in many horrific ways.

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I’m praying for us as a human race today. I’m praying for our nation.

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But I’m not praying for God to save us from extremist Islamic terrorists.

I’m not praying for God to deliver us from President Obama and the liberal agenda or the Tea Party and its right-wing policies.

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I’m praying this prayer today: “Lord, save us from ourselves. Lord, save me from myself.”

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imageI’ve seen in my worst moments what I could have been apart from grace, and it is not pretty. I can be petty and vindictive and selfish and lazy and hateful and rude. Left to myself, there’s no telling what I’m capable of.

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We as a human race are our own worst enemy. We have a worldwide pandemic raging through our population, affecting every single person who has ever lived called sin. Because of the Fall, we are fallen and broken people living in a fallen and broken world. Thousands of years of history has proven that we can’t save ourselves from ourselves. We are in desperate need of a Savior.

We have one. That pandemic called sin didn’t actually affect every single one of us. Jesus, the God-man born of a virgin, lived and died a sinless life and an atoning and sacrificial death on our behalf. He did for us what we could never do for ourselves– He came to save us.

So I remember 9/11 again on this day, but I also remember that one day Jesus is coming back to set all things right again, to restore what the locusts and the terrorists and the politicians and the narrow-minded pharisees have stolen. He’s coming to bring true peace and true joy and true life.

So I pray on the 12th anniversary of 9/11, but not just on this day: “Jesus, come quickly.”