Notes on a Sermon

I heard something really cool today in a sermon. Even though I didn’t get much sleep, I still paid attention, so that doubles my Baptist Brownie points, I think.

Anyway, the point is this: you don’t have to be a victim to your past or let what others have said or done to you enslave you. The power of the risen Christ gives you the freedom and opportunity to choose a new future and break the cycle of negativity and lies.

You don’t have to be defined by past failures or by friends who abandoned you. And on a side note, real friends will give you the benefit of the doubt at all times and dig behind the misunderstanding to find your true meaning instead of assuming the worst. But that’s another topic for another day. Maybe.

The future is wide open. It’s not bound to what you did in the past or the rut you’re currently stuck in. The future is where God is already waiting to show you something better than you could ever have imagine or dreamed up on your own. The future is where you become all that God meant for you to be when he dreamed you up.

So let go of those who won’t look for the best in you and try to bring it out of you. Embrace those who bring out the Jesus in you and help you to find your own unique story. You are special because you have a calling and purpose that only you can do– to be exactly yourself in a world that will do anything and everything to get you to be anything else but you.

The best part is that you can always start over. You don’t have to wait for the first of the month or for the next full moon. You can start today. You just have to want it bad enough to work for it and to wait expectantly for God’s promises to be fulfilled in you.

And now maybe I’ll take a much-needed nap.

Sadness and Joy

It seems there is so much sadness in the world lately. From the Boston Marathon bombings to the tornadoes that ripped through Shawnee and Moore, Oklahoma, it seems tragedy and loss are everywhere. It seems like on Facebook people are having to say goodbye to loved ones, where they be furry or people.

It can be overwhelming if you let it. The magnitude of pain around the world right now is massive. So many people are hurting, so many are suffering, so many seem like they have nothing to look forward to but more hurt and suffering.

But as callous and unfeeling as this may sound, you can still have joy. Joy is not a denial of what happened in Boston or Oklahoma. Joy doesn’t turn a blind eye toward those who have suffered and lost. Joy sees past the pain to the God who waits on the other side. The beautiful part is that God is on both sides of the pain and walking with you through it.

I love an illustration a pastor gave. Jesus isn’t limited by time and space, so he’s in your present with you. He’s also in your future, so that the promises he gave you are already as good as done. He’s in your past in that moment when you were wounded, ready to heal you so that your past wounds no longer bleed into your present. He’s in all three places at once.

I am convinced that sadness and joy can coexist. It’s only right to grieve what’s lost. But we don’t grieve as those who have no hope. We grieve with hope that one day God will set everything right and will restore a thousand-fold what we’ve lost or given up. We grieve as those who know that our troubles are only a blip on the radar screen compared to the glory that awaits and that what we suffer pales in comparison with the ultimate joy that awaits us.

So my heart aches for all those in pain tonight, but my heart rejoices that while there may be pain in the night, joy comes in the morning.

 

The Little Things

littles

A lot of us (me included) have this idea that life should be epic and full of dramatic, Gladiator-style moments where risks are involved and manly muscles are flexed. Life usually isn’t like that. Besides, I am decidedly lacking in the manly muscle department.

Like a friend of mine said, life is like taking 10,000 steps every single day. Every step you take leads you closer or further away from your desired destination. For believers, that means every step leads you closer or further away from Christ.

Obedience is the same way. Most of the time, we’re not called to make the ultimate sacrifice and jump in front of a fast-moving train to save a group of Girl Scouts. Mostly, obedience is doing the next small thing you know to do. It’s a thousand tiny deaths to comfort, pride, convenience, and self.

We become like Jesus when we take the tiny steps and do the little acts He calls us to each day. I love the statement that there is no microwave holiness, but that sanctification is a lifelong process that we never really finish here.

Life is in the details. It’s the small stuff we look past waiting for the grand moments. It’s what we miss in the present because we are too occupied with the past or obsessed with the future.

That’s where Jesus is strongest. Jesus is strong in that moment when you’re wondering how you can get through the next 5 minutes. Jesus is strongest when you don’t see how you can get it all together.

Rarely does God speak in the dramatic James Earl Jones-type voice (not the Darth Vader voice, the other one). It’s ususally a still, small voice that you’ll miss unless you can be still and quiet and present in the moment.

Thank you, God, for the little moments. That’s where life happens and that’s where You’re making me more like Jesus.