I Don’t Know a Lot

I will be the first to confess that there is a whole lot out there that I don’t know. Particularly when it comes to mathematics or statistics or anything having to do with numbers. I escaped Algebra my freshman year at Union University and haven’t looked back since.

Some days, I feel like I know less than I used to. That is, there are a lot more things I am a lot less certain about than I was ten years ago. Or even five.

I do know a few things with an increasing certainty.

1) My God loves me with a love that is radical almost to the point of being embarrassing. It is a love that is prodigal and liberal and generous and unending.

2) That I am as much in need of grace as I ever was. I truly believe that I love grace as much as I see my need of it. Those who think they are fine without it don’t really put much stock into it, but those who know they are lost without it embrace it with every fiber of their beings. I am one of those in the second category.

3) What will convince a lost world of the genuineness of our faith isn’t how well we can defend and prove what we believe or how adamantly we can argue our side or even the impressive number of good works we can muster. It’s about how much we love each other. That was turned the 1st century world upside down and that’s what will turn our world right-side up again.

4) I know for 100% certain that God is good and His plans for me are good. Period. What I think and feel may tell me differently. What my eyes and ears tell me may speak a different story. But I know in the deepest core of my heart and mind that while my feelings and thoughts and eyes and ears may deceive me and lie to me, God never ever will.

I think that’s all I need to know.

Nuggets of Wisdom: My Take on Chick-Fil-A Appreciation Day

Yes, I was one of the faithful horde who descended on the local Chick-fil-A en masse today around noon. I had a great chargrilled chicken cool wrap. Then I got to thinking. And I’ve been thinking ever since.

This is not to bash one side or the other, but to ask some very probing questions.

Did I go there out of a true spirit of love or did I go to prove a point or show my political beliefs in action? Is this something the real live, breathing Jesus of the Bible would have done, or just something that the middle-class, white, Republican Jesus would have done?

At the end of the day, Jesus will not ask us who we were against or how much we defended our free speech or how we let everybody know where we stand politically. He will ask, “Did you love the least of these? Did you love your enemies? Did you give to those who can’t ever pay you back?” At the end of the day, all that matters is this: did we love well like Jesus loved us well?

I will probably keep eating at Chick-fil-A, mainly because they have some amazing chicken. Not because of what the owner thinks about marriage, traditional or otherwise. Definitely not because I want to make some political stand.

When I see Jesus, do I want to tell Him that I stood up for the rights of a fast-food restaurant or do I want to tell Him that I stood up for the rights of the outcast, spoke for those with no voice, fed the hungry, took care of the sick, and in so doing, minstered to Jesus Himself?

I’m not sure what my point is, other than if I do anything at all, it should be out of 100% genuine love for Jesus and for all those He created and loved and died for.

I love what Brennan Manning writes concerning all this (or at least I think it relates quite well):

“The Lord Jesus is going to ask each of us one question and only one question: Do you believe that I loved you? That I desired you? That I waited for you day after day? That I longed to hear the sound of your voice?   The real believers there will answer, “Yes, Jesus. I believed in your love and I tried to shape my life as a response to it. But many of us who are so faithful in our ministry, in our practice, in our church going are going to have to reply, “Well frankly, no sir. I mean, I never really believed it. I mean, I heard alot of wonderful sermons and teachings about it. In fact I gave quite a few myself. But I always knew that that was just a way of speaking; a kindly lie, some Christian’s pious pat on the back to cheer me on. And there’s the difference between the real believers and the nominal Christians that are found in our churches across the land. No one can measure like a believer the depth and the intensity of God’s love. But at the same time, no one can measure like a believer the effectiveness of our gloom, pessimism, low self-esteem, self-hatred and despair that block God’s way to us. Do you see why it is so important to lay hold of this basic truth of our faith? Because you’re only going to be as big as your own concept of God.   Do you remember the famous line of the French philosopher, Blaise Pascal? “God made man in his own image, and man returned the compliment”? We often make God in our own image, and He winds up to be as fussy, rude, narrow minded, legalistic, judgemental, unforgiving, unloving as we are.

In the past couple of three years I have preached the gospel to the financial community in Wallstreet, New York City, the airmen and women of the air force academy in Colorado Springs, a thousand positions in Nairobi. I’ve been in churches in Bangor, Maine, Miami, Chicago, St. Louis, Seattle, San Diego. And honest, the god of so many Christians I meet is a god who is too small for me. Because he is not the God of the Word, he is not the God revealed by it in Jesus Christ who this moment comes right to your seat and says, ‘I have a word for you. I know your whole life story. I know every skeleton in your closet. I know every moment of sin, shame, dishonesty and degraded love that has darkened your past. Right now I know your shallow faith, your feeble prayer life, your inconsistent discipleship. And my word is this: I dare you to trust that I love you just as you are, and not as you should be. Because you’re never going to be as you should be.'”

I am Jacob

I am Jacob. From the very first moment I took a breath, I’ve been a deceiver and a trickster. Even as I came from the womb, I was jockeying for position. My name means heel-grabber and that’s what I am.

I can con anyone. I can talk you out of your life savings for a bowl of chiken noodle soup. Just ask my brother. I am the used car salesman that makes used car salesmen look bad. I am the epitome of the snake oil peddler.

But here I am out in the desert, all by myself. I’ve disappointed my father and broken my mother’s heart. I’m sure my brother hates me and will probably try to kill me the next time he sees me. All my schemes have left me empty and broken inside and I have run out of plans.

Suddenly, I’m wrestling this Man. I can tell from the start that He’s much stronger and faster and smarter than I am. It’s all I can do to hold on. And that’s what I do– grip tight and hold on for all that I’m worth.

He barely touches my hip and it comes out of joint. I’ve never known such searing pain, but still I hold on. Even when he tells me to let go, I hold on.

“I won’t let go until you bless me. I won’t let go until you can see past my deceit and treachery and find the real me. I won’t let go until you tell me who I really am underneath my house of cards that’s falling down all around me.”

He says, “You are Israel. You are a prince and you are the one who has struggled with God and man and prevailed. You are no longer your deceitful past. You are now Mine.”

I see now that it’s good to lose every once in a while. It’s good to wrestle with a God that’s stronger than me, strong enough to take care of me, strong enough to carry me when I’m weak.

I’m learning that God has had a better plan for me than all my conniving and manipulation. I’m learning that love sometimes has to wound before it can heal, and sometimes it has to give you scars before it can make you whole.

My name is Israel, and I will probably never walk right again. My source of strength has become my weakness, but I’m finding out that’s where God’s power really shows up.

My name is Israel and I’m learning to dance with a limp.

Farewell to Mayberry

I saw recently where Andy Griffith passed away. For me, it’s truly the end of an era of innocence and simplicity. Sure, I know that the old Andy Griffith Show wasn’t the most realistic TV show ever, but even if it was only a dream, it was a good dream.

Thank you, Andy.

You showed the world that a true man doesn’t need swagger or bravado to be a man. A true man doesn’t need to yell or hit people to prove his masculinity.

You showed that being a real man means being a good nephew, a good father, and a good citizen. You showed that masculinity means leading by example and not just with words.

You showed me it’s okay to admit when you’re wrong and ask forgiveness. You weren’t perfect by any means, but you never quit being the gentleman or took the day off from doing the right thing.

Thank you for your humble attitude, your love for your son, your love of God, and your quiet determination.

I and every other man look at you as a hero and hope to be the kind of man you were someday.

 

Good Conversations

I had a really good conversation with a good friend I’ve known for a while today. It was at Starbucks, so of course quality beverages were involved. In this case, it was two chai frappachinos with caramel on top. I highly recommend one if you ever get the chance.

It was one of those conversations that makes you a better person. It was one where I realized again just how blessed I am to have friends like this. I truly believe that I will look back 50 years from now and see that I am more like Jesus because of conversations like this one.

What will you remember about your conversations 50 years from now? Will you remember anything worthwhile that you said or heard? Will you be able to point to those times where you changed for the better because of the healing and encouragement and blessing spoken into your life?

I know I am who I am because of God speaking life into me through so many friends and family members. Not all the words were easy to hear, but every word carried the power of God to transform and renew me.

Thank you, friend, for blessing me every time I see you. It’s because of you and others like you that I am finally able to see myself and love myself the way God does and love others the same way.

May you be blessed a thousand times over for your words of comfort and kindness to me. May you never forget how fond your Abba is of you and always feel His smile of approval over you in everything you say and do.

The same goes for all of you reading this right now.

 

Sometimes

I really, really hate to admit this after all my talk of how God has healed me in the past. It feels like I’m pulling a fast one on you after I’ve announced to everyone how God has been delivering me from my fears. But here it is.

Sometimes at night when I’m tired, I get overwhelmed for a moment by fears.

I fear that this time I really have said or done the absolute stupid and wrong thing and a particular friend is gone for good. He or she has un-friended me and taped a picture of me to a dartboard for target practice.

I fear that I will always be single because no girl will ever find me attractive or desirable and I will always be left with this unfulfilled longing inside of me.

I fear that I’m really not good at anything and really won’t ever find a career that really makes me come alive to who God created me to be.

I think the difference this time is that I can name these thoughts as lies. It may not completely take away the panic and the pain, but it helps when I see these thoughts for what they are and their true origin from the father of lies.

I know now that most of the time a good night’s sleep will help these fears go away. Sometimes, it’s a glass of warm milk. Sometimes, it’s just practicing deep breathing. Sometimes, it’s saying, “Abba Father” over and over. Sometimes, it’s resting in the eternal Arms of my Abba Father and listening as He sings over me to calm my anxiety.

It’s okay for me to have setbacks and regressions, because they keep me grateful and thankful for the times when I am living out of faith and not fear. And those times are more and more prevalent.

There will always be something to fear. There will always be those moments when you give in to that fear. The question is: Can you name that fear for what it is and claim the promises of Jesus over it? Sometimes, you have to claim them out loud, but even when you don’t have a voice to speak them out, they are still powerful and true and for you.

Perfect love casts out all fear. In my case, perfect Love is casting out all fears, one at a time. I hope you find this to be true for you. Because the freedom is so much more than worth it.

The Kingdom of God Is Like . . .

The Kingdom of God is throwing a birthday party for a prostitute who has never had one in her life and giving her a birthday cake with candles and the gift of unconditional love.

The Kingdom of God is leaving the safety and comfort of the suburbs and going to the unsafe part of town to share a meal with homeless people.

The Kingdom of God is forgiving the person who took a part of you that you can never get back, whose wounds still have scars, and whose words still cut.

The Kingdom of God is hate turning into love, enemies turning into friends, the lost becoming found, the dead coming alive, and the hopeless rising up with new hope.

The Kingdom of God is a feast where the guests are the blind, the lame, the poor, the outcast, the forgotten, and the nobodies and where the least of these have the best seats in the house.

The Kingdom of God is wherever the people of God choose to be malajusted (to borrow a phrase from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.)  to a world that prizes sex over love, greed over compassion, votes over justice, war and weapons over peace, religion over Christ, and where life is regarded as cheap.

The Kingdom of God is more than taking back our country; it’s about taking back the world and turning it right-side up again and filling it with justice that runs like a river and mercy that flows like a neverending stream.

The Kingdom of God is those who aren’t satisfied with climbing corporate ladders or making more money, but instead want to make a difference by embracing a lifestyle of downward mobility where they choose to lead through serving and counting others as better than themselves.

The Kingdom of God is an unstoppable force, because it’s main power is stronger than all the bombs and armies and weapons and strategies that have ever come against it– and that power is love.

The Kingdom of God is the faith of a little child who believes unquestioningly and trusts Abba unswervingly.

The Kingdom of God is you and me.

The Kingdom of God is now.

Some things I have learned what it means to care

out-of-solitude

First of all, everyone should read the little book, Out of Solitude by Henri Nouwen, which is the basis for this blog. It’s only 63 pages and you can read it in an hour or two and be radically changed.

Care at its core means “to grieve, to experience sorrow, to cry out with.” It means weeping with those who weep. It means sharing joy and laughter. It means that I come out of my protective shell, become vulnerable and step into your world. It means that I realize that there is no one anywhere that I can not identify with if I am honest with myself. I have it in me to be kind or cruel, honest or a liar, warm-hearted or cold-blooded, etc. It means that I don’t have to give the right answers or even give answers at all. I can sit with someone who is hurting and cry with them and let that be enough.

One old saying that I like goes like “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.” Jesus is the best at this.

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:15).

Henri Nouwen writes, “By the honest recognition and confession of our human sameness we can participate in the care of God who came, not to the powerful but to the powerless, not to be different but to be the same, not to take our pain away but to share it. Through this participation, we can open our hearts to each other and form a new community.” A “fellowship of the broken,” as he calls it.

I am broken and empty of anything God can use. I am full of myself and until I learn to empty myself of all that I think is so good about me and let God fill me with Himself, I can never truly care and serve. Until I give up the desire to do good make a name for myself and simply be available to people in need, I miss the blessing of seeing God really work through me. That’s what I want. That’s what I need. That is community.

As always, I believe. Help my unbelief.

My prayer (as prayed by Henri Nouwen)

nouwen

“O Lord Jesus, you who came to show the compassionate love of your Father, make your people know this love with their hearts, minds, and souls. So often we feel lonely, unloved, and lost in this valley of tears. We desire to feel affection, tenderness, care, and compassion, but suffer from inner darkness, emptiness, and numbness. I pray tonight: Come, Lord Jesus, come. Do not just come to our understanding, but enter our hearts– our passions, emotions, and feelings– and reveal your presence to us in our inmost being. As long as you remain absent from that intimate core of our experience, we will keep clinging to people, things, or events to find some warmth, some sense of belonging. Only when you really come, really touch us, set us ablaze with your love, only then will we become free and let go of all false forms of belonging. Without that inner warmth, all our ascetical attempts remain trivial, and we might even get entangled in the complex network of our own good intentions.

O Lord, I pray that your children may come to feel your presence and be immersed in your deep, warm, affective love. And to me, O Lord, your stumbling friend, show your mercy. Amen.”

From A Cry for Mercy: Prayers from the Genesee by Henry Nouwen