Joy in the Midst of Sadness

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I celebrated with the rest of the family as my niece turned 2. Finally, I can stop counting in months. I was seriously running out of fingers and toes to count on.

I loved seeing the pure unadulterated joy on her face when she saw her presents and the complete love and trust she has for her mommy and daddy and two big brothers. It did my heart good.

But I also remembered Adrian Peterson’s 2-year old son who was allegedly beaten to death by his mother’s boyfriend. My heart hurts and I have questions I can’t answer.

Who does that to a 2-year old? For what possible reason?

I know we live in a broken world filled with broken people. Creation groans for deliverance and for everything to be made right. Too many defenseless and helpless children suffer, too many people go to bed hungry, too many marriages fall apart, and too many die way too young.

Then I remember how this story ends. I cheated and read the last page. It’s about God wiping away every tear from our eyes. It’s about a new Jerusalem, a new heaven and a new earth where lambs lie safely next to lions, where others is no need for sun, moon, or stars because God is there.

I love what the guest pastor said. God didn’t want an only child, so He chose us to be conformed to the image of His Son Jesus and become heirs with Jesus to all the promises of God.

I love this version of Romans 8:29-30: “God knew what he was doing from the very beginning. He decided from the outset to shape the lives of those who love him along the same lines as the life of his Son. The Son stands first in the line of humanity he restored. We see the original and intended shape of our lives there in him. After God made that decision of what his children should be like, he followed it up by calling people by name. After he called them by name, he set them on a solid basis with himself. And then, after getting them established, he stayed with them to the end, gloriously completing what he had begun.”

That’s what keeps me going in the midst of so much suffering and sadness. That’s why I can find joy in everything. Because ultimately Love does win.

A Beautiful Moment

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I saw one example of Eucharisteo paying off today.  My mother and  were on the way back from picking up my grandmother from her assisted living apartment. We had Hank Williams playing in the car, hoping my grandmother would recognize the old music.

We got to the song “Hey Good Lookin'”, a song pretty much EVERYBODY has heard of at some point in their lives. My mom started singing and, lo and behold, my grandmother chimed in. I don’t know why that moment blessed me so much, but it did.

Out of all the great things that happened today– seeing my niece Lizzie’s joy in opening her birthday presents, being with family, driving home at night with the windows rolled down– that moment topped them all. In fact, I’d say it has hit the charts with a bullet for one of my favorite moments of 2013.

I guess I love that moment because I was able to slow down to catch that fleeting moment and savor it. I didn’t miss it like I’ve missed so many others because I was too busy looking back in regret or looking ahead with anxiety. I was squarely in that moment and seeing God at work right then and there.

My grandmother is 89 and her memory’s not what it used to be. I know she won’t live forever, as much as the 10-year old part of me thinks otherwise. I know no one I love lives forever. At some point, I will have to say goodbye to everything and everyone I love this side of heaven. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t relish in every moment I’m given. It doesn’t mean that I can’t build memories of moments that will carry me through the grief back to the joy.

I love my friends, whether they’re in my life for 15 minutes, 6 months, 2 years, or a lifetime. I know better than to assume every friend will always be my friend and will always be around. I also know that each person, whether family or friend, has left footprints in my heart and residue of their spirit in my soul, so that I am forever changed, more like Jesus, because of knowing them.

My prayer isn’t that people will look back and remember me as a really swell guy, but that they will look on the times they spent with me and reflect on how much closer to Jesus they are now because of my small part in their lives.

That’s all.

Blog #1,161

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I still write these blogs as reminders to myself of how good God’s been to me. I am so very forgetful and prone to wander, prone to leave the God I love, prone to return to broken cisterns of doubt and fear.

I write about grace so much because I love it so much, and I love it so much because I’ve needed it and found it at just the right times. Left to myself, I can very clingy and needy, very co-dependent, and self-absorbed. I am an approval-addict. An affirmation junkie.

But that grace of God found me. And it did not leave me where it found me. I found that Jesus’ amazing love for me makes me loveable. I discovered that it’s more than okay for me to be myself. It’s the best form of worship I can offer. Just me loving being me. Me refusing to be conformed to what everybody else says I should be, to what the media tells me I need to be to matter.

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I will never stop telling the story of how Eucharisteo forged my miracle, how a lifestyle of joy and gratitude and thanksgiving opened my eyes to manifold blessings and allowed me to open closed fists to receive more of God’s riches.

I am blessed. Even if I never have a six-figure salary. Even if I am ever more the friend and never the love interest, the guy girls want to marry. Even if I never get another blessing or another visible reminder of God’s presence.

Here’s to 1,000 more posts to remind forgetful me of how good my life is and how great God is. Here’s to all of you who keep encouraging me, challenging me, and blessing me in ways I will never be able to repay.

Thank you.

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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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Grace Notes on a Thursday Night

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As I type these words, I have one extremely sleepy therapist curled up in my lap. I can feel my blood pressure dropping and my stress melting away. It’s almost like I’m living inside a Norman Rockwell painting.

I visited my favorite place on earth again. Downtown Franklin for me is almost like leaving Middle Tennessee and entering Middle Earth. If Middle Earth had amazing frozen yogurt and talking crosswalks.

I saw two of my favorite friends down there and ate at McCreary’s Irish Pub yet again. I felt like a senior adult eating at 4:30 pm, but I didn’t have to wait and I was able to sit outside and people-watch while I ate.

I really think the way to slow down your life is to be intentionally thankful for each moment, grateful for each frame of your fleeting life, and to seek joy where you are. Once you start looking for them, you’ll be amazed at how plentiful the blessings are. How numerous the little joys are that quietly intrude on your day.

Sometimes, you have to put down the iPhone and the iPad and the MacBookPro and live in the moment. Actually be present in your life to the people and places around you.

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I find that my gratitude increases my awareness of grace and my need for it and my capacity to both receive and give it. Everything I have and everything I am that’s worth anything at all is grace, including possessions, people, health, education, and (as hard as it is for me to admit) even the faith to believe in the promises of Jesus.

I say take time to bless those people behind the counter. I went back into Sweet CeCe’s after I finished my divine Southern Sweet Velvet yogurt and told the girl working there that they always did such a great job and made me feel welcome every time I went in there. I’m sure plenty of people probably complained or took out their frustrations on her, so I felt she needed at least one positive and encouraging word that day.

Even if it’s only a smile, you can change a person’s world. And as I’ve said before, to change one person’s world is to change the world.

Gee, I do so love grace.

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Yes, It’s Hump Daaaaay (and Yes, I’m Sick of That Geico Commercial. Enough Already)

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it’s Wednesday (in case you were one of the two people living under a rock who didn’t know what hump day was). Currently, I am in one of my many therapy sessions with Doctor Lucy, per usual, sleeping on the job. At least her rates are very affordable and she accepts my insurance.

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I am at peace with the world. Or at least my world. I am very content with where I am and what I have, knowing that I am smack dab in the middle of God’s plan for me and that I am in Christ and He is in me. Every promise of God belongs to me and there is nothing that I lack. Every single thing I need for life to the full and holiness is mine.

So why is that not enough for me most of the time? Why do I always want more than what God offers in the moment? Why can’t I let go of the trinkets in my hands to receive eternal treasures?

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I don’t have any good answers.

i do know that I am still living my miracle, surrounded by a cloud of witnesses and spurred on daily by family and friends who speak blessings and life and healing and peace into my being.

Joy is still found not by looking ahead or looking back but from seeing the now and being present in this moment. It is so elusive to those with no time or patience for it but is found by those who need it most. When they need it the most.

 

Life is still good, God is still great, and I am still so very blessed.

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A Beautiful Puritan Prayer

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“O God of Grace,
Thou hast imputed my sin to my substitute,
and hast imputed his righteousness to my soul,
clothing me with bridegroom’s robe,
decking me with jewels of holiness.
But in my Christian walk I am still in rags;
my best prayers are stained with sin;
my penitential tears are so much impurity;
my confessions of wrong are so many aggravations of sin;
my receiving the Spirit is tinctured with selfishness.
I need to repent of my repentance;
I need my tears to be washed;
I have no robe to bring to cover my sins,
no loom to weave my own righteousness;
I am always standing clothed in filthy garments,
and by grace am always receiving change of raiment,
for thou dost always justify the ungodly;
I am always going into the far country,
and always returning home as a prodigal,
always saying, Father, forgive me,
and thou art always bringing forth the best robe.
Every morning let me wear it,
every evening return in it,
go out to the day’s work in it,
be married in it,
be wound in death in it,
stand before the great white throne in it,
enter heaven in it shining as the sun.
Grant me never to lose sight of
the exceeding sinfulness of sin,
the exceeding righteousness of salvation,
the exceeding glory of Christ,
the exceeding beauty of holiness,
the exceeding wonder of grace.”

From The Valley of Vision – A collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions
Edited by Arthur Bennett

Good Thoughts from a Good Friend

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I was talking tonight to a good friend I hadn’t seen in a while and she said something very profound that I haven’t gotten my brain wrapped around yet.

I remarked that I love encouraging people. Or maybe that I really love chocolate creme Oreos. I honestly don’t remember now. But what she said in response blew what little mind I have left to smithereens.

She said that we give to others those things we need the most from others.

In other words, I give encouragement because for me, being encouraged is like getting oxygen. It’s life to me. I love giving hugs because I love getting them.

It can get unhealthy when I start expecting you to return the good I do for you in the same measure and spirit in which it was given. Then it can become a kind of manipulation.

But often, it can spur great kindnesses. I know I need grace, so I try to give it often. I also know I’m not alone in my need of it, so I can meet an often unspoken need and bless someone by giving them what they so desperately need but don’t know how to ask for it.

As I reflect tonight, I realize again just how very blessed I am. I have so many family members and friends who speak life, healing, blessing, correction, and joy into my life. You show me Jesus every single day and spur me on to greater love and devotion for my Savior. You keep me sane and positive.

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I talk about how eucharisteo precedes the miracle. You, my friends and my family, ARE my miracle. I mean that literally.

Thank you. May God bless you as you have blessed me and lift you up as you have lifted me up. May you know the extravagant, prodigal, lavish, crazy love of Abba Father for you until it fills you up and splashes out onto every single person around you.

Amen.