theology

5 Minutes

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I’ve been trying to lose weight and get in shape. Lately, that means putting in an hour on the elliptical. For me, that’s a lot.

Some mornings, I feel there’s no way I can last that long. So I try for the first 5 minutes. After that, I try for 10. And so forth. If I break an hour down into 5-minute segments, it’s not nearly so bad.

Life is like that.

Some days, you think there’s no way you can survive for the next 24-hours. You feel completely and utterly overwhelmed. Don’t try. Just take the next 5 minutes and breathe deeply and slowly and think to yourself, “I can survive the next 5 minutes.”

Sometimes, you are held captive by your fears telling you that you’ve really messed it up this time and that friend is gone for good. It’s tempting to try and fix what really isn’t broken (which never works, by the way). Or you take the next 5 minutes and are able to start seeing the cracks in the fabric of that lie.

You can do anything for 5 minutes. You can pray or be silent or wait. You can breathe slowly and deeply. You can remember one blessing God has given you and dwell on that.

When I’m stressed out and can’t sleep, 5 minutes of meditating on the goodness of God can make all the difference. It can take me from almost falling back into my old approval-addiction, “nobody likes me” trap to remembering that I am still blessed with family and friends who surprise me all the time in unexpected ways with grace at every turn.

So set your stopwatch or your phone for 5 minutes. It may be a small start, but sometimes all Jesus needs in your life is the smallest place to start. Then He can do amazing things in your life.

I am living proof of that.

 

Baggage Part II: Polaroids of the Past

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If you’ve lived long enough to make at least one incredibly stupid decision, you’ve got some of these. Maybe you’re like me with lots of small regrets, moments of time captured in your mind as clear as the images on a polaroid.

They call it flash bulb memory, where you can remember every single detail of a certain moment in time where something in your life changed. Those happen in good moments, in tragic moments, and most of all, in moments where you and I screwed up.

Maybe you are like me and have been carrying around a suitcase full of those images for years. The suitcase keeps getting heavier and heavier as you compile more polaroids of shame and guilt. More moments you would give anything to go back and undo.

Jesus wants those polaroids. Not for the reasons you think. He’s not going to be shocked or surprised by what He sees. He knows about each and every one. In fact, He was there when they happened.

He wants all of these pictures, not to hold them over your head every day or to make you feel perpetually ashamed. He wants to take them from you and case them as far away from you as possible. As far as the east is from the west. As far as the heavens are above the earth.

I am not my mistakes. Neither are you. Who I was in my weakest moments is not who I am. The way you acted all those years ago isn’t really you anymore. If anyone is in Christ, he or she is a brand new creation. Not a better you, but a completely new you.

It’s time to stop being weighed down by the past and start walking in the freedom that comes with new mercies and clean slates each morning. It’s time to really live in the freedom Christ purchased for us, the condemnation-free life that is now ours.

Baggage Part I: Letting Go

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Who doesn’t have baggage? I certainly know I do. I’m pretty sure anyone who is over the age of 5 and who still has a pulse has accumulated some kind of baggage over the years.

What is my baggage? Probably right now, I’m carrying around the constant need to be validated, affirmed, approved, and liked every single moment.

I find myself at the end of conversations thinking I’ve said or texted the absolute wrong thing and ruined the relationship. Things like, “Did I really just end the conversation with ‘Text me’? Is it even possible for there to be a lamer ending to a conversation?”

I think I let go of a little bit of my baggage tonight. I think I’ve finally come to the point where I may not trust myself to keep my relationships alive, but I know that God will keep the right people in my life for as long as they need to be there.

I’ve mentioned before that I am a work in progress. I’m 4o and my dating history reads like a black comedy or a tragedy (either one works, so take your pick). I haven’t had a real girlfriend since I was 5 (her name was Carrie, by the way).

I think I’m more comfortable with my own path and not trying to hijack God’s plan for someone else. I’m learning to enjoy the process and the journey and not be so OCD about the destination.

I think I’m learning that I don’t have to be clever or witty (or even overly coherent) for God to speak through me.

I’m finally learning to be patient with my own process and who I am becoming. I’m more patient with the shortcomings of others, because I’ve seen so much of my own and I’ve seen how very strong God can be in my weakness.

What is your baggage? You have a choice. You can either hold on to your shame and guilt and fear and anger or you can hold onto Jesus, but you can’t hold on to both. And yes, I borrowed that one from Mike Glenn.

You don’t have to carry that baggage forever. You don’t have to let it define you or be a pemanent part of your wardrobe. It all begins with saying, “I can’t do this anymore. I need you, Jesus, to take this and carry it for me.” It may be a process, but it’s so much fun to feel the weight fall off.

May you find that what you’ve carried all this time is one day no longer a part of you. May you find more and more freedom in Christ. May you hear and believe the words at this very moment that “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Amen.

Some Reminders For You and Me

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Sometimes, I need to be reminded because I am forgetful and easily distracted. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who needs the reminder. So here is a list of reminders for us to consider.

1) God is for us, not against us. He’s not out to kill our dreams or take away what brings us happiness and pleasure, but to be our Ultimate Joy and show us true fulfullment by helping us become all He made us to be.

2) You don’t have to be an expert theologian or communicator to share your faith. You don’t even have to be good. You just have to have a story to tell and a voice to tell it.

3) God is much more interested in your inside world than your outward appearance. It’s no good to wrap yourself in good works and activities if you have a bad heart. God doesn’t want all your best efforts; He wants all of you. He doesn’t want to make you better; He wants to make you come alive.

4) You need to be less hard on yourself. So do I. If God can forgive us, why can’t we forgive ourselves? I read that we should be able to believe what God says about us, no matter how beautiful it may seem.

5) Freedom starts with honesty. I can never be free if I’m not honest about where I’ve fallen short. Sure there’s grace, but grace doesn’t cover denials, only confessions.

6) Sometimes, we can worship strong with our hands held high. Sometimes, we need others to hold our arms up. Sometimes, we need others to pray the words we can’t find and believe for what we can’t see.

7) OK, there’s not really a 7th point, but I really didn’t want to end on 6. It just didn’t feel right.

Most of all, may we be reminded every morning and every night that our Abba Father loves us and is very fond of us and delights in us and sings over us every night.

Prodigal

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Both sermons I heard today touched on the parable on the Prodigal son. I can think of no better story that really illustrates the scandalous nature of God’s love for His children.

In fact, the parable could more accurately be called The Prodigal God, since the word prodigal means “characterized by profuse or wasteful expenditure” or “recklessly spendthrift” (according to Merriam-Webster). God’s love is both.

It’s prodigal that God paid way too high a price for me with His Son Jesus. It’s prodigal that Jesus didn’t shed some or most of His blood, but all of it for me. It’s way more than I or anyone else deserves.

There’s a fantastic book that’s been out of print for years called The Autobiography of God by Lloyd John Ogilvie. He has a chapter on “The Prodigal God” that impacted me when I read it the first time and still comes to mind every time I hear the Prodigal Son story.

It was shocking to the hearers of the parable the way the father in the story let the younger son have his share. For the son to ask for it while the father was still living was to say in essence, “Drop dead!” and show the utmost comtempt for him.

Even more scandalous was how the father not only received his son at the end of the story, but how he ran to him and threw his arms around him and kissed him. Well-respected men in that day didn’t run. It was not considered dignified. But this father wasn’t about to wait one more second for his son who was coming home.

The Cross is so much more shocking and scandalous than we normally paint it in our sanitized sermons on the subject. By the time Jesus got to the cross, He was barely recognizable as human.

That’s the kind of scandalous, prodigal love God has for those of his prodigal children, whether we rebel in a far country or at home. Honestly, the far country doesn’t have to be geographically distant. It can be relational distance, too.

So if you have experienced radigal grace and forgiveness, take time today to express your gratitude for this prodigal God whose prodigal love for us is the reason we are forgiven and free.

What’s It Worth to You?

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I had some hard questions that smacked me upside the head today. Questions like these:

What in my life am I so passionate about that I would sacrifice everything else for?

Is what I believe just mental assent or does it a actually change the way I live?

Am I a follower when it’s convenient or will I still follow even when it costs me something?

Do those I work with know that I’m a follower of Jesus and could they see the way I act and speak and be able to tell a difference?

Am I following Jesus as a means to my own goals and dreams or for the sake of knowing and becoming more like Him?

Can I be okay with living in limbo with unanswered questions and unfulfilled desires and silences from God?

When Monday and the week start all over again, will I be willing to pick up my cross and carry it and follow Jesus no matter what?

Those are some questions that are haunting me right now. In my own strength I could only say no, but with God’s help and strength and Jesus in me, I am finally and firmly able to offer up an absolute yes.

In my own power I will choose ease and comfort and me every time, but in the power of the risen Christ, I can choose sacrifice and picking up my cross and, ultimately, to be a vessel through which Jesus can tangibly love the world.

May the same be said of each of you.

An Awesome Definition for Worship

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“Worship is extravagant love and extreme submission.”

I love that definition.

Too often, worship is all about singing songs. It’s all too easy to sit back and critique the song choices and musical styles and whether or not those around me are worshiping the “right” way.

In Nashville, it’s easy to let worship become all about the level of musicianship and charasmatic personality. It’s easy to manipulate a crowd into a frenzy if you’re talented enough, but that’s not worship.

Worship is extravagant love. I can’t help but thinking about the woman who poured the expensive perfume on Jesus’ feet and then wiped those feet with her hair. That was more than inconvenient. That was extremely costly and humiliating. That’s worship.

It’s also extreme submission. It’s surrendering my own illusion of self-control and admitting that I have a desperate need for God. And it starts long before you enter the sanctuary and the church service and doesn’t end when you pass the exit doors on your way out into the parking lot.

Worship is not an event, but a lifestyle of saying, “Not my will, but Thine.”

I don’t normally do this, but I posted a link to a fantastic blog about the nature of worship that I ran across today.

http://allsonsanddaughters.com/2012/03/26/art-in-worship-join-the-conversation/

I challenge to you read it and let it soak into your very being.

If I’m truly worshipping in Romans 12:1-2 fashion and being transformed by the renewing of my mind and offering my body as a living sacrifice, then it won’t matter whether I’m singing the most current and trendy modern worship songs or the old, old hymns.

It won’t matter if there’s a rockin’ worship band, or a guy with a guitar, or an orchestra and choir, or just a piano and organ.

It will be worship. It will declare the great worth of God to the world.

After all, like the song says, it’s not about me. It’s all about You, Jesus.

My Confession Booth (Stolen from Blue Like Jazz)

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image

I love the fact that they kept the confession booth from the book entitled Blue Like Jazz for the movie of the same name. I also love the fact that it is a very non-religious Christian movie.

The idea behind the confession booth is not receiving confession, but in giving one. Sorta like this.

We confess that we’ve done a poor job of representing God and Who He is. We’ve made Him in our image and had Him hate all the same people we do, people whose sins we magnify and villify because those aren’t the sins we struggle with.

We confess that we’ve made our faith a means to a political platform and getting our man elected. We’ve made our faith a means to more effectively climbing the corporate ladder and making even more money.

We confess that while we look down our noses at unbelievers, we don’t look much different. Our vocabulary and our lifestyles are too much like theirs for them to take our message seriously.

We confess that we’ve replaced the holier-than-thous with hipper-and-trendier-than thous, and made faith an exclusive club that you have to dress the right way and know the right words and the right people to be able to join.

We confess that we’re so proud of knowing God and have forgotten that the only reason we know Him is because He first loved us and revealed Himself to us. We confess that without His revelation, we’d be completely in the dark, the blind leading the blind, banging our heads against the same stone walls.

We confess that for too long too many of us have been ashamed of this Jesus who saved us and wasn’t above being made a spectacle in front of the crowds so that we could have life better than we thought was possible.

We confess that we have tried to give bumper-sticker answers to complex questions and given people Bible band-aids for deep soul wounds.

We confess that we’re not perfect people. We’re not better than anyone else or more holy or more likeable. We confess that we are the worst of sinners who have found out what it means to be forgiven and free. We want you to know what that looks and feels like, too.

I confess that I need to re-read Blue Like Jazz sometime in the near future because the movie reminded me how much I didn’t remember from the book.

I confess that it is way past my bedtime and I will turn into a flesh-craving zombie if I don’t get to bed in five minutes, so GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS!

My Favorite Bible

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I have to admit it. I have an addiction. Of all things, I’m addicted to collecting Bibles, particularly the pocket-sized ones. So far, I have a NASB, ESV, NIV, RSV, NRSV, HCSB, NLT, KJV, NKJV, NCV, CEV, ASV, Amplified, Pbillips, and the Message. That’s a lot of initials. And a lot of Bibles.

My favorite Bible that I own didn’t cost very much. It looks like it didn’t cost very much. But I love it.

It’s a Greek-English Interlinear Bible with the Revised Standard Version on the side margins. That means it has the Greek text and underneath each Greek word is the closest English word. It’s as literal a translation as you can get.

It takes a bit of getting used to, as the word order in Greek sentences isn’t always structured like it is in English. Often, the most important words come first, not the usual subject-verb-type structure.

For me, it is as close as I get to reading the original Greek New Testament. I can still sound out the Greek words, but I’d be lost without those little English words underneath.

The point of all that is for you to find the one you like and read it. It could be a literal translation or one of those dynamic equivalents, which are “thought for thought,” rather than “word for word.” Heck, it could even be a paraphrase, like the infamous Message version by Eugene Peterson.

Just find one that speaks to you, that makes the Word of God come alive to you and makes you fall in love with it. Find one that won’t be just mere words on a page, but words that change your life.

I heard once that if you have a Bible that’s falling apart, it usually means that your life isn’t. I don’t mean bad things never happen when you’re soaked in Scripture, but you have a solid foundation from which to anchor down in the stormy seasons of life.

By the way, my Bible doesn’t look anywhere as good as the Bible in this picture. But what matters is what’s inside. Kinda the same for you and me, don’t ya think?