Hopelessness is normal

Psalm 88 is unlike any of the other psalms. Read it for yourself and see if you come away with the same impression I get.

O Lord God, my savior, I cry out to you during the day and at night.
Let my prayer come into your presence. Turn your ear to hear my cries.
My soul is filled with troubles, and my life comes closer to the grave.
I am numbered with those who go into the pit. I am like a man without any strength—
abandoned with the dead, like those who have been killed and lie in graves,
like those whom you no longer remember, who are cut off from your power.
You have put me in the bottom of the pit—in deep, dark places.
Your rage lies heavily on me. You make all your waves pound on me.
Selah

You have taken my friends far away from me. You made me disgusting to them.
I’m shut in, and I can’t get out.
My eyes grow weak because of my suffering. All day long I call out to you, O Lord.
I stretch out my hands to you in prayer.

Will you perform miracles for those who are dead?
Will the spirits of the dead rise and give thanks to you?
Selah

Will anyone tell about your mercy in Sheol or about your faithfulness in Abaddon?
Will anyone know about your miracles in that dark place
or about your righteousness in the place where forgotten people live?

I cry out to you for help, O Lord,
and in the morning my prayer will come into your presence.

Why do you reject my soul, O Lord? Why do you hide your face from me?
Ever since I was young, I have been suffering and near death.
I have endured your terrors, and now I am in despair.
Your burning anger has swept over me. Your terrors have destroyed me.
They swirl around me all day long like water. They surround me on all sides.
You have taken my loved ones and friends far away from me.

Darkness is my only friend!

WOW…what a depressing, hopeless psalm! The author is beaten down. He is defeated. There is no hope…”darkness is my only friend.”

As we read the Psalms, a good number start out in a similar way. The biggest difference is that a change occurs in the middle of the rest. There is always an “until” or a “but” that changes the focus back on God’s faithfulness, His goodness.

So, a logical question would be “WHY would this have been included?”

I think a possible explanation is that hopelessness is natural. Everyone experiences it at some point or another. Most of us experience hopelessness many times in life.

I recently heard a radio preacher say, “From Genesis 3 to Revelation 20, the Bible is a picture of the hopelessness of the human condition.” Hopelessness will not disappear until time goes away.

Want to see hopeless? Look at Job.

Job wasn’t a “righteous” man. According to God, Job was the MOST righteous man on the Earth in his day. That’s not like Jason saying, “Job was a good guy.” I cannot imagine higher praise than for God Himself to label Job “best man on the planet.”

Job was greatly blessed. He had a large family, good friends, and was very wealthy.

Well, Job had the “bad day” to top all “bad days.” In the course of ONE DAY, Job lost everything. Thieves stole all of his working animals; oxen, donkeys, and camels. His flocks of sheep were burned up in a fire. His servants were murdered by the animal thieves. AND his children were killed when a wind storm collapsed the house on them.

How does one respond to that? Job, the “most righteous man on the Earth” WORSHIPPED God. Are you kidding me? He WORSHIPPED???

“Job stood up, tore his robe in grief, and shaved his head.

Then he fell to the ground and worshipped. He said,
“Naked I came from my mother, and naked I will return.
The Lord has given, and the Lord has taken away!
May the name of the Lord be praised.”

Through all this Job did not sin or blame God for doing anything wrong.”

(Job 1:20-22)

A little time passes, and Job has another unbelievably bad day. (We know it wasn’t a long time because Job was still sitting in the ashes, grieving over his loss.) Job is suddenly struck with painful boils all over his body…from his feet to his head. It is so painful that Job takes broken pottery and scratches himself.

Job’s loving wife says “Are you still holding on to your principles? Curse God and die!” Basically she says, “You moron! God’s forgotten you! Reject Him. You’re better off dead!” Then Job responds as the most righteous man on the planet would. He says, “You’re talking like a godless fool. We accept the good that God gives us. Shouldn’t we also accept the bad?” Through all of these devastations, Job’s lips never uttered one sinful word.

Then Job’s 3 best friends show up; Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar. These men knew Job better than anyone. I’m sure Job saw them coming and thought “Ah, my friends! They’ll help ease my pain.” But when these 3 friends were still a distance from Job, they saw him and couldn’t even recognize him. They were so vexed that they tore their OWN clothes, cried out and bitterly wept for Job. They sat on the ground with him for 7 days, not speaking a word, because of Job’s great pain.

Finally, Job speaks. It’s not pleasant. Job curses the day he was born. He says that day should never have happened…erase it. Then he asks why he wasn’t stillborn. He says “at least, I would be at rest, sleeping peacefully. Finally, Job has lost his will to live. He questions the purpose of life. He says “What I fear most overtakes me. What I dread happens to me. I have no peace! I have no quiet! I have no rest! And trouble keeps coming!”

Job has had enough!

Ah, but in steps Eliphaz. Wise, patient Eliphaz. Best friend, Eliphaz, who knows Job as well as anyone. Friends like Eliphaz are…well…special.

We all have well-meaning friends who can say terribly stupid things when silence was working just fine. At one point or another, we all HAVE BEEN those well-meaning friends. We feel as if we should say SOMETHING, ANYTHING to help...and we wind up shooting off our mouths and doing much more damage than good.

Enter dear friend Eliphaz and his big, irresponsible, know-it-all mouth.

He addresses Job and says, “You think about this: Name me an innocent person who ever died an untimely death. Find me a decent person who has been destroyed like you’ve been! People who plant misery and plow wickedness, well, they harvest it, buddy.” In other words, Eliphaz says “Job, only evil people suffer. You’ve been bad and God’s getting you for it.” For two whole chapters, Eliphaz tells Job he’s horrible and what he needs to do to fix it.

Wait a minute. God says Job is the BEST PERSON in the world. Eliphaz says Job is wicked. Guess what? Job KNEW that he hadn’t done anything to provoke God’s wrath. Job proclaims his innocence and begs that God stop the turmoil and just leave him alone.

Great friend Bildad comes to the rescue. He’ll put a stop to this nonsense! He tells Job to stop denying his guilt, stop accusing God, and even says Job’s children got what they deserved. He reiterates Eliphaz’ contention that God does not punish innocent people. He also indicates his belief that Job has some hidden sin in his life. Again, a friend assumes to know Job better than he knows himself.

Righteous Job warns of the futility of arguing with God. “How can I possibly answer God? How can I find the right words to even speak with Him? He made everything, I am nothing!” Job now HATES his life. He says to God “Isn’t my life short enough? Stop this and leave me alone. Let me smile a little before I die.”

Boon companion, Zophar has heard enough. He feels as if someone should respond to Job; to defend God’s position. So, he takes it upon himself. He tells Job that God can do what he pleases. He says it’s time for Job to just confess his sin and be forgiven. A third time, a “friend” accuses Job of hidden wickedness.

Job finally responds with “My friends have no wisdom. God has power and priceless wisdom.” He accuses his friends of misrepresenting God. Job then addresses God, professes his innocence, and begs for God to respond.

Eliphaz opens his trap again and accuses Job of speaking sinfully. He, again, accuses Job of living a wicked and sinful life. Dear Bildad decides to as “Who do you think you are, Job? Why are you so great?” Then he goes on to describe what wicked people should expect in life. Even Zophar once again accuses Job of sin.

At some point, I would have told my moronic friends to leave…that they weren’t helping.

But righteous Job was patient. He’s called his friends “unwise” and then says they haven’t eased any of his pain. Then Job appeals his case to heaven.

Job asks how long his friends will continue to depress and torment him. He says “you’ve insulted me ten times and aren’t even ashamed of falsely accusing me.” But Job, ultimately has confidence in God. “But I know that my redeemer lives.”

Job realizes that while he doesn’t understand WHY all this has happened, he knows the source of all hope.

But Job’s friends aren’t done. They continue to lecture him and tell him everything that is wrong with his life. It’s clear that Job’s friends don’t know him. They don’t know Job’s heart. They are making assumptions and casting aspersions.

Finally Job says, “Listen carefully to my words and let that be the comfort you offer me. Bear with me while I speak.” Loosely translated, Job says “Ok, you’ve said enough. My friends, if you want to give me comfort, SHUT UP and LISTEN. Your words have been a waste of breath. You have betrayed me.”

Job even begins to believe his friends and wonders what sin he could have committed, one that he’s unaware of, to have brought God’s wrath.

In the end, Job’s life is restored. He has 10 more children, and gets to see grand children and great-grand children. God blesses Job with wealth, including thousands of sheep, camels, oxen, and donkeys…twice as much as he’d previously owned.

The bulk of the written account of Job is a study in hopelessness. The most righteous man on the face of the earth suffers like no other man and becomes hopeless. How can ANY of us deny the periods of hopelessness in our own lives? How can we act like these times are anything other than natural? We ALL face times of hopelessness. We can easily take our focus off of the SOURCE of all hope.

There is but ONE cure for hopelessness: HOPE.

So, where does hope come from? Psalm 39 says “My only hope is You, God.” Psalm 71 says “You are my hope, O Lord Almighty.”

“My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness!” Without Him, I have NO hope in this life or beyond.

In the midst of this storm, where I am surrounded by hopeless people in hopeless situations, my focus MUST be on the only author of hope. If my focus is anywhere else, then I am susceptible to being overcome by the hopelessness that surrounds me.

Oh, God, let my eyes, my mind, and my heart be focused solely on You. How else can I bring hope to a lost and dying world? In and of myself, I can do nothing. My only hope is You. Keep me ever mindful of that. Protect my mind and heart from the effects of the hopelessness around me. Make me an instrument of Your hope, Your grace, Your peace, and Your love as I seek to serve You and minister to those who need You most.

Pastor/Shepherd thoughts

Recently, I was ordained into the ministry. I’ve always suspected that an ordination would come, although I never sought it for myself. Ministering is part of who I am. It’s what God designed me to do. Nothing really changed with my ordination because all I know how to do is minister, lead, and serve. It’s part of my “spiritual DNA” and there’s no escaping it for me.

Ever since the subject of my ordination became a possibility, I’ve been thinking about the job of “pastor.” First of all, a definition seems in order. We all know what a pastor is, what a pastor does…or do we?

According to dictionary.com, a pastor is (1) “a minister or priest in charge of a church”; and (2) “a person having spiritual care of a number of persons.” The origin of the word roots in Latin (pāstor)…meaning, literally, “shepherd.”

So, where do we get this concept from? Well, the concept of tending sheep is nearly as old as time itself. Genesis, chapter 4 is the first mention of it. Abel, the murdered son of Adam and Eve, was a shepherd. Sheep/shepherding is mentioned numerous times throughout the remainder of Genesis. Sheep were an important business in the ancient world and remained that way for centuries.

After the time of the judges, the people of Israel demanded a shepherd from God (1 Samuel 8). They got king Saul. After Saul, came David, who spent his youth working as a shepherd, where he defended his sheep against lions and bears. David never forgot his time with his sheep and often drew parallels, most prominently in Psalm 23.

In the time of king Ahab, the Israelites are compared to sheep without a shepherd, lost, and “scattered upon the hills” of Israel. Ahab was an evil king and did more to provoke God’s wrath than any king before him, but set a standard of poor leadership, poor pastoring, that lasted generations (1 Kings 16).

The Prophet Ezekiel is highly critical of the shepherds of the people of Israel. Under these irresponsible shepherds, the people were scattered as sheep without a shepherd, but the time would come when the sheep were gathered back together in their own land (Ezekiel 34).

The first announcement of Jesus’ birth was to shepherds (Luke 2:8-20).

Jesus called Himself the “Good Shepherd” (John 10:11).

But none of that answers the question of a pastor’s job responsibilities.

Simon Peter and his brother, Andrew, are among the first disciples and when Jesus called them, he “spoke their language.” When seeing them casting a net into the water, Jesus said “Come, follow me and I will make you fishers of men” (Matthew 4:18-20). Peter is a fisherman who is turned into a shepherd over 3 ½ years. I’m sure it was beyond Peter’s comprehension to see how this could occur.

Everyone in 1^st century Israel understood the job of herding sheep…and it was undesirable. Shepherds were seen as the lowest members of society. They were smelly and, when not herding sheep, worked at the public latrines. Nobody wanted to be a shepherd, but here was bold and brash Peter, becoming identified with humility and the lowest of social status.

The last chapter of John, right after the resurrection, Jesus explains Peter’s position:

“Peter, do you love me? Feed my lambs.”

“Peter, do you love me? Tend my sheep.”

“Peter, do you love me? Feed my sheep.”

Just 40-50 days before preaching at Pentecost, Peter is given his job description…”be a shepherd.” In the 5^th chapter of his first epistle, Peter encourages other pastors to “feed the flock.” This is where Peter ceases to be a fisherman and becomes a shepherd. Notice the difference compared to Matthew 4:18-20.

The thing about sheep is, well, we’re dumb, fat, and lazy. Sheep tend to wander away from the flock. Sheep are easily frightened. They’ll lay in their own poop to avoid having to move. If a sheep were to fall on it’s back, it cannot right itself and will die. Sheep need a LOT of tending. Sheep need to be led to good grazing and fresh water.

We’re all sheep who’ve gone astray. Even the shepherds among us are sheep. That does not, however, negate the responsibilities of being pastors or shepherds.

So, again, what are the responsibilities of a pastor? According to John 21, it’s to feed and take care of the sheep. We have cast upon our shepherds responsibilities that aren’t designed for them. It’s a pastor’s job to give us a good diet of the Word of God. The pastor’s job is to keep us healthy and disciplined. Sometimes, the crook of a shepherd’s staff is needed to get a wayward sheep’s attention.

It is NOT the primary job of a shepherd, to produce baby sheep. Healthy, well-fed sheep should have a desire, a drive, to reproduce. Instead, we expect evangelism to happen behind the pulpit. We say “that’s what he’s getting paid to do.” Part of the fault for this attitude lies with the sheep. Some of the fault lies with the shepherds for allowing it.

Today, our churches are full of timid, wimpy, co-dependent sheep who, not only cannot, but WILL not share their faith. Why do we settle for this? Why have we allowed this in our own lives, in our churches?

Healthy sheep will reproduce. Your pastor has his job, and you have yours. If you’ve never shared your faith…if you are not compelled to see others come to Christ, you may not be healthy…or you may not actually be a sheep.

Thoughts? Comments?

hospital thoughts

What she specifically said isn’t important. How it was phrased is simply between us. Her motivation is her business.

It was a statement brought on by pain, heavy medication, maybe some fear and uncertainty. There could have been some remorse mixed in. But I’m not sure that’s the point either.

In 7+ years of knowing this lady, I’ve spent more time in hospitals than I care to think about…but never as a patient. I’ve caught myself fearing whether I’d survive without her, if something should go wrong. We’ve laughed together in hospitals. We’ve cried together. We’ve held each other and cried out to God for grace and mercy in hospitals. We’ve even snuggled together in a tiny patient-bed in a hospital.

But tonight was different.

We’d had visitors all day…and their love and concern was much appreciated. But after everyone went home, and it was just us, I pulled a chair beside the bed and just held her hand. She thanked ME for taking care of HER. Then, in her own self-deprecating way, she said what she said.

If you’d heard her, you’d think she believed that she walked into the hospital as one person, and a few hours later, she was someone else.

Now, I don’t claim to be able to imagine the changes she will undergo over the next days/weeks, nor how it will affect her mentally, emotionally, or physically. I do know it won’t be easy, and that I am totally unequipped to help her.

Anyway, the point is NOT what she said, how she said it, her motivation, nor my ability to understand what’s coming.

The point was my response…and my surprise at that response; the simplicity of it, and the depth of it's truth for me.

I said, “We knew this day was coming eventually. It was inevitable. Frankly, I’m surprised we got what we got. I mean, we are so blessed! God gave us 2 beautiful daughters, who just so happen to be miracles. The odds are astronomical against them even existing…but God reached past the statistics. TWICE. Life is about changing and adapting, and that’s all we can do now. This is just life. We just go on.”

It surprised me because I rarely say the right things. I hardly ever say things the right way. I am direct and blunt and only occasionally temper my words with the proper emotion. I think I got it right this time…but it was just my heart talking to hers.

I reinforced to myself today that I don’t love my wife. Rather, I am IN LOVE with her. As I sit here pecking away on my laptop while she sleeps uncomfortably in a hospital bed, I realize how desperately I need my rib…and how incomplete I’d be without her. It’s strange to think of the times I considered having found my rib before I met Christy.

I understand even better tonight that the fairy-tales we read as children don’t translate to the real world.

Real life is yucky sometimes. Real life is hard, often. It’s made up of many messy situations, failures, apologies, and the occasional victory or success.

Earlier, when she thanked me for taking care of her, I asked her “Where else would I be?” The truth is: I don’t want to think about where I’d be without her.

Chris, I’m glad that I could say what you needed to hear tonight. I’m even-more glad that what you needed to hear was the truth, straight from my heart. Thanks for taking this crazy journey with me. I don’t want to imagine it without you.

I love you.

Frustrating period in history

Ok, so it’s been a long time since I’ve added to my blog. More often than not, when I’m not writing, it’s because I’m being lazy…and not that I’m uninspired.

Lately, I’ve been disheartened by a number of “Christians” who are having some vastly un-Christ-like attitudes toward our government and our president. From flippant talk of revolution, to disrespectful attitudes and speech, to having the gall to call the President of the United States the “antichrist.”

I use a phrase quite often: “perception is reality.” What we believe to be true is typically a product of what we expect to see. We enter most situations with a presupposition of what is real…of what is true. That taints our objectivity. It molds our perception. Ultimately, we each see different details and aspects in virtually everything. It’s natural for us to perceive things differently. It’s ok for us to disagree on some things. However, I don’t believe this is one of those things.

I cannot find ONE instance where Jesus Christ, the One we claim to follow and emulate, encouraged (or advocated) revolution. NOT ONCE. Rather, He said “give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what is God’s.” Jesus never led a revolt against Herod, Pilate, nor Caesar. He didn’t picket anyone. Jesus never held a sit-in nor a boycott. If He is our ultimate example, where do we get off doing things He wouldn’t have done? How can we call ourselves Christians and act like we HATE our government or our President? What happened to “love your enemies” or “do good to those who persecute you?” Today’s Christianity has become political in nature…and we, for the most part, have forgotten what we are supposed to be…reflections of our Savior.

By the way, here’s a simplified civics lesson for anyone who may need it. We live in a Representative Republic…NOT a Democracy. A “republic” is a political unit governed by a charter (the Constitution). A “democracy” is a government whose prevailing force is always “majority rule.” If we, as American Christians, are going to be upset at our government, it’s the abandonment of the Constitution that should draw our ire. Some of our Founding Fathers may have advocated periodic revolutions…to protect citizens from out-of-control government. That said, it is not the reaction Christians should have.

The Bible is clear on what our attitude should be toward those in authority over us. Romans 13:1-7 (NIV) says “Everyone must submit himself to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. Consequently, he who rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves. For rulers hold no terror for those who do right, but for those who do wrong. Do you want to be free from fear of the one in authority? Then do what is right and he will commend you. For he is God's servant to do you good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword for nothing. He is God's servant, an agent of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer. Therefore, it is necessary to submit to the authorities, not only because of possible punishment but also because of conscience. This is also why you pay taxes, for the authorities are God's servants, who give their full time to governing. Give everyone what you owe him: If you owe taxes, pay taxes; if revenue, then revenue; if respect, then respect; if honor, then honor.” That, to me, is pretty CLEAR.

Which brings me to the next thing: we don’t know a lot about our President. Because so much has been hidden from public view, there have been a tremendous number of wild allegations. I don’t know if he was born in Hawaii or Kenya. (Is that important? ABSOLUTELY…if we believe in our Constitution…see above concerning Republic vs. Democracy.) After 20+ years as a member of Jeremiah Wright’s church, we can easily conclude that Barack Obama is not a Muslim…yet because of his name, there are people who refuse to believe he’s anything other than Muslim. Jeremiah Wright is a socialist, a Marxist, and our President’s policies and subsequent statements show that he, too, is a socialist. For those who have done less homework than I have, Socialism and Islam are incompatible. One cannot be Muslim and a socialist. They are opposites at the heart. While I don't agree with many of his policies, Barack Obama is still the President of my country. It is my responsibility to PRAY FOR HIM...especially if I believe that he needs Jesus.

There are people out there who have actually claimed that they believe our President to be THE Antichrist. What??? Read your Bible and quit listening to alarmists. Go get some commentaries on Daniel and Revelation so you can understand what the Bible says about the identity of the antichrist.

If you hate our president, that’s between yourself and God…and you will answer for it.

But please stop hating in the name of my Jesus...who died for ALL and is not willing that ANY should perish.

It’s time to stop fulfilling 1 Timothy 4:1-2 “Now the Holy Spirit tells us clearly that in the last times some will turn away from the true faith; they will follow deceptive spirits and teachings that come from demons. These people are hypocrites and liars, and their consciences are dead.”

If you’re a Christian who is frustrated with the state of America, claim 2 Chronicles 7:14. “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven, will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.”

Helloooooo! “My people…called by My name” means ANYONE claiming to be a Christian! If Christ is my Savior, I choose to be called by His name! God PROMISES that if we, His people, humble ourselves, pray, seek His face, and turn from our sin, that He will forgive us and HEAL OUR LAND. It’s not a difficult concept to grasp. It’s about where our faith rests. Have faith in Him who is eternally faithful!

Otherwise, it’s time to shut up and quit whining.

gorgeous song

Free Doughnuts

a friend of mine sent this to me. i think it paints a vivid picture. i do not know who authored this, but if i find out, i will credit them.


There was a certain Professor of Religion named Dr. Christianson, a studious man who taught at a small college in the western United States. Dr. Christianson taught the required survey course in Christianity at this particular institution. Every student was required to take this course his freshman year, regardless of his or her major. Although Dr. Christianson tried hard to communicate the essence of the gospel in his class, he found that most of his students looked upon the course as nothing but required drudgery. Despite his best efforts, most students refused to take Christianity seriously.

This year, Dr. Christianson had a special student named Steve. Steve was only a freshman, but was studying with the intent of going on to seminary for the ministry. Steve was popular, he was well liked, and he was an imposing physical specimen. He was now the starting center on the school football team, and was the best student in the professor's class.

One day, Dr. Christianson asked Steve to stay after class so he could talk with him. 'How many push-ups can you do?' Steve said, 'I do about 200 every night.' '200? That's pretty good, Steve, ' Dr. Christianson said. 'Do you think you could do 300?' Steve replied, 'I don't know.... I've never done 300 at a time.' 'Do you think you could?' again asked Dr. Christianson. 'Well, I can try,' said Steve. 'Can you do 300 in sets of 10? I have a class project in mind and I need you to do about 300 push-ups in sets of ten for this to work. Can you do it? I need you to tell me you can do it,' said the professor. Steve said, 'Well... I think I can...yeah, I can do it.' Dr. Christianson said, 'Good! I need you to do this on Friday. Let me explain what I have in mind.'

Friday came and Steve got to class early and sat in the front of the room. When class started, the professor pulled out a big box of donuts. No, these weren't the normal kinds of donuts, they were the extra fancy BIG kind, with cream centers and frosting swirls. Everyone was pretty excited it was Friday, the last class of the day, and they were going to get an early start on the weekend with a party in Dr. Christianson's class.

Dr. Christianson went to the first girl in the first row and asked, 'Cynthia, do you want to have one of these donuts?' Cynthia said, 'Yes.' Dr. Christianson then turned to Steve and asked, 'Steve, would you do ten push-ups so that Cynthia can have a donut?' 'Sure!' Steve jumped down from his desk to do a quick ten. Then Steve again sat in his desk. Dr. Christianson put a donut on Cynthia's desk.

Dr. Christianson then went to Joe, the next person, and asked, 'Joe, do you want a donut?'
Joe said, 'Yes.' Dr. Christianson asked, 'Steve would you do ten push-ups so Joe can have a donut?' Steve did ten push-ups, Joe got a donut. And so it went, down the first aisle, Steve did ten push-ups for every person before they got their donut.

Walking down the second aisle, Dr. Christianson came to Scott. Scott was on the basketball team, and in as good condition as Steve. He was very popular and never lacking for female companionship. When the professor asked, 'Scott do you want a donut?' Scott's reply was, 'Well, can I do my own push-ups?' Dr. Christianson said, 'No, Steve has to do them.' Then Scott said, 'Well, I don't want one then.'

Dr. Christianson shrugged and then turned to Steve and asked, 'Steve, would you do ten push-ups so Scott can have a donut he doesn't want?' With perfect obedience Steve started to do ten push-ups. Scott said, 'HEY! I said I didn't want one!' Dr. Christianson said, 'Look!, this is my classroom, my class, my desks, and these are my donuts. Just leave it on the desk if you don't want it.' And he put a donut on Scott's desk.

Now by this time, Steve had begun to slow down a little. He just stayed on the floor between sets because it took too much effort to be getting up and down. You could start to see a little perspiration coming out around his brow. Dr. Christianson started down the third row. Now the students were beginning to get a little angry.

Dr. Christianson asked Jenny, 'Jenny, do you want a donut?' Sternly, Jenny said, 'No.' Then Dr. Christianson asked Steve, 'Steve, would you do ten more push-ups so Jenny can have a donut that she doesn't want?' Steve did ten....Jenny got a donut.

By now, a growing sense of uneasiness filled the room. The students were beginning to say, 'No!' and there were all these uneaten donuts on the desks. Steve also had to really put forth a lot of extra effort to get these push-ups done for each donut. There began to be a small pool of sweat on the floor beneath his face, his arms and brow were beginning to get red because of the physical effort involved.

Dr. Christianson asked Robert, who was the most vocal unbeliever in the class, to watch Steve do each push up to make sure he did the full ten push-ups in a set because he couldn't bear to watch all of Steve's work for all of those uneaten donuts. He sent Robert over to where Steve was so Robert could count the set and watch Steve closely.

Dr. Christianson started down the fourth row. During his class, however, some students from other classes had wandered in and sat down on the steps along the radiators that ran down the sides of the room. When the professor realized this, he did a quick count and saw that now there were 34 students in the room. He started to worry if Steve would be able to make it.
Dr. Christianson went on to the next person and the next and the next. Near the end of that row, Steve was really having a rough time. He was taking a lot more time to complete each set.
Steve asked Dr. Christianson, 'Do I have to make my nose touch on each one?' Dr. Christianson thought for a moment, 'Well, they're your pushups. You are in charge now. You can do them any way that you want.' And Dr. Christianson went on.

A few moments later, Jason, a recent transfer student, came to the room and was about to come in when all the students yelled in one voice, 'NO! Don't come in! Stay out!' Jason didn't know what was going on. Steve picked up his head and said, 'No, let him come.' Professor Christianson said, 'You realize that if Jason comes in you will have to do ten push-ups for him?' Steve said, 'Yes, let him come in. Give him a donut.' Dr. Christianson said, 'Okay, Steve, I'll let you get Jason's out of the way right now. Jason, do you want a donut?' Jason, new to the room, hardly knew what was going on. 'Yes,' he said, 'give me a donut.' 'Steve, will you do ten push-ups so that Jason can have a donut?' Steve did ten push-ups very slowly and with great effort. Jason, bewildered, was handed a donut and sat down.

Dr. Christianson finished the fourth row, and then started on those visitors seated by the heaters. Steve's arms were now shaking with each push-up in a struggle to lift himself against the force of gravity. By this time sweat was profusely dropping off of his face, there was no sound except his heavy breathing; there was not a dry eye in the room.

The very last two students in the room were two young women, both cheerleaders, and very popular. Dr. Christianson went to Linda, the second to last, and asked, 'Linda, do you want a donut?' Linda said, very sadly, 'No, thank you.' Professor Christianson quietly asked, 'Steve, would you do ten push-ups so that Linda can have a donut she doesn't want?' Grunting from the effort, Steve did ten very slow push-ups for Linda.

Then Dr. Christianson turned to the last girl, Susan. 'Susan, do you want a donut?' Susan, with tears flowing down her face, began to cry. 'Dr. Christianson, why can't I help him?' Dr. Christianson, with tears of his own, said, 'No, Steve has to do it alone; I have given him this task and he is in charge of seeing that everyone has an opportunity for a donut whether they want it or not. When I decided to have a party this last day of class, I looked at my grade book. Steve here is the only student with a perfect grade. Everyone else has failed a test, skipped class, or offered me inferior work. Steve told me that in football practice, when a player messes up he must do push-ups. I told Steve that none of you could come to my party unless he paid the price by doing your push ups. He and I made a deal for your sakes.'

'Steve, would you do ten push-ups so Susan can have a donut?' As Steve very slowly finished his last push-up, with the understanding that he had accomplished all that was required of him, having done 350 push-ups, his arms buckled beneath him and he fell to the floor.

Dr. Christianson turned to the room and said, 'And so it was, that our Savior, Jesus Christ, on the cross, plead to the Father, 'Into thy hands I commend my spirit.' With the understanding that He had done everything that was required of Him, He yielded up His life. And like some of those in this room, many of us leave the gift on the desk, uneaten.'

Two students helped Steve up off the floor and to a seat, physically exhausted, but wearing a thin smile.

'Well done, good and faithful servant,' said the professor, adding, 'Not all sermons are preached in words.'

Turning to his class, the professor said, 'My wish is that you might understand and fully comprehend all the riches of grace and mercy that have been given to you through the sacrifice of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. He spared not His only Begotten Son, but gave Him up for us all, for the whole Church, now and forever. Whether or not we choose to accept His gift to us, the price has been paid. Wouldn't you be foolish and ungrateful to leave it lying on the desk?'

The real lesson of "Doubting Thomas"

“Doubting Thomas” really brings up a negative connotation. I find it interesting how the main thing we remember about the disciple Thomas is his doubt. 

John, chapter 20, tells the story of Jesus’ resurrection. We’re told that He appeared to Mary Magdalene first, and then to a group of His followers. We know that not all of the disciples were present when Jesus appeared to the group. While we cannot know for certain who was there, we do know that Thomas wasn’t present. After hearing the eyewitness accounts, Thomas still didn’t believe. He said “I will not believe it until I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were and put my hand into his side." 

A whole week passes, and the followers of Jesus are meeting again, behind locked doors. Suddenly, Jesus appears among them. He approaches Thomas and says, “Put your finger here, and look at my hands. Put your hand here in my side. Stop being an unbeliever and believe." 

Did Jesus admonish Thomas for his doubt? Was he ridiculed for his lack of faith? Absolutely not. Jesus dealt with Thomas in a “whatever it takes” mode. Jesus said “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed." He did NOT say “Because you had to see me to believe, you are less blessed than those who believe without seeing.”

Thomas wanted to believe. Were that not the case, why would he have still been hanging around with the disciples over a week after Jesus' death? Thomas was desperate to believe, but he needed more than “word of mouth.” Thomas needed a personal encounter with the risen Savior. 

There is no indication that Thomas’ faith was any different (or any less) than anyone else’s. It just took something different to bring Thomas to that point. 

Doubts aren’t evil. Questions aren’t bad. If you have doubts, face them constantly.  If you have questions, keep asking them. 

God may not answer every question you pose to Him, but He will give you what you need if you are sincere...just like Thomas.

Grace

When I was 18, I met Craig Sayle and we became fast friends. Craig viewed God differently than anyone I'd ever met. On the subject of grace, Craig explained that salvation wasn't about me, but about Jesus' sacrifice on my behalf. I responded with something like "yeah, when I was lost and didn't deserve His love, He loved me anyway." Craig said "you don't deserve it now, Jason...but He loves you anyway. The only difference is that you've accepted His gift...but you're still undeserving of it. THAT is the beginning of grace."

In the years since, I've seen God's grace demonstrated in more ways than I can count. As my understanding of grace has become clearer, it's become more evident that it's not about me. I am beginning to understand Paul's plea that he decrease and Christ increase in his life. 

If not for the reality of grace, I have no hope. If not for the evidence of grace, I have no peace. If not for the presence of grace,  I have no purpose. Without the example of grace, I don't have the capacity to love.

In short, there's one thing I'm sure of: without grace, I have nothing. If I don't extend grace to others, I cheapen the reality of the grace in which I survive. Unless I share grace, I take for granted the very grace that allows me to take my next breath. 

Life in the reality of absolute grace is a learning, and humbling process. I wish I was farther along than I am.

Who is God?

Over the last few months, a number of conversations have caused me to think on the question of God's identity.

God isn't holy, He is the definition of holiness. God doesn't love, He is perfect love. God doesn't have a sense of justice, He is justice. God doesn't act mercifully, He is mercy. God isn't gracious, He is the essence of grace. God doesn't hold eternity, He is eternal. He is all these things and more, all intricately tied together. One cannot talk about God's justice without considering His love. One cannot consider His love without also considering his holiness at the same time. He is always everything that He is. His love does not come to us without holiness, mercy, justice, and grace. God defined Himself to Moses...I Am. If we try to define Him differently than that, then we leave some part of His character out of the picture.

We try so hard to understand God...to conjure ideas and words that describe Him. The main problem with that is that we humans are finite beings and cannot fully comprehend He who is infinite. Because of that, we try to put human characteristics onto God, and that leads to some horribly wrong conclusions. Recently, I heard "How can a loving God willingly send His children to hell? I love my children, and no matter how much they disappointed me, I would never cast them into eternal darkness, to be eaten by worms and burned with an eternal fire." The problem with that question and statement is that the person asking tried to put them self on the same level as God, either by elevating them self, or demoting God. God is beyond our understanding because He is infinite and we are finite. All we know is what we can measure. God, on the other hand, is immeasurable. being measureless, we cannot comprehend Him fully...thus the need for faith.

I'll use "time" as an example of this. God exists in the eternal present tense. He always has been and always will be. That is impossible for us to grasp because everything we know is based on time. Our clock starts ticking when we are born, and it counts down until we die. Our life is measured in years. Years are measured in months. Months are measured in days. Our days are measured in hours. Hours are measured in minutes. Minutes are measured in seconds. That is all we know. God, on the other hand, doesn't operate in time. He created time, but it holds no meaning for Him. If I could get a physicist to explain quantum mechanics to you, in a way you could understand, until you put quantum mechanics into practice in your life, it would hold no real meaning for you. God is the same way where time is considered. He understands it (because He created it), but because He doesn't operate in it, time is meaningless to Him.

Below is an illustration I came up with that shows this more clearly than I could describe. There is a dot above a line. The line has an X at either end. The X on the left represents "creation" while the X on the right represents "judgement day." God is represented by the red asterisk.



Everything that mankind understands and experiences falls somewhere on that line; past, present, and future. God, in the eternal present tense, doesn't experience a past, present, or future. In eternity, creation and judgement can be viewed as simultaneous events.


If that is a mind-boggling concept, then consider that everything about God is equally difficult to grasp. If He is who He claims to be, then logically we cannot expect to fully understand His nature on this side of eternity. "Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."


God isn't afraid of our questions. We can ask anything, but He is not obligated to tell us everything we want to know. God is God, and we are not. He is omnipotent and we know less than we think.

Identity

I'm Jason, the son of Mike and Ginger; grandson of Boot and Catherine, John and Mozelle. I'm Christy's husband. I'm Kaylee's daddy. I'm Elisha's daddy. I'm Katie and Lindsay's brother. I'm uncle to Emma, Ellie, Kendall, and Josh.

I'm a friend to some, acquaintance to others, and unknown to most. I'm a customer and a provider. Some would call me "proud" and "arrogant," while others would say I'm "humble" and "too self-critical." I'm a church member and a committee member.

Some call me a cynic, others say I'm honest. I'm caustic and abrasive to some, while quiet and shy to others. Some people think I'm wise, others consider me a fool. I'm known as a malcontent and a visionary. I've been called "cold" and "tender hearted."

So, what is this...a personal inventory? Not really. It's about who I am, really.

When I was young, I saw tendencies in myself that I did not like. I'm critical by nature, and rarely focused on positive things that were part of my personality. I determined, around the age of 12, that I would not allow the negative tendencies to rule my life. The older I got, the more those tendencies would make their way to the surface...and I hated that about myself. Whether I gave in to those tendencies or not, I saw them as weaknesses that I should overcome...to the point where they never reared their ugly heads. There was a constant battle in me to NOT be defined by those things that I hated. It seemed the more I fought them, the worse they got. Now, before anyone starts wondering, I'm not talking about "sin" per se. I'm talking about character traits...personality issues...attitudes. All of those things can lead to sin...but sin is not the subject here.

In my youth, the concept (and reality) of Grace was essentially non-existent. "Grace" was a buzz-word; a punchline. I didn't understand it, and I suspect that very few in my life did either. I knew what grace meant..."unmerited favor"...every good baptist knows that. The problem was that beyond those words..."unmerited favor"...grace meant nothing to me. I knew I'd been saved by grace through faith...but nobody took the time to try to explain it to me. Probably because nobody in my life understood it.

As I've grown to understand grace...mostly by it's evidence in my life...I've come to grips with the fact that if God can love me, knowing me better than I know myself, then I am a fool not to try to see me as He sees me. I was created in His likeness...we all were. Think about that for a second. As different as we all are...as unique as the billions upon billions who've ever walked the Earth...we are ALL created in His likeness. God delights in His creation...and I believe He delights in the diversity of it, specifically. If He'd wanted us all to be alike, He could have used a cookie-cutter and just stamped us out. Nobody would ever have a personality conflict, a difference of opinion, or an argument. He chose to make us unique, yet all of us made like Him. It took a long time for me to like myself...knowing me as well as I do. It took longer for me to really accept me for me...the good, the bad, and the ugly. God made me, just as I am...and He loves me for being me. He delights in ME being ME!

Those who know me well understand that I don't care much what people think of me. My integrity is important, and one of the greatest needs in my life is to be able to look myself in the mirror. Many years ago, I found it difficult to do so because I was living my life to please others...to be what some folks "expected" me to be. I'd tried for SO long to live up to the picture of me that others wanted to see. Those people I respected most...those I wanted to please...they had an idea about who I was supposed to be (because they loved me and wanted the best for me), and I tried to live up to that as a standard. I failed MISERABLY and was, in turn, miserable myself because I wasn't being true to who God had created me to be. When I broke those chains...that bondage to the expectations of others...I was truly free. Free to be me, just as God made me.

I am who I am...and you don't have to like it...but God does...and every day I'm less concerned with what others think or expect. God expects me to be the best Jason I can be. Most days, I fail...but life's much easier with a goal of being all the Jason I can be, and not worrying about other things. When I live to please God, and not man, I fully experience the freedom that His grace provides. 

Are you striving to be the best _______ you can be or are you more concerned about how others see you? Are you striving to live as the image of God you were created as, or the image someone else says you should be?

By the way, I'm pretty sure that I am everything i listed above...and much more.

the good + the bad + the ugly = Jason, just as God made me.

Fatherhood

I cannot deny the joy my girls bring to me daily. There are times, however, when things just aren't very joyful.

Every Wednesday, I take off a half-day to watch my daughters so that my mother-in-law can cook the dinner served at the church. I'm thankful to be in the flexible position that allows me to do this. Our afternoons together are usually uneventful by most people's standards. Today has not been what I'd call "uneventful". I guess some background would be in order before I get to today.

Some may see me as tough or rough. Someone referred to me as "manly." I suppose those terms could be appropriate in a physical context. What most people don't realize is that I have an extremely weak stomach when it comes to smells and can nearly lose my mind when dealing with my 2 year old's brand of logic. Show me anything, it won't bother me...but let me get a whiff of something nasty and things can get bad very quickly. As a matter of fact, I have thrown up on each of my daughters while changing nasty diapers. I hope that doesn't scar them for life. Get Kaylee talking about why she should be allowed to do something, or trying to match wits with her daddy in some other way, and I become a complete moron.

Today, I'd been home for maybe 15 mintues and had just finished lunch when my mom-in-law left for the church. Kaylee and Elisha came upstairs with me and I thought we'd just play until time for naps. They were watching "Max and Ruby" and playing quietly, so I went to my bedroom. Seriously, not more than 3 minutes had passed before I thought "it's too quiet" and went back to look in on them. Elisha is walking down the hall toward me, fingers in her mouth, and something just didn't look right. As we got closer to each other, I could see green around her mouth. I wondered what she was chewing on, but then I noticed her hands were green also. 2 more steps down the hall and I could see Kaylee standing in a corner, smacking her hands on a shelf. 2 more steps and I see the puddle of green paint Kaylee's playing in. My reaction was a natural one. I said "Kaylee Michele! What are you doing?" My wise and honest 2 year-old said, "Painting my room." I said, "And your sister?" Kaylee replied "No daddy. Elisha's not my room. Her helping me." Elisha evidently decided to taste the paint because her lips were green, as was her tongue. She had it in her hair and splatters on her clothes. Kaylee had paint under her right eye, on both hands, and all over her clothes.

(My creative wife started painting the girls' room a few months ago. It's an elaborate concept of Noah's Ark, with animals all around. For a number of reasons, there hasn't been much progress on the room lately. My guess is that Kaylee and Elisha decided to help Mommy out.)

There is green paint in the carpet of their room. There are little green footprints leaving the room and entering the hall. There are little green handprints in a number of places, from their room to the hall to the bathroom. Daddy's not good at giving baths, and neither Kaylee nor Elisha was excited at the prospect of a daytime bath without Mommy. Normally, they both love bath time. Not today.

After the bath, Daddy needed a break and declared it "nap time." Elisha shook her head vigorously and kept saying "no." Kaylee informed me that Elisha wasn't tired, so nobody needed a nap. More often than not, I know better than to argue or debate with a 2 year old. Not today. Well, within 10 minutes, Elisha was sleeping soundly, so I took her to her bed. Kaylee wasn't where I left her, so I called out for her. She was under my bed. She said she'd take a nap IF she could sleep under the bed. Any good daddy knows that request was out of the question. I told her people don't sleep under beds and that she needed to lay down on my bed and get ready for a nap. Reluctantly, she crawled out and climbed up onto the bed.

The conversation went something like this. Kaylee: "I need sleep under my bed." Daddy: "No Kaylee. We sleep on beds, not under them." Kaylee: "Daddy, I need to." Daddy: "Why do you need to?" Kaylee: "Because I need to." Daddy: "But why do you need to?" Kaylee: "I need to." Daddy: "Why?" Kaylee: "I love you, Daddy." Daddy: "I love you too, but that's not answering my question." Kaylee: "I need sleep under my bed." There were some tears mixed in (hers, not mine), but this repeated for at least 10 minutes.

Knowing her stubbornness (although I have NO idea where it could come from), I told her she could sleep on the floor with her feet under her bed. So, I spread her blanket on the floor. She said "Thank you, Daddy" and laid down and was asleep within 30 seconds.

Feeling rather stupid and defeated, I started scrubbing the carpet in the hall to erase the footprints.

I can't wait for Christy to get home and do her mommy-thing so easily.

Lesson 8,944: don't argue with a 2 year old. (evidently, I haven't learned this one yet and am forced to repeat it over and over.)
Lesson 47,641: nothing is outside the reach of a determined 2 year old, no matter how little she is and how far "up" something has been placed.

More funeral thoughts

Attending a recent funeral made me think of my uncle’s funeral nearly 2 years ago.

Ricky was, for lack of a better term, a rounder. From dictionary.com, a rounder is described as: “a dissolute person, usually a man who is morally unrestrained.” Yeah, that was my uncle. He lived his life for him. He didn’t love anyone or anything more than himself, except possibly, cocaine. His pall-bearers wore NASCAR shirts. I may have been the only person, other than the funeral directors, who wore a tie. They played some odd songs, ending with one about “I’m the last rebel; I'm a loner; Nobody loves or understands me” or something to that effect. It was surreal that even in death, he tried to play the victim role. He wanted sympathy and attention, even in the plans he laid out for his own funeral.

I hadn’t talked to him for a number of years before he killed himself. Ricky did call a family member on Easter Sunday a year before he died. He told the family member that he was in the final stage of cancer and was about to die. By all accounts, that was a lie. My guess is, based on his history, that it was a ploy to get sympathy or money. A long-time friend of his found what ultimately was his suicide note, his goodbye to the world. Tim loved Ricky like a brother, despite all the mess he had to go through to remain friends. Tim told me about the note...and that while it didn't expressly say he was going to kill himself, it eluded to that fact. It wasn’t a traditional suicide…no overdose or gunshot. He drove into an 18-wheeler at a high rate of speed, probably drunk or high, and got decapitated. That ended a life full of opportunities missed.

At his “visitation” and funeral, I saw some family members I’d not seen since my grandmother’s funeral in ’97. Attending were a great aunt (the “matriarch” of the family), a great uncle (the spitting image of my grandfather), and a host of 2nd cousins and their spouses. There were a number of stories being told, most I’d heard before. I found it funny how time changes a person’s memory though. Some of the stories being told, I’d actually witnessed. Other stories, I’d heard from my mom, my grandmother, or Ricky himself.

My great aunt, sister to my grandfather, was telling versions of stories I’d never heard before. Oh, I’d heard the stories…just not her version of them. She told everyone how my grandmother “never wanted Ricky.” I, of course, hold a different view of reality. My grandmother had a difficult pregnancy with my mother. Difficult pregnancies in 1950 weren’t anything to take lightly. My grandmother was not excited when she found out she was pregnant again 3 years later. That, all these years later, turned into her not wanting him.

My aunt also said Ricky was mistreated, abused, and never loved. This could not be further from the truth. Ricky was a problem from the time he was very young. His wild nature could not be controlled, no matter what my grandparents tried. He stayed in trouble all throughout his childhood. I suppose my grandparents’ inability to control him fueled the “mistreated” view. As far as abuse is concerned, I heard the story she referred to from my mom, my grandmother, and Ricky himself. When he was 14 or 15, he took a loaded gun to school because he was being picked on. We’re talking about 1967 or ’68. He got caught and was promptly expelled. When my grandfather got home from work, he got the full story and went to confront Ricky, and to find out why it happened. Ricky got defensive and, during the confrontation, hit my grandfather. My grandfather told him that if he tried that again, he’d better be man enough to deal with the consequences. Ricky took another swing and my grandfather “beat the stew out of him” (my grandmother’s words). That was the only time he was ever “abused.”

As far as love goes, I cannot begin to list the ways our family tried to show him love. I can’t count the times my grandmother paid for him to go to rehab. I can’t remember the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th “chances” he got from me alone…much less everyone else. In my grandmother’s will, money was set aside for the express purpose of paying for his funeral. She was wise enough to know that he’d die alone and penniless. She bought him a plot in the cemetery, a casket, and paid for it all. Had he been unloved, she wouldn’t have had the forethought to do that for him. I wanted to ask my aunt whom she thought was paying for that funeral and set her straight, but I kept my mouth shut.

My aunt told a story of my grandmother’s “refusal” to buy him a plane ticket home from California when my mom died. The truth is that she DID buy him a plane ticket. As a matter of fact, I drove her to the travel agency to purchase it. He turned it in for cash and bought drugs with the money. I think he showed us how much he loved my mom with his actions. Again, I kept my mouth shut.

I also wanted to tell other stories…stories that could not paint Ricky as a victim. He chose his life and lived it on his terms. I wanted to remind them that he joined the Navy out of high school to prevent himself from going to jail. I wanted to explain how he spent most of his time in the Navy in the Brig. I wanted to remind them of his 2 failed marriages and 3 children with whom he had no relationship. I thought they needed to know about how he bragged about his $1000 per day cocaine habit in the early 80’s. I wanted to explain to everyone that after he roughed-up my great-grandmother for drug money in the summer of 1991, I went looking for him. If I’d found him that day, we’d have had his funeral many years earlier and I’d have been in jail. I wanted to tell them about his moving back home to “take care of” my grandmother when she was sick with cancer. He hadn’t been back 24 hours when he started taking things out of the house and pawning them or selling them outright for drug money. I wanted them to know that after the settling of my grandmother’s estate, that he sold her car before the ink was dry on his signing the title. He bought cocaine with the money. He was not shy about admitting when he used drugs, and told me regularly. There are many other stories I could have told. Wisely, I kept my mouth shut.

So, what is my point? Am I just bashing my uncle? That is not my intent. I loved Ricky. Until I was old enough to realize what he really was, there was nobody I’d rather have spent time with. This is just my therapy. It’s my way to get things out. My grandparents were good people. They were far from perfect, but they did their best with Ricky. He chose his life. He chose rebellion. He chose self-destruction. There was nothing my grandparents could have done to prevent it. My grandmother prayed for him multiple times every day until she died. He was constantly exposed to the truth. He chose to live in hell when he was alive. A lot of people who loved him were singed by his flames. I hope that somewhere in his life, he got things right with God. I hope that the hell he lived on earth was not a fore-taste of his eternity.

Mother's day thoughts

Today is Mother’s Day. Today, like every other day, I’m thinking about my mom.

She died after a 2 year battle with cancer in 1995. Mom was a sweet lady. She was one of the most human people I ever met. In the last couple of years of her life, she lost her pretense. She realized that so much of her life was wasted on trying to live up to expectations she put on herself. She’d also tended to project other people’s expectations onto her life. Weakness and faults weren’t “supposed” to be shown in the life of a Christian. You had to play the game, and play it well, in order to impress others and maintain status in the church. In those last couple of years, she allowed her insecurities to show. She was self-conscious about her weight. She worried that she was insignificant to those she loved. The week before she died, she told me her greatest fear was that she’d be forgotten after she was gone. She told me how much she regretted that she’d miss meeting my wife, seeing me get married, and getting to hold her grand children. I cannot go a day without looking at my daughters and hating the fact that they’ll never know Grandma Ginger. I can tell them stories, but that’s 2nd hand knowledge. It’s not good enough for me. Sometimes, I get frustrated about it. I still don’t understand why God had to take her at only 45. It doesn’t seem fair to me, but I am projecting my limited view of fairness onto God…and that’s just wrong. He knows what He is doing, always. I have to trust in that.

I miss my mom. I still, nearly 13 years after her death, cry for her from time to time. Ok, so maybe I cry for me missing her. I think about my girls not having her love showered on them. I think about my nieces and nephew never knowing her and it makes me sad. I think of how my sisters have had to grow into womanhood with out her influence, since they were 18 and 15 when she died.

These last 13 years have been long without Mom being around. Every day, I look forward to seeing her again in Heaven.

A few years ago, John Tesh cut a song with Dalia singing lead called “Mother, I Miss You.” The chorus expresses how I feel more eloquently than I could begin to say it.

“Mother I miss you. Nights I just wish you were here with me so we can laugh and talk again. Mother I miss you, but I’ll just kiss you and send it on the wind. ‘Cause you know I plan to see you again.”

Also, it was on Mother's day 2 years ago that we brought Kaylee home from her stint in the NICU. She was so tiny.

This week

I went to a funeral earlier this week. The wife of a friend/co-worker was killed in a car accident. She was only 39 with 2 teen-age children and 1 grandchild. The tragedy of the situation of someone dying so young was tremendous. My friend truly married his best friend and he is beyond distraught. Just seeing the physical toll on him was heartbreaking, the emotional scars not-withstanding.

They live in a small town; a close-knit community. There were many family members at the funeral, along with a good number of friends and acquaintances. I believe my friend will ultimately be ok because his family and friends have truly rallied around him. They will give him the support he needs. They will encourage him. They will also kick him in the rear when he needs it.

They played a number of country songs, including “This One’s For the Girls” and “I Hope You Dance.” One of her sisters came up and read the obituary straight out of the newspaper. Then, the minister stepped to the podium. He explained that he was from a Baptist church in the small town where she grew up. He mentioned that he hadn’t seen her in nearly 20 years, but he remembered her as a “vibrant child and teen, very full of life.” He then went on to talk about the person she’d become (from her sisters’ descriptions); how she tried to encourage people to take advantage of the moment, and how she wanted people to get the most out of life. He didn’t say much about her beyond that, but he didn’t really know her. I mean, at her own funeral, the person who said the most, didn’t even know her. He couldn’t reflect on personal memories to even give people a good word-picture of whom she really was. I’d never met my friend’s wife, and even at her funeral, I could not learn anything substantial about her. That made me sad. I know, of course, some things I’d picked up from my friend, but even those things weren’t really of any substance. After nearly 40 years of life, nobody stood to say anything on her behalf. The preacher did his best to encourage the family to band together and take care of each other. He read from the “standard” funeral Biblical passages (John 14:1-3 & Ecclesiastes 3:1-8). He talked briefly about God’s love, His comfort, and how He will never leave or forsake us. It was an impossible position for him: to eulogize someone with whom he had no relationship. I felt bad for the preacher…but that’s not the point, and I digress, as I am prone to do.

In reality, I wasn’t there for her. I was there to support my friend. I was there out of respect for his pain and heartache. I wasn’t there because she meant anything to me personally. Again, I’d never met her.

In my 35 years, I’ve been to a lot of funerals. Most were somber affairs, while others included wailing and screaming. A couple of them were truly “going home” celebrations where God’s presence was tangible; where hearts and lives were changed.

The funeral of my friend’s wife was one of the saddest I’ve attended. It begged the question in me: “What are people going to say at your funeral?” That led to another question: “What do you want people to remember about your funeral?”

The 2nd question is a little more difficult. It comes from the fact that years from now, I doubt I’ll remember much about my friend’s wife’s funeral other than the music, the fact that nobody from her family stood up and said anything about her, and the overwhelming sense of hopelessness in that small funeral home chapel. When the last song played for your memory is “Free Bird”, what does that really say?

This is not a cultural issue. It is not an issue of education or ignorance. I think it is totally about a spiritual vacuum. I am not trying to judge a dead woman’s life…because I never met her. I have nothing but a funeral to use for a basis for judgment, and that is not fair. It’s not a spiritual indictment of her, my friend, or their family and friends.

Ultimately, it made me more sad and amplified the tragedy of the entire situation.

Clarification on "Boxes"

Based on some questions I've received, I need to make sure that nobody believes I am advocating the "Emergent Church" movement.

The Emergent movement is, in my opinion, nothing more than political correctness gone mad INSIDE the church. For a basic understanding of the Emergent movement, in essense they say that as the world (& culture) has changed, the church should change (or emerge) to meet the world. While this may sound like a good thing, we must make ourselves aware of what that really means in the context of the Emergent movement.

In a post-modern world (Post-modernism can be thought of as a dissolution of "cold, hard fact" in favor of "warm, fuzzy subjectivity."), the norm is compromise for the purpose of ecumenism (unity among people coming from different religious and ethnic backgrounds and diversity in the expression of corporate worship). Unity sounds like a great thing. I mean, nobody (especially Christians) should be fighting with each other. Unity, at the peril of the Truth, is NOT of God. We are called to be "set apart" from the world, not compromise for the sake of getting along and not rocking the boat. If we are strangers and aliens, why would we want to blend in?

Emerging churches are teaching "experience over reason, subjectivity over objectivity, spirituality over religion, images over words, outward over inward, feelings over truth." Since experience is more valuable than reason, Truth has become relative. Because feelings are more important than truth, everything biblical is subjective. There can be NO absolutes any more. This is a result of our PC world, where we cannot offend anyone...especially with Truth. Emergent thought is not of God because He is absolutely Holy. He hasn't changed. He is no different today than when He said "I AM."

In "Boxes", my point is that we (the church) have become a country club and a place of exclusivity. We love our traditions; our legacy. We are comfortable and complacent. We like our status, both in the community and in the church. Folks, the people we see every Sunday are NOT the people we're supposed to be reaching with the Gospel. We should be ministering to each other inside the church while reaching out to those on the "fringes of society," because they are the ones who are being left out.

Jesus died for people with tattoos. Jesus died for people with piercings. He died for the poor and destitute. He died for people who don't look like you. He died for people who DO look like you.

Jesus sacrificed Himself. He gave up His rightful place at the right hand of God, to take upon Himself the penalty for the sins of everyone who has ever lived or ever will live. He paid MY price. He paid YOURS.

Jesus paid Hitler's price, too. He paid for Osama bin Ladin. He paid for Jeffery Dahmer.

The difference between Hitler, bin Ladin, Dahmer, and myself is that I have accepted the FREE GIFT of salvation. I humbly accept Jesus' payment on my behalf. My debt has been paid. I know that I don't deserve it, and but for the Grace of God, I could be another Hitler, bin Ladin, or Dahmer. I am well aware of the depth of my own depravity. This is the Truth that is compromised in the Emergent movement. This Truth must not be compromised.

If we, the church, were consistently more aware of the Truth, there would be no reason to focus on differences between denominations. We would be able to see the only difference that matters: our salvation versus the lost condition of the world around us. If I am as grateful as I should be, then my greatest desire should be to share, with as many as possible, the FREEDOM I have been given through the Cross.

Worship

have you ever thought about worship and why sometimes it's better than others?

worship, in and of itself, comes natural to us. we worship many things on a daily basis. perhaps it's a job. it could be a football team. maybe it's ourselves or someone we love. regardless, most of us are worshiping someone or something on a regular basis. the first step of any 12-step program is acknowledgment of sin. this is a gut-wrenching process of breaking. for most of us, we acknowledge our sin daily. for others, it's not quite as often that we think about it. ultimately, the first step of worship is seeing ourselves for what we are...completely unworthy of anything good from the Father.

ah, but here's the good part...step 2 (acknowledging God). this is where worship becomes real. when we come to a point where we can see God for who He is...the Holiness, the Love, the Glory, and everything else...that's when we can individually, and as a group, enter boldly into His throne-room and sit at His feet. seeing God as He is helps put ourselves in the proper place. there can be no pretense in His presence. pride cannot exist there. control disappears. when we see God in His true relation to us, we have no choice but to worship Him with absolute abandon. my favorite hymn is "It Is Well With My Soul." i sing it all the time...and to me, it's not a sad song. i can worship to that song like no other...especially the 3rd verse. "My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought! My sin, not in part, but in whole is nailed to the cross and i bear it no more! Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord, oh my soul!"

those of you who know me well understand i'm not a "pew jumper." my actions during worship usually appear reserved. it's my nature to be reserved in appearance. that is not indicative of what's going on inside. i encourage each of you to think about these things and when you find yourself in a place of worship, throw yourself into it with absolute abandon. think about what God's done for you in-light (and in spite) of your own depravity. you'll find the worship is sweeter.

just in case you're wondering...the 12 steps are:

1) I admit that I am powerless over things I believe I should control, and my life has become unmanageable.
2) I believe there is a Power greater than myself and that He can restore me to sanity.
3) I make a decision to turn over my will and my life to the care of God.
4) I make a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself.
5) I admit to God, to myself, and to others the exact nature of my wrongs.
6) I am entirely ready for God to remove all these deficits of character.
7) I humbly ask God to remove my shortcomings.
8) I make a list of all those I have harmed, and become willing to make amends to them all.
9) I make direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
10) I continue to make moral inventories and promptly admit when I am wrong.
11) I seek through prayer to improve my relationship with God, praying for knowledge of His will and power to carry this out.
12) Having had a spiritual awakening as a result of these steps, I will carry this message to others and practice these principles in all life's affairs.

What is scripture?

over the last few weeks, some things have come up through conversations. they have made themselves more and more evident as i've had more conversations about them. i know this could be a dangerous subject and i'm trying not to be a heretic.

the first thing is scripture. what is it, really? my definition is: the word of God, period. so, is ALL of the Bible (as we know it) God-breathed? the easy answer is "yes." i'm not sure if the easy answer is the right one though. i mean, our definition of scripture is different from Paul's. when he said "All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness"...surely he wasn't referring to his letters to Corinth, Philippi, Ephesus, Colossae, et al. Paul was writing letters to his friends, his disciples, his "children in the faith." Do you think when Paul authored a letter to Timothy, it occurred to him that we'd be reading his words nearly 2000 years later? i doubt that. Paul's letters were not designed to become scripture when he wrote them...or were they? in the Bible, when scripture is quoted or paraphrased, it's always Old Testament stuff. when scripture is referred to in the New Testament, it's not Peter talking about something Luke said...it's not John referring to James. did Peter quote Paul's letters when he was preaching? if the Bible, as we know it today (66 books), IS all scripture, why is that so? what about "lost" gospels, epistles, and historical texts that were once considered scriptural? (that is NOT including the so-called gospels that are in direct contradiction to the rest of the Bible) take the book of Enoch, for example. Jude (14-15) quotes it. Enoch was widely accepted in Jesus' time, but in the 300's AD, it was rejected...except by the Coptics. why do Catholics accept the Apocrypha, but we protestants largely ignore those books?

there are a number of references in Paul's letters that indicate a good deal of epistles that we do not have now. a first letter to Corinth (1Cor 5:9), a 3rd epistle to Corinth (2 Cor 2:4 & 7:8-9), an early epistle to Ephesus (Eph 3:3-4), & an epistle to Leodicea (Col 4:16) are all mentioned, but why aren't they in the canon? ....and that's just the Pauline writings.

there is an impressive list of non-canonical books that are quoted, or referred to, in both Old & New Testaments. ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Non-canonical_books_referenced_in_the_Bible ) if those books were important enough to be widely read & accepted at one point, why were they later rejected?

frankly, it comes down to a matter of faith to me. if i believe God is who He says He is, then He is powerful enough to provide me with a means to know Him and His words.

are those 66 books a complete collection of scripture? probably not, in my opinion.
are those 66 books a sufficient means to have a servicible knowledge and understanding of God? yes.

Genesis chapter 2 questions

1. What is sin? (my definition is: anything that is direct contrast, or direct opposition to the nature of the holiness of God.)

2. Who sinned first, Adam or Eve? (Eve ate first...but was the first sin the lie/misquotation of God's command not to eat of the tree? she said that God had said not to eat of it OR even touch it. was Adam at fault in that God made the command to Adam before Eve was created thereby making him responsible for Eve's understanding of the command?)

3. Was Eve's misquotation of God's command the first example of legalism? (adding our thoughts to the Word of God, as if it is not sufficient to stand on it's own.)

4. Was sin possible before they ate of the tree of the knowlege of good and evil? (my answer: ignorance is no excuse. God's law is God's law. whether we understand it or not, sin is sin.)

5. What is the Law? (the reason for this question comes from the life of Cain. we know Cain was married. did he marry his sister? if so, was the Law not in effect until Moses wrote it down? if the law helps us define and determine those things that are "in direct contrast, or direct opposition to the nature of the holiness of God," was incest permitted in the case of Cain & Seth (along with their other brothers and sisters) despite the fact that Leviticus prohibits it? the same question arises later in the life of Noah's sons' offspring. if it was permitted at one point, then prohibited later, i don't see consistency. is there such thing as "necessary evil?")

6. Where was Adam created? (2:15 says God took the man and put him in the Garden)

7. How long did it take Adam to name "every beast of the field and every bird of the sky?" (just think of the magnitude of that task!) my contention is that time still had very little meaning to Adam. he didn't see time in "months" or "years" because he only knew the concept of a 7-day week. based on this contention, there is no way to know how long Adam was alone, nor how long Adam and Eve were in the Garden together before the "fall."

8. Did the days of Adam (930 years) start at his creation, or at the time of banishment from the Garden? years had no meaning until it became the countdown to Adam's death.

9. Why wasn't Eve scared when the serpent spoke to her? If a cow spoke to you, how would you react? I know that I'd run away while questioning my sanity.

9. Who twisted God's command concerning the tree, Eve or Adam? (God said "don't eat it or you will die." Eve told the serpent God said "don't eat it or touch it or you will die.") I can't help wondering if Eve accurately quoted Adam's version of God's command, or if she embellished it herself. So, was the first sin eating the fruit or telling a lie?

Notice Eve's curse (3:16). virtually every translation I've looked at uses the same language.
"I will greatly multiply Your pain in childbirth, In pain you will bring forth children..."(NASB)
"I will greatly increase your pains in childbearing; with pain you will give birth to children..."(NIV)
"I'll multiply your pains in childbirth; you'll give birth to your babies in pain..."(Message)
"I will sharpen the pain of your pregnancy, and in pain you will give birth..."(New Living)
"I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children..."(English Standard)
"I will greatly increase thy travail and thy pregnancy; with pain thou shalt bear children..."(Darby)
"I will make your pain much worse in giving birth. You will give birth to children in pain..."(New Life)
my point is a bit of a stretch, but with words like "multiply, increase, sharpen" it begs the question in me, "increased pain compared to what? multiplied pain compared to what?" i think this could be a hint that Eve had had children (Cain and Abel) before the fall.