God and Football

I have mixed feelings today. My alma mater’s football team, the University of Oregon Ducks, won its third consecutive conference title last night. This is quite exciting for a life-long Duck fan.  You see, my Dad took one degree from Oregon in 1958 and a second one in 1960.  I was born in 1962 and so was raised on all things Duck.  Plus, I graduated from Oregon in 1984.  So rooting for the Ducks has just been weaved into the fabric of my life, so much so that I find myself yelling or cheering at the TV.

But the mixed feelings come to play as I compare being a sports fan with being a Christ-follower.  Do I get as excited about the things of God as I do about the Ducks being in the top 10 and going to a Rose Bowl?  What happens if the Ducks lose (so far, that’s their modus operandi in big bowl games)? There’s a very great danger in being an ardent fan if your outlook of life is shaded by whether your team wins or loses. Thankfully, I figured this out years ago; if the Ducks lose, my day doesn’t come to a crashing halt. 

Still, is my life as obvious for Christ as it is for being a Duck fan? I realize team colors and logos make for easy display. In fact, since Oregon has won so much lately, I’m surprised by how many people are all of the sudden Duck fans?  Where were they in the 70’s and 80’s when the Ducks could hardly score a touchdown? (Boy, Autzen stadium was sure empty in those days, now you can hardly get a ticket!) This tells me being a sports fan is often fickle, root for the team when they’re winning, but when they start to lose, well, just switch allegiances; but what about the Christ-follower?  Oh sure, it’s easy to proclaim Christ when life is all bright and shiny, but when the dark clouds roll in, do allegiances change?

True sports fans and genuine Christ-followers have in common sticking with their allegiance regardless of what is happening.  But I return to my first question.  Does my life reflect my allegiance to Christ as much or more than it does being a Duck fan?

“But seek first the kingdom of God…” (Jesus, Matthew 6:33a, emphasis mine).

“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven” (Jesus, Matthew 5:16, emphasis mine). 

Thanksgiving Re-set

…for I am not always thankful even though I have so much to be thankful for.   How about you?  Does thankfulness just roll out of your pores like sweat at mile 20 of a marathon or do you struggle with it like when your mother made you eat beets? 

Honestly, as silly as it sounds, I sometimes struggle with it.  The big question is why?  The answer, of course, is quite complicated; but simply put, I have been fooled by the lure of the so-called American Dream—more stuff means a better status which means more joy.  Poppycock; what nonsense to think that inanimate stuff (which really means “junk”) will bring true and lasting joy. 

First John 1:3b-4 has this to say about joy: 

And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. We write this to make our joy complete.

True joy, which is a sense of unflappable inner happiness, comes from an honest and vital relationship with God by way of Jesus Christ.  No Christ, no joy. Expressing this relationship to others cements the joy deep in our soul. 

So as Thanksgiving 2011 is now in our rearview mirror, we can still be thankful because of Jesus Christ.  I know a bold statement like this turns a lot of people off, that’s why the message of Christ is so watered down.  But stop and think about it, why are so many people turned off by the things of Christ? People are often turned off to Christ, and thus miss the joy in Christ, because so many Christ-followers do a less than inspiring job of exhibiting Christ.  So much of “Christian engagement” nowadays is really nothing more than stooping to joyless and combative blame-shifting. 

But as we recall the words of Jesus, we begin to realize His message was quite different:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.  This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it:  Love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:37-38).

Pondering these words deeply, I find conviction creeping up over my heart.  I begin realizing that my “love meter” for both God and man registers too often on the “low” side. No wonder I struggle with thanksgiving, I’ve blocked God’s joy in my soul by allowing my ‘love tank’ to run too close to empty.

So where does Thanksgiving really begin?  It begins with love.  And where does love begin?  Love begins with God:

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life" (John 3:16, emphasis mine).

The Path of Fast

There’s been a lot written about fasting.  The most reliable source, of course, is the Bible.  Jesus even fasted.  In fact, He often sought to be alone in the wilderness to pray and be with His Heavenly Father.  During these times He was often fasting from sleep and sometimes food. We can even fast today. 

Recently, at a leadership conference, God placed on my heart the call to organize a group of men to gather once a quarter on a Saturday to go out into a nearby wilderness to pray and fast for a day.  Nineteen were invited, but only four of us could actually do it.  

So a few Saturdays ago, the last time ESPN College Game Day was in Eugene (guess what I fasted from?), we headed off into a beautiful wilderness area in the Willamette Valley.  Just four guys, none of us with any special accolades or major national awards, just four guys desperate for God, stomping down paths into the wilderness to seek a deeper sense of His presence in our lives. 

Not surprisingly, God showed up.  Each of us had an encounter with Him.  What’s funny is He didn’t call any us to step into some big movement or give us any massive idea for outreach.  Instead, God encouraged each of us to shed the distractions of our lives and culture to more fully pursue Him. I was specifically shown that through these several months of trials, I’d become prone to kind of “checking out.”  Just relaxing a little after dinner was my excuse, but God showed me that I was really sliding into neutral, disengaging from life and family, shutting down my mind and heart.  Perhaps I felt I just couldn’t take any more so my protection was to just withdraw for a while.  Have you ever felt that way?  What do you do?  Do you need to shed a little clutter out of your life too?

God reiterated on my journey down that Path of Fast to keep shedding the distractions of life.  He encouraged me to have the courage to continue the inventory of my life that started in the ER after my accident. Clear out the clutter and lighten the load of the useless stuff and junk in my life was the encapsulation of His message to me. 

Accomplishing this isn’t some mystical ceremony with flickering candles and fog; instead, it’s really a phone call to Comcast to pull the plug.  It’s cleaning out my iTunes of old secular songs that crept back in. It’s ceasing the comparison of my stuff with someone else’s.  It’s cleaning out the cabinets in the house and in my mind.  It’s not caring how big my house is or how cool my car is how exotic my vacation.  Dross was weighing me down and cooling relationships with both Jesus and my family.  And on that forest path at the foot of the Coast Range God showed me now was the time to initiate the clearing out, for if not now—then when?  Without the intention to start, it would never get done.  And for me to truly give my best to God, I had to remove the cultural clutter clouding my spiritual vision. 

So the cleanup has begun.  And, yes, I’ve lost weight, quite a bit, actually.  Oh, not in pounds, but definitely weight off my shoulders and out my life.  I don’t need to compete or compare myself with anyone, I’m here to please Him, God; not my neighbor, not my colleague, not anyone—only God.  Once the clutter is clear, then the Holy Spirit can run freely in my soul, and I will be at my top spiritual condition once the barriers of clutter and of distraction are removed.

So, yes, it’s good to slow down and fast now and then regardless of how vibrant or dormant your walk with the Lord may be.  As we earnestly and intentionally seek God, He will honor that by impressing His presence deeper into our souls.

Being Prayed For by Others

Over the last few weeks a number of people have asked how I’m doing (see my previous entry, What Happened?).  Thankfully, I am able to respond that I’m fully recovered. In fact, all the tests I’ve had from a CAT scan, to an MRI to an EEG all show normal (though some of my friends may contest this). All I can say is, “Praise God!”  This is such a huge relief because the doctors were conjecturing there may be some mass (i.e., a tumor) in my brain or I had suddenly developed a seizure disorder (can that actually happen at 49?).  But God in His mercy has spared me from these; it was most likely a combination of hypoglycemia and exposure to noxious fumes.  In other words, I fainted! (What a manly thing to do in the fertilizer aisle, at least I have a nice scar to show for my manly effort!)

What’s interesting, though, is through my recovery I never really feared any test results, I wasn’t dwelling on the “what ifs” and I truly sensed the peace of Christ ruling in my heart (see Colossians 3:15).  Sure, my Bride and I prayed much during my recovery, but what’s more, many other people were praying for me as well.  And while it may sound strange to some, I actually sensed their prayers; it was like a supernatural blanket of warmth continually caressing my soul.  It reminds me of James 5:16b:

The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much.  

Also Ephesians 6:18:

Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the spirit, being watchful to this end with all perseverance and supplication for all the saints.

Prayer is so multi-faceted that I dare say we take it too much for granted.  Earnest, heart-felt prayer unleashes Holy Spirit power in ways we are hard pressed to understand.  Jesus dedicated countless hours to prayer, and He taught the Apostles to do the same.  The sheer number of references to prayer in the New Testament ought to get our attention.  And through my little fainting mishap, I learned a little more about prayer myself, but this time not as the one who prays, but instead, as the one being prayed for.  It’s hard to explain, but it’s real; like the old Newsboys song says, “It’s a Spirit thing.” 

Indeed, it is!  And it’s available to anyone who has trusted their heart to Jesus Christ.  Such a relationship is a heartbeat away, for as Paul and Silas said to the Philippian jailer in Acts 16:30-31 when he asked:

“Sirs, what must I do to be saved?”

So they said, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved.”

No other work is required; placing your trust in Christ invites the new birth of the Holy Spirit into your life and secures an eternal destiny with Jesus in Heaven. No longer will you have to fear going to Hell because Jesus Christ now holds you tightly and nothing and no one will cause Him to lose His grip on your soul (see John 10:29-30).  And just one of the countless blessings we receive from Christ, is being the recipient of prayers prayed by fervent brothers and sisters who have concern for others. 

Come, and join the family of Christ if you haven’t already. 

What Happened?

I remember last Saturday up until the time I lost consciousness.  We have yet to determine why I lost consciousness which means my life now has lots of tests in it and lots of wonder—it’s really weird to basically not remember a half a day. 

There I was at Lowe’s with my five-year-old son. We were shopping for screening material, a flag pole (to hang my Oregon Duck flag on) and fertilizer.  It was in the fertilizer isle where I collapsed.  I remember feeling woozy then I don’t remember anything until a vague recollection of riding in the back of an ambulance speeding down I-5 toward the ER.  Then I was in and out of consciousness the rest of day and night.

When I fainted, which is what I think it was (my doctor thinks I had some sort of seizure), I hit the concrete floor head first splitting my forehead open and biting through my upper lip; needless, to say, this caused quite a mess, plus I was convulsing.  My little boy saw the whole thing and immediately began yelling for someone to “help my Daddy, someone help my Daddy!”  I have no idea who helped me or what they did, all I know is someone thankfully called 9-1-1.

The times I was lucid in the ER I remember being surrounded by friends and family; I remember my dear bride holding my hand, Mike cleaning the blood off my face, fist-bumping Ben, saying ‘hi’ to Pastor Chad, seeing my Sister’s pained expression and getting poked by lots, I mean, lots, of needles.

I was and remain very grateful for their presence, deep inside I was terrified by what had happened to me. I’ve never had anything even remotely like this happen to me before nor has anyone in my family. To all of the sudden lose consciousness like that is frightening. I left the ER, very late that night, looking like a losing prize fighter:  black and blue, stitches, and stumbling. My eye and lip are healing and I get the stitches removed next Tuesday.  I’ve had blood tests, CAT scans, x-rays and an MRI. Next week I have an EEG scheduled.  I am also definitely feeling the effects of the concussion: life seems a little slower as I am not processing as fast as usual, my dreams are a very different variety than they used to be, and Janey is staying very close to my side as I haven’t been able to go back to work yet and she’s afraid to leave me alone for too long.

So what am I to learn through all this?  One thing is there are a lot of people who care about me, are offering to help me, and are praying for me.  I am not eloquent enough to express my gratefulness for these dear people, but I am so thankful that I have such caring friends and family. 

There’s one lesson right there, NEVER take your friends and family for granted.  Jesus taught about the great importance of relationships, and through this latest trial I’m really learning the truth of this. I guess I thought I understood it until I became totally helpless; there were times I could do nothing for myself and had to rely on others for everything (including my five-year-old).  And even now still I’m way more reliant on others, especially my dear bride, than I’ve ever been in all my adult life.

Another lesson, as trite as it may sound, is each moment of life is truly valuable. Oh sure, I like to think I think this, but on Saturday I lost many moments where I otherwise would have been conscious; these are moments I was present but don’t remember and can never get back.  In fact, Saturday was our date night; but rather than going out to a nice dinner, we were in the ER being reminded just how important we are to each other while I lay on that gurney helpless and terrified.   

I still get scared. I pray the tests show nothing. This would mean what happened was more a combination of low blood sugar coupled with a bunch of other environmental factors (breathing in noxious fumes, a lot of overhead work, pinched neck nerves, eating little). All of these things are treatable through lifestyle adjustment or relatively minor medical procedures (or hiring a yard service).  So I pray there are no tumors or anything like that.

In the meantime, though, I am thankful to be alive. I don’t think my life was ever truly in danger; still, memories died as I can’t recall much of that day yet I am blessed so many people, complete strangers I’ll never know and friends and family rallied around me so quickly that perhaps that’s the closest taste of Heaven I’ve ever had—genuine care and love showing up in the most dire time of need.

Thank you.     

Room With A View

So my Mom is in the hospital (this picture is the view from her room).  At some point last Tuesday, probably in the morning, my 79-year-old Mother fell down; the problem is, no one knew until Wednesday night. Thankfully, a curious housekeeper in her retirement apartment building noticed she hadn’t picked up her morning paper for two days, she told her boss and her boss checked in on her.  Mom, ever the proud Brit, shooed away help, but the boss-lady called my Sister who called me (I live about three blocks away) and I went to see her. 

It was an indelible and startling experience opening my Mom’s door to see her lying on the floor, ashen gray and helpless. I did what I could, even prayed over her and after some resistance, she agreed to let me call 9-1-1; in a matter of minutes four paramedics were there. Soon she was in the ER and with my Sister and I by her side (our Dad has long since been dead).  After many tests they discovered that she had shattered her left humorous in seven or eight pieces; I swear it looked like it could have been an Evel Knievel x-ray! She was also severely dehydrated and extremely confused as well as other things.

This whole experience is yet another reminder how precious life is and how precious our loved ones are.  Is there someone you haven’t said, “I love you” to in a while?  Is there a widow or widower sitting alone with nothing but a microwave meal and Andy Griffith reruns?  Is there reconciliation that needs to happen?  If so, then I ask is mowing the lawn or doing the dishes so all-important that you just can’t spare even a few moments to go and visit these loved ones?  I know the myriad of life’s details can be so consuming and our to-do lists so daunting, but most of those things will be there tomorrow or even next week, but your loved one may not be. 

Think about it, stuff vs. relationship.  Stuff may not talk back or ask for help, but it will demand your time and your energy; sometimes so much so that we don’t have the time or energy to do what really matters—be with those we love.

Therefore consider it okay to set aside the dishes or let the lawn go another day or two and use that time to make that phone call, send that card or email, or even go visit in-person, because tomorrow is not guaranteed, but dirty dishes and growing grass are.        

Ride the wave, man!

“Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.”

-1 Peter 5:7 (NIV)

“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything.”

-Philippians 4:6 (NLT)

Stu was our main guide and advisor on last year’s mission trip to Tacate, Mexico. He was a typically laid-back Southern California surfer dude.  He had the look with the straggly blonde hair, deep tan, and wiry physique.  Every time something went wrong he’d give us suggestions on what to do to fix the problem and then say, “Ride the wave, man.” 

What the heck does that mean? 

His usual greeting was with the “hang loose” sign and he never seemed to get shaken by anything.  As the week marched on, I heard a handful of times, “Ride the wave, man.”

Incredulous, I was always left incredulous as to what that means.  Oh I get the phrase from a surfing point of view (even though I’ve never surfed), but I’ve never understood the phrase from a biblical point of view.  Until now.

 A little over a month ago on the return trip from our second Mexico Mission Trip, we stopped at a beach in La Jolla.  Many of us ventured out into the ocean to body surf and ride boogey boards.  I’m not good at either but while flailing around in the surf and desperately trying to catch a wave, I had an epiphany of understanding about Stu’s “ride the wave” phrase. 

Waves are exterior and as they come at me I get to choose how to react to them.  My reaction is an interior choice in regard to the exterior stimuli.  I can fight the wave by resisting it only to have it bowl me over with a force that drives me under the water and into a panicked frenzy for breath.  I can stand sideways to it and let it slip past me.  If it isn’t too big I can jump over it on its way toward the shore.  If it is big enough I can actually dive through it as it breaks over my body.  Or if I time it just right and it’s the right size, I can jump on my board and ride the wave into shore where I’ll be able to stand up on the sand with no problem while the wave dissipates into a ripple and then into nothing. 

Make no mistake, the waves keep coming, but with a deeper understanding of my choices toward the waves, I can stop fearing them by choosing the right reaction to them.  So Stu was trying in his surfer-cum-philosopher way to teach us how to handle the waves of life that normally cause us to resist with worry and fear.  His encouragement was to properly assess the wave and then choose the right reaction to it.  We assess the size of the wave and the frequency of the other surrounding waves.  What is the wave’s speed and what is its depth? 

God made our brains complex enough to gather all this data quickly so as to make the proper and timely decision.  If we just stand flat-footed with mouth agape as the wave hurtles toward us we will be easily knocked over and consumed with the wave’s force.  But if we prepare ourselves spiritually and mentally, we can instead choose the correct reaction to either let the wave pass by or to ride it in a thrilling ride to the shore.

In Matthew chapter six, Jesus has several exhortations to not worry but to instead trust in God.  In Stu’s way, he was teaching us the message from Christ; and while it isn’t a biblical quote, “ride the wave, man” can still serve as a nice mental reminder that we choose how we react to life’s waves.

So, “ride the wave, man.”

Haiku for the Common Person

Sometimes the soul is satisfied by poetry.  Perhaps you’ve felt that way; if so, try these on for size. 

Moves

Sand moves on the beach,

          the tides and winds shifting now.

                   Change is in the air.

On Thinking

          Boundaries breaking;

Consciousness being stretched wide.

                             Restless with my life.

Tuesday

Sitting at my desk,

Not my final destiny.

My mind wanders far.

Catch the theme; whether this has a real name or not, I call it thematic Haiku or therapeutic thinking. 

Mexico Mission 2011 Unplugged

Wednesday afternoon about 3:45 PM we rolled into the New Harvest Church parking lot.  Our convoy of three dusty and only slightly damaged vans and one pick-up truck pulled into our final destination—home.  Well, sort of, we all still had to unpack, clean out the vehicles, and then travel to our individual homes; but the adventure was officially over as each vehicle came to a halt. 

We had 37 people ranging in age from 15 to 49 (yep, I was the senior citizen on this trip).  Once in Mexico, we split into two crews, one building a house for a family and the crew I was on built a church.  Granted, the structures we built are bare bones, nothing hugely elaborate, but considering we had four days to accomplish even bare bones construction is a strong testament to God working through those He’s called to serve in this manner.  

The pastor of the church we built is Pastor Juan, a Mexican church planter.  He’s planted churches in Tijuana and our church was his first in Rosarito, at least as near as I could figure out. While he speaks no English, he did have a bilingual friend, Carlos, on the job site to aid in translation.  Carlos had his two young, home-schooled children with him most of the time; on our last day, however, they had caught a plane bound for LA so they could visit their Mom who lives and works there.

The work itself was hard labor in a dusty environment under a very hot, unrelenting sun. We were continually encouraged by Nurse Mike (a genuine RN who wields a hammer as well as he does a first aid kit) to drink lots of water to stay hydrated.  Those who did not follow his advice, paid for it with headaches and nausea; those of us who did heed his advice were rewarded with good health and frequent bathroom breaks.

When it was all finished, Pastor Juan invited us to the first service at the new church just hours after we finished building it.  He taught from Mark 4:35-41 and Psalm 20 about persevering through any “problema” that comes our way rather than using our problems as excuses to give up or blame others.   

While Carlos adeptly translated his message, the passion of the message was unmistakable. Pastor Juan clearly communicated a genuine zeal for the Lord that any person of any culture could easily grasp.  Here’s a man sleeping on a floor, no mat or pillow from what we could see, preaching about persevering in God’s strength and goodness. A man who has planted six other churches and is enduring his own personal struggles while still bringing a message to rival any message I’ve ever heard whether in person, or via DVD or podcast.  At this little bare bones church atop a dusty Rosarito hill was a powerful demonstration of two cultures and two languages, but one God, one Scripture; the same God worshipped world-wide, the same God who has been worshipped for thousands of years. The same God Who breathed His Word for us to read, study, believe, and live. This same Word has been read for centuries and is the same Word that both Pastor Juan and I read in our morning devotionals even though we are 1,500 miles apart.

Maybe I’m making too big a deal out of this, but the further I get from that experience, the more profound it becomes.  God is real.  God is big. And, yes, God is everywhere present!  The same God is in Keizer, Oregon that is in Rosarito, Mexico. So we all endured long drives and late nights, hard work and hot weather; sleeping on floors and thin mats in smelly tents; but our minor and momentary discomfort cannot even compare to the power and grace God showed by allowing us to sit at the feet of Pastor Juan to witness God’s hand at work in an authentic multicultural way.  

But now that I’ve been home for a few days, I start asking myself a series of questions (if you have any input on these questions, please leave a comment):

·         One day in the van coming back from the work site we played the song The Stand. There’s a lyric in this song that speaks to being totally surrendered.  Am I totally surrendered?  Are you?  What does being totally surrendered look like in today’s American suburbia? Do I even know anyone who’s genuinely totally surrendered?  Can a person be totally surrendered 24/7?

·         Our Pastor Chad taught on the difference between a missional experience vs. missional living.  Do I really grasp the difference?  Am I really committed to grasping the difference?  Are you?

·         Where does my life land on the continuum of selfish living to selfless living? 

·         When is godly help rolling up my sleeves and sharing a burden and when is it allowing a person to work through their situation on their own (with God’s help, of course)?

·         What questions do you have?  How sold out are we for Jesus?  Really, how sold out are we?  I’m nowhere near where I want to be, are you?

These are just a few of the questions that have popped up in my journal over the last few days; I’m sure there’ll be more.

Mexico Mission or Bust

Tomorrow at 3:30 in the morning the New Harvest Church Youth Ministry embarks on a Short-Term Mission trip to Rosarito, Mexico. This will be the second consecutive trip for both my oldest son and I. 

Preparing for the trip this year brought some very challenging attacks, primarily against my children.  Ephesians Chapter Six speaks very clearly about spiritual warfare.  While it may be a bit spooky to speak of spiritual warfare, the evidence of such warfare throughout the world is undeniable. Yet, here a handful of vans filled with mostly young people will be demonstrating not only love, but courage; courage to stand up to the attacks to pursue the call God has placed on their hearts to go and serve. 

What a privilege to be working shoulder to shoulder with such servants.  May God bless them and the community of Rosarito.

The Great Theft

I haven’t blogged for a while because our recent trials were darkening my vision; but God is patient with me and He is lightening my soul; and showing His hand of mercy at work in the tough stuff of life.

Two things I really enjoy doing are praying and running.  I’m blessed the two can be combined.  In fact, some runs are even meditative or cathartic.  In my last three runs I was able to pray and be mentally quiet at the same time as I just focused on the path in front of me listening to my footfalls.  It was really cool, because I wasn’t looking too far down the road or listening to the cacophony of civilization around me; I was just watching for my next step and enjoying the muffled thump of each foot hitting the ground.  When each run was finished, I felt physically tired but spiritually and mentally rejuvenated and revived with a deeper sense of God’s peace and joy pulsing in my soul.  But then I got into my car to drive back to the office and that’s when it happened, that’s when the Great Theft occurred.

You see, there’s construction going on plus I was bumping up against the clock. So as traffic came to a dead stop while the clock kept ticking, my impatience came roaring through all that peace and joy to again take center stage.  By the time I got back to the office I was uptight and grumpy with nary a wisp of the hard-won peace and joy remaining in my soul.

So what happened?  Why was that peace and joy so easily stolen away from me?  Several reasons, I’m sure; but the one for the moment is gross impatience.  Nothing gets my impatience bubbling like sitting still in traffic that should be moving.  Can you relate? 

Anyway, what I’m learning, besides refining my time management skills, is to preemptively prepare my soul with even more prayer as I enter into situations where I can reasonably expect to wait.  So after such a great run, as I finish my shower, I must acknowledge that I need the help of the Holy Spirit filling those darkened areas of my soul where impatience is hiding.  I don’t know where those dark areas are, but it is painfully obvious they’re there; thus, the Holy Spirit, the Great Heart-Searcher, can seek and destroy those darkened strongholds. 

Perhaps as I discipline myself to refining this prayer practice, my runs will have even more lasting benefit than just lowering blood pressure and momentarily giving my mind a rest.  Besides, who’s likely to draw people to Christ, the impatient, grumpy ball of tension; or the calm, peace-filled ball of joy?  (This is a rhetorical question that should end with “duh!”) And what’s the sense of getting all uptight over a situation I have absolutely no control of other than the way I react to it?  It is much healthier to react to an uncontrollable situation with prayerful acceptance rather than hot-headed, gasket-blowing impatience. 

So, pray on; run on! 

Faith Simplified

A.W. Tozer stated that faith “is not a once-done act, but a continuous gaze of the heart at the Triune God.”  He also did a comparison of ‘looking’ in the Old Testament and ‘believing’ in the New Testament.  In this comparison he stated that eventually a plain man would come to understand that “‘looking’ on the Old Testament serpent [on the staff of Moses to get healing from snake bites] is identical with ‘believing’ on the New Testament Christ. That is, the looking and believing are the same thing.  And he would understand that while Israel looked with their external eyes, believing is done with the heart.  I think he would conclude that faith is the gaze of the soul upon a saving God” (The Pursuit of God, pp. 89-90). 

Tozer’s insight is tremendously helpful in gaining a deeper understanding of what faith really is.  For so many years I’ve heard people state that things didn’t work out the way I had hoped or prayed because I didn’t have enough faith.  But just what is enough faith?  Even Jesus blessed a man who admitted that he had both faith and unbelief (see Luke 9:24-25).   Jesus definitely encouraged the man and many others to grow in faith, but He never said that He would only work in the heart with zero doubt and 100% faith. 

Returning to Tozer’s work puts faith in an entirely different light.  Faith is not a commodity to gain more quantities of like the accumulation of useless stuff in our garage.  Faith is instead a state of continual affection; because that which we are most in love with is what we will think the most about and look to the most often.  We also need to remember another truism of the human soul in that we will turn to what we are most attracted to when times get rough.  Some turn to booze or drugs, some turn to their spouse, but others will turn in genuine faith and prayer to the Lord.  Of all these options, only the Lord will truly satisfy. 

Now I’m finally coming to realize, especially as I get older, that I’ve made faith entirely too complicated; an inner gaze upon the heart of Jesus is much simpler than all that striving and teeth-gritting.  It is amazing to think that an act of faith is as simple as pondering Jesus in silent contemplation.  I don’t always have to be doing something to “have faith,” I can just simply direct my thoughts up to the throne of God.  Taking each thought captive to Christ is an act of faith.  Praying about my concerns is also an act of faith.  From the Book of Psalms we find that crying out to God, whether in fear or anger, is also an act of faith. 

Having a simpler understanding of faith makes my heart even more grateful to our loving Heavenly Father.  Man has made faith a complex morass of works and proving grounds, while our Lord simply says, “Come to me all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).      

God, Lord, and Father

I was praying during one of my lunchtime runs a few weeks ago.  I often state two key words in my prayers.  Those two words are “God” and “Lord”.  As I curved up the concrete path leading to the former train trestle turned running/walking bridge over the Willamette River a different word popped into my mind, the word “Father”.  The impressiveness of the thought caused me to pay closer attention because I sensed it was a quiet whisper from God in regard to my prayer.  In fact, the thought was phrased more as a question rather than as a statement.

“Why don’t you ever refer to Me as Father?” 

While this may sound like a simple question, the answer is really quite complex.  There are many reasons why I’ve resisted referring to God as Father.  The reasons hover in areas such as my relationship with my earthly father, lack of trust in the God of the universe, and tainted experiences from my cult days (hence my book From Cult to Christ).  Maybe someday I’ll write a more detailed blog on these reasons, but right now I want to address this particular prayer on this particular run. 

Jesus referred to God as Father many times (too many times to list here, but you’ll find a complete list on pages 347-8 in Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance of the Bible).  When the disciples asked Jesus to teach them how to pray, He started with the words, “Our Father” (see Matthew 6:9 and Luke 11:2).  When Jesus was in the garden of Gethsemane, His prayers were so intense with psychological stress, that He sweat drops of blood (a condition known as hematidrosis, see p. 260 of The Case for Christ by Lee Strobel). But even in all this intensity, Jesus referred to God as Father (see Matthew 26:39, Mark 14:36, and Luke 22:42). 

So without waxing all-theological, what is the significance of this question I sensed in my prayer?  Biblically speaking, what is a father?  A father is someone who cares, someone who rescues, someone who’s a hero.  A father is compassionate and yet can appropriately discipline when necessary.  A father is there when you need him and even when you don’t.  A father loves and respects you.  A father also accepts you for who you are but won’t necessarily let you always stay the same, for a father is also a guide into maturity and adventure.  And, of course, a father has children. 

All of these attributes are true of God.  These are the attributes He was trying to get me to realize in my prayer.  Yes He is God, and yes He is Lord, but I can still come to this God of the universe as a Father, for He does love me and cares for me and my family.  He doesn’t sit idly by but is an active participant in my life; at least He is if I let Him. 

So now when I pray, I approach Him as my loving Father Who is extending His arms to embrace me in a big ol’ bear hug rather than approaching Him as a distant God on a distant throne with minimal care for my life.  He is God and Lord, but He is also Father, which means I can follow Jesus’ example and pray, “My Father,” and I can know that He hears me.      

Resurrection Sunday

Bright light, empty tomb,

                Conquering death He rises;

                                      Savior, Lord of all!

"if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved"  (Romans 10:9, ESV).

Triumphal Entry: A Personal Reflection

As Jesus entered Jerusalem on a colt, His disciples celebrated with great rejoicing.  They even laid their own coats or cut down palm branches to line the path the colt was taking into town.  The air was electric as the people rejoiced and praised God “for all the mighty works they had seen” (Luke 19:37 ESV). And yet only a few short days later they were reviling Him and calling for His crucifixion. 

The fickleness of the human heart seems to sometimes verge on the insane, one day there is great celebration for a man’s life but a few short days later the same celebrants are now calling for his execution.  There is much psychological and theological fodder in just this one record, but I’m concerned for how my own heart exhibits the same fickleness. 

Today my take-away from this record is a stark reminder of how I had once celebrated the entry of Jesus into my heart and life; but now, many years later I have to confess that over time that joy has been tarnished, if not completely supplanted, by the cares and concerns of this life.  As the psalmist wrote, I also lament, “Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, and uphold me by Your generous Spirit” (Psalm 51:12 NKJV). 

I must continue reminding myself of the great works God has already wrought in my life. Even though bills increase while my pay decreases, God is still sovereign.  Even though my children cause worry I’ve never encountered before, God is the Father of all of us and will not leave nor forsake us.  While my finite perspective is indeed limited and often frustrated, God’s perspective is vaster than the human mind can begin to comprehend. 

So on this Palm Sunday 2011, my reflection and prayer is to have joy restored in my soul because that’s what I see as lacking in our culture and in my life.  We have more luxuries than at any other time in our history, yet life seems joyless and gray.  But the joy that comes from God will renew our vigor for living and will draw people to Jesus as the one antidote to the very prevalent fear and worry permeating our culture. 

May the triumphal entry of Jesus into our hearts and lives grow day by day. 

A New Year's Resuolution Revisited

About a week ago I was thumbing through my journal and stumbled upon this entry from December 31, 2010: “What will be my resolution this year?  Most likely to not let other’s moods, demeanors or treatment of me affect my mood or my outlook on life.”  I must confess disappointedly, I have blown this resolution to smithereens on several occasions since January 1, 2011. 

Morose and sullen personalities often rub me the wrong way and I react by becoming morose or sullen myself.  But how can I shine as a light when I so easily allow my light to be doused by the extinguishing blackness of others?  It is in that blackness that the light most needs to shine.   The light of Christ emanating out of a person’s life pierces through the suffocating darkness of another person’s soul.  It is this light that dawns into an otherwise perpetual night in many a heart. 

People that are surly or unruly with me often cause me to draw away so as to shelter myself from the abuse. Given that it’s not a physical abuse, should I still draw myself away from them?  With the light of Christ discussed above also comes a warmth that can chase the chill of darkness away from the surly and unruly.  But if that light is purposely withdrawn, not by the Lord, but by the Christ-follower, then how are the surly and unruly to ever experience the grace of God?    It may very well be this grace that provides the warmth needed to melt the cold heart of stone to reveal the vulnerable and fearful flesh underneath. 

And yet, of course, there are those with the hearts of stone that are so stubborn that it may take several light-carrying Christ-followers invading this person’s life to finally chip enough stone away from their heart to open it up to God’s grace.

Endurance, though, is the challenge.  What if I invest much of my life and yet see no results?  To that ever-burning lament, I would remind the suffering Christian warrior of Philippians 2:14-16: 

Do all things without grumbling or questioning that you may be blameless in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the Word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run in vain or labor in vain.  (ESV)

So take heart, dear sojourner, you are not alone, many of us are desperately trying to chip away at stoney hearts and coming away with more bruising than chips on the floor (think about that, it’ll come to you).  But God will eventually prevail, even in all our frustrations, to reveal Himself to the heart of stone that still has a spark for the Truth.    

Cultural Engagement and Loving Our Neighbor

“I can’t go to church,” he said to me.

“Why not,” I ask.

“Because I wouldn’t be accepted.”

“What do you mean?”

“If people found out that I’m……..”

Have you ever had this conversation?  If so, then feel free to fill in the blank.  If it helps, cast the last sentence thusly, “If people found out that I’ve….”

I think many people are interested in Jesus but are turned off by Christians.  There is significant data from Barna and others suggesting that Christians are seen as judgmental and hostile to those things that aren’t Christian.  For instance, there may be a person in our sphere of influence that is interested in our faith but is afraid to approach such a conversation because they know their lifestyle or their view on the sanctity of life is different than mine, seeing as I’m a Christian and all.  So they shy away from all things Christ so as not to either spark my ire or endure another berating of how wrong I think they are. 

While the stigma against Christians is often over-reported, there is still ample data we should take heed to.  Is our hostility toward those who hold a different worldview winning many lives to Christ?  Are we winning the eternal battle for people’s souls by being belligerent?

Throughout the history of the church, popular culture has waged war against Christianity; so recent onslaughts by various special-interest groups ought not to surprise us too much.  Yes, there are certain groups pressuring Apple to remove certain applications from their iStore, and yes there are court battles to remove crosses from public places, and yes, the sanctity of life is being fought out in many state houses nationwide.  These are stark reminders that we live in a fallen world, a world that increasingly calls what is bad, good; and what is good, bad.  But what’s important for Christians is how we respond to this.

I’m not saying we don’t state our points and properly fight for what is right, but perhaps it isn’t the fight that is as important as how we fight.  And perhaps “fight” is the wrong word; perhaps the better word is “engage.”  How do we lovingly, yet firmly, engage a culture that we know is continuing to slip into moral oblivion? 

Jesus clearly taught that we should first love God, and then we should love our neighbor as ourselves.  In light of this, I suggest that being overly concerned about engaging our culture has overshadowed our need to love God with all our heart.  If we genuinely seek God with all our heart, then we will be more receptive to what the Holy Spirit is directing us to do and to say.  As we love our neighbor as ourselves, then more people will turn to the Lord regardless if crosses stay up on hills or get torn down. 

Personal Prayer

“Lord, may my joy be full,

may my peace be deep,

may my love be real,

and may I walk in the personal power of the indwelling Holy Spirit.”

I pray this every day, regardless of my circumstances.  My current trials seem trivial when compared to the many other tragedies in the world today; but still, my family and I are enduring a couple of challenging trials.  But even so, I still pray the above prayer. And there are pertinent Scriptural references for each item:

·         Joy:  1 John 1:4 and Galatians 5:22.

·         Peace:  Philippians 4:7 and Galatians 5:22

·         Love:  1 John 4:7 & 11 and Galatians 5:22

·         Indwelling Holy Spirit:  Ephesians 6:10.

Granted, there are several other pertinent references, but I want to give a brief list for now.

I think some may consider praying the same prayer daily, or even at various times throughout the day, to be nothing but rote recitation or vain babbling. That may be so for some folks but not for me because this particular prayer reminds me that God is always with me regardless of how I feel or what my circumstances are.  What’s more, it also reminds me that only by the power of the indwelling Holy Spirit will I actually realize and then exude genuine joy, peace, and love. Without the Holy Spirit working in my life, these items will be merely surface-level veneers to be ripped away when the storms of trials assail my soul.

But when I really seek the guidance of the Holy Spirit, He is always there to comfort me. Another good point to remember is the indwelling of the Holy Spirit is available to all who believe in their heart that God raised Jesus from the dead (see Romans 10:9 for more on how to be saved).

What prayers are meaningful to you?  Feel free to post them via the comments portion of this post, perhaps your prayer will be the one that touches someone else’s soul!