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.