...Out of obscurity

I was reading about John the Baptizer this morning, from Luke chapter 1. The last verse of the chapter struck me with two thoughts:

1. It says John grew up and become strong in spirit.

I wonder what that means? And if I were honest, I would have to admit that I am jealous. I deeply long to be strong in spirit - to know his presence and strength. There is nothing I hunger for more - the wisdom that he offers. But lately I feel like I am blundering recklessly, like a gorilla with a tea set of fine china. Nothing seems to go right, and I am afraid of making poor choices. I deeply long to be a very different person than I am - more transformed by his love, living that love with strength of spirit.

2. It says that John lived in the desert until he appeared publicly to Israel.

I thought about all that time he lived in obscurity, doing nothing noteworthy, then suddenly being launched out onto the front lines, eventually to lose his head over the whole thing (literally!). It made me notice how bad I am at living in obscurity. Since I was a young kid I wanted to impact the world deeply. Now, several decades later, I am still waiting.

It strikes me today that the words of God, as well as The Word of God, are still both very alive. And I am thankful, because there is a ton of work to be done on my heart.

Another winter

As I write, it is snowing outside - a lot. There are two severe winter storm warnings back to back coming our way. Right now there is about two inches on the ground, and the snow plows are running. It is one of those days where you feel like hunkering down with a cup of soup and an old movie.

This much snow makes me panic a little. Do we have food in the cupboards? Can my car make it home? It throws me back to being a kid, when I actually liked the heavy snow. We lived way out in the country and the nearest neighbor was over a mile away, and the nearest town 15 miles away. There were many times when we would be snowed in for several days in a row. One time the only way we could get out was via snow mobile, gliding along on top of the 10 foot drifts near our farm.

But now I find myself worrying about the snow. Somewhere between way-back-then and now, I got old. Snow isn't a reason to stay home from school or work - it is a challenge to overcome, on top of the mounting pile that life seems to be throwing my way lately. Another obstacle to life - one that overwhelms me.

I don't want to live like this. I want to thrive and enjoy the snow piles of life. But the last couple years have taught me that enjoying is a luxury that I haven't had much space to afford. It has been about survival, not enjoyment.

Where does Jesus enter into all this? That is the very question, isn't it? Because if Christmas is about anything, it is about Him entering - our world, our hearts, our burdening snow piles.

Jesus, enter this snow storm with me. Show me the way once again.

The best and worst of times

We moved truckloads of crap yesterday to the new house we are renting. It seems you never really realize how much stuff you have until you move. Before yesterday I would have said that we live pretty light and don't have that much junk. Today I am overwhelmed with the amount of stuff "living light" translates into.

We had a boatload of people show up to help, and all of them humbled me as they moved our crap from one place to another. On the way to the new house, one of our cars died, and one couple drove almost an hour back and trailered the piece of junk to the new house. It was way beyond the call of duty. Everyone's gift of time and muscle was way beyond the call of duty and friendship. How do you repay people for that kind of love?

Then there was the other side of humanity. Some new neighbor had to stop in - as we were in the middle of unloading our crap- worried about how many cars we might have that might make the neighborhood unsightly. Someone took the keys to the house, so we were left without access to the little guest cabin out back that was to become our extra bedroom. Currently the nice mattress for that room is covered in 5 inches of snow and sleet leaning against the door we have no key for. The previous tenant's stuff is in almost every room, so we can't set up anything. There was no offer to move the junk; no willingness to let us move the junk; and little empathy for our plight.

It was weird to experience total opposite treatment from the same human race. One side selfless and giving; the other thoughtless and unkind.

Yet God made us all, and somehow manages to love us, whether we are selfless and kind, or whether we are complete pigs to each other. I hope someday to be able to love with that kind of grace. But today I am stuck in frustration and finding it hard to love the lesser side of humanity.

Without a map (or a clue)

We will move most of our belongings tomorrow to a new house. Strange to think that the path has led us to this place. Or should I say away from this place? It was almost two years ago that we moved to Colorado, following what felt like the Spirit of God. Some pretty miraculous things happened for us to be able to buy this house and live in this place.

But now that chapter is ending, and as the pages turn, I really don't have a clue of what lies ahead. I know the new address, and I know the bills that are piling up in the middle of the chaos of our lives right now, but where the road leads is a mystery. And behind the curtain of the mystery, behind the "what" of what lies ahead is the eternal question of "why". Is God at work in every movement, or are we blundering on in our typical style of life? Is there a grander scheme, or are we taking another step in a meaningless staircase?

I won't pretend to know the answers. (At least that much has changed.) What I do pretend is to believe that God is still in charge, still directing, and still interested in creating in us a little bit of Himself. And it is to that end that we follow the ongoing mysterious road that lies before us.

Climbing low mountains

Another blog post way over due (thanks Carol for the reminder).

I was talking with a guy the other day whose philosophy of life is best summed up by the theme statement "climb low mountains". It reflected in his life very congruently. If he never tried to climb a mountain that was very high, he could never fail. And I found myself admiring the integrity. He really is a guy who won't try for the high mountains.

But I found the call in my heart as obviously on the other end of the spectrum. I realized that my pattern of life is probably best summed up in the philosophy "climb impossible mountains", which translates to disappointment and discouragement much of the time. I wonder if I might do better trying to summit little peaks rather than the huge ones. But when I think about it, its just not me. The very essence of who I am is a combination of dreamer and enough "ridiculous" inside (I have plenty of that) to actually try to live out the dreams.

And after 30 years of that, sometimes I wonder if I should give up. How many lower peaks could I have been successful on? Or would they have even felt like success if I had settled for the accomplishments of smaller mountains? All I know is that I am called to live what is true inside of me, and that truth inside has never spent much time on low mountains.

So I guess my new philosophy is one that sounds something like this - "Blunder on, and trust that by doing so, God is glorified because He made me a blunderer."

I deeply pray that He is reflected somewhere on the trek to the highest mountains.

Knowing scripture

I hear a lot of evangelical Christians talking about how we need to base everything on scripture. I remember holding that same value when I was a fundy too. Now that whole picture seems pretty confusing.

I find myself wanting to ask silly questions - "Which particular set of scriptures are we referring to? The KJV or the NIV or the NAS or the BS version of the Bible??" Or which interpretation of the "scriptures" are we holding to? Are we Armenian or Calvin? Are we reformation or Anabaptist? Because the real truth is that you can talk to 10 different theologians and get 12 different interpretations from 18 different schools of thought about a single verse from the Bible.

So which beliefs are we drawing from what interpretation of what scriptures?

And what ever happened to the presentness of God? Why do we rely so heavily on how God represented Himself 2000 years ago, yet ignore that He is still hanging around right now, equally as knowable?

I guess "knowing scriptures" is a hell of a lot easier than knowing God.

Waiting

I feel like I am holding my breath. We are in transition right now, poised between yesterday and where ever it is Papa is leading us. We are trying to sell the house and move an hour west, but I am struggling with the rawness of how powerless I am to make that happen.

Several years ago I would have tried to manipulate God into doing what I thought He should do by praying or fasting or getting a bunch of others to pray and fast. Because I was taught a bunch of BS about God - namely that all a guy had to do was do the right set of spiritual gymnastics and he could get God to bless whatever scheme he had to get ahead. I know now that my prayers, at best, might make me more sensitive to His plan, but He loves me enough to not do what I think should be done.

So I am left in this new space today - learning to sit with the fear and panic and distrust that comes up when I truly let go of trying to control God. But I have to be honest - I really hate this place. It is much easier to carry the belief that I just need to be more righteous - then God will listen to me and do what I say.

As I write that out, it seems ridiculous that any of us think we can control God. But I am a little ashamed with my deep desire to still want to do that. And evidence of my need for His continued work.

Affluence and influence

I was thinking today - I know, hard to believe - about people with lots of coin. We have a lot of them where we live. Rich folks come up from Texas to spend 2 weeks a year at their half million dollar second home. The rest of the year the places sit empty. To be honest it is pretty nauseating. There are many folks around here who have had to move away from the area because they can't find jobs or can't pay for a house to live in. Seems like there ought to be a way for them to find a free place to stay for 50 weeks a year, then vacate when the affluent people come in for their two weeks.

This whole topic got me thinking about the rich in our world. They have lots of affluence, but I wonder how much influence their affluence buys them. Because they aren't the same thing. I know that I will never have affluence, and honestly I would rather impact the world through my influence rather than my affluence. I want the character of my life and the integrity with which I try to live to be the impacter of the world, not the number of zeros behind any given number in my bank account.

Affluence or influence. Which one really matters when you realize you never will take a cent of it with you. Influence lasts forever, but affluence sure makes it more comfortable getting there. So are we willing to trade some discomfort now for a great forever? Or do we aim for power and prestige and lots of money to make the journey more enjoyable? Because real influence doesn't need affluence to make it happen.

Knowing Him in the going

Its been way too long since I blogged. It seems that life has been really full of trying to make huge decisions. And then we have had friends here from the flat lands. Its been busy.

We had a chance to backpack for 3 days. What a humble reminder of how old I am getting. The irony is that I am still dreaming and scheming about future trips, oblivious that I will probably do them, then wonder what the heck I was thinking.

But I am most aware lately of the sovereignty of God and the lack of control I have on my life at times. And the worst part is that I keep trying to predict and figure out where the trail of life is going. What a foolish effort! Because I will never know. And when I think I have it pegged, He'll do something unpredictable, just to remind me how really finite I am.

It is almost like Papa wants to remind me that the goal of this journey isn't to know the path ahead, but to walk it, regardless of the hurdles and confusing landmarks. The goal is to trust Him, not know where the road is going. But like many of us, I want to know, giving myself the illusion that somehow I have a little control on the direction. Even as I write that, I find it funny.

I won't ever know where I am going. But I can know Him in the going. Isn't that the very point?

The herding Spirit of God

It is funny sometimes how life herds you toward something that you don't want to face. That has been happening lately in my life. If I had a choice, I think I would run the other way. But like sheep being directed through a gate, life leads us to inevitable choices sometimes - or is that lack of choices.

I am reminded that Papa never leaves us. I know that He will never forsake. I also know that He will herd and direct us, even if we don't want to go. And as painful as that can be sometimes, it is comforting to know that He is in charge.

I suspect that the herding of the Holy Spirit will lead me to the foot of the cross - whether I like it or not, and whether I want to go there or not.

Death of a car

My brand new 1985 Honda Civic died yesterday. Today I am grieving the loss of my good friend. We had just gotten back from a 2500 mile trip to the mid west and we were both still recovering (me and the car). As I headed up the highest hill between home and my destination today, the timing belt broke. And evidently my model of Honda is a interference motor - meaning that when the timing belt goes, it ruins the engine.

I bring all this up to point out my foolishness. Not that I did anything foolish with the car, though it would have been smart to change the timing belt before it broke (doh!). But my foolishness comes when I realize I am sitting here worrying about a $400 car. It was a gift to me, but instead of appreciating the gift and the miles I got out of it, I am worrying about how I will pay for the towing and the final pronouncement of death. I am letting a car steal my present-ness, my joy, and my power.

I wonder if this journey of growth and learning will ever come to an end. As I sit with that question, I am aware of the answer - that the journey will end when the final pronouncement of my death comes - when my timing belt finally goes. And between now and then I want to get a lot better at taking back my joy, my power, and my present-ness.

Bumper sticker theology

Okay - I'm completely on a tangent today. But it seems worth sharing.

I was behind a car the other day that had a world class bumper sticker on the right, rear bumper. It said....

Wag more..........Bark less

I loved it. What a wonderful philosophy of life. Live in the happy, the good, the blessed in life. Gripe about life and the terrible things that come down the pike at you a whole bunch less. Imagine if we were to do that one simple thing.

But we won't, or we don't. We convolute the simple and complicate the obvious. We buy more and more toys or complain more and more hours of our day because life isn't going the way we think it should. We have become very adept at making things hard.

You might ask how I can say with certainty that we won't do the simple. And I would answer with this; God gave us one simple command - to love - and we can't even get close to getting that right. We are too invested in studying the Bible more or going to church more or discussing theology more to do the very simple "givens" that are already on the table. Our place mat is covered with the obvious, but we overlook it for the hidden, hoping to make the obvious disappear. And if we can get it to disappear, we might not be held accountable to do it.

We have a choice - we always have a choice. We can wag more and bark less, or we can do what we have always done and perpetuate our current level of incompetence in the Body of Christ.

.....Or we could just love.

An undeserved grace

I just got back from a really fast road trip to see my son and grandson. It was 2500 miles in 4 days. Needless to say, my butt is a little sore.

I got to meet my newborn grandson for the first time. That was pretty incredible. And my son (the grandson's father) got married. It was a whirlwind weekend.

As I reflect on the whole experience, I am humbled that I got to be a part of it. I got to hold my grandson for hours, and I got to be a part of the wedding as well. I was humbled because they included me. I didn't deserve that.

And I realize that my attitude made all the difference - knowing that I didn't deserve it. I was really aware of the subtle ways I was noticed and honored during my time there because I knew they didn't have to include me. I was moved by every act that I didn't deserve. At one point I was holding my grandson and someone else thought they should be able to hold him and sorta took my choice away to carry him in my arms. At first I wanted to argue, but then I realized that I was just privileged to know him and hold him for even a few minutes. So I handed him over. I could feel myself surrendering as I did. I knew that in less than 6 hours I would be on the road and not see him again for several months, but I let it go. It was far harder than I ever imagined it being.

I understand on a new level the grace of God. Grace is one of those things that we can take for granted sometimes- yah, God offers and we accept - but it doesn't always change us. Bonhoffer called that "cheap grace" because it didn't cause a response. After holding that baby and being included in that wedding, even though I didn't deserve either, I know new meaning to the word "grace". And I have a new appreciation for the grace God has shown me - totally undeserved and unmerited - yet freely offered. I realize that I am a lucky man.

Truly I am a lucky man....

An update

I was just reading my own blogs and realized I left you hanging. My grandson, Landon James, came home to live with mom and dad 2 days ago. Since I haven't received any panic calls from my son, I am thinking they are doing good. I drive the 2500 miles round trip next week to meet him for the first time. You could say I am looking forward to the introduction.

Thank you to everyone who has cared and prayed. And thanks especially to grampachapman for his vulnerable heart.

Now my prayer is that Landon turns out to give his dad as much grief as his father gave me...

The path of pain

Life has been taking me down some tough roads lately. I guess it might be better to say that they are vicariously tough - I seem to be walking with folks who are going through really tough times. It is a path I wish I didn't know so well.

I hate watching people I love having to endure pain. It is harder still to be the one to encourage them to not only endure that pain, but to embrace it. Because it is the vehicle of pain that changes us. It was the pain Jesus suffered on the cross that paid for our healing. Remember that Isaiah verse "By His Stripes (wounds) we are healed"? Jesus' death paid for our sin, but it was His suffering - enduring pain - that healed us. His willingness to embrace pain literally changed all of history for the rest of us.

But encouraging people to not run from their pain and embrace it instead is an unwelcome gospel. The only thing that makes the carrier of that message believable is their own embracing of pain. And there is something inside of all of us that can tell if a person really knows what they are talking about when it comes to pain. You have either been there or you haven't. And people can tell if you have.

And sadly, we need more people to be willing to go there so we can have have more people who have been there. Those "been there" folks are worth more than gold to the body of Christ. But they are few and far between. I guess our comfort has become more important than our growth.

Being a dad

It has been way too long since I have written. As I reflect on the space between my last post and this one, I notice that this is the place where I share my heart. I also notice that "heart" is one of the gifts that makes me unique. So here are some thoughts from my heart.

My first grandson was born two days ago. His father and I have always had a special bond, so we have talked lots over the last few days leading up to Landon's birth. Keagan and I used to work together, and when times got tough, he would lean my way with his concerns.

But today is hard for two reasons. Today is my birthday, and I find myself torn between celebrating another year, and my grandson being in the hospital. Landon is getting oxygen and in special care because he is having trouble breathing. His dad called early this morning scared and in pain. It hurt me so much to watch him have to face the terror of the tentativeness of life. It is a powerlessness that comes with fatherhood, one that we all have to face sooner or later in our journey. It is also one you wish you could spare your kids from. I noticed my own fear for Landon, and my inability to really offer solid hope for my son, the new father. It was one of those times I won't forget quickly.

One of the things that struck me particularly hard was that having a son of your own really brings home the love our Papa must have had for us in giving His only son. What a crazy, vulnerable, selfless, terrifying act of love toward a people who can't see past their own pain and self focusedness to receive the gift.

So what am I saying? I'm not sure if I even know. I guess I want to communicate something about the profound love of God and the tentative path that life takes sometimes, and that though we have no guarantees that things will go good, we have the guarantee that we will never be alone when it happens. If our goal is to have a Papa with us, we can count on it. If our goal is to have the rough spots go away, we are going to be left feeling pretty alone.

I am scared for Landon and his dad and his dad's dad. All of them could use your prayers today.

Walking through chaos

Life has been really busy lately. We had a trip to Tucson for 5 days, then a trip into the back country for 5 days, all the while having friends in town. It has been strange to let myself sit in the chaos and just learn from it. Not my normal style...

I find it hard to remind myself that Papa is in even the chaotic times. He never leaves us. He is right here, all the time. I have to remind myself that He doesn't leave when I feel alone or lost or chaotic. There is no way to separate from Him, even if I wanted. I belong to Him - we are one - I can trust His eternal presence.

So I am trying to walk in this new truth, this more correct understanding of His participation in my life. I am trying to challenge the thinking that says He leaves me when things are busy or chaotic. I am reminded of the times when some moron has tried to tell me that God is never chaotic, and that if I am in chaos, He isn't. Although I believe that God is never in a chaotic state, I know that He is with me when I am in a chaotic place. There is a huge difference.

God is here. God is now. And He walks with me regardless where I go. I am deeply appreciative of my Papa who doesn't vacate when my world gets scattered. He is the centering place, the sense in the middle of nonsense, the anchor in the storm.

Thank you Papa for you steadfast presence in my life.

Making things happen

I am beginning to see that there are two different kinds of people in the world. There are those that wait for things to happen in life, and there are those who make things happen in life. I am definitely the 'make things happen' kinda guy. But there are times when I find myself just waiting. I don't mean the times when God tells me to wait. I mean the times when I abdicate my call to 'make happen', and find myself just waiting for something.

Some of us are just made that way - to make things happen. But sometimes you look in the mirror and you realize that making things happen puts you at risk. You might make mistakes. You might look dumb. You might get labeled as impulsive or half assed because you take the risk rather than counting the cost.

I choose to believe that Papa made some of us the way we are, and that we can trust His natural bent within us. I will be scary - it is supposed to be. That is why they call it a walk of faith rather than a sure thing.

So being a 'make things happen' kinda guy means I need to go make things happen. It doesn't mean that I don't listen to sound counsel or hold back sometimes. It means that I can trust the way I am made because of my belief in who made me. So 'making things happen' is my unique way of glorifying God.

So Papa, at those times when I really question if I am glorifying you, may you, in your eternal grace, make sense of my life and bring glory to You. Even if it is despite me......

Pain and change

We were talking about Job today in our men's bible study, and the issue of pain and suffering came up. It struck me that we all have our fair share of it. Few are the people who haven't suffered.

But what hit me was the ways I personally try to avoid the pain in my life. I realized that I pretty successful most of the time in keeping my anxiety at bay. And in doing so, I feel more comfortable, but I miss the growing that God wants to do in me. Because it is pain that changes us. And when I avoid pain, I avoid change. How is He to grow His image in me if I am unwilling to embrace the very vehicle for transformation He allows to come my way?

I know I am not alone in this avoidance. It is a universal issue. I guess that is why we are so damned set on being comfortable all the time. That is why we surround ourselves with a hedge of safety and comfort that serves its purpose well. Maybe too well - it also keeps us insulated from the pain that can ultimately make us different people.

Unless people are willing to be transformed, we will never really live as the body of Christ.

An annointed moment

Today I was going through some old trunks where I store stuff from past lives. I have three of them. As I opened each, the smells of times gone by came wafting up from the past. It was like the years themselves came up to meet my senses, reminding me of all the time that has sifted through my fingers. I found myself wanting to cry. Not because I had wasted those years as much as I knew I hadn't fully lived some of them. I existed, just trying to get by, waiting for the future, killing time. Now I live the future as it again sifts all too quickly through my hands.

I eventually found what I was looking for. I realized as I closed the last one that the three trunks represent different lifetimes that I have lived - one from childhood, one from early adulthood, and one from life as a full fledged adult. What I had been looking for was anointing oil. I know that sounds weird, especially if you know me. The oil has always represented the presence and spirit of God to me. When I worked as a pastor, I would use the scented oil to touch on someones forehead, setting them apart for the work God had for them. The lingering scent of the oil reminded the anointed and the anointer of His eternal presence.

This weekend I will use that oil again. May the spirit of God pour His presence on all that I do, even if it is despite me.

Making splashes

I just sent my second book off for its first printing. It is funny to see how much I enjoy the process of writing - there is a deep sense of accomplishment having finished it. I never thought I would write just for fun. I guess it meets a deeper need to make a splash in the pond of life. I feel like a book does that. It leaves something behind with my name on it - literally.

So what kind of legacy will we live and leave? For some of us, that ripple in the pond will be the families we leave behind or the jobs we worked. For some it will be a thing they put their hand to and that they created or changed.

What kind of splash do you want to make? I really believe we have a choice about it - if we intentionally splash or not. Some of us will splash big, and some not so big. But I am reminded that the people who have made an impact on my life are mostly people that came and went - they might not even know the impact they had. There have been ripples on the surface of my pond long after they have come and gone. A few remain, and those I treasure deeply.

If I were to hand out some free coaching, I would simply say two words; Splash big!

A rant against Walmart

I hate Walmart. Actually I hate what Walmart stands for. Nothing against Sam Walton - he really was a great man, and I'm not sure what the company has become would honor him. What I hate is the consumerism it represents.

I can drive by our local Wally world, night or day, and find the parking lot full. What on earth are people so in need of buying that they need to fill the parking lot (not to mention the isles) all day long? Our town isn't that big!!

And my own answer to that is "frills". I know that some people shop there to get cheap essentials. Food and toilet paper and diapers are things that we really need. But what about the frills? I have a sneaking suspicion that we have simply become addicted to buying. We like the buzz of new crap.

Walmart is a little like the church - we like the buzz, whether it was the founder's intention for that to happen or not. I think Sam Walton wanted to provide a cheap way for people to be able to live, not a cheap way for America to drown in its own consumerism. And I think Jesus started the church to love the world, not provide a religious feel-good for consumer oriented Christians.

It looks to me like we have taken that God shaped hole inside and stuffed it with anything that we can cram in there. How much longer do you suppose He will tolerate that?

Forever twenty

My friend Willie came to visit over the weekend. He is my longest standing friendship - almost 28 years. We went to college together when he was 32 and I was 21. That was a dozen lifetimes ago. Willie is 60 now. Of course I am still in my twenties.....

It struck me as he left today that when you are twenty, you think you will be twenty forever, like the line up of days and months and years will continue indefinitely and you'll always get the chance to do them over if you make a mistake or decide you want to take another path.

And then you wake up one day, and you aren't twenty anymore, and you make adjustments to your expectations of life, and you re-evaluate just how old "old" is, and you decide that you'll be thirty forever instead of twenty forever. And then you turn around and it is forty that you are making "forever". And the longer you live, the older "old" is.

I was out at the park yesterday, watching some hippies hanging around doing nothing, much like hippies have always done, only they were modern day hippies, in their twenties. I wanted to walk over to them and hang out, and I almost did. I knew I could relate and connect with them. Then I thought of looking in the mirror, and realized that I wasn't twenty, and that all they would see was an old guy with kids and a balding head. They wouldn't see me - they would see the shell of me that has gotten older and hopefully a little wiser. They wouldn't be able to see that I was still twenty inside.

When I step back and look at my life, I see that I traded being "forever twenty" for finally growing up, but it took me twice twenty to get there. I just wish sometimes that I could have both - "twenty" and "wisdom".

Pushing a rope

There is an old saying that I have heard to describe something that is tough. People say it is like pushing a rope. It is kind of a funny picture. It is particularly funny because I have tried it.

I notice at those rope pushing times that I might do better to listen to the obvious - you can't push a rope. But our world says 'try harder', and so I do.

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if we were to trust the timing of things. Those times when it feels like we are pushing a rope might just be times to trust that we should do something else for awhile. Because pushing that rope just plain goes against the laws of the universe. Yet I have to admit that to surrender my agenda and stop pushing something that isn't moving anyway takes a trust in the goodness of God that I find challenging at times. But almost always, listening to the obvious is best.

So I guess we are all gonna do better to pull the rope when it moves, and when it doesn't, let go, and let God move the thing.

Clinging to God

I find that my belief and faith in the presence of the Eternal is pretty temporary. I am ashamed to admit that. After all these years I should probably be a little more able to endure the times when God doesn't seem like He is working. But it takes about 3 minutes and I start wondering.

The blessed part of this whole thing is that He isn't bothered by my faithlessness. Papa is always working, even and especially when I don't sense Him. His function in my life really has nothing to do with me. How cool that I can't mess up His plans, regardless of how carnal and faithless I am. It allows me to rest in His goodness and presence when I don't feel His goodness and presence.

Ain't He cool!

Love and Pain

I have been visiting a new definition of love lately. It has been hard to sit with.

I am beginning to see that real love is really about embracing pain. Because love is about giving to that other person, and if it doesn't cost us something, it isn't really love. If there is benefit in an act that leaves us getting something from the act, that is about us, not that other person. To be truly selfless is to put that other person ahead of ourselves.

If I have a million dollars in the bank and I give $1000 away, it isn't love. There isn't really any pain in that. When I give the million away, that hurts. There is a cost to my gift. Remember when Jesus talked about the widow giving her two pennies away? He said she had given more than everybody else, because it cost her something. He says the money wasn't coming out of her excess - it was coming out of her need. She didn't have anything - it was painful to give it. That is why it was love.

When I stop along to the road to help someone with car troubles, it is kindness. When it cost me something - late to work, money to help them out, etc - then it is love. If it is convenient, it isn't love. I am not saying that kindness isn't valuable. I am saying that real love (not our 21st century definition, but the Jesus definition) costs. It can't not.

The Greek word in the Bible for love is Agape. It means that we aim for what is in the best interest of another person, regardless of the cost to us personally. I see so much of what we call love today is really about being nice to a person, not real sacrifice.

Jesus wasn't nice. He was love. There is a big difference.......

Walking in blessing

I am overwhelmed lately with the goodness of God. I don't know what it is, but He seems to be everywhere, doing things that I just didn't see before. And to be honest, I don't know what to do with it.

I learned earlier in the journey to be okay with the crappy parts of life. I learned that I would follow God even if it didn't make sense, and when there didn't seem to be much of His presence on the trail. I was able to get to a place where I would follow Him, regardless of the path.

But now, "following regardless of the path" has taken on a dimension I hadn't planned on. It actually was easier to follow when things were predictably tough. But now I am in a season where God is blessing and moving and working in ways I never imagined, and I am finding it hard to just be in it.

What a funny problem to have - to struggle being in the good stuff of life. But I know that I need to be willing to follow into this as much as I was willing to follow into the rough times. But I never imagined taking in blessing could be hard.

I find myself deeply thankful that I didn't give up this path when the going was hard. Thank you Papa for the circle of blessing and trial.

Gettin on the train

Ever since I was a little kid, I have wanted to hop a train. I have had this fantasy of jumping in an old box car as the train chugs along, and riding it as far as it would take me. I imagine the train taking me to wild adventures and places I could only dream of. It is one of the few adventures I haven't lived.

There is something symbolic about the whole thing. As I reflect on my life now, I realize that the drive to jump a train has diminished considerably as I live out my life as a grand adventure. It keeps me alive just trying to keep up with what God is doing. Because every day is a new turn - the scenery that passes by the box car door of my life is always changing, always stretching me, always pushing me to new limits, and then breaking those limits. The adventure of faith has kept me more than entertained.

It is sad to see the numbers of people who settle for sitting in the seats safely in the station. It sure is a lot less dangerous, but it also lacks in stimulus to make you want to get out of bed in the morning.

If I were to throw down one challenge to my readers, it would be this; enter the adventure. Jump on that train that God engineers, and let Him take you where only God knows where. It will make your heart beat like never before. And it will stretch you beyond imagination. But what a grand life to live!

Dawn's Early Light

As I sit here, it is five something in the morning. It is Sunday, and in a few hours I will be busy doing whatever it is I do on Sundays. It is dark, and the house is quiet. I have the little portable heater pulled up close to my feet, trying to stay warm in the early morning chill.

As I reflect, I feel my aloneness. It feels good to be quiet and still, unhurried by the cares of what is to come this day. In my reflection, I am reminded that I am not really alone - I never am REALLY alone, because Papa sits with me. He loves me enough to sit quietly when I am too busy to talk, and He listens with heart engaged when I turn His way.

I guess that probably doesn't sound very profound - that God is always with me. But that is the very point; His presence isn't predetermined by my awareness. He IS always with me (even when I don't want Him to be). He will never leave me or forsake me. He and I are forever joined - Father and son, Friend to friend, Brother to brother. And knowing on any level, let alone the deeper ones, that I am never truly alone, feels really good. I am never alone.

And knowing that I am never alone, that in the middle of my confusion and lostness in life I sit with God Himself every moment, changes my reality, if I realize the truth. His presence changes my reality, my experience of life - He always does. But something even more profoundly shifts when I am aware of that presence. When I acknowledge what is true every second of my life - that He is with me - my life changes - because I am not alone. He doesn't have to part any seas or bring fire down from heaven. He doesn't need to make staffs bud or enemies defeat themselves. Because He IS - like He was at the burning bush, like He was at the cross. His presence is always enough.

Thank you Papa for the promise of the ages - for the promise that we are guaranteed You will always keep.

Do you wear your faith or live it?

One of my big frustrations with Christianity is that some people see it as a performance to put on. Evangelism and Bible study and church attendance become things to do, not a way to live. The events become the end goal, not the reason for the events. It is like our faith is something to wear because you are supposed to wear it, like a three piece suit on Sunday. Nobody REALLY likes wearing one, but you are expected to.

So are you wearing your faith, or are you living it.

Plugged in but not connected

Several years ago I actually was able to say to people that I didn't have an email address. It seemed back then that everybody wanted one. Now I not only have more than one email, but I also have a blog, a website, a book, more than 50 articles on the web, and Facebook. And then there are things like Twitter that I have not started yet. Let's not even go to cell phones, instant messaging, checking email from a phone, and all the other techo gadgets....

It strikes me as odd that we can connect with other people a hundred different electronic ways, but we really don't connect with people. We are plugged in, but we aren't connected. I wonder how much real relating is happening. I talked to a friend on the phone today on the way to work, and it was great to talk, but I longed to deeply connect - an option that doesn't seem to be available through the many ways we have to 'connect'.

More options, less substance. Makes you wonder where are we heading as a nation, as a people, and as the body of Christ.

It is funny that society is so interested in connecting....but not really.

After He Rose

So it is the day after Easter. It should be one of the most exciting days of our year, but it usually means we go back to the same old routine without much having really impacted us.

I was thinking about what today would have been like for the disciples. The very hope of their existence had come true - He had risen. And so began the adventure. Because from His rising till today, it has been a wild and crazy ride. I mean, think about it - tomb empty with angels hanging around, unpredictable visitations from the risen Christ, personal encounters that redeemed the fallen and doubting, Him magically appearing all over. Think about the church sharing daily, then the dispersion, then persecution. It has been much more than an adventure.

So why is boredom the biggest struggle most Christians have? I suppose because we have traded the adventure for the predictable. After all, it is a lot safer.

The day after He rose - isn't that where the rubber really meets the road? Otherwise it is just another holiday full of bunnies and eggs and pastel flowers. So when the rubber meets the road in your own life, what will change because of the celebration yesterday? Does He live? Or did He rise in vain? The answer will be determined in how you live today.

Commercials

I was driving to work this morning and listening to the radio. At about the 126th commercial, I shut it off. As I drove relishing the silence, it dawned on me that commercials are a choice we make. We are just as culpable as the Radio stations and TV stations in the whole mess. Somewhere we agreed to a TV commercial every 10 minutes. When I was younger, it used to be every 15, but some rocket scientist discovered that you could get more commercials in if you did them every ten minutes rather than fifteen. So we sit on the couch and agree to sit through an interruption every ten minutes. We agree to stupid commercials when we run out and buy the peripheral item that we really don't need. Commercials convince us that we need them. What a farce!

What would life be like if we were to unplug from it all? If we stopped being okay with a commercial every ten minutes, what would happen to our world?

Why have we created this system? Is it working? Or more accurate is the question 'Do we want it to keep working?'

My book is in print!

After months of work, I got my book published. "The Steps Leaving the Church." I can't tell you how excited I was when the Fedex guy finally delivered it. Ripping open that package and seeing something I created was an event I won't forget easily. If you have been a blog fan, check out the book at the link below;

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/the-steps-leaving-the-church/6616767

Reading my own words in book form has been really weird. Some of the pages I read sound almost profound, and I can't believe the words came from my little brain. Other pages I will blame on someone else. I don't know if the book will go anywhere. I guess ultimately it really shouldn't matter. I wrote it for me, as a celebration of the journey God has taken me on. The rest is up to God and what (if anything) He wants to do with it.

Here's to little accomplishments and future hopes!

Marking time

Its one of those evenings when I start thinking about the swift passing of time. It seems like just last week I was a teenager and over the hill meant 30. Now I am pushing 50 and I realize that I don't have a whole lifetime ahead of me. 60 isn't that far behind, and regardless of how I slice it, the slope is all down hill from here. I don't mean to be overly morbid - it is just that life is feeling mighty precious these days. Many things in my life are coming together, and I see God using me in ways I have only imagined in the past. I want to breathe in every moment of it and not miss a single breath.

So where from here? The single passion in my heart for the last 25 years has been to impact the world for Jesus. But how do we leave a mark in the world? Touching people's lives seems like the most precious commodity of all. What will be left when I am gone? Will any of us have touched history in a way that will live beyond us? When I was 20, I thought I really mattered. Now that I am ever so much past 20, I find my value waning as I struggle to stay young and on the cutting edge. Is there impact that we can make in the second half of life? Or will we continue to discard those most valuable in our society because they aren't 'cool'.

Papa, I want to make a mark. I always have. To leave behind a world that has been changed in some way by my hand - that is my prayer. And if I am really honest, I don't want it to be a small mark. Will all my writings ever be of interest to someone else after I am gone? Will the splash I make in the pond of life send ripples into the future?

I am comforted with the thought that I am not that important. When I am gone, others will pick up the baton of faith. And some will impact the world, and others won't. Ultimately, our relationship with Jesus is the only thing that lasts. And I am deeply thankful, when all is said and done, that Jesus is the author and perfector of our faith. May the marks on history be His to make, whether or not he wants to use the likes of one of us.

Birthday reflections

It suddenly just dawned on me, like 2 seconds ago, that my spiritual birthday is in 2 days. It will have been 27 years since the decision to follow Jesus - not bad for a guy who is only 25. As I reflect, there are a hundred lifetimes reflected in those years, and at least a million miles. There have been some absolutely horrible spots in the road. There have been times when I wish I had never chosen to follow - not because Jesus wasn't true, but because it has been too damned hard at times. I think about the journey and honestly, it has been a hard one. I guess I made it that way by my slowness of heart.

But then I think about how different it would have been without Jesus. I imagine I would have done the same stupid things and made the exact same mistakes, but there would have been no one there when it came time to find my feet again after my falls. He has never left me of forsaken me, though at times it sure felt like it. As I look back, I see that despite the difficult times, it has been very worth following Him.

There have been so many turns that make the road look convoluted. So many wonderings and wanderings that have made 'the road less traveled' a difficult one. I don't mean any disrespect in my honesty about the toughness of the road. I realize now that every painful step was a needed step. You might say that there was need of more than one shovel to dig me out of the messes of my life.

And now I am here, in this place in the road. And as I look back, the potholes aren't really the things that I remember. What I see as the result of the journey is where I am now. And what I see when I look at the journey from the 'now' is Jesus. I see His working with a pretty unlovely lump of clay, and totally despite me, He is making something beautiful.

It is easy to see the failures of life. I wonder how often we see the Jesus of life. Because Jesus transcends the failures and the successes. He is more than both, and Lord of both, and He offers us more in relationship with Him than we could ever find in the emptiness of our failures or the joy of our successes. He is what it is all about.

I see so far to go, and yet as I turn away from my looking back and face the future, there isn't an infinite number of years left. I am hoping that I have another 27 years in me, but maybe not. But there is a larger question than the number of years left or the number of potholes I have fallen into, or the number of transforming victories I have experienced. And that is the amount of Jesus that I get to shine. You see, apart from the good and bad of the journey is the power, presence, and person of God.

My prayer is that at the end of my life, people won't really notice Mike's mistakes or Mike's accomplishments. Sure, having the good stuff noticed would be great, but it is nothing compared to people noticing Jesus.

Somehow Papa, may people see Jesus. That is my prayer.

Cutting trees with a divided heart

My friend Trevor came and visited from California last weekend with his wonderful family. We had a blast doing all kinds of things. But one of the things that we didn't get to do was cut down a tree. Trev wanted to get the old chain saw out and watch a 100 foot tree topple over, but when we stopped at the ranger station for a tree cutting permit, it was closed.

Normally, and on every other day of the life I have lived, I would have blown off the whole permit thing and just cut down the tree. I have a problem with authorities charging me for the privilege I believe God gave us, but none the less, an $8 fee is required. I was torn with whether to buck the system and go covert and illegally cut some firewood, or be above board and be a good Christian. I ended up deciding neither.

I have never been one to obey certain ridiculous laws like wood cutting tags. But over the years I have discovered that doing something like cutting without a permit leaves my heart divided. I can go ahead and lop down a ponderosa pine, but I do it with at least a little part of me looking over my shoulder to make sure nobody is going to catch me. And I hate that feeling. It divides my heart. It keeps me from fully enjoying the simple fun of watching a tree go over. And bottom line, I am sick of living with a divided heart.

So we didn't cut down a tree. Instead, we played in the shop and went hiking and drank some beer and had a blast enjoying. And we did it all with a single heart that I really believe brings glory to God. Not because cutting down a tree would have been bad, but because I wouldn't have been able to do it single hearted and to the glory of God. You see, my fully enjoying it would have been glorifying God.

And that I want to do more than anything else in life.

Coasting

Life has taken me to a place where I end up having to drive a lot. So being the cost conscious tight wad that I am, I coast, trying to save on gas. There is a big hill I end up driving quite frequently that I can kick the car into neutral on and coast over 5 miles. I don't know how much gas I am really saving, but it makes me feel better to watch the miles go by without the engine doing much work.

I notice that there are two kinds of coasting in life. The first is when we think we have arrived at a certain goal, and we stop putting in the time. Like the last couple months of a presidential term - the lame duck syndrome. Sometimes we don't think we can make any difference, and sometimes we just quit trying to make a difference. Whatever, we end up coasting and not doing the work. I see a lot of Christians like that - not doing much of anything, just coasting through their relationship (or lack thereof) with God. I guess that would be bad coasting.

But there is another form of coasting that isn't about shirking responsibility as much as it is about trusting God. Learning to go with the natural desires and interests that Papa put in us is a form of coasting that says "I trust what He is doing and where the natural gravity of His spirit is leading, and I'll rest in that - in His presence and guidance." It is a very cool place to be.

So which are you? Are you coasting? If so, are you letting Him lead you, or are you just plain losing interest? They might both be easy, but for totally different reasons.

The paths we never walk

I was sitting in front of the fire tonight and thinking about life - not the path it has taken, but about the ones it hasn't. There was a job at a hardware store that I am thankful I didn't get. The cars I almost bought. The houses that I was going to remodel. The relationships that never took off. The adventures that never got lived. There are vacations that never happened, and things I wanted to try and never did. There are memories that are real, and a thousand more that were just my imagination. I used to think that there was one right path for a person's life, but as I walk the one I am on longer, I realize that it is one of many paths I could have taken.

But this path has led me to this specific place in the journey, and who knows why I ended up here.

The answer to that last question is 'God'. God knew the path from the very beginning, from the moment I was conceived in my mother's womb. He has known the devastating mistakes, and the profound victories - long before they happened they were a memory to Him.

I don't know if anything I do in my life will really ever make any kind of impact in the eternal realm of things. There are people in the world who would say I touched their lives in dynamic ways. There are others who would say I am the reason their lives are a mess. What do you do with the dichotomies of life?

In the end, God is all that matters. He is the only one that makes the number of days we live make any sense whatsoever. He is the one who weaves together the threads of our lives in ways that makes a tapestry ultimately. Out of the victories and devastations, He makes something beautiful. Sometimes He uses the path we walk to create that living testimony of Himself. Other times He uses the ones we never walk as the defining moments of who we are not - to shape the person we become.

Who knows but for such a time as this we were put on this earth. How will the next moment on the path be lived? And what will He give the world through the unique vessel of us?

The line between young and old

I watched an old guy buying paint at the hardware store today. As par for the course, I was in a hurry. He acted like he had all the time in the world. And I realized that most of my life has been lived in a hurry. I wondered as I watched him, where the line is between young and old. When do you wake up and have time to kill? When does the pace change?

I realize that this guy at the store probably was retired and didn't have anything to hurry off to. His pension check or social security check or whatever he used to live on came regularly in his life. I am still in that phase of life where I wonder where the next meal is coming from, and how I am going to pay the bills this month. I guess he had the luxury of income - to some extent at least- that he didn't have to work for. I was still chasing the almighty dollar.

I know the day is coming when I will wake up with lots of time on my hands and little to do. I suppose on that day I will have all the time in the world. But today I find myself still in a hurry, still trying to survive.

The line between young and old will happen without me knowing it. And I will look back on this busy day and wonder what all the scurrying was about. And when all is said and done, will the scurry of this season balance the slowness of the next? Will the young still living in me regret that I didn't relax a little more? Or will I be glad that I hurried when I had a reason to hurry?

I know for sure that Papa loves me, that this life isn't what it is all about, and that someday He will make all of it make sense. And I know He is the reason for life, hurried or slow paced. I am so thankful that it isn't about me!

Osage Orange

There is probably more than a few of you who are reading the title on this one and wondering what that is. Osage orange is the name of a type of tree that is found in the Midwest. It is sometimes called hedge. I has nasty thorns and is really hard, and never grows straight. Perfect for walking sticks - except you can't find one that isn't shaped like the back of a camel, and if you do, you'll come out of the thicket with thorns in places you won't admit to. The Indians used to use the wood to make their bows out of. It is my favorite wood to make into walking sticks. Those who know me understand that despite 30 days in rehab, I still nurture a habitual addiction to carving walking sticks.

So when I was back visiting my dad at T-giving time, I forced my brother to cruise the country roads until we had at least 4 Osage Orange logs in the car. I like the hedge wood because once you get past the thorns and the very unremarkable bark, there is an equally unremarkable sap wood underneath, just like every other tree. But if you keep carving, the heart wood is a vivid orange, and hard as iron, and absolutely beautiful. But you have to go through a lot to get down to the beauty.

And that's the point - to get past all the unlovely stuff to the real gem on the inside. I guess it's a lot like people - sometimes you have to get past some pretty ugly stuff to find the beauty. I think one of the things that made Jesus so cool was that he could see past thorns and unremarkable bark and ordinary sap wood to get to the real heart of a person. And always it was beautiful, because He is the one who puts the beauty in the hearts of all of us.

Dare to discover the beauty in someone today. They may fight you on it - maybe because they lost hope a long time ago that there was anything beautiful in there. Help them see it again.

Turn two

My buddy John and I were going our separate ways after coffee last week and he did something that I had never seen. He pointed at me with two fingers, making a funny looking peace sign, only aimed at me. I had no clue what that meant - I thought it was one of those strange John things. (You'd have to know this guy to know the depth of oddity he carries daily :) - you'd also have to know him to know the depth of friendship and value he holds in my life).

Finally he asked me if I knew what that meant. I guess he could see the cluelessness on my face (that look goes away rarely in my waking hours). He explained that in the Navy, it was a sign that meant "Turn two". I remained clueless looking. He went on to explain that it meant to turn from what you were doing, and then turn again to what you should be doing - the job at hand.

It struck me as a pretty novel concept, and one that we are lacking in the body of Christ. I realized that John was talking about real repentance. So many times we define that word as 'turning from our wicked ways', but it is more than that. It is also turning toward Jesus. I find so many people who work like crazy at turning from their struggles and sin, hoping to get sinless and struggleless. And as I think about it, that sorta misses the whole point. Because Jesus is the point.

We couldn't fix ourselves. That is why Jesus came. We couldn't do it right enough. So He did it right for us. Real repentance is about turning two - away from our sin (as best we can), and more importantly, toward Jesus, because it is all about Him, not about us. When we get that through our heads, we are facing in the right direction.

Take a chance

The biggest struggle in the body of Christ is not sin, it is boredom. More saints are sidelined by ineffective faith than falling into some big scandal of morality. Last weekend I was preaching about the temptations Jesus struggled with in His 40 days in the desert. One of the things that I saw from the three temptations Satan throws at Him was a struggle with what it meant to be loved. When Satan took Him to the top of the temple and challenged Him to throw Himself down, thereby testing His Father's love for Him, he was hitting at the very core of faith - the question that asks "Am I really loved by God?"

I find that most Christians will tell you they know they are loved, but they don't live it. Because if we know we are loved, and there is nothing we can do about that being loved, we are free to make mistakes and live in faith and a trust that our Father's love for us is unlimited and unconditional. But when we don't trust that we are loved, we live in fear, and that fear keeps us from taking any risks - it keeps us from really living in love because we are afraid of losing that love by some wrong thing we might do or say.

When Jesus was tempted, He trusted in His Father's love, even when it didn't seem very evident. That was the only thing that made His struggle with temptation different than ours - His response to it. He trusted that He was profoundly loved even though it didn't feel like it. That trust gave Him freedom to move boldly in His ministry, even when it didn't go well. He was able to risk doing and saying things that weren't real popular because He knew there was nothing that could separate Him from His Father's love. Trusting and living in that love enabled Him to take chances.

So why don't we? Because we have this stupid thought in our heads that says we might do it wrong, we might mess things up, we might upset God. How ridiculous! If that line of thinking is floating around in your head, dare to confront it and take a risk. We say we believe in the sovereignty of God. But we live in a fear that we are so powerful that we can thwart whatever it is He wants to do. Take a chance and challenge that! Either the Bible is true, and there is nothing that can separate us from His love, or it isn't.

In which case be very, very afraid.

Dreams and worries

It seems that life happens in the middle of a paradox, somewhere between the dreams and the worries of our lives. All of us have them - those things that call us on, move us forward, and keep us climbing out of bed in the morning. And then on the other side are the things that drain us of life, the worries and stresses of our existence. We all have those too - the things that ruin our joy and rob us of our dreams. And most of our lives are lived in the space in between.

Where does God come into the mix? Where is He when it comes to that space between dreams and worries? I guess for me He is the very glue that keeps my world from being torn apart as the dreams pull my life one direction and the worries pull the other. He is the one who keeps us from going crazy in the middle stuff.

I wonder how people make it who don't have God?

Eagle in the mud

I was driving the other day and as I looked in the valley to my left, there was a bald eagle not more than 75 feet from me, eating on a dead animal. I had to look twice to see if it was really a bald eagle, and as I craned my neck to see if it was, I could see him all covered in mud. Somehow it struck me as odd. And a hair ironic.

It reminded me of our country. The US, the mighty eagle, wallowing in the mud. That really is ironic. We have thought ourselves the nation blessed by God, although we don't do much to honor him or bless him as a nation. We started out with freedom of religion being one of the main tenants of why we separated from Britain, but somewhere in the last couple hundred years we decided that God was; #1 - an option, and #2 - disposable. But we still want him to bless us. We don't want to be a nation under God, but we want his blessing.

Now we are reaping some of what we have sowed, and the mighty Bald Eagle is eating dead carcasses and wallowing in the mud of its own choices to be without Him. We have no one to blame for our stupidity but ourselves. So when do you think it will dawn on us to stop pointing fingers and start picking up a shovel and filling in the hole we have dug? Probably not till we have wallowed in the mud a while longer.

Losing the freedom to not work

In the midst of an economy that is falling apart, I find interesting things happening - not in our country and its financial state - but in the minds of the people who live in it. I have talked to several folks who are devastated because a lot of what they had invested has disappeared. As I put myself in their shoes, I can imagine that being really hard. But there is a whole other group of people who have been living like that their whole lives. They haven't lost the ability to not have to work the rest of their lives - they have lost the ability to work and provide for their lives.

Having a retirement is something that is a luxury. Many people in the world don't have that luxury. I don't have one. My dad is 80 and is still working, simply because he can't eat without working. My mom is 76 and still working. I hurt for those who were wise and invested, and now have seen a large part of it vanish. But those that I hurt for more are the ones who will never have a retirement, who have never had the means to put even a few dollars away. I'm sure some are just foolish, but there are others who just plain didn't get very lucky in life. They never got hired on to the companies with the large parachutes attached. They never made enough to meet more than the basic needs. They are those who have been living on less that $40k for most of their lives.

There is a huge slice of humanity who never got the nice stuff. They have never been able to buy a home (let alone a second home to got to for two weeks a year) or a new car (let alone trade up for a new one every other year). Their existence has been hand to mouth most of their lives. They haven't been able to get the education, nor did anyone call them up to that standard. They are the working poor - doing the labor for large corporations at $8 an hour. Have you added it up to see how far $8 an hour goes these days? Try bumping it to $20 and hour and see how far that one goes. And then compare that to the $37 billion per quarter profit earnings of a corporation like British Petroleum.

My point is that losing the freedom to live work free for the rest of your life is hard. AND so is living your whole life without ever being work free. But the poor aren't just losing their freedom to not work, they are losing their freedom to work. When you have to choose between selling your car and selling your house, and you choose selling the house because you can go to work in your car and live in it, I think that is a bigger problem.

Which one would you choose?

Whatever happened to grace?

I had two separate things happen recently that really opened my eyes to the condition of our country.

The first happened last Friday. It was trash day and I forgot to set the trash can out. When I saw the truck coming up the road, I sprinted out, dragging the 150 pound of garbage we had accumulated behind me. The trash man passed right by our drive, but stopped at the next door neighbors' and loaded up his trash. He watched me dragging the heavy thing as fast as I could down our muddy drive way, and as I smiled at him, he loaded up his truck and continued on.

Now I know that nowhere in the universe is it written that he had to come back the whopping 50 feet to get my can. I had missed my opportunity to get my junk picked up. But it was only 50 feet!!! It didn't seem like it would have cost him that much to go out of his way a little. Evidently he disagreed. The can has been sitting out by the road all week.

The second event happened as I was trying to get some lunch during a busy day. I cruised into the local McDonald's (not even close to my favorite place to eat, but I only had $2 for lunch, so they were the choice of the day.) As I pulled up and ordered a hamburger, I was reminded that there was still 4 minutes till they started serving lunch. Frustrated, I ran a quick errand to take a video back, and was back in line within a couple minutes. When I got up to the speaker phone, I was reminded that it was still 2 minutes before they would be serving lunch. I sat there in silent protest to the stupidity of their inflexible schedule.

It seems that there just isn't much room in life for grace any more. I know that I was in the wrong in both instances. I know nobody HAD to help me. But would it have been so horrible to come back and get my can, or serve me a stupid hamburger 2 minutes early? I mean COME ON!!

What have we become when the letter of the law matters more than the people we serve? What does it mean in the church? Do we live the law, or do we live grace? And would it really hurt us that much to show a little grace to those who need it once in awhile? We don't do that with our Christian family - why would we do it out there in the real world?

Are there any real followers of Jesus in the house? I don't think my garbage man or the employee at McDonald's were Christians. But we are. Shouldn't we live lives of grace? And if your answer is 'yes', then I propose the simple question -are you?

Outside the box

Every one of us has a box we live in that keeps us comfortable and safe. Most of us don't want to admit that, but we all have one. It is our paradigm of understanding the world, our values, our perspectives, our dreams and prayers. Every body has a box - but few know how to think outside of it.

For some, the box is a denomination. For others it is there education or their job. Still others learned a set of values that they live within. Those boxes serve to define us. But they also serve to limit us.

There is something about following God that calls us outside that box. To be in a relationship with God is to be outside the box, because He is outside of any box. He is always undefinable, eternally mysterious, and always new. He doesn't ever seem to do the same thing in the same way - much unlike us humans.

So why do we settle for boxes? Because they are more comfortable. Our comfort seems to have become our own little version of God. We want the easy answers in life. We want someone to just tell us how to do it - tell us what is expected - give us easy answers with obvious and clearly defined limits. We like boxes - they just make life easier to deal with. But then we turn around and wonder why our walk with God is an exercise in staying awake, rather than a wild adventure of following. Boxes and adventure don't go real well together.

So which side of the box do you want to be on - the inside or the outside? It matters more than you know. Remember in your deciding process that Jesus was most criticised by those who couldn't stand the fact that he didn't fit into their boxes.

Cross country skiing

I decided to don a pair of cross country skis today and see how far I could get. The idea of gliding silently through the Colorado countryside has left me longing to get out and try the outdoor exercise for weeks. So my son Nathan and I entered the adventure this afternoon. 120 feet later we retired the skis and exchanged them for slippers and cowardly came back inside. Actually that isn't entirely true. I cowardly came inside. Nathan stayed out and did another 100 foot. He is so much more manly than me.

I guess I expected the whole skiing thing to be easier. I don't know what I was basing that on. I tried cross country nearly 30 years ago and absolutely hated it. We skied 7 miles in one day and I thought I was going to cry. Evidently time erases bad ski experiences.

I find that a little cross country is like a little of God. Following Him for any length of time quickly separates the men from the boys (we'll forget for a moment that my 9 year old made me look like a little girl this afternoon.) There comes a moment somewhere in the journey with the Lord that forces us to ask ourselves just how far we are willing to follow, especially when the going gets tough. I am deeply thankful that although I am a wimp on cross country skis, Papa and I have been traveling for quite awhile. And that is one adventure I will never give up.

In attempt to sound trite, I am reminded that 'cross country' is a sport described by two words - cross and country. Its funny to note that the sport bears the word 'cross' in it. I wonder sometimes how the world might change if we Christians were willing to pick up that item a little more often. But like my wimpy attempt at cross country this afternoon, we give up when the road gets too hard - loving others isn't for the faint of heart.

So what kind of cross country person will you be?

The great and powerful OZ

People and power don't always go well together. Power is one of those tough topics that we dodge in the kingdom of God. Yet is is so relevant. Everything boils down to it. Ultimately a surrender to Jesus is about laying down our power - the power or ability to think we are God of our own little universe.

Sometimes power comes out as a inflated sense of self importance. We think the world really needs us. We call that arrogance. But I find a far more dangerous pattern of power is our codependency. I am not really sure how many people really know just how damaging codependency is, let alone what it is. So let me explain.

Codependency is also a pattern of relating to the world with an inflated sense of self importance, but it is indirect. It is when we think we have to hold the world together because no one else will. It is when another person's job becomes ours to do. It is when another person's well being is in our hands. It looks like genuine caring, but it isn't. There is an old joke about the codependent who's car stalls on the railroad tracks as a train is coming, and someone else's life passes before their eyes.

Lets imagine that an able bodied, normally gifted person continues to not find a job. So the codependent helps them out, giving them money for food or some clothes or a ride. That would be called 'caring for someone,' until the point where our actions keep that other person from taking care of themselves. Sometimes that other person doesn't really have to get a job because we are meeting all their needs, doing for them what they can do for themselves. It makes us feel good that we can help, and it makes us mighty powerful, but it enables that other person to remain helpless - they don't have to find a job because we keep taking care of them. They don't have to save money because we keep giving it to them. They have the luxury to be irresponsible because we are working over time to be responsible for them. That isn't the love of Christ; that is codependence.

Exerting our power would mean to force them to have to reap what they sow. A general tell tale sign of codependency is when we give to point where the relationship with that other person is frustrating us - we are working harder at them getting somewhere than they are.

There is an interesting scene in the movie 'The Wizard of Oz'. The lion, tinman, scarecrow and Dorothy go before the great and all powerful Oz because they want him to do something for them. He tells them to go face their deepest fear - the wicked witch of the west. Ultimately at the end of the story he shows them that they had the power to get where they wanted all along. Although he takes a circuitous route in getting there, he finally draws the good out of them that had been there all the time - they just didn't see it. That is the work of Christ - not doing for others what they can and could do for themselves, but believing in and drawing out the good that God put in them when He created them. It is reminding them that they really are powerful - over their struggles or addictions or discouragements.

So go be the Wizard of Oz to some folks today.

Facing Goliath

It strikes me that life continually brings us face to face with giants. It can be going along smoothly and then suddenly something happens and you are forced to deal with something that looms in front of you, larger than life. I got confronted by one of those yesterday.

I don't know why I am surprised when the Goliaths some along. It shouldn't catch me off guard, but it always does. I had and interaction with some really good people yesterday that went really bad, and it has left me reeling as to what to do next. The ingredients of that interaction were my Kryptonite. It really upset me. And today I have to deal with the situation, and I don't want to. It is one of those times where I pray for wisdom, because I feel a total lack of having any.

I know I'll get through it. As I look across the office, I see my wife also facing a Goliath today of a different type. We all have one. I guess it is part of what it means to walk with God. May He give us strength as we step out onto that battlefield and face the things we would rather not face.

The things we put in chains

Life is filled with challenges. Some of those are handed to us without our even knowing it. Others we knowingly pick up.

As I walk with God longer, I realize that the stuff that happens in my life is rarely the place I struggle. It is what I do with the stuff that happens that is the issue. I guess it is all about perspective. I can see a $25 check as a curse because I was hoping for $500, or I can see it as a blessing because I wasn't expecting it at all. It isn't the stuff, it is what we do with the stuff.

I wonder how many of life's problems exist because we put them in chains. What I mean by that is that we bind up the stuff of life - we decide if something is possible or impossible. We are the ones who see a situation as hopeless or hopeful. We throw the chains on whatever is happening, and never let it sit in the lap of God. We lock together the padlock of self sufficiency and determine the future, not by our faith, but by our fear.

"The things we put in chains" - what if we weren't doing that? What if we took the adversities of life and just took them, without the chains. What might God do with what we left set free? That issue or problem might fly away sooner than we could ever have imagined if we would have left it without the burden of our earthly perspective, our narrow judgment, and our fleshly fear.

Will there ever be an end to the lessons yet to learn?

Learning to glorify God

I was painting today to make some extra cash. As I tried my best to do a job that would glorify my boss (not the guy paying me), the thought went through my head 'How would we do the things we do differently if Jesus had the paint roller next to us?' For one of the first times in my life, I realized I wouldn't be doing much different.

After years of short cutting, half assing, and giving my self excuses to do it less than perfect, I am finally at a place where I actually work hard to do whatever I am doing well. And it only took 4 decades! Of course it helps to be working for a guy who tends to be perfectionistic (yes, the guy paying me), and if I am really honest, I need the work badly, so doing a good job pays off. I close the door of the bathroom I am working on, and paint to the glory of God. Or at least try to.

What's my point? I guess that sometimes you do what you don't want to do because it is all you have to do. I am thankful for the job. I wonder sometimes why a guy with a Master's degree is painting bathrooms, but that road leads to some disgruntledness, and I don't want to go there. So the new work that God is doing in me is helping me to learn how to do what I have to do not only in the level of my performance, but in the level of my character.

If I could get that part of me to glorify Him, it really would be an act of God.

Mulling at midnight

Ok, Ok, so I know I'm writing at 2 am. My buddy Glen says to get used to it - it comes with old age. But since he is older than I am, I can still play the game that I'm not there yet (or he beat me too it). Whatever, I'm sitting hear writing in the middle of the night.

These times around the woodburner give me time to reflect on my life. (That isn't just figurative - we actually heat with wood all winter, so I have this ritual where I restoke the fireplace and contemplate my navel.) God seems to show up when it is just Him and me on the old leather couch we have in the 'library room'. The library room is all torn up right now - I'm putting in the slate flooring that has been sitting under 3 feet of snow all winter.

As I sit on the couch, my life comes to me in pieces that I carefully take out and mull over. I have no clue what it means to 'mull over', but I do it quite frequently. I pull out the pieces of what is happening in my life and look at them from a different perspective, seeing what they feel like and smell like and taste like. Just spending time with those pieces helps me find my way in life a little easier. And it helps me get to know Papa better.

Tonight we are mulling over some opportunities that have been thrown in front of me, with a normal section of our time questioning the direction of life and the speed with which it is passing.
Sometimes the conversations are just replays of previous conversations - meaning I mull over the same stuff for several 2 am slots in a row. He seems to always be there though. It is almost like He doesn't have anything better to do. And we are becoming fast friends in the process.

I know that someday I will be on my death bed, and as I look back at the 2 am times around the fire, I know I won't remember the fires I built or the things I mulled over. I won't even probably remember this blog entry. The things I spend the wee hours contemplating will have all passed away, and what will remain will be the time with Papa.

Who am I to question His motivations to want to hang out? I know there have been many times in my life when I have gotten up in the middle of the night just to see if the new thing in my life was still there. That used to happen a lot when my oldest two boys were born. I would sneak to their rooms when I should have been sleeping, just to see if they were still there, and everything was going okay. I just couldn't believe I got to be a father.

Can I blame God for that? He wants to just be with me. He misses me. So I am not the only one who wants to hang out with me. That is kinda cool.

Life after death?

Is there anything after this life? After working our 40 every week, after taking that 2 weeks of vacation we get each year, after all the tedious steps between our teen years and retirement, there comes the question about what really matters. I wonder if the eternal question of life shouldn't be challenged. It shouldn't be "Is there life after death". The question should be "Is there any life in our lives?" For far too often we settle for existing through the time we are given. We have forgotten how to live.

So what does it mean to be alive? I don't know if I have any magic answers. I know that if your life is about living to retirement so you can do what you really want to do, you are wasting your time. Where did we ever get the model that says I trade my youth doing something I don't love so I can get old and not have any youth to do what I love?

I think there are two messages that I want to convey. The first is this; Don't settle for doing something with your life that you don't love. Life is just too stinkin short to waste on employment that isn't from your heart.

The second is this; if you know what you will be doing next week and the week after that and the week after that, do something to upset the schedule. Parachute, learn to belly dance, buy a motorcycle, shave your head, paint your toenails, drink a beer, smoke a cigar, hike a mountain, drive too fast, sleep all day - just do SOMETHING out of the routine of life. Grab hold of a spark plug, get struck by lightening, put battery charger clamps on your ears. Come back to life! Don't settle for the status quo. Challenge it once in awhile.

The hardest spiritual battle isn't with sin. It is with boredom. So go do some battle!

Real prayer

Prayer has become one of those things that Christians are supposed to do. But as I step back and look at it, it has become a religious term. It is one of those words we use around the Christian table, but do we really know what it means anymore? I think, like a lot of things in Christianity, we have lost most of what the word was supposed to means. So what is prayer?

My 'Out of the box answer' goes like this - When I was a kid, my brother and I used to play this game where we would say a word over and over as fast as possible until the word lost its meaning, and just became a sound our mouths were making. I think that is the way prayer has become - a Christianeze word that we talk about, but don't understand any more. I personally try never to pray. I talk to God almost all day long, but that doesn't have anything to do with 'prayer'. And I don't believe prayer is ever about changing God's mind. If that were true, I would be God of the universe, because all I have to do is pray and I can control what He does.

If He always wants our good, why do we have to 'pray' to convince Him what is good? I believe prayer is always for our transformation and changing, not His. Prayer is about changing our mind, not His mind. Prayer is so we can get in line with His general and specific will for our lives, not so we can line Him up with ours. It is our participation in His transformation of our hearts.

Prayer is really all about us. Ironically, (or is it moronically) we think that prayer exists to change God' s mind. I wonder - if that is the purpose of prayer - to change His mind - then why does the Bible say He is never changing? The Bible does talk about Abraham changing God's mind when he negotiated for Sodom and Gomorrah (what a dumb investment that was!) I don't think that was an example of what we need to do in prayer. I think that was a Jr. High version of relationship with God - He enters into our immature definitions and understandings and requests out of sheer grace, not because He is so movable by our manipulations.

We think that prayer is our pump handle so God will give us whatever we think we need. That isn't relationship with God. That is using somebody for our ends.

Garth Brooks sings a song about begging God to give him the girl of his dreams when he was young. When he runs into her at a high school football game many years later, he thanks God for the unanswered prayer. What he thought he would have died without turned out to be a blessing to live without. So who are we to decide what we need, or to tell God what we want put on our plate?

My encouragement today is don't pray. Just talk to Papa, and listen lots. And forget trying to get Him to do what you think He needs to do. Instead, open yourself up to what He wants to do in you.

What is real excellence?

We had a teleconference call on excellence earlier this evening. It was an interesting conversation. One of the topics that came up was the idea that earthly excellence has a measuring stick attached to it. We always equate that word with some level of performance - and excellence was the top of the measuring stick. We agreed that we like excellent things, and get caught up in a thinking that teaches us to strive for excellence in our personal dealings. As Christians we get the idea that we are called to excellence. I found myself strongly disagreeing.

I think there are two kinds of excellence. The first is the kind of excellence that uses a qualifiable measure to determine its very existence. In other words, the first type of excellence is something you do. I would agree that God is glorified if we strive to do something well for Him. But I don't believe this is the kind of excellence that He calls us to.

The second excellence, and the one that matters in the kingdom of God, is excellence as a value, as a way of being in life. Excellent being surpasses excellent doing. We can do excellent things in the world, and still be a horrible person. Several years ago there was an Olympic sprinter who was a hopeful for winning the gold, but the story was that he was a complete ass when it came to being on the track. He was arrogant, self centered, not a team player, and very unpopular with the rest of the Olympic team. He was an excellent runner and a poor human being.

There is more to life than excellent performance in the tasks we do. Some of us will never be excellent at what we do. I believe that there is another level of excellence - it is doing what we do with an excellence of personhood that has nothing to do with outcome - it has to do with engagement of heart.

One of the callers tonight told the story of a Downs Syndrome grocery bagger who puts encouraging notes in the bags he packages up for the customers at his grocery store. As she told the story, I realized this young guy was at a level of excellence the highest paid CEO will never attain. His product isn't excellent - his heart's intention is. And what a profound difference.

So what kind of excellent do you want to be?

Things that we believe

When I was a kid, there were certain names that I heard in my world that seemed to all blur together. A classic example was the big copper thing that stands in a harbor on our east coast called the statueofliberty. It wasn't until I was probably in Jr. High that I realized the statueofliberty was a statue that some other country gave us, and that it stood for liberty. I know, hard to believe that I could be that ignorant. What do you expect when your mom and dad were related before they got married?

Another one that took even longer to decipher was the famous actor with a glass eye named sammydavisjunior. I remember being in high school before I realized 'Junior' wasn't his last name. We always said the name in a quick repetition, as if it were the guy's last name. It always seemed strange to me that someone would have the last name 'junior.'

But I realized an even deeper truth the other day. It was the revelation that I wasn't as inbred as I thought (or maybe it is that my kids are as well). We were talking with the boys about not having school today (Monday), and if they knew why. They said it was because it was Martin Luther King, Jr.'s birthday. Being the eternal smart @*#$^ that I am, I asked them what Martin Luther King, Jr.'s dad's name was. Without thinking, one of the boys say "Martin Luther King Junior Senior. I busted a gut.

All this to bring me to a point (I know, hard to believe I actually have one.) I wonder how many of the things we believe are really true. I used to have an aunt and uncle that had one name. They were Margeandjim till I was in college. I wonder what foolish beliefs we hang onto, not realizing their foolishness.

I received an email today - it was spam from somebody I didn't know. It had a really cool picture of Jesus with intricate detail in His face of a crucifixion scene and the three crosses. And at the bottom it said that everybody who had passed the picture on had gotten very blessed - one had won the lottery, another got a promotion. And everybody who deleted it got a curse. One lost her job, another had his family get killed in a car accident. It made me wonder if there were really people out there who believed this crap. I mean, COME ON! There is stupid, and then there is a couple steps past stupid. This one walked off the cliff.

But even the normal people in the world have their ridiculous beliefs. 'I need to pray more or God won't do what I want Him to do'. Really? Are you that powerful that it is up to you? All you have to do is more of something to manipulate God? COME ON!

There are a bunch of them we swallow without chewing. 'Trust more, be more obedient, God is disappointed with you if you don't read your Bible every day, you are going to hell if you don't go to church, etc.' COME ON! He is God because we can't be, but we sure try. The Bible gets pretty clear - God is love. End of sentence. Why is that so hard to digest?

So I deleted the Jesus picture email. It was stupid thinking. And now I have this rash.....