Run with Endurance the Race

“At the time, discipline isn’t much fun. It always feels like it’s going against the grain. Later, of course, it pays off, for it’s the well-trained who find themselves mature in their relationship with God. So don’t sit around on your hands, strengthen your weak knees. Clear the paths for long-distance runners so that what is lame may be healed.” (Hebrews 12:11-13; MSG/NAB para.)

Currently, I am training for a big run. As part of a twelve-person team, I will participate in a 200-mile relay race in less than two weeks. Before I started training in January, the last time I ran was in June.

One of the first things I had to learn as I began to train was to work on my words. I had to stop saying, “I’m not a runner.” Saying that diminished and devalued any attempt at progress I made. Instead, I worked to say, “I’ve not previously been a runner, but I’m running now,” thus affirming myself in my training.

The next great obstacle was my body, which did not want to run. For the past couple of months I’ve battled discouragement while nursing tight calves, weak knees and ankles, struggling lungs, misaligned hips and shin splints.

While running, to combat the pain and the negative attitude that tried to win in my mind, I turned to prayer. At first I tried sticking with gratitude lists, but eventually my mind fell to a mantra of brief, repetitive God-praising phrases to egg me on and keep my mind focused solely on God and not on my discouraging thoughts or resistant body.

Then came the moment when I ran my first full mile. Not long after that, I ran through two miles. Not long after that again, I ran three miles.

Triumph. And only with God.

I still battle pain and discouraging thoughts. It’s difficult to fit training into my schedule, and the shin splints won’t seem to go away even though I’ve given them rest and tried other methods for healing. But come hell or high water, I’m running in that race. The experience of disciplined training and having real, tangible evidence of progress and what God makes possible is more rewarding than I could’ve expected. For that, I am incredibly grateful.

Up next: a sprint triathlon this fall. I feel a little crazy to consider it, but I’ve seen from these past couple of months what God can do with me if I let him. (I’ve also realized that the only way I apparently have the discipline to work out or get any exercise is if I’m training for an event.)

“Let us strip off every weight that slows us down. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Think of him and you won’t become weary and give up.” (Hebrews 12:1; NLT para.)

My prayer today is that I place Jesus before me at the finish line and at all points along my runs so I can see and hear him cheering me on and see him jumping up and down at the finish line, just waiting to lift me up in his arms after I cross it, embracing me and telling me, “Well done.”

Amen! =D 

Radical Change

“God is kind, but he’s not soft. In kindness he takes us firmly by the hand and leads us into a radical life-change.”  (Romans 2:4; MSG)

Yesterday, as I was preparing to write, my hand made a double-click which led down a rabbit hole and a few clicks later opened a Pandora’s Box of my past. Buried in folders within folders I came across an old journal of mine. I randomly clicked to a page, then found it difficult to pull away as I read through the rest, seeing old details of my life unfold. Wounds, pain and evidence of the mess I was each is spewed across the pages. It is raw and it was very real for me.

Reading something like that a few years ago would’ve sent me into a downward spiral. Coming face to face with such sadness and struggle, I would’ve gone into “I give up” mode because it would’ve shown me I hadn’t changed and therefore couldn’t change.

But that was before I found the courage to step into total surrender and willingness, throw my hands up and let it all go.

Whenever I tried to ‘fix’ my life by my own plans, I failed. The moment I truly gave it all to God, I found that success was possible. Now, this didn’t mean I didn’t have to do any work. Stepping out in faith and saying, “Okay, God, here it is. Your will, not mine,” does not mean stepping back and waiting for something to happen or waiting for something to change. Saying yes to God means signing up for radical life change – and I certainly play a role in making that change.

Working in surrender and trust yields results. I know I am moving under God’s direction when I receive affirmation and feel the effects of positive change. When I struggle, it might be a good time to stop and check in because chances are I’ve started trying to do things my way again.

Radical life change. It’s a scary thought. It means doing things sometimes which might make others think I’m crazy. It means putting God above all else, which might call for difficult sacrifices. It means possibly not being understood by peers and facing lonely days which require I cling desperately to faith.

Radical life change. It’s turning everything in my world topsy-turvy and buckling in for the ride ahead.

Jesus didn’t come just to forgive us our sins; he came to show us a new way of life, a free life, a fruitful life, a life of love. By his example we are to live our lives – and that’s pretty radical.

My prayer today is that I see where I’ve shied away from some radical changes and let go of my will and also to bask in gratitude for the radical changes God already effected in me.

Amen! =D

Painting Love

“God’s Word vaults across the skies from sunrise to sunset, melting ice, scorching deserts, warming hearts to faith. As the heavens tower over the earth, so God’s love towers over the faithful. As far as the east is from the west, so far have our sins been removed from us.” (Psalm 19:6; 103:11-12; MSG/NAB)

The Bible can be pure poetry with its imagery. One of the things I love about thumbing through different translations is to read how the same thing is said in different ways. The picture painted for me allows me to transcend the pages and step into the sands of the Israeli deserts.

If you’ve ever watched “Mary Poppins,” you might remember when Mary, Bert and the kids go on an adventure by jumping into one of Bert’s sidewalk chalk drawings. One moment they are standing in the street, the next they are running through a field, encountering dancing penguins, riding a carousel and then riding the painted horses off the carousel and into an animated horse race. All it takes is a little imagination.

This is what the Bible is like for me. I don’t ride carousel horses with Moses or Jesus – although I certainly could if I wanted – but when I get into scripture, really get into it, I’m not just reading words on a page. The Good Book comes alive and I find myself fascinated at the sights, smells and sounds around me.

Last night at my church’s Lenten dinner, our speaker shared many great words of wisdom on the love of God. One of my favorite things she stated, though, was that the Bible is a love story. It’s One Big Love Story all about God’s Love for Us.

The Bible is a love story.

From creation through persecution and into sending his son to live and die like one of us and then triumph over death and evil in the resurrection and ascension, the Bible is an incredible narrative of God’s love for his human children. What lengths, heights and depths he went to to prove his love for us!

I invite you, if you don’t already do this, to pull a Mary Poppins when you read the Good Book. Feel the sand beneath your toes, hear the thunder on the mountain when Moses meets God, see the delight on the faces of the children who flock to Jesus. To imagine being there is to make it feel that much more real and tangible. It aids in a deeply personal relationship with God, something he so desperately wants for us to have.

My prayer today is that as we prepare for the celebration of our Lord’s resurrection, we move toward a resurrection of our childlike wonder. May we allow ourselves to step outside of rigidity and read God’s Word with eager eyes, yearning hearts and open minds. It is the Greatest Love Story Ever Told, and I hope to see you in its pages.

Amen! =D

Come With Me

 “Jesus said, “Come with me.” They didn’t ask questions. They dropped their nets and followed.” (Mark 1:16-18; MSG, para.)

Is there anyone of whom you can think who, if they walked up to you today, would produce the same response from you that Jesus got from the first disciples? Can you think of anyone, famous, local or otherwise, who could compel you to drop everything and follow if only he/she asked?

Depending on which Gospel one reads, the story of the first disciples varies a little. Matthew and Mark both are brief: Jesus sees the men fishing, calls to them; immediately, they follow without question. Luke expands on it, showing Jesus teaching already, and being seen & known around town. He comes upon the fisherman and teaches while they are near, then performs a miracle before calling them to follow him.¹ John’s Gospel highlights John the Baptist declaring Jesus is the Lamb of God, and it’s his disciples who first follow Jesus after hearing the proclamation.²

What was it about this man that made some people so willing to give up everything and follow him? Was it the authority of his teachings? ³ Was it his living by example?  Was it the miracles, the healings, the fact that he hung around the lowly? Certainly, his healing power and the miracles were the reason a large number of people followed him, but for those closest to Jesus, the disciples, what drove them to stick to Jesus like glue?

I have the benefit today of having Jesus’ life and teachings, as well as teachings and letters from the first Christian churches, to guide and aid me in my Christian walk. Yet I have the comforts of a privileged human existence: roof over my head, food to eat, bed to sleep in, job, phone, computer, friends, family, cats... I experience Jesus from the pages of a book, miracles occurring without sight of him, and promptings of the Holy Spirit. I experience Jesus in the love and kindness of others, the grace and forgiveness of those I’ve wronged, the guidance and care of spiritual leaders.

One might say I’m well-prepared and have good knowledge of who Jesus is. But I have to ask myself: If I was out walking on the beach and Jesus came up beside me, saying, “Come with me,” would I go? Or would I be like those who said, “Okay, but first I have to get my affairs in order,” rather than follow him immediately?⁴ I don’t know the answer to those questions. I like to think I would simply say, “Okay!” but I know my human heart may have misgivings about giving up everything I know about living and everything I have in my life.

Yet it could be that being in the mere presence of the Glory of God in human form would remove all doubt, worry and fear, freeing me simply to say yes to God.

My prayer today is that in those moments when I feel Jesus calling, I do my best to follow. It may not always look like I want it to, sound like I want it to, or be what I want it to – certainly at times it may seem foolish and crazy to people around me – but may I do my best to follow. Jesus, today and all days I am graced with this human life, may I do my best to follow you with all my heart, mind and soul.

Amen! =D

¹ See Luke 5:1-11. Also this entry: May I Interrupt?

² John 1:29-51

³ Matthew 7:29; Mark 1:22

⁴ Matthew 8:18-22; Luke 9:57-62

Dim Bulbs

 “Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life. Isn’t it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses?” (1 Corinthians 1:26-28; MSG, para.)

Sometimes I need to sit and remember where I was and who I was when I stepped across the line into this God-obedient life. At my core, I’ve always been me; this person who lives my life now always has been in there. It’s just that it was buried under layers of depression, persecution, addiction. And as I still struggle with being human – selfishness, insecurities, distraction, rebellion – there are moments I wonder if I’m really cut out for being a messenger in this God-life.

But God uses the dim bulbs to show how bright his light can shine.

How powerful the story of a person so beaten down who rises up in hope and light and goodness once he surrenders to God! How powerful the miracle of one who was so very lost and living in darkness who finds healing in Jesus and is forever changed! Flipping through the Gospels, the pages are littered with exactly these stories. The blind, the lame, the lepers, the tax collectors, the prostitutes, the dregs of society – these were the people to whom Jesus was the closest.

Going back through the Old Testament, the story isn’t much different. Time and again, God chose the weak and insecure to do his greatest works. Jacob was a liar, Moses was a murder and fugitive who couldn’t speak well, Gideon was insecure, David was an adulterer¹... The list goes on.

God doesn’t choose the squeaky-clean to carry his strongest messages.

Holding myself to high standards, it’s easy to feel like a screw-up and a failure. What I forget in my humanity is that God finds strength in my weakness. If I am strong on my own, what need have I of God? I was broken that I could be mended, wounded that I could be healed and mired in darkness that I might come forth as a bearer of light. 

“But he said to me, “My Grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness.” Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size – abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10; NIV/MSG)

My prayer today is that when I feel weak I remember that in my weakness, God shows his strength. May I remember that the core of my message lies in the miracle of healing by Jesus, who brought me forth from darkness into light, pulled me from the depths, resurrected me from the dead.

Amen! =D

¹ Genesis 27; Exodus 2:11-15; 4:10-12; Judges 6:15; 2 Samuel 11:2-5

Taxes vs. Death

 “Then Jesus said to them, “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.” (Mark 12:17; NIV)

I started my tax return today. Knowing that I’m not likely to win the lottery to solve financial issues, I jumped into my taxes in hopes of a refund. I was confident that this would be a way God would provide. As I clicked the last button, I felt sick to see that my state return was cancelled out by what I owed to federal.

Generally, I try not to talk dirty or mean about people. I may slip, but I really do try. Except when it comes to the IRS. Especially as it relates to taxes. The words I’ve used to describe how I experience them are profane, but best express how violated I feel time and again by taxes. And I feel like I have no power over them.

After indulging in willful disobedience and consoling myself with food that definitely does not fall under my Lenten dietary commitment, I sat down to write so I didn’t miss the bar on both commitments today. Instantly the story about giving to Caesar popped into my head.

As I prayed and pondered, then picked up and read the verse in its entirety, it hit me square in the face. “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.” Giving to Caesar is easy. The government tells me I have to pay them money, so I pay it or suffer penalties. Giving to God? Well, I write a lot about how much I take back from God. I’m a thief and re-gifter to God: “Here, take this. No, I want it back. Here it is again. Can I see that for a minute? Please, I don’t want this; take it.”

I also had to look at what I don’t give to God that is God’s. Time, talents, spiritual gifts. I wrote recently that I don’t want to be that girl hiding her light under a bucket,¹ yet I’m standing face to face with a line of buckets under which I hide.

Lent provides me great opportunity to learn about myself and about my God-given work. I know I’m giving to Caesar what is his, but am I giving to God what is God’s? What am I holding back? Why? Honestly, I feel excited to explore this although I know it means hard work ahead.

Right now I’m making a commitment that will require great effort on my part: No more dirty talk about the tax man. God will provide for all my needs so long as I trust him to do so. He’s done it before and he’ll do it again. And as I step into what may be part of that provision, just maybe I will start removing some buckets.

Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s; give to Me what is Mine; trust me to take care of the rest. Look at the birds and the flowers of the field, carefree in my care. How much more do I care for you! You will find all your everyday human concerns will be met.²

My prayer today is for the strength and courage to come out from under my buckets and step in willingness and obedience into the wide-open, wonderful God-life designed specifically for me. May you also find the way out from under your buckets.

Amen! =D

¹ Am I Consistent? See also Matthew 5:14-16

² Mark 12:13-17; Matthew 22:15-22; Matthew 6:25-34/Luke 12:22-34

Stay With It.

 “Stay with it – that’s what is required. Stay with it to the end. You won’t be sorry; you’ll be saved.” (Matthew 24:13; Mark 13:13; Luke 21:19; MSG)

Ever been in a place where you wonder if it’s all worth it? Feel like staying in bed or going far away from everything are better options than continuing in your day to day life?

I know that place. I know those feelings.

As a survivor of a severe chronic depression that plagued me for twenty years, I am all too familiar with feeling like life simply isn’t worth it. In ways both active and passive, I sought to end my life on many occasions. The most familiar feeling for me was that of being trapped; somewhere inside I knew I didn’t really want to die, but I knew I really didn’t want to go on living.

It was a very dark, lonely and hopeless world. By the end I looked for any way to escape my pain I could find, which only exacerbated and worsened my fear and hopelessness. I couldn’t understand why God, who I knew loved me, would allow me to hurt so badly for so long.

The thing is, I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust him to heal me. I didn’t think I was worth it. Even when I cried out, “God, help me!” I didn’t really think he would. No matter how often I went to church, no matter how much scripture I read, no matter how many prayers I prayed, I was simply too afraid to believe God would really help me.

I was simply too afraid to believe God would really help me.

Fear is such a manipulative beast. When fear grips me, I can become paralyzed and forget the strength I have in my Great Creator. I can forget that though I am less than a grain of sand in the infinite Glory of God, he cares about me personally. He loves me and wants to help me and asks only that I turn, face him, open my heart and trust him.

Within our small human frame of reference, it is easy to ascribe human attributes to God. This makes it difficult to see how a being can truly love freely and unconditionally, and be always forgiving, gracious and merciful. This also makes it easy to compare God to people in our lives, including people who let us down, break promises, hurt us and cause us pain. Thank God, God is not human.

God is so much bigger. He’s so much bigger than all our worry, all our doubt – and all our fear.

God. Is. Bigger.

Pick up the Good Book and flip through the Gospels a little bit. You’re sure to run across at least one of many verses which find Jesus saying, “Courage, do not be afraid.”¹ Time and time again he reassures those who tremble in fear, those who do not feel worthy, the outcast, downcast and downtrodden. Time and time again, he lifts them up and encourages them.

He wants to do that for you and me, too. Take a deep breath and allow yourself for a moment to be transported back to the time when Jesus walked the earth. He walks through your town amidst a throng of admirers as you watch from the sidelines. In the one brief moment that your desperation to be free from your pain finally is greater than any fear, you find yourself suddenly in the throng, pushing past people, bending down and fighting through the crowd to get to Jesus. “If only I can get near him,” you think, “I can be healed.” You come up behind him and boldly reach for him, brushing his clothes. Instantly you feel different, you feel changed. As he turns toward you, you prepare to be humiliated in front of the crowd for wanting to get so close to Jesus. Instead, it grows quiet. You look up into his eyes and he smiles the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. He touches your chin and gently raises you up. “You took a risk and trusted me. Now you are healed and whole. Live well, live blessed.”²

Stay with it. Stay with it to the end. It’s worth it, trust me. There is hope and there is light. I find mine in the Sweet Soul I follow with all my heart, my Jesus, who calls me beloved and friend. I find mine in God who is bigger than anything and everything, who made all things seen and unseen. I find mine in a faith that finally allows me to trust, even when life gets hard here on this earth.

My prayer today is for those of you who struggle with darkness, hopelessness and despair. May you find peace and comfort and freedom from your fear. May you live well and live blessed, and find yourselves healed and whole.

Amen.

¹ Matthew 10:26, 28, 31; 14:27; 17:7; 28:5, 10

Mark 5:36; 6:50

Luke 5:10; 8:50; 12:4, 7, 32;

John 6:20 12:15; 14:27

I’ve only listed some Gospel verses here (likely not comprehensive, so go flip through the book to find more!), but many, many more verses of God reassuring us and telling us not to fear, to have courage because he is with us pepper the whole Bible throughout, Old Testament and New. :)

² Mark 5:25-34; Luke 8:43-48; Matthew 9:20-22

Am I Consistent?

“You’re fortunate if your behavior and your belief are coherent. But if you’re not sure, if you notice that you are acting in ways inconsistent with what you believe, then you know you are out of line. If the way you live isn’t consistent with what you believe, then it’s wrong.” (Romans 14:22-23; MSG)

This topic is on my heart tonight. It’s been on my heart more than usual recently, and certainly is on my list of things for self-examination this Lent. Especially as I write these devotionals and publish them in a public forum, I must ask myself, “Do people in my inner circle see behaviors, actions and attitudes in my life that reflect what I claim to believe?” ¹

Tough question.

I find the thing I’m grappling the most with right now to be selfishness. It’s so very easy to explain away a lot of my selfishness. I do give a lot of time and energy to people and things outside of myself. Some people even tell me they consider me selfless. But I know in my heart that I still could do better. Isn’t that always my battle, though? Constantly striving to be a better version of myself?

Perhaps the reason for the nag on my heart about being selfish is connected to a recent event in which I acted out of selfishness. Perhaps it is a recent event where self-will dominated, not God-will. Perhaps I’m simply feeling over-sensitive given some recent emotional events.

Perhaps God is letting me know it’s time again for growth.

Often when I feel something so heavily on my heart it is a good indicator both that my behavior requires some examination and also that it’s time to grow a little stronger in that area. Where am I selfish? Why do I feel the need to be selfish in that situation? What can I do to change the behavior? Am I lacking firm boundaries? What is the nature of the relationship in which I feel selfish? Is it healthy?

Of the many little cards and notes of prayers, inspirational sayings and scripture I have around my home, one says, “Lord, I want to be more like you. May I see where changes are necessary, and trust you for the help I need.”

Sometimes when my eyes pass over this card I find myself unwilling to read through it because I know it can mean hard evaluation and difficult change.

Following Jesus is not a calling to take lightly. Constantly striving to be more like him means constantly fighting my human nature. I am not naturally selfless; by nature I am selfish. And in my selfish nature I can end up withholding love from those who need it, wasting gifts God so graciously gave me, and hiding my light under a bucket.² I don’t want to be that girl.

My prayer today – as I suck in my breath, preparing for hard work ahead – is that God reveal to me where I am selfish and that I trust him to help me make a change. No excuses. I also pray that God grant me the ability to have grace and patience with myself, as I am human and therefore often prone to falling short of my expectations.

Amen! =D

¹ “Teach believers with your life: by word, by demeanor, by love, by faith, by your integrity.” (1 Timothy 4:12; MSG)

“Live well, live wisely, live humbly. It’s the way you live, not the way you talk, that counts.” (James 3:13; MSG)

² “You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? Shine!” (Matthew 5:14-16; MSG, para.)

This verse appears in an earlier reflection as well.

May I Interrupt?

“Simon Peter, when he saw it, fell to his knees before Jesus. “Master, leave. I’m a sinner and can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.” (Luke 5:8; MSG)

Shortly before this moment, Jesus, in an effort to better teach the eager crowd closing in on him, interrupted Simon in his work and had him put his boat back out in the water. I would like to be able to read of this interaction and the time in-between, but maybe it is better to imagine it...

Simon, James and John spend a long, tiring night out on the lake only to come back empty-handed. They beach their boats and begin the thankless task of washing their large nets. Perhaps they think about how many nights there were like this, how they will provide for their families, when they will finally haul in a good catch. Who knows if they even notice or pay attention to Jesus and his growing crowd?

Then Jesus just climbs right into Simon’s boat. Totally hops in uninvited and then has the nerve to ask Simon to get in, too, and put the boat back out in the water. Simon recognizes Jesus as the man who recently healed his mother-in-law (Luke 4:38-39). Feeling a bit obligated, he complies with Jesus’s request, then sits nearby in the boat while Jesus teaches the masses gathered on the shore.

I can’t help but imagine Simon spent that time in the boat much like many of us do in the pew on Sunday. He catches bits and pieces of what Jesus says, but he is distracted. His mind is on the long night and lack of fish. He thinks about the net he has yet to wash. He knows better than to expect James and John will do it for him since he’s stuck out here with this Jesus character. Simon’s attention is feeble at best as he checks off his mental to-do list and tries to prepare for the coming day.

As Jesus wraps up his sermon, Simon yawns. Jesus turns to him and says, “Push out into deep water and let your nets out for a catch.” (Luke 5:4) Simon thinks, “Is he kidding? Seriously? I didn’t catch anything all night and I already have one net waiting for me to wash on the shore and now he wants me to take the boat out again and toss my clean nets out?” He summons all his courage and patience as he again remembers that Jesus healed his mother-in-law. Half-protesting, half-obedient, Simon does as Jesus asks, sure to point out the clear folly in his request as he threw the nets out. Immediately, the nets fill with fish. So many fish that James and John have to bring their boat out to help haul in the catch.

How often do I find myself in this situation? I’m tired, I’m frustrated, nothing’s going my way, I’m worried about bills, I don’t have enough time, and then – God interrupts. Absolutely no consideration for what I think or feel about it, he tells me to put the boat in the water. Then he talks for awhile and I sit in the boat, yawning and half-heartedly listening as I think about things I need to get done. Then God nudges me and says, “Go deeper.” Somewhat reluctantly, I go. And suddenly I find myself in that place of God’s Abundance, that Romans 5:1-2 promise of the Peace and Grace that come side-by-side with stepping out in faith.

I often feel like Simon Peter, falling to my knees and saying, “I do not deserve this.” Because I know, as Simon knew, that I could’ve done better, listened closer, tried harder, been more willing, etc, etc. The thing is, I never could be “good enough” for God’s Grace. I never could do or say enough to earn his Love. Which is why I am thankful that God’s Grace is freely given. There isn’t a thing I have to do to earn his Love – it is already mine without condition. And no matter how many times I fall, he will pick me up, dust me off and kiss me on the forehead as he says, “I forgive you.” Every time.

So how does Jesus reply when Simon falls to his knees and confesses his feelings of unworthiness?

“Jesus said to Simon, “There is nothing to fear.” (Luke 5:10b)

There is nothing to fear.

With that, Jesus tells Simon, James and John that they will be fishers of men. The three new disciples leave everything – everything – behind and follow Jesus. Because it never really was about the fish, was it?

My prayer today is that I work harder to stay focused on that which God reveals to me. It is so easy to be distracted by the things of this world and my daily life. I pray that I may strengthen my ears to therefore be quicker in perking them up when I hear the voice of my God speaking to me.

Amen!

Why Does God Allow Suffering?

“I found myself in trouble and went looking for my Lord; my life was an open wound that wouldn’t heal. When friends said, “Everything will turn out all right,” I didn’t believe a word they said.” Psalm 77:2; MSG

Currently I am going through a training course geared toward providing pastoral care in a hospital setting. The course is rooted in the principles of Christian love and Christian care giving. Since it is taught in a hospital that is not faith-based we are challenged to move outside the “Jesus is the answer” box and provide Christian care without invoking the name of Christ out of respect for those whose faith journey follows a different path. This is hard for some, as all of us in the class have testimony to how being a believer has made all the difference in how we cope with and handle the presence of suffering in our lives. It proved an especially challenging exercise given the question we faced in our most recent class: "Why does God allow bad things to happen?"

We were given the week between classes to ponder the question and prepare for discussion. My thoughts on it ranged from answers found in my Christian faith to principles and ideas from Eastern religions, different philosophical musings and the plain ol’, “It is what it is,” ideology. I also asked a lot of people around me to hear their thoughts on the subject. In AA meetings that week I listened a little harder when people shared how they moved through trials and what their varied spiritual experiences were and are.

For the duration of class we carried on a very involved discussion. We covered every range of answers and lack thereof, we explored rebuttals, some shared stories, many shed tears, some struggled with how not to try to lead someone to Jesus or give "cheap grace." One gentleman especially struggled tonight because this coming Saturday is the one-year anniversary of his beloved wife's death. His faith was evident though, as through his tears he continued to give thanks and praise to God and shared how God moved through his wife's illness and death and the growth he experienced as a result. After class he was visibly having a hard time holding it together, so I walked over to give him a hug and he burst into sobs, lifting me off the floor as I hugged him tightly and he cried. I just held onto him for a little bit, then when I sensed his breathing slow, I told him I loved him, gave him an extra squeeze and walked away.

Ultimately, that is what I walked away with from the discussion. I'd gone in having concluded that I have plenty of answers to that question that can be tailored to all different kinds of people, but none is ever sufficient. In those crisis moments, those Psalm 77:1-10 moments, there isn’t really anything anyone can do or say to sufficiently explain suffering in a way that will bring comfort. However, I was unable to resolve that conclusion, thinking, okay, so then what? The lightbulb moment came in listening to everyone, to how much we want to fix people and show them the way, to the reminders from the chaplain that we are in the process, not the results, understanding it's okay not to have all the answers – perhaps the best answer is no answer at all, but a demonstration of Love through the simple act of having the Grace to allow people to be where they are, listening, genuinely caring and unconditionally loving. I believe, as experienced with my classmates and aware of it in myself, that sometimes we get so focused on how we can be of use and what that looks like that we forget to stay in the moment and instead block the incoming flow from the Spirit because we are trying to think our way to the best way rather than just letting God have his way.

I pray today that I may better learn how to let the Holy Spirit move through me, especially in opportunities to allow people to be where they are. May I be an instrument of God not only in my speaking, but even more so in my listening.

Amen!

Certainly Not the Least

“I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” (Matt. 25:40, NIV)

Today I want to tell you about Michael.

Michael first attended a service at our church this past summer. He faithfully continued coming every Sunday after for our combined 9:30am service, and transitioned to the 10:30am service when we went back to our 8 and 10am services after Labor Day. Shortly after that, he began attending the 9:15am bible study before church. Michael certainly is not one to miss many of our potluck gatherings, or events at the church which involve food.

In the seven months he has attended our church, I’m not sure if Michael has missed a service. I’ve missed a few due to being out of town, so I can’t say with certainty that he hasn’t missed at all, but I do know that when I am there, he is there. He may have been late a couple of times, but he still showed up for his Jesus time.

I do not know what Michael’s official diagnosis is. Some in our church speculate that it is a form of schizophrenia, which is entirely possible. He carries some mannerisms many of us associate with autism. I would guess Michael’s age to be somewhere between 25 and 35. Depending on how well his meds are working, he might be able to communicate something that resembles a coherent thought. As we’ve gotten to know Michael, some of us are able to understand what he’s trying to say – if we pay close enough attention.

When Michael started coming to our church we had to make some personal adjustments. His imaginary friend often misbehaves during the service and Michael will argue with him and tell him to be quiet. This was a shock to our systems, to our traditional hearts that are not used to such interruption to the readings or the sermon. Some parishioners took longer to adjust than others, with scolding glances thrown in Michael’s direction (which of course had little to no effect). Michael occasionally gets up out of his pew and delivers notes to our priest while he gives the sermon at the podium.

It took some time to adjust, but gradually Michael became a beloved and necessary part of our family. In spite of his apparent mental impairments, Michael has enough comprehension to follow our service schedule when we have special services; as I mentioned above he comes to nearly every potluck dinner; he attends Sunday school where one lady always gets his coffee while he finds a donut; and he even attended confirmation classes with the youth group. He knows what it means to pray, and I’ve never been so moved watching someone receive communion as when Michael does. There is no question in my mind that he knows the meaning of Grace, even if he never could tell us so.

Of all the people in my church, perhaps none embraced Michael so immediately and lovingly as our priest. Rev. Jim didn’t bat an eye or falter in his sermon when Michael showed up and argued with the unseen troublemaker in his pew. The first time Michael came up the aisle during the sermon to deliver a bulletin with simple and incoherent words scrawled across it, Rev. Jim broke his message only to accept the note, smile and say, “Thank you Michael,” and pick right back up where he was. He was sure to welcome Michael after church, and has invested time in learning more about him through community contacts in an effort to better understand his situation.

To say that there were no dissenters would be a lie. There were a very few who didn’t like Michael’s repeated attendance and disruption of the service. For the most part, though, my beautiful church family welcomed him and loved him just as they welcome and love all who come through our doors, just as they welcomed and loved me when I came through the doors. And as we got to know Michael and he got to know us, we found a balance. His outbursts are fewer and farther between and he lets us get a little closer to him to at the exchange of peace, though still isn’t always all about the touch of a handshake. He recently celebrated his birthday, for which one of our members brought a cake to coffee hour and a couple of small gifts such as gloves to keep his hands warm this winter.

In the last few months, as South Carolina Episcopalians were thrown into a battle of church politics and religion, I’ve lost count of the number of times that, in my church family, the conversation has quickly turned to a story about Michael. Because Michael’s membership at our church and the way our parish family embraces him as one of our own exemplifies the Christian message. It reminds us in an obvious and tangible way who we are and why we follow Christ. We have grown together, Michael learning from us and, most importantly, us learning from Michael.

Could it be any coincidence he showed up shortly before the diocesan upheaval began?

My personal belief is that there is no such thing as coincidence. I find strength in the bond of my spiritual family, our open arms and our desire to follow Christ and share the good news. I find great hope while watching our leader grow from some apparent disenchantment into a greater shepherd of his flock, desiring to protect us and keep us in the light. Perhaps Michael taught him a few things, too.

Today I pray that those who are seeking will be met with the grace and love that Michael found. May God lead them with open minds toward open doors and open hearts.

Amen! :D

A House of Prayer for All People

"Make sure no outsider who now follows God ever has occasion to say, ‘God put me in second-class. I don’t really belong.’ … And as for those outsiders who now follow me, working for me, loving my name and wanting to be my servants – I’ll bring them to my holy mountain and give them joy in my house of prayer. They’ll be welcome to worship the same as the ‘insiders.’ Oh yes, my house of worship will be known as a house of prayer for all people.” The Decree of the Master, God himself, who gathers in the exiles of Israel.” Isaiah 56:3, 6-8 (MSG)

Why some insist on picking and choosing scripture that excludes, rejects, condemns and promotes intolerance, I don’t understand. My personal experience of the Good Book is mostly messages of Love, Forgiveness, Acceptance…

Especially if we call ourselves Christians, proclaiming to follow Jesus – who himself said the most important commandments were Love God with everything in you and Love People, too (See Matt. 22:34-40), not to mention he constantly broke religious laws, healed people on the Sabbath, threw a fit and turned over tables in the temple, hung out with the dregs of society and railed against the Pharisees and Sadducees who were so rigid in their rules and traditions, intolerant and unaccepting of those who didn’t think like them (See Matthew, Mark, Luke, John) – it seems we send a conflicting message when we pluck certain condemning scriptures and judge others by them.

As a greater part of my church is in conflict and we strive to discern God’s will nationally, regionally and as parishes and individuals, my constant prayer is for Jesus to be present, that we remember to keep Christ in Christianity.

I praise and give thanks for my own church family, especially as I see those in leadership working hard to keep us moving in the right direction, following God’s will, remaining as bearers of the Good News with our doors, arms and hearts open to all.

“As for me and my family, we’ll worship God.” Josh. 24:15 (MSG)

If you feel rejected, excluded, unloved, or if you’ve turned away from God, Christianity or religion because you feel it has turned away from you, come to my house. Come see God’s love alive and present in my church.* We will welcome you and love you as the Child of God you are.

And if you can’t come to my church, I pray God will lead you to one like it. I’ve been blessed to experience many churches like my own in my travels – I know they exist and are waiting for you. Just ask God to take you there.

Today and all days, I lift up my greater church, all of us who find a home in it, and for Christians everywhere – I pray we keep Christ in Christianity and let his message, God’s message of Love, be that which takes priority above all others.

Amen! =D

*If you are in the greater Charleston, SC area and looking for a church home, feel free to contact me.

I’ll Build on the Solid Stuff, Thanks.

I would like to thank a friend who recently started blogging for reminding me how I’ve neglected mine. This weekend while I’m taking time to re-balance my center and quiet the devil trying to knock me off of it, I thought this a good time to revisit my reflections & devotional writing.

“These words I speak to you are not mere additions to your life, homeowner improvements to your standard of living. They are foundation words, words to build a life on.” (Luke 6:47; MSG)

It used to be when I fell out of contact with people that I was isolating myself. Whether I was too depressed, too caught up in one addiction or another, or both, generally I isolated because I believed the lies I told myself that I was nothing more than a waste of space and no one really cared anyway. Often, my tipping point came as a direct result of misplaced focus: putting too much of myself into something that was not guaranteed. It didn’t matter if it was person, place or thing; all were capable of producing the same results. When faced with the disappointment that ultimately comes from such misplaced focus, my response was to play the role of both victim and perpetrator and drive myself deeper into the darkness for awhile.

The problem is that I was building my life on sand.

My Midwestern family often vacationed in cities along the Florida coast. Being landlocked the rest of the year, the beach was one of our favorite things about vacation. Even as a small child who saw the ocean once a year, I quickly figured out that my sand creations would be destroyed by waves if I built them too close to the water. I also remember getting frustrated because the sand was hard to pack firm and often fell in on itself. And should a rogue foot come into contact with it, my masterpiece would quickly and easily crumble.

In my life, however, it took quite a bit longer to figure out the parallel.

I’ve worked hard to improve and strengthen my faith and my relationship with God as well as my life. It makes me happy that, though I might not recall which specific scriptures they are, stuff I’ve read in the Good Book is what comes to mind often as I go throughout my days. For awhile I prayed that praying would come easier to me; now I find I pray almost all the time. My focus is God. I’ve made God my foundation and I’m building my life on his Truth. It’s a much better life, a sturdier life. God is my rock, my root, my guaranteed thing.

God doesn’t let me down, God doesn’t disappoint. If I feel like he has, it probably means I didn’t get something I wanted, or the way I thought I wanted it. When God is my focus, I can take life as it is, not as I think I’d like it to be. With all my trust in God, the people, places and things around me can’t knock me down so easily. With my foundation on God’s solid rock, the devil can kick me as much as he wants, but he will walk away bruised.

So when I feel more susceptible to attack, it’s time to check my focus. If my peace is disturbed around certain people or by what I know to be false perceptions, it’s time to check my focus. If I’m spending more time thinking about peripheral things than meditating on God’s Word and will for my life... it’s time to check my focus. What am I looking at here – God or something else?

The best way to know is to crack the Good Book and see if I’m immersed in the light and living in truth on God’s firm foundation, or if I’ve allowed myself to build on some sand.

“These words I speak to you are not incidental additions to your life, homeowner improvements to your standard of living. They are foundational words, words to build a life on. If you work these words into your life, you are like a smart carpenter who built his house on solid rock. Rain poured down, the river flooded, a tornado hit – but nothing moved that house. It was fixed to the rock.

But if you just use my words in Bible studies and don’t work them into your life, you are like a stupid carpenter who built his house on the sandy beach. When a storm rolled in and the waves came up, it collapsed like a house of cards.” (Matt. 7:24-27; MSG)

God, I pray that I continue to build my life upon you, that I may be unshakable, fixed to your truth. When the enemy strikes, help me to stand firm as I yell the battle cry, “I will not be moved!”

Amen. :D