Don’t they just aggravate you? The whys of daily existence are always there. If we could just get a few answers then we could understand and make some sense of life and what’s happening. It would then be better or at least that’s what we tell ourselves.
I used to have in my mind a list of questions to ask God when I saw him. The theological problems with all of this are beyond the scope of this article (all that means is humor me for a moment). I have since abandoned that notion but I will try to recreate some of them. They included: why are innocent babies born with aids or cancer? Why does the earth tilt? Are Murphy’s laws laws or are they just observations of just the way it is? Why are some people healed and others not? You get the drift. I asked a group of men recently what question would they ask God if they only had one? One replied he wanted to know why Jesus was here only 331/2 years with only 31/2 years of ministry? Wouldn’t more time be better? (He got away with two questions. That’s a baptist for ya). How about you what would you ask God?
These questions arise when our expectations of how things should be or go are unmet or not realized.
Last Friday evening Lizzy and I went to pizza place for carry-out. We discussed our order and then waited for it to come out of the oven. We ordered a pepperoni lovers, hand tossed pizza. It was ready and we took it home from Rincon. Got drinks and plates ready opened the box and there is a meat lover’s pan inside. I checked the receipt and it showed pepperoni lovers. What happened? So I called the store and they were sorry and would exchange it but I was 15 to 20 minutes away and that again back home. I did not want to go there. They were sorry but I was still disappointed. Lizzy did not want sausage on her pizza that was the reason for the pepperoni lover’s. No, we did not check it before we left the store. Yes, we should have checked it before we left the store if it was that important. Question as to why still unanswered so we ate it anyway. She picked off the sausage and I got extra. It even left some for Geoff, Carolyn and Barbara when they got home.
Unanswered questions for illness, accidents, injuries, blessings and non-blessings sometimes plague us. Even questions as to why something did NOT happen to me or my family can haunt us. Jeremiah the “crying prophet” wondered why the people would not listen to God’s message to escape the impending destruction. I think the same reason teens don’t listen to parents. Maybe we have done all the right things, made all the right moves and our plans have fallen through for unexplained, unseen and unknown reasons. Often that leads to frantic prayers for God to do something or answer our questions right then. Job had questions. Boy did he have questions but God answered his questions NOT. Job did all the right things the right way and still his plans went down the tube through no fault of his. Unanswered Questions, lead us to blame God, to wonder if he cares, to wonder if he exists. Pete Wilson in his book Putting plan B into Action writes,
When our Plan A fails and Plan B overtakes us, we must be willing to let go of our dreams and take hold of God’s plan for our lives—whether we understand or not. Reality is not as simple as we try to make it. We don’t always have the answers but God is still God. We are called to be faithful and worship Him for who He is, even when it seems He has is not coming through the way we hoped [answers or actions]. Knowing Him for who he is will always be more valuable than any dream we could ask Him to fulfill.
You may have more questions than answers, but will you still trust God enough to seek Him in the middle of your Plan B? Are you willing to abandon your dreams in order to receive the life he has dreamed for you? Job did and God blessed him twice as much as before. No answers just divine action beyond his wildest dreams. By the way I have decided I won’t have any questions to ask God fore I will know Him in His fullness and that will be enough!
Friday, May 27, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
Themes are a part...
...Of God’s speaking. For me the theme is the evidence God is speaking and evidence of how dense I am. This week the theme has been a confirmation of a heart dream from many years ago.
It began when an individual said to me as they left worship, “thanks for letting me come.” I didn’t know how to respond so I said, “that’s what we are here for it’s my honor.” On the other side that sounds dumb. Have you wished for a mulligan (golf term for a do-over) to go back and say something more profound or intellectual or just less STUPID? I don’t know what I would say instead because thinking back no one has ever said that to me before. Thankfulness for the opportunity to go to church has not been expressed like that before. But it’s good, very good.
Later, in a leadership team meeting one of our leaders affirmed how much they look forward to worship at Crossroads (a leader better say that :p). Worship on Sunday is their home away from home. His wife then confirmed as only a wife can do that has not always been the case in their life together. So, I hid those words in my heart.
Tuesday I spoke to a mom of a family that had been away for two weeks just to touch base, let them know I had missed them and encourage. She told me of their situation and then said even the kids were sad they had not come to church. They liked coming and it was no problem to get them out the door to come. Of course that put a smile on Mom’s face because that has been her heart!
Heart dreams are funny things. Sometimes they are so personal that you never speak of them, so impossible that you might even believe God cannot pull them off and so unusual that you have never seen it really happen. These heart dreams require us to trust God's integrity when you can't see HIS activity. I am/we are here and now, taste, touch and feel people. That is horizontal awareness. The Kingdom of God is vertical. Heart dreams are dependent upon vertical awareness and God activity. One of my heart dreams in planting a church was for the creation of an environment where folks would like to come. Not from habit, duty or requirement but participating because they liked it and missed it when not there. I knew for me that had become true (it has not always been so in the past). That has been the theme God has been speaking this week. Saying to me through other people that he has made that happen. I had been wondering if it was so or could be so.
How about that, my heart’s desire met!
What about you how vertically aware are you?
What theme is God speaking in your life?
It began when an individual said to me as they left worship, “thanks for letting me come.” I didn’t know how to respond so I said, “that’s what we are here for it’s my honor.” On the other side that sounds dumb. Have you wished for a mulligan (golf term for a do-over) to go back and say something more profound or intellectual or just less STUPID? I don’t know what I would say instead because thinking back no one has ever said that to me before. Thankfulness for the opportunity to go to church has not been expressed like that before. But it’s good, very good.
Later, in a leadership team meeting one of our leaders affirmed how much they look forward to worship at Crossroads (a leader better say that :p). Worship on Sunday is their home away from home. His wife then confirmed as only a wife can do that has not always been the case in their life together. So, I hid those words in my heart.
Tuesday I spoke to a mom of a family that had been away for two weeks just to touch base, let them know I had missed them and encourage. She told me of their situation and then said even the kids were sad they had not come to church. They liked coming and it was no problem to get them out the door to come. Of course that put a smile on Mom’s face because that has been her heart!
Heart dreams are funny things. Sometimes they are so personal that you never speak of them, so impossible that you might even believe God cannot pull them off and so unusual that you have never seen it really happen. These heart dreams require us to trust God's integrity when you can't see HIS activity. I am/we are here and now, taste, touch and feel people. That is horizontal awareness. The Kingdom of God is vertical. Heart dreams are dependent upon vertical awareness and God activity. One of my heart dreams in planting a church was for the creation of an environment where folks would like to come. Not from habit, duty or requirement but participating because they liked it and missed it when not there. I knew for me that had become true (it has not always been so in the past). That has been the theme God has been speaking this week. Saying to me through other people that he has made that happen. I had been wondering if it was so or could be so.
How about that, my heart’s desire met!
What about you how vertically aware are you?
What theme is God speaking in your life?
Thursday, May 12, 2011
It's the Little Things...
That make all the difference.
In a pre-marital counseling session some time ago a bride-to-be remarked in reference to fighting that it is the little things that lead to the biggest arguments. She was so right. It’s never a really important issue that starts the ball but simple things like a glass left on a table, a towel on the floor, toothpaste squeezed from the middle, lights left on you know the IMPORTANT stuff. It’s those things that make for the biggest fights between people not just couples. More feelings are hurt and more pain inflicted by the little things than we want to remember. However, I want to suggest another side to the little things.
It is the little things that make the most difference. This past weekend I was watching as Elizabeth graduated from college walking across the platform and receiving her diploma almost skipping down the grass isle back to her seat. I was proud. That surprised me. What did I have to be proud about? I didn’t do any of the work or live through the actual experience but I was proud for her. I probably was not as proud at my own graduations as I was Saturday for my oldest child. It was a simple thing that made the difference.
Sunday was Mother’s day and my brother was here. My Mother said it was the first time in 25+ years that we had been together as a family with her on Mother’s day. I had no idea it had been so long. Barbara’s Mother Gail was here as well on Mother’s day. Just being together on Mother’s day a simple thing really it made a difference.
Sunday evening the whole clan went to River Street to see the WWII monument. My brother and I had purchased a memorial brick for my Father as he is a WWII vet. We had not told him about it. So, we waited until both of us were here to go and see it. My Father was stunned. So much so that he told all that would talk to him (stranger, family, friend, post, tree plant you get it)that he had a brick with his name on it. I had no idea. It’s just a brick with his name on it. It’s the little things that make the difference.
Sunday morning I spoke from Matthew 15 regarding the Canannite woman who approached Jesus to heal her daughter. It was not easy gaining access and getting past all of the cultural issues to get to Jesus but she did through persistence and pestering. It’s a simple story not very long and as I lived with it through the week a simple, powerful fact emerged in my mind. This woman had no cultural, relational, spiritual, right to approach Jesus, speak to him much less ask for anything. But she was desperate and in the end simply says on her knees after the verbal sparring and pushing for position “Lord, help me.”
How simple is that?
What struck me is she recognized who she was who she was talking to and she appealed not from her position or power or gifts or ability but to the character of Christ for her help. She came to him, “Lord, help me.” Jesus says to her, “you have great faith,” and her daughter was healed. I read a devotional from Revelation 2 by Max Lucado that clicked this together. What I have not gotten over is at the great judgment I will be like this woman and have nothing, no right, no achievement no nothing by which to appear before the Creator of the universe. All I will have is the character of Christ to count on. The hope of Grace extended from the Savior to save me. Nothing more, nothing less just like this woman and just like this woman He will save me because of faith. The character of Christ I can count on it. Simple isn’t it?
It’s the little things that make all the difference!
In a pre-marital counseling session some time ago a bride-to-be remarked in reference to fighting that it is the little things that lead to the biggest arguments. She was so right. It’s never a really important issue that starts the ball but simple things like a glass left on a table, a towel on the floor, toothpaste squeezed from the middle, lights left on you know the IMPORTANT stuff. It’s those things that make for the biggest fights between people not just couples. More feelings are hurt and more pain inflicted by the little things than we want to remember. However, I want to suggest another side to the little things.
It is the little things that make the most difference. This past weekend I was watching as Elizabeth graduated from college walking across the platform and receiving her diploma almost skipping down the grass isle back to her seat. I was proud. That surprised me. What did I have to be proud about? I didn’t do any of the work or live through the actual experience but I was proud for her. I probably was not as proud at my own graduations as I was Saturday for my oldest child. It was a simple thing that made the difference.
Sunday was Mother’s day and my brother was here. My Mother said it was the first time in 25+ years that we had been together as a family with her on Mother’s day. I had no idea it had been so long. Barbara’s Mother Gail was here as well on Mother’s day. Just being together on Mother’s day a simple thing really it made a difference.
Sunday evening the whole clan went to River Street to see the WWII monument. My brother and I had purchased a memorial brick for my Father as he is a WWII vet. We had not told him about it. So, we waited until both of us were here to go and see it. My Father was stunned. So much so that he told all that would talk to him (stranger, family, friend, post, tree plant you get it)that he had a brick with his name on it. I had no idea. It’s just a brick with his name on it. It’s the little things that make the difference.
Sunday morning I spoke from Matthew 15 regarding the Canannite woman who approached Jesus to heal her daughter. It was not easy gaining access and getting past all of the cultural issues to get to Jesus but she did through persistence and pestering. It’s a simple story not very long and as I lived with it through the week a simple, powerful fact emerged in my mind. This woman had no cultural, relational, spiritual, right to approach Jesus, speak to him much less ask for anything. But she was desperate and in the end simply says on her knees after the verbal sparring and pushing for position “Lord, help me.”
How simple is that?
What struck me is she recognized who she was who she was talking to and she appealed not from her position or power or gifts or ability but to the character of Christ for her help. She came to him, “Lord, help me.” Jesus says to her, “you have great faith,” and her daughter was healed. I read a devotional from Revelation 2 by Max Lucado that clicked this together. What I have not gotten over is at the great judgment I will be like this woman and have nothing, no right, no achievement no nothing by which to appear before the Creator of the universe. All I will have is the character of Christ to count on. The hope of Grace extended from the Savior to save me. Nothing more, nothing less just like this woman and just like this woman He will save me because of faith. The character of Christ I can count on it. Simple isn’t it?
It’s the little things that make all the difference!
Thursday, May 5, 2011
I'm not sure at all...
How to respond to the events this week in the death of Osama bin Laden.
One part of me gave a fist pump and felt good when I heard the news Sunday night late. However as the week as progressed, I am more conflicted as another part of me wonders how I can feel good about the death of another human being?
I wanted to join the crowds in Washington D.C. and chant USA, USA, USA in a victory celebration but as time has passed I am ashamed that I would want to do so. I have remembered the demonstrations in some parts of the world after the twin towers fell, reminded of images of American bodies dragged through the street in a victory celebration and for me to celebrate one individual’s death is to be the same as those images. I am called to be different.
How different is that to be?
Different to have compassion for children who now have no father or a wife who now has no husband, different to consider the loss of an opportunity for repentance or to hear for the first time or another time the Gospel, different to rejoice over a great evil being removed from our world through hard, difficult painstaking work by many, many people over a decade, different to take the high road in offering proof rather than the easy way. Different to say thank you to the intelligence community and military of our nation and to wish they did not have to have that job. Different to stay in a balance between justice and mercy, truth and grace, lost and found.
I am called to be different like Jesus; to pray for those who persecute me, to laugh with those who laugh and mourn with those who mourn. To bless rather than curse and to heal rather than hurt. To expect justice and holiness and extend grace and mercy to be conflicted with the way things are and they way they should be and the way they will be. To remember I am being made different because I am not of this world but simply in this world. I am made for eternity, different.
Different has a price to be paid. Some may not see me as patriotic enough or soft on terrorism and others at the same moment will say I am too patriotic and lacking mercy. Different has no easy middle ground. It is a tough place to stand and take a stand. In fact different like I’m talking got one man killed.
HE was different. So different that on the third day he got up again. That’s the kind of different that makes a difference.
As you can tell, I’m still conflicted. That makes me different and yet maybe not as different as I think.
One part of me gave a fist pump and felt good when I heard the news Sunday night late. However as the week as progressed, I am more conflicted as another part of me wonders how I can feel good about the death of another human being?
I wanted to join the crowds in Washington D.C. and chant USA, USA, USA in a victory celebration but as time has passed I am ashamed that I would want to do so. I have remembered the demonstrations in some parts of the world after the twin towers fell, reminded of images of American bodies dragged through the street in a victory celebration and for me to celebrate one individual’s death is to be the same as those images. I am called to be different.
How different is that to be?
Different to have compassion for children who now have no father or a wife who now has no husband, different to consider the loss of an opportunity for repentance or to hear for the first time or another time the Gospel, different to rejoice over a great evil being removed from our world through hard, difficult painstaking work by many, many people over a decade, different to take the high road in offering proof rather than the easy way. Different to say thank you to the intelligence community and military of our nation and to wish they did not have to have that job. Different to stay in a balance between justice and mercy, truth and grace, lost and found.
I am called to be different like Jesus; to pray for those who persecute me, to laugh with those who laugh and mourn with those who mourn. To bless rather than curse and to heal rather than hurt. To expect justice and holiness and extend grace and mercy to be conflicted with the way things are and they way they should be and the way they will be. To remember I am being made different because I am not of this world but simply in this world. I am made for eternity, different.
Different has a price to be paid. Some may not see me as patriotic enough or soft on terrorism and others at the same moment will say I am too patriotic and lacking mercy. Different has no easy middle ground. It is a tough place to stand and take a stand. In fact different like I’m talking got one man killed.
HE was different. So different that on the third day he got up again. That’s the kind of different that makes a difference.
As you can tell, I’m still conflicted. That makes me different and yet maybe not as different as I think.
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