When a Flannelgraph Comes To Life

“Blessed be the name of God forever and ever, for wisdom and power belong to Him. It is He who reveals the profound and hidden things; He knows what is in the darkness, and the light dwells with Him.”—Daniel 2:20, 22, The Voice

Long before I saw that Light, there was something about the life of Daniel that grabbed my attention. Maybe it was the mesmerizing Sunday School flannelgraph story (when many others seemed boring) of a young man who somehow managed to go untouched after being thrown in a lion’s den. “Woah, who does that?!” Maybe it was all-state chorus in high school, when two out of a dozen or so songs pertaining to Daniel stuck to my ribs—both of them spirituals, including one about his closest companions made famous by Louis Armstrong: “Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego.” In fact, Daniel’s legendary bravery and awesomeness were inspirations for naming our son after him. 

Somehow, many years after that day I saw the Light, Daniel remained pretty much stuck on a flannelgraph—a childhood hero of coolness. The pages of his Old Testament story were white and crisp. Until one day, someone suggested we start the year off by embarking on what is known as a “Daniel Fast,” which if you like to eat meat and pizza and ice cream is not the definition of coolness at all. The purpose was simply to follow Daniel’s example and detox of unhealthy things in body, mind, and heart, and use the time to draw closer to God rather than your dinner plate or any other rival affection.

From “Woah, who does that?!” was added “Who is this guy?” Inquiring minds needed to know, and to my joy and surprise, those clean, crisp Old Testament pages of Daniel’s story soon became a practical roadmap for this Walk more than 2,500 years later.  No longer just a flannelgraph hero, Daniel began to offer up all sorts of power bar nuggets for living (and you will, no doubt, find more than these) that can be carried along every step of the Journey...

“For whatever was written in earlier times was written for our instruction, so that through endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope and overflow with confidence in His promises.” (Romans 15:4, Amplified)

1. Stay the good course of the narrow road. Above all else in his life story, Daniel was uncompromising in His love for God. He refused to pursue (ingest, if you will) the things the world says really matter. Instead, because you're His kid now, kingdom priorities matter, and here is one who has triumphantly gone before you as proof.
2. Live out loud beyond Sunday. Daniel didn’t only fast on veggies and fruit as a sign of his uncompromising devotion to God, but his whole lifestyle was fasted: his attitude, his integrity, his devotion and spiritual disciplines in the routine and stresses of each day were cultivated to be set apart for God. Sunday morning worship is great, but remember to use it as a relaunching pad for the next six.
3. Be relational, not religious. Daniel had an attractive regular rhythm of prayer and worship that seemed to be more like breathing in and breathing out rather than some type of churchy exercise. It was fire to his bones, especially when the going got tough. So, wherever you are, keep the Divine conversation flowing.
4. Be wise about who you run with. Daniel ran with likeminded uncompromising companions: the aforementioned Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. And his lifestyle was noted by friend and foe alike as one marked by trustworthiness, honesty, and reliability. These are the kind of words you want etched on your headstone.
5. Keep pointing Up, and building up others. Daniel walked out life in humility—he was a team player and not a glory-seeker. He lived in, and led others with, integrity. And he gave God alone—not his own wits or abilities—all the glory, all the time. If there were more of this, our culture wouldn't be in such a mess. But it always begins with one.
6. Cultivate leaving it all, big and small, in God’s hands. A no-brainer that needs frequent revisiting, and when the temptation to whine is strong, it’s good to be able to look at Daniel’s example of trusting God no matter what and no matter how bleak the circumstance. He was obedient to God regardless of cultural pressures, and what was really outrageous is that he practiced interceding for others—including those who were not very God-like at all, so that God would be glorified in and through them regardless.

“Woah, who does that?” and “Who is this guy?”

The answer can be found by looking in the mirror. Because like us, Daniel was far from perfect, but his story cheers us on by example that we, too, can not only see the Light and say we love God, but we can actually and regularly live out what we say we believe:

“And you, beloved, are the light of the world. A city built on a hilltop cannot be hidden. Similarly it would be silly to light a lamp and then hide it under a bowl. When someone lights a lamp, she puts it on a table or a desk or a chair, and the light illumines the entire house.You are like that illuminating light. Let your light shine everywhere you go, that you may illumine creation, so men and women everywhere may see your good actions, may see creation at its fullest, may see your devotion to Me, and may turn and praise your Father in heaven because of it.” (Matthew 5:14-16, The Voice)

“There is a difference between what we believe and what we think we believe. You can determine what you actually believe and what you think you believe by observing what you do.”—Tyler Johnson

I Will....Will I?

"I will look up for there is none above You; I will bow down to tell You that I need You...I will look back and see that You are faithful; I look ahead believing You are able..."—Elevation Worship

“I will” is perhaps the highest, most radical form of praise because its foundation is nothing more than faith in knowing what and Who you've come to believe is true. It is a head-on collision with all the negative events, conversations, and situations that work overtime to scream doubt and fear in your ear. 

“I will” praise doesn’t merely mouth words of a song and call it a day—it chooses to grab on to the fact that just as God has proven Himself faithful and loving time and time again, He is just as active and faithful right now, even in the midst of a day, a week, a season in which you really want to “press delete and restart.”

It's good to know that even though the spring pollen has showered a blanket of sleepiness, "I will" praise is still effective when quietly internalized. But it is most potent, and only God knows why, when verbalized—whether with a bunch of other people this morning in church, or alone at the kitchen table waiting for the java to kick in, or cruising down the road with all windows down. Something mysteriously freeing, faith-building, healing, and even contagious happens when we choose to look up, trust, and praise the One whose love for us knows no bounds—or "bad" days.

For all who come this way today, let the praises ring...

"My heart is committed, O God: I will sing

I will sing praises with great affection

And pledge my whole soul to the singing.

Wake up the harp and lyre, and strum the strings;

I will stir the sleepy dawn from slumber!

I will stand and offer You my thanks, Eternal One,

in the presence of others;

I will sing of Your greatness among the nations,

no matter where I am

For Your amazing love soars overhead far into the heavens;

Your truth rises up to the clouds where passing light bends.

O God, that You would be lifted up above the heavens in the hearts of Your people

Until the whole world knows Your glory."

—Psalm 108:1-5, The Voice

[ADAPTED FROM  3-2-14]

A Royal Piece of Work

[photo: izismile.com]

"See what an incredible quality of love the Father has shown to us, that we would be permitted to be named and called and counted the children of God! And so we are!"
(1 John 3:1, Amplified)

Sometimes, quite often really, you have to remind yourself that the moment you said "I believe!" and stepped into that beautiful, never-ending Kingdom, you became Royal family; and because of that, you will always have a place at the greatest banqueting table of them all.

Always. No matter what kind of day, week, or past 30 minutes it's been, now that you are His and He is yours, God won't love you and me any more or any less according to our performance to try to earn that seat at His table. Or His lap. Or His grip. Because just as we were saved by God's grace alone, and not by anything we could ever do, or think of, or scheme to earn it, so it is with our mind-blowing identity as an adopted son or daughter of the King of the universe. 

God set this truth in place before anyone thought it was a good idea: Family love can't be earned. It just is. 

Most sunny days, we get that. But a rainy Sunday morning in New England during what has been a rather gray first month of spring is a reminder that it doesn't take much to cloud moods and dampen perspective on all sorts of things, including that Divine brain pretzel of being adopted into Royalty. Performance, after all, is a persistent bugger. It tries really hard to win at playing king of the hill. Its voice is loud because we are born into a culture that celebrates working hard to earn something, to perform in some way to get the approval of bosses, peers, friends, and family. It can begin with the subtlety of the message of a childhood prayer: "...God bless mommy and daddy, and help me to be a good boy. Amen." Even at a wee age, the reinforcing idea is do the right things, and mom and dad—and God—will approve of you...and if you don't, all bets are off.

For such a good, commendable, desired habit and character trait that works perfectly well in just about every single area of life, it's little wonder that many who have been adopted into Royalty continually wrestle with the thought that when it comes to the Father's love, none of that performance stuff works. It's not a maturity weakness as much as it is the reality of that brain pretzel causing frequent Truth disconnects en route to the heart.

Perhaps not coincidentally, the most frequently sung worship song around the world today is this:

"You're a good, good Father; it's who You are... 

And I'm loved by You, it's who I am...

Love so undeniable I can hardly speak;

Peace so unexplainable, I can hardly think; 

As You call me deeper still into Love..."

These are soul-stirring lyrics that resonate across cultures and generations because they are birthed in and reinforce the reality of some pretty amazing words from long ago. The performance battle, it seems, is timeless:

"For it is by grace [God’s remarkable compassion and favor drawing you to Christ] that you have been saved [actually delivered from judgment and given eternal life] through faith. And this [salvation] is not of yourselves [not through your own effort], but it is the [undeserved, gracious] gift of God; not as a result of [your] works [nor your attempts to keep the Law], so that no one will [be able to] boast or take credit in any way [for his salvation]. For we are His workmanship [His own master work, a work of art], created in Christ Jesus [reborn from above—spiritually transformed, renewed, ready to be used] for good works, which God prepared [for us] beforehand [taking paths which He set], so that we would walk in them [living the good life which He prearranged and made ready for us]."

—Ephesians 2:8-10, Amplified

Rainy Sunday or sunny Wednesday, none of us can read, hear, and swallow that truth enough, or be reminded enough that the only definition of "performance" that matters is learning to follow in my Father's footsteps. It's even a cool thing to say, 'I am a piece of work'—not just to bless me and my own little world either, but....as heaven's poetry etched on lives created in Jesus, to accomplish the good works God arranged long ago.

For all who come this way, so be it, Lord.

"The great thing is to be found at one's post as a child of God, living each day as though it were our last, but planning as though the world might last a hundred years." (C.S. Lewis)

The Right Train of Thought

"Wait and hope for and expect the Lord; be brave and of good courage, and let your heart be stout and enduring. Yes, wait for and hope for and expect the Lord." (Psalm 27:14, Amplified  Classic)

Every day, huge and pretty scary issues occupy the headlines. Troubling, yes. But what is strange is that, when the Maker of the universe is living on the inside, there is often this peaceful current flowing beneath the turmoil that says to the soul, "God's got this. This is the day the Lord has made, so rejoice and be glad in it."

It has nothing to do with being oblivious to the reality of things, or not praying about them, and everything to do with that mysterious heaven-sent kryptonite known as "waiting" on the Lord—a reverential trust that the God who made you and everything else is enormous in goodness and presence; He sees, knows, understands, and is not preoccupied with something or someplace else.

So, why is it that the weight of the little things in the everyday life, not the huge and pretty scary world issues, can cause a weariness that can prompt temptations of pulling off the Highway of Holiness to some side road to see where that might lead? Whether it is a fear of the unknown, of a tough decision to be made, of a bill to be paid when resources are low, or that a wounded moment of the past is beyond repair, these and many more relatively little things can loom larger than North Korea because they not only hit close to home, the lies and accusations and doubts try to break in and raid our spiritual and emotional refrigerator of all resources of sustenance.

And yet, the Psalmist sings it again:

"Wait and hope for and expect the Lord;

be brave and of good courage, and let your heart be stout and enduring..."

Because even when it feels like your refrigerator of hope is being raided, it's good to know that God is enormous in goodness and presence in every circumstance, that waiting doesn't mean doing nothing, and that in God's economy, it looks much more wonderfully active than we could imagine...

..."Think of waiting for a train. When you wait you may be still, standing or sitting, but you are not passive. You are watching, listening. Your eyes follow the parallel lines of the tracks into the distance looking for the train to come chugging in. You listen for the roar of the engine, the clanking of the cars, and the tones of the train’s whistle. Even as your body rests on the platform your senses are alert and your mind active. This is what it should be like to wait on the Lord too. Sometimes it is stillness, but in the stillness there is alertness and heightened sensitivity."—Barnabas Piper, from "Patience Isn't Passive"

To which the Psalmist might point forward to a prophet's familiar words of encouragement this day, and for Monday and the ones to follow, to be read and absorbed as if for the first time—the right train of thought—whether the "waiting" is for stuff close to home or on the world stage:

"The everlasting God, the creator of the whole world, never gets tired or weary...God strengthens the weary and gives vitality to those worn down by age and care. Young people will get tired; strapping young men will stumble and fall...but those who trust in [wait on] the Eternal One will regain their strength.They will soar on wings of eagles. They will run—never winded, never weary. They will walk—never tired, never faint."  (Isaiah 40:28-31, The Voice translation)