A Better Way

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep…”  

Robert Frost penned these words about the woods at night, but this is also what the woods look like just as the day’s first beams of sunlight reach over the horizon. It’s a peaceful picture of hope and possibilities and wonder for a new day… and then the rest of those verses begin to sink in: 

“But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.”

And with mug of hot beverage in hand and eyelids barely open, as thoughts of the new day’s responsibilities and cares invade the view, it can be easy to let hope be tempered by “How am I going to get it all done?,” or possibilities by the prospect of a to-do list that seems overwhelming, or wonder to be elbowed by endless “what ifs?”

But there is a more excellent way!…Keep staring at the woods lovely, dark and deep but head in a different direction:

 

Thank You that “I lay down and slept safely; I awakened, for You sustained me.” (Psalm 3:5)

Thank You that no matter what the headlines say, “This is the day that You have made, so I will rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24)

Thank You that You alone “give life and breath to everything, and satisfy every need.” (Acts 17:25)

Thank You that no matter what others think of me or I think of myself, that in Your eyes, “I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:14)

“Thanksgiving is worry’s kryptonite. You can’t worry if you’re giving thanks." — Matt Chandler

Thank You for the “incredible quality of love You have 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)

Thank You that even when I feel alone — even in a crowd — I’m not because Your name is “God with us” and You have promised “never will I leave you, never will I abandon you.” (Hebrews 13:5)

Thank You that no matter what I feel, I know I can trust You because “it is impossible for God to lie.” (Hebrews 6:18)

Thank You that You are “not a human who changes his mind. Whatever You promise, You do; You speak, and it is done.” (Numbers 23:19)

Thank You that no matter what it may look like, “The earth belongs to You, and everything in it — the world and all its people.” (Psalm 24:1)

Thank You for the reminder that being thankful “strengthens my faith.” (Colossians 2:6-7)

And thank You especially that no matter what, You never quit on anything, that “You are good and Your love endures forever.” (Psalm 136:1)

“O God, my heart is quiet and confident. No wonder I can sing Your praises! Rouse yourself, my soul! Arise, O harp and lyre! Let us greet the dawn with song! I will thank You publicly throughout the land. I will sing Your praises among the nations. Your kindness and love are as vast as the heavens. Your faithfulness is higher than the skies!” (Psalm 57:7-10)

Loving Life

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“…let us not love merely in theory with word or with tongue, giving lip service to compassion, but in action and in truth—in practice and in sincerity, because practical acts of love are more than words.”—1 John 3:18, Amplified

Timely words from the journal…

The other day, I ran into an old friend who owns a restaurant. He said it was time for us to get together and catch up because he thought we might have more in common that we realized. I suggested meeting at his restaurant but then quickly cut off the idea, “Oh right, you’ll be too busy.” But my friend’s response was as from Heaven itself. “I only want to serve. And I’m not talking about waiting on tables.”

When reading through the gospels, if you had to give a description of how Jesus walked in love, then humility, honor and servanthood would surely be near the top of the list. And He would say, right on: “the Son of Man came not to be waited on but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many—the price paid to set them free.” (Matthew 20:28) Paul in his letter to the church at Philippi puts an exclamation point on it: “Jesus has always been as God is. But He did not hold to His rights as God. He put aside everything that belonged to Him and made Himself the same as a servant who is owned by someone.” (Philippians 2:6-7)

Foot washing, for example. In Jesus’ day, washing someone’s feet was such a low, dirty task, it was left to a servant or a slave to do it—a respectable person would never stoop so low. But on the night of the Last Supper, out came the basin, water and towels as Jesus flipped the tables on His disciples (then and now) once more:

“I am your example; keep doing what I do...

...I tell you the truth: a servant is not greater than the master.

Those who are sent are not greater than the one who sends them.”—John 13:15-16

Opportunities to love and serve—big ones, but especially the small ones no one really wants to do or notices—await us every day. And each time, it will be easy to say to ourselves, “too busy” or “don’t have the time” or “let someone else do it who seems better qualified.”

It is better to be like my friend. It is even better to remember that I am not my own but I am “owned by Someone,” to  step into every day thinking not “What’s in it for me?” but “What’s in it for Thee?”

“You have not lived today until you have done something for someone who can never repay you.”—John Bunyan

Football, Mom and the 'It'

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"I was glad when they said to me, 'Let us go to the house of the Lord!' And now, here we are, standing inside your gates, O Jerusalem." (Psalm 122:1, New Living Translation)

Among the many things the pandemic has revealed is something God has been trying to get through to us believers for centuries: worship of the living God is not confined to a sometimes closed or quasi-opened building. We are all mobile temples who carry His presence in us and with us wherever we go. We were meant to worship God at any time, anywhere. But at the same time, God also designed the purposeful gathering of His family in a particular location to be something akin to a stick of dynamite. It's "where the tribes go up"— different people from different neighborhoods, backgrounds, and interests with one common purpose, to...

...Worship the Lord who alone gives us life and breath and everything else we need.

Whether spaced apart and with masks on now or shoulder to shoulder once more when the pandemic passes, sparks of goodness and encouragement and faith-building occur when iron sharpens iron, elbows rub elbows, and completely different people who may never hang out with one another on a regular basis are of one mind about the incredible, daily reality of the living God working in their lives. It’s what happens when the dynamite Spirit of the living God swoops in and galvanizes it all, refreshing and re-energizing a bunch of imperfect people to go out the door and be the Church again for another week, wherever that may be.

If we’re not careful, though, doing all of that every Sunday can become routine and begin to feel like you’re going through the motions. Good. Not bad. But mostly feeling like you’re doing your Christian thing. Life gets messy and can preoccupy.  And then, “Oh look, here comes another Monday… “And sometimes, you’re reminded that it also means dealing with, well, people, and the idea of avoiding that can sound really appealing.

And so God invented football! And Super Bowl Sunday is a good day to be awakened and even humbled a bit….

Because millions of people really love football. They can't wait for Sunday. They think about "it" all week long, even in the midst of their daily stresses and routine. "It" keeps them going until that hour on Sunday afternoon when they can either enter the building with thousands of others or enter it vicariously through a 48-inch flat screen. The "it" of the game may mean one thing to one fan and another thing to someone else, but whatever "it" is, "it" has captivated their collective attention, stirred their expectancy and anticipation, and they cannot wait.

Whenever the whole idea of gathering in a building or joining the tribe online on any given Sunday feels a bit routine, it is good to think of the expectancy of the football fan. Better than that, unlike football, it is good to know that there is one very definable and powerful "it" that believers can always cling to and that should jolt alive any ho-hum Sunday into a day of worship expectancy and anticipation:

The cross and the empty tomb.

Even though none of us may ever fully understand the mystery of it all in this lifetime, when worship/church routine tries to creep in, all we have to do is look to the cross once more. That's “it!" Because through that cross, and Jesus' final gasping words on behalf of all who would believe — “It is finished! — something more amazing than the best football game ever played took place: the veil of separation between us and God was ripped open once and for all. Not only that, we are no longer destined for an eternity of death because the Savior of the world didn’t stay in the tomb but rose to life again and went back Home to be with His Father. And to this very day, He continues to intercede for us as we go on our daily journey.

This grandest of all “it” means we can regularly and always be in God's presence in every situation, and can approach Him with boldness and confidence. Every single minute of every single day... the God who always says "Yes" to His own promises, the God who has and still does the impossible, for Whom nothing is too difficult, and Who is the God of all comfort and wisdom.

I am reminded of my mom in her golden years, when walking and standing too long were painful and slow. It would take her forever to get from the car to her seat in church each Sunday, but nothing was going to stop her. And when the songs of praise and worship began, she wanted to be helped to her feet so she could grab the chair in front of her with one hand and have the other free for expressing her love for Jesus…

"Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owe”…it’s more than a great song to sing, it’s a battle cry to follow the lead of the endlessly passionate football fan (and my mom)  and always be eager to worship with our very lives, both together and one-on-one, every single Sunday and especially all the Mondays-through-Saturdays to come. 

"Salvation is not mainly the forgiveness of sins, but mainly the fellowship of Jesus. Forgiveness gets everything out of the way so this can happen. If this fellowship is not all-satisfying, there is no great salvation. If Christ is gloomy, or evenly calmly stoical, eternity will be a long, long sigh." —John Piper

A Firehouse Parable

No matter how old you are, there seem to be certain snapshots from your childhood that are seared in your memory. You know. The ones that were so traumatic at the time and that the enemy to this day still tries to use to get you to doubt the goodness of God. Not to be outdone, however, God uses the same snapshots to, as a modern song says, “take what the enemy meant for evil and turn them for good.”...

When I was about 5, I had lots of fun memories of following my dad to the town fire station on Saturday mornings. Big trucks that made a lot of noise. Marveling at the size of hoses. The chicken barbecues and the auctions. And because dad was a captain with the department, there was one Saturday that topped them all—when I got to ride in the cab when he went to pick up the new pumper. I remember the feeling of being high above the ground and on top of the world.

Then one Saturday, while mom was out shopping, the fire alarm sounded. Dad had to go. And I had to go with him. Up to a point. When we got to the firehouse, he said I couldn’t come with him this time but that he’d be back soon. The sirens, the commotion, guys racing to get their gear on, and then disappearing down the road was scary enough—but not as scary as being left alone by dad. But I was never really alone because he put me in the care of a family friend who was station manager for the day. He gave me peanuts and a soda and we turned on the black and white TV to watch cartoons as a distraction that worked really well. He stayed right there with me until dad came back just as he promised, picked me up high and hugged me tightly….

This was a Divine set-up, long before I knew who Jesus was or why I should give my life to follow Him. Because while the enemy has many times since tried to take that snapshot to remind me that this is a scary world and you are on your own to figure it out, God inspired the writing of John 14 as the ultimate reinforcement of the promise that just the opposite is true.

The microwave version is this: After spending three amazing years with Jesus, filled with adventures and wide-eyed wonders, there in an upper room on the night He was to be betrayed, the fire alarm of Time’s fulfillment sounded:

“I have to go, and you can’t come with me right now.”

“Wait. Where are You going, and why, and when are You coming back?” 

“I will not leave you as orphans. I will come to you.”

“And I will give you Someone who will take care of you and guide you and remind you of everything I said until I get back.”

Fear of the unknown is real. Fear of things seeming to be out of control is real. It’s part of being human. But you can feed the fear by believing the 24/7 news cycle and people’s scary and screaming posts on your social media feed, or you can choose to turn fear to ever-increasing faith by remembering that no matter how you feel or how it may look, God never leaves you alone to figure out life by yourself. Ever.

And on those days when you feel like a little kid who has been left at the fire station, it’s better to remember that:

“He brings out the starry host one by one

And calls them each by name

Because of His great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing.”—Isaiah 40:26

And…

“You hem me in—behind and before;

You have laid Your hand upon me…

Where can I go from Your Spirit?

Where can I flee from Your presence?”—Psalm 139:5, 7

And so then…

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified …for the Lord your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you.”

—Deuteronomy 31:6

The God of 'Next'

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“For everything that happens in life — there is a season, a right time for everything under heaven.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1, The Voice

The first time I walked through the door of that church, everything felt right. Most of all, it felt like a place where the love and power of God was always welcome. I had just gone through a huge, multi-year, life transition, and I was ready for the waters to calm and the wind to die down. I was ready to settle in. And for a couple of years, I did, and it was refreshing and refueling, and it was very good. It was a season and a right time for everything under heaven.

Until one day, “We need you to help us out in Hancock.” Here I was a half-hour from home, while Hancock was the next town over from mine. How cool should that be? But I was comfortable. Everything would be new in every way again, and it would mean another transition and being away many a Sunday from a family I’d just begun to connect to. “You don’t have to decide tonight, but pray about it.”

And at that moment, God must have been covering his mouth to suppress a chuckle: “Watch this!” Because when I got into my car to head home, this is the song that just so happened to randomly appear in my Spotify mix…

“Comfortable, don’t get comfortable

I’m going to move this mountain

Then I’m going to move you in…”— Brandon Heath

Today is the fifth anniversary of the launch of that wonderful Hancock church. Despite wanting to be comfortable where I was in late 2015, God gradually drew me in like a magnet to yet another new community of believers I love and a whole lot of new adventures filled with new life and answered prayers and community outreach as Jesus' hands and feet. Things that only God could do. I still have a place in my heart for where I came from because it was all part of the journey, and “a right time for everything under heaven” — it was a much needed oasis, but also another launching pad for whatever God has in mind next.

When you’re in the middle of transition, you don’t (want to) see it that way, but looking back on it all, it all makes sense:

In the Kingdom of God, there is no retiring or settling in.

God always seems to have a “next” for those who are willing to follow (even reluctantly). And especially the way things are going in our world right now, there’s a ton of Hope in that. No matter what, God is always on the move for good, even if and when we don’t see it.

In all sorts of areas of life, that Brandon Heath song will probably show up several more times on the journey ahead. But these past five years have been a beautiful reminder that in every season of life, wherever I am and whatever I am doing with my life, when I remember that I am a branch grafted into the Vine (John 15:5), nothing with God is random and everything is intentional:

“You have not chosen Me but I have chosen you,

And I have appointed — decided beforehand in a specific way

And placed — put in a particular place or position

And purposefully planted — to achieve an aim not randomly or accidentally, and set in place for growth

You.

So that you would go and bear fruit and

Keep on bearing.

And that your fruit will remain and be lasting.”

—John 15:16, Amplified (with definitions)

“God interrupt whatever we are doing so that we can join You in what You’re doing.”

— Francis Chan

An Ending That's Just the Beginning

 

“For we are God’s fellow workers, His servants working together; you are God’s cultivated field — His garden, His vineyard — God’s building.”—1 Corinthians 9:10

This is the view that is smack-dab in my face each time I leave the church parking lot and head home. I can’t think of a better landscape to put there. It is a constant reminder of God the creator and that He really is our Shepherd who leads us daily to the peaceful green pastures of His presence, God the artist who is always at work in our lives, and God the majestic and immovable and trustworthy as the distant mountain range. Most of all, the gate is a reminder that you don’t just go to church and go home, but that whether you turn left or right, you are now entering the mission field. And though the weekly gathering may be over, it’s never over…

…Back in the day, a kid growing up in church was a picture of impatient endurance: Feeling like we'd be forever stuck on that first of four numbers on the hymnal board...Pew cushions so old, they were an oxymoron...Doodling on the back of the bulletin with a stubby pencil with no eraser...Wiggling and fidgeting, and fidgeting and wiggling, and getting "the hint" from dad's or mom's gentle but firm hand on my knee...Being bailed out countless times by sweet old ladies in perfumed fur coats sitting in the adjacent pew, who, with a wink, sneaked over pieces of hard candy...Totally frustrated from trying to sing out of the thing they called a hymnal, until that day you realized that the reason everyone had moved on to words you weren't singing is because you don't read all the verses on each line like a paragraph. 

Sundays were simpler, and the afternoons typically meant a big family dinner and then playing in your yard. No friends over. No places to go shopping or work or play youth sports, because on Sundays, everything in my little world was on lockdown. And it was good.

Which meant I looked forward with great anticipation on those mornings of impatient endurance in church to getting to that last item in the bulletin: The Benediction. I had no idea what that meant, all I knew was that it signaled "We're out of here!"...

"And just because we say the word 'Amen,'

it doesn't mean the conversation needs to end..." 

— Steven Curtis Chapman

...A benediction is a grown-up word that simply means "to speak well of." It begins with hearing and receiving what God speaks well of us — how much He loves us in spite of our prone to wanderness, and how much He wants us to savor a life that comes from sticking close to Him. One definition calls that "holy joy."

But little did I know then that the speak-well-of goodness wasn't supposed to end there, that the ending was really supposed to be the beginning. The life-giving, encouraging, power of blessing spoken over me and those sweet old ladies and everyone else was supposed to be carried out the door and passed along to those on our path: 

"The LORD bless and keep you...protect you, sustain you, and guard you.

The LORD make His face shine upon you with favor and be gracious to you...surrounding you with lovingkindness.

The LORD lift up His face upon you with Divine approval, and give you peace...a tranquil heart and life."

(Numbers 6:24-26, Amplified)

…In "How to Worship a King," author Zach Neese drives it all rightfully out the parking lot whenever I turn left or right and see the goodness of God in the field smack-dab in front of me:

"In this one blessing, we find destiny, protection, the glory of God, unmerited favor, intimacy with God, and the peace that passes all understanding regardless of our circumstances...What a world we would live in if we all gave and received such blessings."

Selah…

Days of the Real Deal

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“Taste and see that the Lord [alone] is good. Blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him.”—Psalm 34:8

As a creature of habit, when it was time to buy carrots, my go-to had been the big bag of organic minis. The package promised that they hadn’t been washed in bleach, which is always a good thing. Carrots are really good for you. And you can’t get more convenient for snacking and stir fry than minis. 

Until one day, the store was out of minis. The only other organic choice was a bag of the kind Bugs Bunny would chomp on. Carrots are carrots, right? Until I took a bite, and everything changed. The texture was like the root veggie it was supposed to be, and the taste was nothing like those minis—there was almost a hint of clove. A sweetness but not sweet. Earthy but without the dirt. I was in love.

On another day and another trip to the store, the packages of minis were back. (Did I mention I am a creature of habit?) And when I got home and grabbed a few to go with a sandwich, an awakening: Convenient maybe, but compared to the bigger versions, the minis had no taste. And maybe they weren’t washed with bleach but my tastebuds clearly detected that they had been washed in…something. The bigger ones tasted like somebody’s garden. I had tasted and seen what was good, and this wasn’t it…

I hope that we are in a Bugs Bunny carrot season right now. All around, it seems to our natural eyes that chaos, confusion and evil are not only on the rampage but are winning. Which is not true, of course…

“God’s plans are made on the basis of His complete knowledge and control, which extends to all things past, present and future, that there can be no sudden emergencies or unlooked-for developments to take Him by surprise.”

—J.I. Packer

In the process of our crazy days, though, God has been more than just in control. It seems He is driving millions of believers like me away from the comfort and relative ease of mini-carrots discipleship and to our knees in prayer and to our feet in fervent worship, and service, and determination to walk out the Greatest Commandment as never before. It is an entirely organic season, raw and one both desiring and requiring deep roots. And what the enemy has meant for evil, God is turning for good in His Church, if we will only stay the course. Because with our backs to the wall in a pandemic and national upheaval, it seems He is removing the taste for the convenient way of walking the Walk and anything with artificial flavoring and content and replacing it with the raw power of the real deal, the pure Gospel.

We cannot gather (yet) as we once did, yet He has been stirring us to press in as never before wherever we are. We have become more aware of those in need, and online prayer chains are more active than ever. The preaching of the Word has become more passionate, and much more vertical and much less horizontal. And much of what we thought was necessary to “do” church? And the undercurrent of a gospel that was often “all about me”? These have been exposed as inconsequential and like the bag of mini-carrots are leaving a funny taste in our mouth.

We’ve been experiencing the fullness of Psalm 34:8 because we’re tasting and seeing in a revived, awakened sense, that the Lord alone—the Maker of heaven and earth and all that is in it, and the omniscient, all-knowing One alone, and no man or a human system—is our true refuge. Our true safety and shelter from danger or trouble, the unshakable rock of our faith and source of our trust who has never failed and never will.

“It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in man. It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in princes.”—Psalm 118:8-9

Hopefully, there will be no going back. Because in the end, in these days of the real deal, it's becoming clear that only the big bag of carrots will do…