Inner Circle Joy

(Photo: dreamstime.com)

Dear brothers and sisters, pattern your lives after mine, and learn from those who follow our example.—Philippians 3:17, NLT

Reading Romans 16 is not unlike attending your child’s school awards ceremony and clapping for a bunch of people you know nothing about. It can be a little awkward: “I don’t know who these people are, but ‘yay for them’ anyway.” For the first 16 verses, the Apostle Paul encourages the fledgling gathering of believers in Rome, who like us,  “are beloved of God … called to be saints (God’s people) and set apart for a sanctified life; that is, set apart for God and His purpose,” to be sure to “greet” a whole lot of folks who they apparently know or have at least heard of, but who are total strangers to us.

But maybe they shouldn’t be.

These are mostly everyday people, with no special qualifications other than that they all seem to not just talk a good game, but consistently (not perfectly) walk the talk. These are men and women whose lives are marked not just by good deeds but by:

Faithfulness in both sunny and rainy seasons

Perseverance when everything inside screams to quit

Integrity even when compromise is everywhere

Hard work, very hard work, whatever it looks like, for the sake of spreading Good News

For being family to one another...encouraging, building up, loving

For random acts of hospitality

And, especially, whose very lives have been “tested and approved in Christ.”

When Paul says “greet” these folks, he’s implying a whole lot more than “Tell ‘em ‘hi’ for me.” The Greek word implies a very intimate greeting—to hug, to kiss with honor, to embrace. That may all sound rather uncomfortable if you’re not a particularly greeting-demonstrative person, but God chose a strong word for a very good reason:

In this journey on the Great Adventure, with deceptions, lies, and temptations lurking around every corner 24/7, it’s vital that we find and walk with those who have lived like the just-a-regular-guy saints in that Romans 16 list. And not only to find them and walk with them, but to go a bold step further and “embrace” them into a very tight circle of joyful influencers. Not at the exclusion of all others, but as Solomon penned many hundreds of years earlier—perhaps pointing to that early gathering of believers in Rome as well as to we who are called to be salt and light today—

"Walk with the wise and become wise;
    associate with fools and get in trouble."—Proverbs 13:20, NLT

“Show me your friends and I will tell you who you are."

(Author unknown)

[ADAPTED FROM 4-10-16]

Parable of the Unusual Journey

Photo: Jakub Kriz @unsplash.com

Once upon a time not all that long ago, in a land not very far away, a man bent over to lace up his usual sneakers and set out on his usual journey of usual length on the usual road. It usually was enjoyable and beneficial. Nevertheless, it was usual in every way and it had become routine, and safe and predictable. Until one day, his usual sneakers took him on an unusual road that was not of the usual length. It was longer—not by a lot but by enough so that it demanded determination, which produced more perseverance than he thought he had. He no longer thought the usual thoughts but began to wonder, “What if?…” 

This was becoming more common. Apparently, everything within the man had maxed out on usual and wanted something unusual to grow, to strengthen, to be more nimble and enduring even into a headwind. Without even realizing it, he was becoming something unusual, and better, and healthier in body, mind and soul. And somehow he knew that even this road of not the usual length wouldn’t be long enough for much longer. And it was good….

…“Therefore become imitators of God — copy Him and follow His example — as well-beloved children imitate their father.” (Ephesians 5:1-2, Amplified)

…It is easy and comfortable to stay stuck on usual when all the time, God has created us for “become.”

To stretch things out. To “grow to be.” Regardless of age.

And as long as it is called today, it’s a good day to stop standing still, to stop running in circles, to stop doing the same, safe, comfortable thing over and over and wondering why we feel like we’re not making much progress.

Because, truth is, we were made for much more than usual.

Made to become.

More and more like, and walk more and more like... Jesus.

Really.

To become more of a holy person. (What? No way!)

No, not "holier than thou" but as in, like God holy, “set apart” from the ways and thinking of this world that, in the end, go nowhere.

And yet to become more in the world with the light of Who is inside us...but not of it.

Real, and not plastic.

Not finger-pointing and frowning but pointing the better Way and maybe grabbing someone by the arm and helping them get up and look Up.

To live and love better Vertically so we can live and Love better horizontally.

And to realize “become" will take awhile, like our whole life, but to never give up or settle for usual.

To remember: “Success isn't how far you got, but the distance you traveled from where you started.” (Steve Prefontaine, Olympic runner)

…And on those days when “usual” sounds more appealing, it’s good to remember that “become” is not just for the special, or the weird, or the the intense, or the bold and well-spoken, or for people who have extra time on their hands—it’s for every one of God's kids. 

It’s about keeping the main thing the main thing: simply…sticking …close.

Remember what the religious leaders said about usual guys Peter and John: “they were astonished and they took note that these men had been with Jesus.” (Acts 4:13)

They were becoming unusual.

Because it’s not just the usual of what we know about God, but what we do with it:

“Sermons last but an hour or two, but your life preaches all the week.”

—Robert Murray M’Cheyne

Paved with Goodness

"Show me Your ways, O LORD, teach me Your paths; guide me in Your truth and teach me, for You are God my Savior, and my hope is in You all day long."—Psalm 25:4-5, NIV

A few weeks ago, I was hiking an unfamiliar trail that had very few markers and quickly became difficult to follow in the snow. Lots of meandering and needless circles. I wound up following the sun to get back to my car. I wished it had one of these signs like in the photo, taken along a more familiar trail. Maybe not coincidentally, this morning while standing in the shower and thinking of the day ahead, I sensed something really strong like: "Just stay steadfast." And I thought of this post from long ago. And I guess I am not surprised to learn that it has been one of the most-read over the years, because we all can't be reminded enough that Someone is always cheering us on even when the path of life gets confusing and difficult...

There will be times of level, wide-open spaces with long strides, and times of steep hills shrouded in fog. There will be refreshing forest jogs with the wind at your back, and there will be times when the next step is fraught with sweat, deep breaths, and rocks and roots that trip up. On many days, the view ahead on the horizon is straight and inspiring, but on just as many days, the route ahead twists, turns, and seems to disappear into the landscape known as the Kingdom of Trust. There will be smooth sailing, and there will be detours. There will be incredible vistas and mountaintop experiences, and there will be murky valleys filled with mud.

But the same God who lifts us up out of the muck and mire and sets our feet on solid ground at just the right time, and over and over again, is the same God whose paths are paved with nothing but a gazillion ancient promises fulfilled (or still on their way) even thousands of years later. All built on a bedrock of nothing but faithfulness. They are pathways of pure goodness, even when they are not easy. Stay on them, no matter what, and you cannot get lost.

There are no dead-ends in God's ways either, because even if you wander off-course (it will happen), there will always be signs, and scriptures, and prayers of friends that say...

"C'mon! This way!"

Every day this week on planet Earth, truth and faithfulness will be found lacking in our broken world. Sometimes, in a big way. And if our eyes and ears and heart get stuck gazing here, there will be good reason to think, "I don't know what or who to believe anymore." A better course of action, one that is more easily achieved in the heat of the moment when one or more are in agreement in prayer with you (and you with them), is to take a deep breath, look Up once more, remember God's impeccable resume and track record, and fix our eyes instead on the Author and Finisher of our faith, and the Faithful Guide for every single step we take along the path of this Great Adventure:

Lord, so here's a one-word prayer request: Focus. Help us keep it in the right and only place, because Your paths alone are the plumb line that guide and build our lives perfectly. Your unchanging Words bring order to the chaos that can bubble up, both without and within. You are the peace and safest of harbors in every afternoon squall and three-day storm. Your Word is clarity in the midst of confusion; help us to remember that, to take up our sword, and to use it as a laser beam to bust through the fog when truth and faithfulness all around seems sorely lacking. Thank You that You have "given us two unchanging things: Your promises and Your oath. These prove that it is impossible for You to lie. As a result, we who come to You for refuge might be encouraged to seize that hope that is set before us. That hope is real and true..." And thank You, too, that in every step we take on the good path this week, You won't be off somewhere else—You'll be cheering us on....

"C'mon! This way!"

"If you can trust Him to save you for eternity, you can trust Him to lead you for a lifetime." — David Platt

(Originally published September 2016)

Just Because...

United Methodist Church, Peterborough, NH

I was going to sleep in on that rainy Sunday morning, and the idea of doing a lot of nothing except reading the paper and drinking coffee sounded really appealing. But by mid-morning, what I thought at the time was a guilty conscience had me scrambling to get dressed and heading to church because it wasn’t just Sunday, it was Easter. And not getting 20 questions/comments around the dinner table along the lines of “we missed you in church today, where were you?” became far more comfortable to my flesh than a sweat shirt and sweat pants in my apartment.

I was late. Really late. But the ushers smiled and said hello anyway, so that was a relief. I sat in the way back and settled in. I don’t remember one single thing about the rest of that day, but many years later, I am convinced that it was the beginning of a seismic shift that changed my life, and that I showed up at church that Easter not because of a guilty conscience but because someone(s) was praying…

“I know how much you trust the Lord, just as your mother Eunice and your grandmother Lois do;

and I feel sure you are still trusting Him as much as ever."

—2 Timothy 1:5, Living

...I figured it was my grandmother’s doing, followed closely by mom and dad and a few others.

Growing up, I thought Mamie (that's what we called our grandmother) was one of the wisest, kindest people I knew and yet she was a woman of few words. Her faith in God was just as quiet and yet seemed to be strong. I remember her listening to Tennessee Ernie Ford hymns and faithfully watching evangelist Oral Roberts on her black and white TV. The only time I remember her getting upset was when she was listening to a Red Sox game on the radio while she ironed and she raised her voice at “those Yankees!” for ruining Carl Yastrzemski’s birthday.

Mom picked up a lot of those same traits. And just as Paul pointed out to Timothy, put the two of them together, and I didn’t have a chance.

Thank God.

Several months later, Mamie learned she had terminal cancer. I don’t recall her ever changing her disposition, but it devastated mom and shook what little faith I had at the time. “Why God? Why her? Why?!” Even so, for the most part, I continued life as usual with little interest in church or spending Sunday mornings there regularly. But I did like to sing, and when I was invited to join the choir, I didn’t hesitate, even while singing about a Jesus and salvation and healing and such that was all pretty much foreign to my thinking and way of life.

But, there was this song. Mamie loved it, and so did my grandfather. And my mom, and my dad. And the whole choir. And doggone it, my grandmother and mother and whoever else with them must have been praying because it grabbed me, too, even though it wasn’t rock and roll. And on one Saturday night out with the boys, coming home I swore I heard a voice within my head say something like “you are at a crossroads—which road will you choose?” Going to church the next day was furthest from my mind for most of the night but suddenly became, “I’ve gotta be there. Because we’re singing that song tomorrow.” 

Mamie and mom and somebody else must have been praying some more. Because that Sunday, after we sang that song, and the invitation was given to receive Christ as Lord of my life (and not me—that wasn’t working out too well, anyway), I went all in. Of all the deep things the pastor said that day, the one line I remember that got my attention was “what if you get hit by a truck on the way out the door today?” And all of heaven must have chuckled a little: “Watch this!,” as I found myself moving to the altar.

Several months later, right before Christmas, Mamie went Home. Even though I knew a bit more about Where she was going, I was still a mess about it all. But on her way, she left me something. She left me that song to carry for all those “Why God? Where are You? This world (my world) is a mess!” moments. And many years later, I still cannot think of a Resurrection Sunday morning without singing along:

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow

Because He lives, all fear is gone

Because I know He holds the future

And life is worth the living just because He lives*

And I picture Mamie, and mom and dad, and all the others I’ve loved who have gone to glory, nodding their heads: “It’s all true. Keep ‘trusting Him as much as ever.’ And don't forget to pray for someone. You never know.”

* Because He Lives, (C) 1971, William J. Gaither Inc.

As You Go...

“Go to the lost, confused people right here in the neighborhood. Tell them that the kingdom is here.”—Matthew 10:7

There’s an interesting phrase in some translations of this commissioning by Jesus to His non-seminary, just-regular-folks-like-us disciples: Not just “go” but “As you go…” It implies looking for opportunity to share the Hope that is within us while we’re going about our day.

To ditch the “church talk” that only insiders understand.

To listen. To listen a lot and be slow to speak.

To think “others” before “self” (which always sounds so noble but is incredibly difficult to pull off).

To show the Way, the Truth and the Life in a relatable way through the way that God made each of us think, talk and move, and not try to copy someone else, or feel constrained by a “how to do it” manual, or worrying about all the ways Christ’s name and mission are being hijacked lately by people who have no clue and who are living just the opposite of that Name and mission.

“As you go” means you be you, with Him working through you. Practicing eyes wide open, and praying to see beyond what is Captain Obvious.

Because when you do, some of those opportunities will take you by surprise...

Like when you were on your way to doing something else “important” and just so happened to stop to say hi to your neighbor across the street who was out picking up sticks and other winter debris. And when that neighbor across the street starts a friendly chat and then suddenly shifts gears and announces a series of health issues for him and his wife, you realize that this is a Divine “as you go” moment.

And you could say, “gosh, I’m sorry to hear that,” and leave it there, and keep going on to your “important” task. Or, you could continue with: “I will be lifting you and your wife up in prayer,” or better still, “Can I pray with you?” Very few, no matter what their religious views, will say no to that, especially in a year-plus where just about everyone is starving for any kind of hope. And remembering that we carry the Real Thing.

Some “as you go” missions work better with a phone call, or a note or a text, or doing a favor without being asked. All we need is open eyes to see them—to see Jesus in them, and not to just be nice but to bring Hope with us “as we go.” To follow the words of the song…

“Give me Your eyes for just one second

Give me Your eyes so I can see

Everything that I keep missing

Give Your love for humanity

Give me Your arms for the broken-hearted

The ones that are far beyond my reach

Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten

Give me Your eyes so I can see…”—Brandon Heath

“A disciple is a person who has decided that the most important thing in their life is to learn how to do what Jesus said to do.”

—Dallas Willard

The Power of a Three-letter Word

"Philip said to Him, 'Lord, show us the Father and then we will be satisfied.' Jesus said to him, 'Have I been with you for so long a time, and you do not know Me yet, Philip, nor recognize clearly who I am?'"—John 14:9, Amplified

The more I read the gospels the more I realize I’m a lot like Philip—I think I get Jesus, but I don’t really get Jesus. It's not unlike walking a favorite woodland trail and seeing the sun through the maze of obstacles and yet not really seeing the sun.

If I had been Philip or one of the 12, I’m sure I would have been as clueless, blind, fearful, thick-skulled, and puzzled at times as they were by Jesus’ parables on life, His way of life... His life, period. Yet like them, even though never totally getting it, you realize there is something extraordinary about Jesus that keeps drawing you in closer and closer and with greater resolve, sometimes against all odds, pulling you along to see what’s next on this crazy Journey.

I like how God made sure Philip got included in the gospels. I think He wanted to let us know that He gets us.

Philip's honest, "I-can't-believe-I'm-saying-this-but-I'm-going-to-say-it-anyway" question is hope for us all— that this Walk is a lifetime of knowing and being with Jesus more than ever and yet never fully knowing Him; of being at times surprisingly filled with Heaven-sent discernment and yet at times being earthbound clueless; of walking through seasons of unshakable belief as well as ones of dizzying doubt. 

Perhaps it is akin to the real-life parable of the new contact prescription: A man with two new lenses on his eyeballs was driving down the highway one day, and while he could see everything right in front of him as plain as day, peering into the depths was another story because only one lens brought clarity. The other lens was fuzzy and needed correcting.

Maybe, just maybe, this is what knowing Jesus more and more in both a cognitive and experiential way is supposed to look like. The thing that needs correcting is that never really knowing and seeing Jesus clearly every day is not only normal or OK, it's all part of The Plan of faith and trust. It means staying steady in all our Philip moments, and maybe not always running as we'd like but rather simply putting one foot in front of the other. It means to keep drawing near even in the fog and, like those first disciples, keep being pulled along like a magnet by Someone more powerful and profound and wonderful and all-consumingly attractive, and eternally satisfying than anything or anyone this world has ever seen...

“For now, we can only see a dim and blurry picture of things, as when we stare into polished metal. I realize that everything I know is only part of the big picture. But one day, when Jesus arrives, we will see clearly, face-to-face. In that day, I will fully know just as I have been wholly known by God.”

—1 Corinthians 13:12, Voice

And all along the woodland paths and the highway of holiness, even with one-eyed clarity at times, it's a reminder in a lot of areas of life that faith is both “confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see”…and therefore, to keep praying for what you don't see clearly now: the impossible when that seems like a nutty thing to do, “Thy kingdom come” in friends, loved ones, and messy situations of life when you wonder how on earth that’s all going to work, and staying faithful and steadfast when you wonder what’s the point of it all.

And most of all, to turn “I’m not seeing it” on its head by adding one simple three-letter word at the end…

“Yet.”

“I give You back today the prayers I’ve prayed that are not answered—yet.  

The seeds I’ve sown that haven’t borne harvest—yet.

Restore the years, the prayers, the trust that the locusts have eaten. Remember me, Lord, redeem my life, and answer my oldest, truest, prayers. Amen.”

—Pete Greig, from “Dirty Glory—Go Where Your Best Prayers Take You”

Buckets of Life

(Photo: diapicard@pixabay.com)

Faith, it says in the Gospels, is like a mustard seed.

Trust is like the beautifully-clothed lilies of the field and God's accounting of every hair of a sparrow.

Integrity and Christ-likeness are like the healthy fruit borne of a fig tree.

Those who are in right standing with God will shine like the sun.

The glory of the Lord is like lightning.

Jesus often taught deep, unshakeable truths about God and living well by using simple illustrations from nature. Everyday things all around us. Reach-out-and-touch examples of all that God has created that can turn sometimes hard-to-grasp concepts into something eye-opening practical and fuel for life.

In fact, of a world in great need of a people who will lovingly live out such truths, Jesus told His first followers:

“I’m telling you to open your eyes and take a good look at what’s right in front of you.”

—John 4:35, Message

In New England, the welcoming "right in front of you" evidence of turning that long, seemingly-endless corner from late winter into early spring looks like the sun rising earlier and staying up longer, brave crocus shoots beginning to emerge from retreating south-facing snow packs, the early birds of spring beginning their familiar songs even on see-your-breath mornings, and — perhaps most symbolic and iconic of all — milder days and cold nights signaling the time to tap maple trees to make syrup (the real thing, not that wannabe brown substance in tall plastic bottles).

It all seems so "right in front of you" obvious. And yet what we take for granted with our natural eyes — things like mustard seeds, lilies, sparrows, lightning, even maple sugaring season — God has created to continually reveal a greater glimpse of Himself, if only we will choose to look beyond "right in front of you" and into the buckets of Life that know no season. About those iconic sap buckets, for example...

…“Filled with nutrients and minerals, sap is the blood of a tree. It carries energy out into the branches…as much-needed food during the growth period.” It is sweet and with natural antioxidants…

...“I am the sprouting vine and you’re My branches. As you live in union with Me as your source, fruitfulness will stream from within you — but, when you live separated from Me. you are powerless…when your lives bear abundant fruit, you demonstrate that you are My mature disciples who glorify My Father!” — John 15: 5, 8, Passion 

Sometimes, where we are and where we want to be in this Walk can feel like turning that long, seemingly-endless corner from late winter to early spring. Not much seems to be happening, or at least not as fast as we'd like. The sap bucket is a "right in front of you" reminder that God is still powerfully at work in all who stay in His grip in every growth-period season, one sweet and beautiful drop at a time...

“There are periods that we forget that in the pursuit of fruit, that if we just abide in Him, then fruitfulness is a guarantee.”

—Francis Chan