A Year of Sundays: Week 20

Sunday 20: Palm Sunday

When I started reading books as an adult, I quickly learned that I loved reading books that became movies.  To date, I have read 89 and have several more that I am working on. On more than one occasion, I have seen an image depicted from a book and thought, "that is not what I had pictured."

I think this might be what we would say if we could travel back in time and experience Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem. We read the description in John's gospel like this:

The next day the great crowd that had come for the festival heard that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem. They took palm branches and went out to meet him, shouting,

“Hosanna!”

“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

“Blessed is the king of Israel!”

Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it, as it is written: “Do not be afraid, Daughter Zion; see, your king is coming, seated on a donkey’s colt.”

At first his disciples did not understand all this. Only after Jesus was glorified did they realize that these things had been written about him and that these things had been done to him. (John 12:12-16, NIV)

While the other gospels have other details (like laying down cloaks and palm branches), the above account is the basic narrative. Too often we can't replicate stories from Scripture, but Palm Sunday is one that we can easily experience. At the church I I work at, we start Palm Sunday outside of our church building.  We read scripture, wave palm branches, and shout Hosanna before processing into the Sanctuary. Even this experience does not allow us me to fully appreciate the spectacle that was Jesus' entry to the city, but it's a good place to start.

A Year of Sundays: Week 8

Sunday 8: The Second Sunday after Epiphany

Epiphany is a season of going. Magi went to the manger (Read Matthew 2:1-12). Jesus went to the water to be baptized (Read Matthew 3:15-22). The disciples went with Jesus (Read Luke 5:1-11) . And if I may take some liberty, Jesus’ mother went to Him at a wedding (Read John 2:1-11).

But what is the point of all this going?

A phrase caught my attention as I listened to Scripture today:

“Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” (1 Corinthians 12:4-7, NRSV)

Common good.

The common good is hard to define. It is conceptually understood, even desired, without the full ability to articulate it. The struggle to define the common good is not limited to Christian thought, or even philosophy.  In fact, just this very week I sat amongst a group of graduate students at the University of Southern California and tried to give definition to this idea. Each small group landed on a good - but perhaps incomplete – definition.  One common thread was the idea of benefit to others; whether that was articulated as a “majority” or “all people” or “society,” it was understood that the common in common good was a challenging modifier.

So it is, too, in the Corinthians passage above. Later in the chapter, the author compares the common good to parts of a body working together, each with a unique part that serves the collective body. The ear may enjoy music from time to time, but primarily it does not hear for its own benefit, but rather to learn or warn the body. The feet may enjoy the pleasure of a pedicure from time to time, but mostly it carries and moves the body. It is the same with eyes and elbows, hips and hearts, armpits and even the appendix.

Using our gifts for the common good is not always easy, but it is important.

If I am a leg, let me stand.
If I am an arm, let me carry the hand.
If I am knee, let me bend.
If I am hand, let me extend.
If I am an eye, let me see.
If I am a bladder, let me pee.
If I am heart, let me beat.
If I am a butt, let me take a seat.
If I am a stomach, let me digest.
If I am a brain, let me know what is best.

A Year of Sundays: Week 2

 Sunday 2: The Second Sunday of Advent

The second Sunday of advent draws our attention to PEACE. We read in Scripture that Jesus is the Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6), Jesus' peace is not like the world's peace (John 14:27), Christ's peace should rule our hearts (Colossians 3:15), and even that there are some undeserving of peace (Matthew 10:13).

But what does peace even really look like?

(Try to answer that question for yourself before you read any further. It's a lot harder to put into words than you first think.)

We conceptually understand the type of peace that exists in the absence of conflict. No war = peace. We understand, but may not frequently experience, an internal peace that is a sense of calmness and restfulness. But is there something more? Out of curiosity, I asked ChatGPT to define peace from a Christian perspective. It returned:

From a Christian perspective, peace is often understood as a deep, abiding sense of harmony and wholeness rooted in God's presence and grace. It goes beyond the absence of conflict or turmoil and reflects a spiritual state of well-being and reconciliation with God, oneself, and others. Key aspects of peace in the Christian faith include:

1. Peace with God: Through Jesus Christ, Christians believe they are reconciled to God, breaking the barrier of sin (Romans 5:1). This peace signifies a restored relationship with the Creator.
2. Inner Peace: Christians trust in God's sovereignty and promises, which provides comfort and calm even in life's challenges (Philippians 4:6-7). This peace is described as "the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding." 
3. Peace with Others: Following Christ's teaching to love one's neighbor and seek reconciliation, Christians are called to be peacemakers (Matthew 5:9). This includes resolving conflicts and promoting unity in relationships. 
4. Eschatological Peace: The Bible envisions a future where ultimate peace will reign under God's kingdom, described as a time when "the wolf will dwell with the lamb" (Isaiah 11:6) and there will be no more pain or strife (Revelation 21:4). 

In essence, peace in Christianity is both a gift from God and a way of life shaped by faith, trust, and obedience to His will.

I am actually quite impressed by this response. When I ask what peace looks like, what I am really asking it means to have what ChatGPT called "peace as a way of life."

In today's Gospel reading, we meet adult John the Baptist along the banks of the Jordan river. The crowds asked John a question similar to what I am asking, how should we live?

“What should we do then?” the crowd asked. 

John answered, “Anyone who has two shirts should share with the one who has none, and anyone who has food should do the same.”

Even tax collectors came to be baptized. “Teacher,” they asked, “what should we do?”

“Don’t collect any more than you are required to,” he told them.

Then some soldiers asked him, “And what should we do?”

He replied, “Don’t extort money and don’t accuse people falsely—be content with your pay.” (Luke 3:10-14, NIV)

 His responses were direct and called for an immediate response: Be content. Contentment is underrated these days. We are bombarded with images on television and social media that make us believe we need more. We need better. We need newer. While the mediums may be new, the problem is not. In the book of James we read:

What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don’t they come from your desires that battle within you? You desire but do not have, so you kill. You covet but you cannot get what you want, so you quarrel and fight. You do not have because you do not ask God. (James 4:1-2, NIV)

So, I return to my initial question: what does peace really look like? Peace looks like:

• having so much trust in God's ability to provide for us, that we only take enough for today.
• being so thankful for what God has given us, that we don't take things from others.
• opening our eyes to others' needs instead only focus on ourselves.
• talking to God when we think we are lacking in some way.
  

What does peace look like to you?

A Year of Sundays: Week 1

Sunday 1: The First Sunday of Advent

The church calendar begins with the season of Advent, and on the first Sunday of Advent we reflect on hope. Advent focuses on the coming of Christ, when He came to earth as a baby, as well as his second coming, when He will return in glory. So, what does it mean to start the year with hope?

Several years ago my family drove from Los Angeles to Minneapolis on vacation. As we made our way through Wyoming, we came to an especially long stretch of nothingness. We turned left off the already small main road and onto an even smaller road that ran between two farms. The GPS chimed, "Continue straight for 100 miles." After what felt like forever, we turned right and the GPS chimed, "Continue straight for 50 miles." Unease replaced my typical sense of direction. I knew where I was going, but I had no idea where I was. I really hoped my directions were right.

When Jesus told His disciples about His coming death, He told them that He was going to prepare a place for them where they would join Him. He finished by saying:

"You know the way to the place where I am going.”

Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." (John 14:4-6, NIV)

Much like my drive through Wyoming, the disciples were going into unfamiliar territory, and I believe Thomas' question was really one of hope. He was asking, how do we have hope? Many of us are asking God that same question today.  The directions made no sense; how do I have hope?

How do I have hope in my sadness?

How do I have hope through this loss?

How do I have hope through this rejection?

How do I have hope through this darkness?

And much like He answered Thomas, Jesus is saying to us: I am hope. Hope is knowing this road will not last forever, but the Way is eternal.






To read more about Advent, check out my 2020 reflections: 33 DAYS AND COUNTING.

Becoming

Last night I became my father.

I found myself eating toast with jelly as a late night snack with the lights turned down while I watched Star Trek: The Next Generation. Tomorrow I may have a bowl of Cheerios with my coffee and become even more like him. Maybe I’ll even watch the news.

Of course I have not actually become him, but my actions reveal his likeness. By living in close proximity, his way of doing things has become my way of doing things even without trying.

It happens. We joke that people begin to look like their dogs. If you doubt me, just do a quick internet search and you’ll be entertained.  Similarly, I’m sure you’ve known couples who have started to talk like their partner after being together a while. It’s why I came home from Canada saying, “eh?” Psychologists call this the Social Proximity Effect. Sadly, our mothers were right: if your friends jump off a cliff, you probably will too.

Inluence is powerful.  When we learn good traits, the results are amazing.  When we learn bad traits, it can seem impossible to overcome. There is probably no place this is more true than in our faith. In scripture we read John's words stressing the importance of it:

We know that we have come to know God if we obey his commands. Suppose someone says, “I know him.” But suppose this person does not do what God commands. Then this person is a liar and is not telling the truth. But if anyone obeys God’s word, then that person truly loves God. Here is how we know we belong to him. Those who claim to belong to him must live just as Jesus did. (1 John 2:3-6, NIRV)

Scripture is clear that believers must live like Jesus did, but let's be honest, it's doesn't always seem like they do. It would be easy to dismiss this as a failure resulting from our human nature - and, yes, we are all going to fail from time to time, but that answer isn't sufficient for me.

The Person is a New Believer

I believe in immediate salvation, but I also believe that we spend the rest of our lives becoming like Christ. We will always struggle with a sinful nature, though those struggles may change over the course of our life. Sometimes those rough-around-the-edges Christians are just spiritual babies. They are still drinking the milk of their faith (Read 1 Peter 2:1-2 HERE).

The Person is Distracted

Distraction can occur in one of at least two ways. We don't spend enough time with Him or we spend too much time with others.  In the first case, we aren't practicing spiritual disciplines: praying, reading the Bible, participating in a faith community.  In the second case, those spiritual disciplines are being drowned out by the other voices in our life: unbelieving friends, the internet, or personal activities. Our faith is being choked out by life (Read Mark 4:1-20 HERE).

The Person is Unaware of the Impact of their Actions

This is a tough one for me. I strongly believe that our faith is meant to be lived out with other believers.  In fact, I recently wrote about that idea in my Friday writing group (Read it HERE). In practical application, this one is easier said than done.  I have a friend who on more than one occaision has reminded me that sometimes the way I speak does not convey a friendly tone. Oof.  It's always awkward for both of us. The first time I was told this, my immediate response was a defensive manner. As I calmed down I realized that he was right, and I have tried to change my actions accordingly. However, it's not always appropriate to confront someone.  You must have a loving relationship with them and pure motives.

These are a few of the things I've been thinking about, but I want to know from you: Why do you think Christians are sometime so unlike Christ?  Leave me a comment and go be like Jesus!

Neighbor

But wanting to justify himself, he said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
(Luke 10:29, NASB)

I had just turned the heater on when I heard the knock on my office door. I opened it to see a woman.

"Excuse me," she said. "We just noticed one of your windows is broken."

It's not unusual to find neighbors on our church property.  On the edge of an area zoned for manufacturing, a major residential area begins to the south of our church campus. A large grassy area covers that side of property.  Those who have been at the church a long time may see the grass as a missed opportunity.  The original plans included many more classrooms and a small chapel, and the grassy area would have been replaced with buildings for education and worship.  However, the early members of our church never got around to finishing development for one reason or another. So, these days, we often find our neighbors throwing a football, practing casting their fishing rods, or like today, playing with their dogs.  Hello, neighbor.

As a church we do our best to make use of that area.  We gated off a small section so our children's department can safely take students outside to run around. Over the years we've had many barbeques and water balloon fights.  We even purchased a blow up movie screen to host movie nights during the summer.

These local residents are our neighbors and it's generally easy to love them.

But what about the others?  What about the person who, for example, broke our window?  What about the person a few years ago who graffiti'd our trash cans?  What about the man who asked (that is, told) us to make expensive repairs to a portion of our building "because he loved Jesus"?  Can we invite these people to be our neighbors also?

Indeed, those needing to be accepted as neighbors are the ones from whom we least benefit.  When the Samaritan helped the man on the road in Jesus' parable, he was generous with time and money.  He took care of his physical needs, transported him to an inn, stayed the evening there, paid the man's debt, and promised to return in case more was needed.

The Samaritan was a neighbor to the man before the man could decide he wanted a neighbor.

It's easy to befriend the Mr Rogers of the world who declare "I have always wanted to have a neighbor just like you."  However, when we find our neighbor is more Oscar the Grouch than Mr Rogers, it is then that we can truly model God's love.  We can love first (1 John 4:19).

Along the Way

Me, doing my best impression of a tourist.

My family planned a trip to see a Minnesota Twins game in July 2019. Target Field, where the Twins play, is almost two thousand miles from our home so we also planned some stops along the way. In Utah, we visited long time friends who had moved out of state several years before. In South Dakota, we stopped at a cafe with the same name as my younger son. Oh, and we went to this little place called Mount Rushmore.  Maybe you've heard of it?

And then we drove the two thousand miles back home.  Along the way we planned equally exiciting stops. In Iowa, we saw a musician who wasn't coming to the West Coast any time soon. And the Field of Dreams! In Colorado, we visited family. And in Las Vegas, Nevada we stayed at a fancy hotel - just because we could... and because I had a coupon.

Sure, we could have flown to Minneapolis.  What took us a week each way could have been accomplished with a three hour flight.  It probably would have been cheaper, too.  But, oh, the things we would have missed along the way!

A candy museum. A gun museum. A cowboy museum.  Three rounds of golf at three different miniature golf courses in the same mall. Watching a lightning storm set a field on fire. Countless small towns that claimed a connection to Laura Ingalls Wilder. A mid-America county fair. A hotel with hallways reminiscent of The Shining and showers that could be seen from the main room if you didn't turn on the lights properly. A picture opp next to a giant Green Giant statue. Finally getting my son a mug with his name on it.  An underground cave tour.

What happens along the way is very important in Scripture.  God's people were warned of armies, ambushes, and angels they would encounter along the way.  Yet we wonder why things are difficult for us.

There was a stretch of highway in Wyoming that really made me nervous.  We had been relying on our phone to direct us, and we hadn't had any problems.  Yet, when it told us to turn off the main highway to go on another path for one hundred miles, then turn right and continue for fifty miles, I was suddenly aware of everything that could go wrong.  What would happen if we lost cell reception? What would happen if we missed our turn?  What would happen if we got a flat tire? We could see the fences of distant ranches, but we could not see people.  We had to trust the way before us.

Life is too often like that Wyoming path.  Uncertain.  Unfamiliar.  Unexpected.  Maybe even undesired.

There is only one place to receive comfort in those moments:

Jesus said, “Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust in me. There are many rooms in my Father’s house; I would not tell you this if it were not true. I am going there to prepare a place for you. After I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me so that you may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going." (John 14:1-4, NCV)

God has never abandoned me along the way, so why do I worry? I believe that God has revealed to me the way to the place where I am going, that place where I can finally be with Him in perfect peace. And I pray He alows me to enjoy the journey along the way.

Advent 2020: Two Perspectives on Love

This post is part of a series of reflections on Advent.
You can read the first post here: 33 DAYS AND COUNTING.

And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

(Luke 2:7, NASB)

Greater love has no one than this, that a person will lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:13, NASB)

How to love, as with most things in life, is part instinct and part experience.  From an early age we are taught ways to express love.  Some families are affectionate, and some are not.  Some give lots of gifts, while others put more value in spending time together.  (For more information on ways to express love, I highly recommend The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman.)

My family was never especially affectionate. I don't remember cuddling or holding hands, and hugs weren't frequent.  In fact, my sister has reminded me more than once of the time I refused to hug her.  One Christmas, as we left my grandmother's house, I began the always awkward process of saying goodbye to my extended family with hugs.  These weren't the warm embraces I now give friends I haven't seen in a while.  To me, these hugs were just what we were expected to do; they were obligation.  As I worked my way around the room, I arrived at my sister, who instead of hugging, I told "I don't hug people I see everyday."  My comment, though out of place, was true.  We didn't hug everyday.  And in my early adolescent years, I could not make sense of why that day should be any different.

I've heard many people speak of seeing the variety of people as a testament to God's creative nature.  I understand this sentiment, but it's challenging for me.  Sometimes it feels as if we are a piece in a jigsaw puzzle, with each piece needing to connect in just a certain way for things to work out.  Those who have connected, or begun the process of connecting with other pieces, are optimistic.  They see their purpose or at least feel they have one.  Those who are still laying in the pile, though no less important, see things negatively. Could it be that our ability to love and be loved hinges greatly on this point of view?

The Christmas story, too, offers the opportunity to viewed from two different perspectives. The story most know begins with a young woman singing out "my soul magnifies the Lord!" (Luke 1:46). It progresses with a trip across country and culminates with the sweet scent of a new born baby and the star that shined so brightly.  The other reading of the story is very different indeed. It begins with asking God "why me" followed by months of rumors surrounding the unwed soon-to-be mother. An inconvenient census leads this girl to birth her child while the stench of a barn fills her nostrils with each deep, labored breath in the darkness of that night.  It is either the story of homeless refugees who fled for their lives or the generosity of the strangers who welcomed them in. We see either gold, frankincense, and myrrh or tears, blood, and dirt.

My younger son suffers from abdominal migraines.  His episodes have been intermittent over the past five years with more than one trip to the emergency room when the attack was more severe.  I thank God that they seem to be occurring less frequently.  He has only had one minor issue this year, but this morning I woke early from the bathroom light shining down the hallway and under my bedroom door.  It had been on for a while, but in my sleepiness I could not make sense of it until I heard the all too familiar voice at my door "Mom!  I feel lightheaded" as he dropped to his knees, crawling back to the toilet.  He had already taken his medicine and waited uncomfortably for the pain to subside. I sat beside him in the bathroom, rubbing his back and handing him toilet paper to wipe his mouth.  When the worst of it had passed (meaning, after he had thrown up), I got him some water to wash out his mouth.  I made the couch comfortable for him to lay down and watch television.  I got him crackers and sat with him until he fell asleep again. There was little I could do for him except lay down my plans for the morning for his needs.  And, ultimately, I was able to still accomplish the other items I needed in a timely manner.

In John 15, when Christ said that laying our life down for someone was the greatest expression of love, it is understood that He was speaking of His coming death.  Yet, we are only able lay down our life in that final way once, and quite frankly, many of us do not get the chance to approach our death with enough forethought to be that significant.  However, we have opportunities every day to lay ourselves down in our living. In so doing we teach others what true love.  Even Christ had been modeled this kind of love from His earthly beginning. When Mary laid Him in the manger, she was also laying down her own life.  It was not an obligation; it was an honor. May we be as wise.

FMF: Conclude

          At that point some of the people of Jerusalem began to ask, “Isn’t this the man they are trying to kill? Here he is, speaking publicly, and they are not saying a word to him. Have the authorities really concluded that he is the Messiah? But we know where this man is from; when the Messiah comes, no one will know where he is from.”
(John 7:25-27, NIV)

          Then they hurled insults at him and said, “You are this fellow’s disciple! We are disciples of Moses! We know that God spoke to Moses, but as for this fellow, we don’t even know where he comes from.”
          The man answered, “Now that is remarkable! You don’t know where he comes from, yet he opened my eyes."
(John 9:28-30, NIV)

We've all been there, playing a mental game of chess and we've move three steps beyond what is actually happening. We jump to conclusions so fast we should get a gold medal.  Please tell me I'm not the only one.  In the book of John an interesting juxtaposition exists between two groups of people who conclude who Jesus is.  In John 7, the people of Jerusalem decide Jesus is not the Messiah because they know where Jesus came from.  Two chapters later, in John 9, the Pharisees conclude that Jesus is not the Messiah because they don't know where He came from.  As it was in John, so it is for us.  When it comes to God, we rarely know the entire story.  Even when we know a lot, we may lack sufficient knowledge to understand its significance. God is up to something that we could not guess.  He does things bigger and better than we can imagine.  So as we conclude 2020, I tip my hat to God for filling this years with things that we couldn't have imagined, and I pray that He allows me to retire from my Olympic caliber spiritual high jumping career.



This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday and was written in approximately five minutes. For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.

FMF: Grief

Truly, truly I say to you that you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice; you will grieve, but your grief will be turned into joy! Whenever a woman is in labor she has pain, because her hour has come; but when she gives birth to the child, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy that a child has been born into the world. Therefore you too have grief now; but I will see you again, and your heart will rejoice, and no one is going to take your joy away from you.
(John 16:20-22, NASB)


Christians do not mourn like the rest of the world.  No where in Scripture is that more evident, than in John 16.  Jesus tells his disciples that He will be leaving them, something they could not understand.  Jesus moves beyond trying to explain what will happen to how they will feel.  They would mourn even though the world would rejoice.  However, for those disciples and for the modern believer, there is hope in grief because we know the sorrow will not last.  There will come a day when we are reunited with Christ and we experience a joy that cannot be taken from us.

Earthly joy is often limited.  We might be happy about something that happens, but we restrain ourselves because we don't want to lose sight of reality.  Or, we understand that something that caused us joy may have caused someone else grief.  The last year has been a time of balanced joy and grief for many.  One day we're jumping with joy and the next day we're punched in the face by grief.  Some times those days were the same days.

If our faith is secure in Christ, we are able to push through the pain (pun intended) like a woman in labor to the beauty that will soon be ours: Not just any child, but the Christ Child in all His glory.



This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday and was written in approximately five minutes. For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd;
I have all that I need.
He lets me rest in green meadows;
he leads me beside peaceful streams.
He renews my strength.
He guides me along right paths,
bringing honor to his name.
Even when I walk
through the darkest valley,
I will not be afraid,
for you are close beside me.
Your rod and your staff
protect and comfort me.
You prepare a feast for me
in the presence of my enemies.
You honor me by anointing my head with oil.
My cup overflows with blessings.
Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me
all the days of my life,
and I will live in the house of the Lord forever.
Psalm 23, NLT

I feel the need to make a short confession before I begin writing today: I don't love Psalm 23. I'm a little uncomfortable writing this because, after all, it is God's Word. In that regard, I love the chapter for what it teaches me in the same way I love any other chapter of the Bible. However, I don't have the same deep regard for it that some do. Quite frankly, it's not the chapter I turn to when I need comforting, and I hope it's not read at my funeral.

That being said, for many people it is a special blessing. It might be one of the only passages they have memorized. They may read it and find assurance in God. This is one of the great things about God's Word. It speaks to each of us as needed. Who knows, one day I may feel differently about Psalm 23.

One thing that I do love about this passage is that it reveals David's roots. Before David wrote the psalms, before he was a king, and even before he fought Goliath, David was a shepherd. Clearly his faith was formed out in those pastures. He spent a lot of time in fields taking care of sheep which helped him to see how God took care of him.

This idea of God as shepherd was shared by Jesus. In fact, Jesus called himself the good shepherd. In John 10, He said that:

• He knows his sheep.
• His sheep know Him.
• His sheep know His voice and do what He says.
• He will give up His life for His sheep.

I know we are already aware that Jesus often spoke in codes, so let's break the code of this passage.  Every time Jesus said “sheep” He really meant people who believe in Him. The implications of John 10 are awesome: 

• Jesus knows His people.
• His people know Jesus.
• His people know his voice and do what He says.
• Jesus gave up his life for His people. 

That IS a good shepherd. I'm so thankful that God knows me and that I know Him. Baaaa....

A Little Extra For You: Last year I worked through Lysa TerKeurst's Finding I Am as part of a Bible study group.  In it, TerKeurst studies Jesus' seven I AM statements, including the one I've written about today.  You may be encouraged by it, as I was.

Because You Are Strong

I write to you, dear children,
because you know the Father.
I write to you, fathers,
because you know him who is from the beginning.
I write to you, young men,
because you are strong,
and the word of God lives in you,
and you have overcome the evil one.
(1 John 2:14, NIV)

Here, where I live, we are one week away from the first day of school.  This time of year usually comes with a unique mix of emotions.  For many it is both dread and excitement as the carefree days of summer disappear for the structure of daily studies and reunion with friends.  Undoubtedly, this year carries with it an additional set of fears, frustration, and disappointment all before school has even begun.  Students are beginning the year knowing that this year will likely be all the work (plus some more) without the relationships that encourage them.  No funny faces will be made across the classroom when the teacher turns her back.  No notes will be passed in hallways between classes.  And parents will always be close by even though students are "in class."  The patterns that have been developed and mastered over the last five, ten, or twelve years are meaningless.

We have a simple rule for school success in our home: Every class. Every page. Every assignment.

It is hard.  There are many distractions, many things that bring more immediate joy, and many things that are easier. It doesn't always feel like it, and actions may not always reflect this truth, but YOU ARE STRONG. Despite the uncertainty faced by students, teachers, and parents, God is here.  He will remain here.  And unlike those in our classes, He is not with us remotely; THE WORD OF GOD LIVES IN YOU. May you face each day with this knowledge and live accordingly, so that when it is done we will see and know that YOU HAVE OVERCOME THE EVIL ONE.  Amen.

Year Four

And all the people in the synagogue were filled with rage as they heard these things; and they got up and drove Him out of the city, and led Him to the brow of the hill on which their city had been built, in order to throw Him down the cliff.

(Luke 4:28-29, NASB)

Again they tried to seize him, but he escaped their grasp.
(John 10:39, NIV)

Jesus‘ ministry was only three years long.  They were years filled with crowds, chaos, and capture attempts.  There was controversy, conflict, and betrayal.  By today's standards, Jesus was chronically homeless. He paid his taxes from money found in a fish.  He was not understood by the religious elite, and He was rejected in his hometown.  His years of ministry were concluded by the events of Gethsemane, loneliness, and ultimately crucifixion. If the story stopped there, Jesus' ministry would be considered a total failure.  But we know the story doesn't end in year three.  Instead year four - and all of the years after it - are marked with resurrection.

Many of us are living in year three.  Things seem to be going from bad to worse.  Our friends feel distant.  Authorities are working against us.  Our prayers are being answered in ways that break our heart.  We are asking ourselves what could possibly happen next.

Resurrection.

Resurrection could happen next.

Fireworks

Tonight I laid in bed hearing the boom of fireworks, and I wondered how far away they were.  Could I actually be hearing the fireworks from protesters downtown, more than 15 miles away*?  Or worse, are there people throwing fireworks close to my home?  For the past five days, the news has repeatedly shown images of fireworks being thrown among protesters in a way that I can only describe as too close for comfort.  Lying there in bed, I chose to be honest with myself and admit what I did not want to: I don't like fireworks.

Fireworks represent closure.  When I visited Disneyland as a child, someone would always ask whether we could stay for the fireworks.  I can't recall how many times we went to Disneyland, but I know it wasn't more than a few times.  I remember how the park felt different after the fireworks show ended, as we walked away from Sleeping Beauty's Castle and toward the front gate.  Every shop on Main Street called to me.  I had not explored enough.  I wanted to know every detail that was available to be known.  Can we go in this store?  How about this one?  Eventually we would cross under the train tracks and out through those final barriers. I knew something had ended that would not happen again for a long time.  In those days there was no California Adventure and certainly no Downtown Disney.  When you left Disneyland you were in a parking lot.  You had to either wait for a tram or make the seemingly never ending walk to your car in the cold night air.  The magic was over.

Fireworks evoke feelings of rejection.  I missed being born on the Fourth of July by less than two hours - one hour and fifty eight minutes to be exact.  Growing up, my sisters loved to tell the story of how I ruined their Fourth of July the year I was born.  Since our parents were at the hospital, my sisters were left in the care of our grandmother.  Grandma would only let us do sparklers.  Would it be too dramatic to say the words still echo in my ears?  I know they were teasing, but I've connected fireworks with the special kind of bullying that only a sibling can do.  More than that, most years I have been presented with a red, white, and blue birthday cake.  Whether at a church picnic or my parents' house: Since we're going to be together for fireworks anyway, let's celebrate your birthday too.  I'm sure that's convenient, but it's never been very meaningful for me.

Fireworks are correlated to loneliness.  When I was about fourteen my mother worked for a doctor that had a cabin in the mountains.  We stayed at his cabin a few times while she worked for him.  During one stay we visited the home of my mother's boss's friend.  Their cabin was multi-story and was situated in such a way that it had a breathtaking view of the city.  We were promised fireworks like we had never seen them before.  It's true; I cannot recall ever again having such a good view of fireworks.  As we stood on that cabin's balcony and the evening sky was illuminated over and over again, I was mostly aware of how cold it felt and that I wished my friends were there to experience it with me.

You'll never read these stories on the cover of a newspaper, and there will never be an episode of 20/20 exploring why fireworks distress me.  However, they are powerful stories.  They are powerful because they are lies that I've heard - and believed - and allowed to steal joy from me.  The truth is:

Some days are big days, Disneyland days.  Some days are small days.  In the work of rebuilding the temple, God told Zechariah, “The hands of Zerubbabel have laid the foundation of this house, and his hands will finish it. Then you will know that the Lord of hosts has sent me to you. For who has despised the day of small things?" (Zechariah 4:9-10, NASB)  It takes a lot of small days for the temple of God to take shape.  It takes a lot of small days to for me to be shaped into the person I am called to be in Christ.  If I allow Him to, Christ will shape me because He has chosen me.  Scripture tells me that I am a chosen person (1 Peter 2:9), I was chosen before the foundations of the world (Ephesians 1:4), God has prepared good works for me (Ephesians 2:9), and I have not only been chosen but also appointed to bear fruit that remains (John 15:16).  No earthly rejection - real or perceived - can negate the good things that God has in mind for me.  Me personally.  Me.  I don't have to be afraid of knowing me.  I don't have to be afraid of being alone with me.  Alone doesn't have to mean lonely.  Some people can be alone and never feel lonely, but I've struggled with this for a long time because in those quiet moments I hear the lies the loudest.  I will no longer allow myself to be moved by anything but the truth of God.  As Jesus himself prayed for his disciples, may I be sanctified in the truth (John 17:17).

*A quick internet search returned that fireworks can be heard up to 50 miles away.  I still don't know where the booms and pops were coming from, but at least I know that random fact.

FMF: Another

“A new command I give you: Love one another.

As I have loved you, so you must love one another. 

By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” 

(John 13:34-35, NIV) 

"Another" is one of those easily ignored words in the English language.  We use it without giving it much thought.  It's something we say or write without having to look up the definition or remind ourselves how to properly use in a sentence.

"Another" has two meanings: Additional (like "Have another cookie") and Different (like "Pick another cookie").

When Christ tells us to "love one another" in Scripture, there are two types of people who we need to love.  Those who are like us, an additional person in our type.  Those who are different from us.

As Christ said in Luke 6:32-36, if we only love those who are like us, what credit is there?  Anyone can do that.

Today I will chose to love another person, whether it comes easily or with great sacrifice.

Today I will chose to love another person, whether they are family or strangers.

Today I will chose to love another person, whether I want to or not.

Then I will love another, and then another.




This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday and was written in approximately five minutes. For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.

Strange Chocolate Bunnies

Sometimes I'm strange. I think that's ok.

The Bible is full of strange things. Balaam's donkey had to talk sense into him (Numbers 22). Esther uses her status as a royal beauty pageant winner to save the Israelites (Esther 1-9). Jesus healed a blind man by spitting in the dirt and then rubbing the mud in his eyes (John 9).

Sometimes my prayers are strange.  I don't mean that I pray in tongues (1 Corinthians 14), my thoughts are strange.  A few days ago I found myself telling God that I am a chocolate bunny. My husband had gone to the grocery store with me, and, as we went down the seasonal aisle, he caught me looking at a huge chocolate Easter bunny. "Come on," he said, "it's hollow inside." I knew he was right. Though I knew it was only a chocolate shell, I was drawn to the treat. I laid in bed the next night and confessed to God that sometimes I am a chocolate bunny. I look solid, but I am weak. I look complete, but there is something missing. God, help me.

Today I found myself lost in the strangest worship. I was driving to the grocery store, listening to Celine Dion's "It's All Coming Back to Me Now." I prayed to God as I sang "It was so long ago, but it's all coming back to me." There's something in me that I've lost, but it's coming back.  I pray God honors what my heart was saying.

I recently found an old Bible up on the top shelf of a closet. It was actually at the bottom of a pile of Bibles, still in the leather case I carried it in. I had other Bibles before it and after it, but the one I found was special because it was the first meaningful Bible I had. It was a Teen Study Bible. It had bright colors and illustrations, and it was falling apart. I carried that Bible to church on Sundays and Wednesdays for years. I underlined and highlighted it. I filled it with bulletins, book marks, and even a leaf. I couldn't help but notice my current study Bible looks a little different. It doesn't reflect the same passion that other Bible does.

There's an older gentleman at my church that calls me "Sweet Amie." Sometimes I have to paste a smile on face when I hear him say that. I am not always sweet. I am a chocolate bunny, but I'm trusting God to fill me.

*If I said bunny enough times to make you think of the classic VeggieTales song, you can enjoy it HERE.

Light

I've been working my way through a daily devotional that was published in 1972 called Every Day with the Psalms by Mendell Taylor. I don't remember where I picked up this book, but my guess is that it was from someone in my church who was downsizing their book collection. To be honest, what probably attracted me to the book was the teal leather cover with its understated design and gold debossed letters.

In reflecting on Psalm 44:3, Taylor writes "What sunlight is to the physical world, that is what the light of God's countenance is to the spiritual world." More modern translations, like the following, capture the poetic beauty but miss the Hebrew idiom Taylor is using:

God, we have heard about you.
Our ancestors told us
what you did in their days,
in days long ago.
With your power you forced the nations out of the land
and placed our ancestors here.
You destroyed those other nations,
but you made our ancestors grow strong.
It wasn’t their swords that took the land.
It wasn’t their power that gave them victory.
But it was your great power and strength.
You were with them because you loved them.
(Psalm 44:1-3, NCV)

Other translations say their victory was by "the light of your presence" (NASB), "the light of your face" (NIV), or "the light of Your countenance" (NKJV). It is His very being, His presence, that is victorious. The word "light" in Psalm 44:3 is the same word used when we read the first few sentences of the Bible.  Light was the first thing God spoke into existence, and it was good. Upon creating light, He separates it from darkness (Genesis 1:3-5). Darkness cannot exist where light is. Or as John said it:

...God is Light, and in Him there is no darkness at all.  If we say that we have fellowship with Him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth; but if we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin (1 John 1:5-7, NASB).

I pray that God will show me what His light looks like. May there be no confusion between light and dark.

The Looking Glass Self

I've been studying the theory of the Looking-Glass Self. The theory suggests that we become the person we think others see in us. Basically, you are the mirror (looking glass) by which I see myself. Your perception of me (or the perception I perceive you to have of me) makes me feel a certain way about myself.

(Watch a short video from Khan Academy that further explains the theory HERE.)

Many times I have judged myself through the eyes of another or changed my behavior out of fear of that judgement:

What will it look like if go to the altar?

What will it look like if I don't stand up for myself?

What will it look like if I worship freely?

What will it look like if I forgive that person?

Instead of seeing ourselves through others, we should see ourselves as Christ sees us. There is no other person who fully knows us. Even better than that, Christ fully knows us and was still willing to give up His life for us. As Christ said, “I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me — just as the Father knows me and I know the Father — and I lay down my life for the sheep" (John 10:14-15, NIV). There is no fear of judgement when we see ourselves this way.

What will it look like if go to the altar?

A person who is seeking God's will in her life.

What will it look like if I don't stand up for myself?

A person who is turning the other cheek.

What will it look like if I worship freely?

A person who is desperately in love with God.

What will it look like if I forgive them?

A person who recognizes the forgiveness she has received.

You Complete Me

Last night my husband and I sat down to watch a movie together. As we started scrolling through Netflix, a movie caught his eye. "Jerry Maguire," he said, "let's watch that."

It had been many years since either of us had watched that movie. I remembered the story, but not the details: A sports agent gets fired from his job for wanting a more personal relationship with his clients, and an account leaves the company to work with him. He doesn't love her, but they get married. She comes to see the situation for what it is and releases him from the commitment he made. Eventually, he realizes he does, in fact, love her. In the final scene of the movie, he confesses his love to her with the words she'd been waiting to here. You complete me.

My husband and I are not sappy romantics.  We both rolled our eyes and giggled when we heard those words. However, the sentiment is truer than I'd like to admit.

First, God calls us to be one with Him:

Jesus answered, “I did tell you, but you do not believe. The works I do in my Father’s name testify about me, but you do not believe because you are not my sheep. My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.” (John 10:25-30, NIV)

Second, God calls us to be one with our spouse:

So the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man’s ribs and then closed up the place with flesh. Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man. The man said, "This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called ‘woman,’ for she was taken out of man." That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh. (Genesis 2:21-24, NIV)

Third, God calls us to be one with other believers:

These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised, since God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect. (Hebrews 11:39-40, NIV)

In all these areas I struggle to give up my desires so that I can do my part for the other. However, God will continue to help me grow as I continue to seek His will in my life.

Unfinished

I have this awful habit of starting things and never finishing them. I've been reading through old blog posts that I started, that were then left abandoned in various stages of completion. Some were a single thought; some were paragraphs long and only needed a proof read. Even the words you just read were a post I started in 2011, almost ten years ago.

Unfinished things bother me. Whether it's one bite of food remaining on a plate or a few pages unread in a book, I just want to finish it. I love to check things off a list. I love to throw things away (or give them away). One sip of coffee won't last long in a cup because I can easily finish it.

At the same time, things that matter go unfinished.  I start projects, like this Lenten focus on writing, but abandon them midway... unfinished. I have been on and off a journey to health for most of the last decade, but I still weigh about the same as when I started... unfinished. I attended college for two years after graduating high school twenty years ago, and I'm a student today... unfinished.

Thankfully, I believe in a God who finishes what He starts. There's a Greek word in the Easter story that we love to talk about at this time of year: Tetelestai.  It means "it is finished" as in "Therefore when Jesus had received the sour wine, He said, “It is finished!” And He bowed His head and gave up His spirit" (John 19:30, NASB).

Tetelestai is known as the Word of Triumph. In Christ's most difficult moment, He declares that he has finished what needed to be done. I pray that God gives me the strength to proclaim Tetelestai in the challenges I face.

When I suffer for doing right. Tetelestai.

When friends have abandoned me. Tetelestai.

When I've done everything I should. Tetelestai.

In my darkest moment. Tetelestai.