An Arabian Proverb

A friend is one to whom one may pour
Out all the contents of one's heart
Chaff and grain together
Knowing that the gentlest of hands
Will take and sift it,
Keeping what is worth keeping, and,
With a breath of kindness,
Blow the rest away

And The World Turned

One of those Sunday nights, I guess... some thoughts:

Recently an acquaintance of mine died much too early and in much too sad a fashion for me to even begin to understand.  She was young- 22- just had a baby, in fact they had to take him early because her stomach cancer was a threat to the well-being of them both.  She could have been treated from day one, but she wanted to be sure her son would live, so she spent 5+ months allowing her child to grow in her womb whilst the cancer ravaged her stomach.  The baby was born- prematurely, but healthy.  The cancer spread.  Her son is 8 months old; strong, growing, healthy. She is in Heaven.  Such sadness.  Such sorrow.  I didn't really know her.  I met her several times- her husband was roommates with a couple of my good friends.  But hundreds of my Facebook friends knew her and mourned with her family as she departed this world.  My Facebook feed (the medium by which I experience much of the world and the true litmus for what is popular and relevant) was chocked full with statuses of grief and wistfulness.  Such sadness. Such sorrow.

 But in the middle of all these tears were a different kind.  Another friend.  23 years old - college classmates with the recently departed, in fact - posted a status of overwhelming joy as her new baby girl was born on the same morn as another mother's life ended.  Such happiness.  Such joy.  The world turns.

Walk into any hospital and you are smack dab in the middle of one of life's greatest dichotomies: the same elevator that transport people with "It's a Boy!" balloons and deer-in-headlights fathers also send up the heavy-laden spouses and children unsure of what they are going see when they enter their loved one's ICU room.  The tubes, the noises, the eery, unregulated hush- to some they bring glee, to others they bring gloom.  Its almost like there should be two entrances:  one for the joyful and one for the melancholy.  But, as it is, they all share same doors, elevators, and even the same rooms.  The walls that yesterday heard loss-full mourning today hear elated laughter.   The same halls that hold folks with hearts eight times their normal weight with lachrymose sadness, hold those filled with lighter-than-air merriment and mirth. The world turns.

Ecc 3:20 (echoing the curse of Gen 3, of course): "All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return."  The world turns.

Storyline

So what of it?  As the great Steve Miller once said: time keeps on slipping into the future.  This truth is just so frustrating sometimes.  I don't want to say that the existential questions of life plague me- that would be far too harsh a word- but they do give me reason to pause.  often.  It is such a fine and blurry line between contentment and gratitude, and ambition and desire.  What in life should I be fine with as-is, and what should I relentlessly pursue to change?  This answer would be so wonderful to have. 
The world turns. I sputter as I ponder whilst folks that make me glad dance together away.  The ones I care to impact for good are the ones that will never notice, not as I would have them, at least.  It is pouring water into a hole-bottomed glass.  Unfulfilling.  Frustrating.  The world turns.
I have recently come to grips with the cold, hard reality that there are things - valuable, non-replaceable things -  in my life that I have have caused to break and splinter.  Some intentionally, most not.  And there is nothing that I can do to fix those dear, dear things.  No amount of talking or compromise or desire can make them new-in-box.  The saying, "time heals all wounds" is indeed patently false in this regard.  So the obvious answer is to learn from said brokenness and carry on, but wow, that is easier said.  There is part of me in each and every one of those fragments, how can one who is not whole carry on?  What does he carry?  To where does he carry it?   such sadness.  such sorrow.  The world turns.

Lord, take me from Lamentations 5:15 to Psalm 30:11.  The world turns.

October?!?!?!?!

I am haunted by calls from this here piece of the internet to get back on. I have several things bouncing around my noggin', and they will be put in to 1's and 0's very soon.
Until then, a poem by R.G. Bell:

See October
Sheets of crystal on morning grass,
Flannel shirts the color of leaves,
Sweaters the color of corn and pumpkin,
Wooly worms crossing the road,
Furry forecasters of a hard winter.

Hear October
Groans of hard men hauling hay,
Muffled report of rifles in woods,
Chainsaw promising winter heat,
Boughs breaking with weight of fruit,
Ripe prophets of a hard winter.

Smell October.
Smoke of leaves, oak, maple, tobacco,
Steams of soup, coffee, stew,
School bus fumes and Russian tea,
Whiff of cold in northern wind,
Clean composer of a hard winter.

Feel October.
Weight of first blanket on the bed,
Distant warmth of retreating sun,
Thickening fur on an outdoor dog,
Firmness growing in the ground,
Heavy harbinger of a hard winter.

Taste October.
Apples, crackers and sharp gold cheese,
Last grilled hamburger of the season,
Farm-ground sausage, pepper-laced,
Warm yeast bread from an old recipe,
Sure sustainer through a hard winter.

Come October!
Bring the security of a hay-filled barn,
A warming fire and goal made real.
Crown the end of a summer's work
With needs well met and hopes fulfilled
To carry us through a hard winter.

Mad Man

I'm reading an anthology of sorts, and I came across this Jack Kerouac gem: “The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!” methinks I'd like to be known as one who is mad to live. excelsior!

Let Me Sing

I know I post a lot of songs, but take the 4 minutes to listen to this one, its a good one.

More soon!

Campin' Out

Well, I leave in 30ish hours for a month of summer camp. To those who know me best, this is a sentence you never thought you'd hear. I understand your skepticism, but please know that I am a changed man. Allow me to explain. The truth is that growing up, I had a deep affinity for camp. I spent time at our church's camp (we'll call it CC) ever since I can remember. My dad would be the Bible leader and I was a camper and a counselor and a Bible leader myself throughout the years. It has always had a piece of my heart. But then in college one of my good friends spent a summer on staff at a camp and she came back weird... like really weird. And not in a good way. She ended up marrying a guy she met during that summer and he too is just a little.. shall we say... off. So from then on out, camp people = weirdo's.
Fast forward to my time as a youth minister. Early on, a whole bunch of our summer events had to be cancelled or altered because our students were away at camp. And, frankly, I missed having those people around. So then camp = annoyance. Then it all changed. I decided to go up to CC and be a Bible leader. I spent a week there and realized that we were grossly under-utilizing our time with the 100 campers we had. CC was all about canoeing and not about Christ. That made me sad. It felt like I was at a 1970's YMCA camp, not a 21 century Christian camp, and we were missing out on an amazing opportunity to share the Gospel.  So I decided I wanted to be a vehicle for change... but I didn't know anything about camp, other than they make people weird and take away from summer fun...
A year ago I decided to spend some time at two AMAZING camps to get an idea of what it really could be. CC is only a camp for kid's for one month. It is a volunteer staff that completely changes every week. I wanted to see what "real" camps looked like. Camps that had full time staff and ran program for 13 weeks. So I headed to Eastern Wisconsin for a week and, suffice to say, my mind was blown. This was the camp that made my friend weird. But I didn't see weirdos, I saw amazing 20 somethings who were sacrificing so, so much in order to pour their lives into kids and share with them the love of their Savior. I was blown away. I wouldn't have done that as a 20 year old. I wouldn't have given of my self so fully and unabashedly. No way. I had much too high of an opinion of myself to do anything of the sort. When I went to camp to be a counselor, it was to goof off and hang out with the ladies...  the campers were in the way. But these counselors, they got down and dirty with their campers. They got into deep conversations. They built relationships, they shared their faith. They loved their Savior and it showed. It was HOT when I was there. But these counselors gave 110% for their campers- in everything- in games and songs and crafts and Bible studies. Never had I seen so many selfless people in one spot. For real. It was profoundly moving.
I then went to the mountains of Idaho where the setting caused me to buckle in awe and the people absolutely changed my life. That is no understatement. I went there for a lot of reasons, and I left broken in so many ways... I'm grateful for that brokenness, however. I think I learned more about myself, my ministry, and my Savior in those 10 days then I have in the past 10 years... and our God chose to teach me those things at camp. What a powerful thing camp can be! (There is probably much more to be written about my time in Idaho, but that is for a different day and a bit more healing, methinks.)
Needless to say, I have been very much sold on the wonderfully special role that camp plays in one's faith life. It is amazing. I joined CC's board of directors the year prior, but I didn't really plan on doing too much. I figured I could get them to order some better T-Shirts and maybe champion the cause of repairing their nasty bathrooms. But after last summer, I was convicted to do a whole bunch more. Long story short, I am pretty much personally responsible for causing an entire paradigm change- 55 years of history- in one fell swoop.  uff da.
I don't write this to brag. Quite the opposite. I write it because it is God alone who could change my bad and sour attitude and make a crazy idea like this fly. Oh how good God has been.
I worried. I still worry. I think this whole process has caused more heartburn and sleepless nights than anything else I've ever done (which is saying alot). What if kids don't come? We eliminated a whole day's worth of program.
-This year, we have the most campers since 1999.
But what if we don't have staff? These are BIG changes and people are stubborn.
-It turns out we have over 110 people on staff over 3 weeks of camp.
Man... I distress while God dispenses... How feeble I am.
So now, I head out and champion the cause of sharing Jesus more effectively and openly with the 310 kids with which we have been entrusted.
We have 12 hours of training... We added low ropes initiatives and intentional debriefing and application times that 98% of the staff have never even heard of, let alone know how to lead.
We have 55 years of bad habits and at least 5 years of bad precedent to bulldoze through in 12 hours... But our goal is solid.  Our aim is, in everything we do at CC, we lift high the cross, point to it and say "There! That is what CC is all about. Share THAT with your campers, share THAT with your friends, share that with the way you live your life."
It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it.
But I don't know how it is all going to work out... more worry... pointless, useless worry. Forgive me, Lord.
Honestly, I don't really know if I'm cut out for camp. I enjoy showering too much, I think... But I have been gifted two of the most outstanding "camp people" I know to run the show. I'm a mere player in a truly talented ensemble. (have I mentioned how good God is??) I am so very excited to be a part of this new chapter of CC. To be a part of the Holy Spirit's working in these young people's lives -camper and counselor (and me!!) alike- and to be a part of the super sweet new T-shirts we did indeed order.
God is good, y'all.
All the time.
So, thank you Lord for having patience with me when I belittled the powerful working that you do at these summer camps. Forgive my ignorance and thank you for giving me the opportunity to experience how much of a blessing Christian camps (and counselors) really are. Bless the staff and the campers; change hearts with your Holy Spirit. Keep our eyes fixed on you, the author and perfector of our faith. Thank you for changing my heart- especially when it comes to camp- and use CC to powerfully impact your people. Keep us from harm, shield us from danger, and let the peace that passes all understanding calm all my worries and fears. Its in Jesus name I pray this, and in His nail-marked hands I rest.

blinded by the light

This guy is great. I've never thought about the idea of being blind and how prejudices must be way different. I mean, everyone can find a platform on which to judge if they want to. Its more than just sight, you know? But man, getting to know the true character of a person because there is nothing based on the superficial... that's kind of poetic... Also the reality that you don't have to watch somebody age is big. I sometimes get in knots seeing the old folks from the church I grew up at because they're getting...old. Its hard sometimes to see the effects of time on people you love. Although, I suppose you can hear people age too- you know, their memory or speech deteriorate, which would be tough too. Yeah. I like this guy.

tubed.

I've spent the past several hours watching youtube vids on how to convert a bus into an RV. Not only is this absolutely top 3 on my to-do before I die list, it might be a reality with a something we might be acquiring in the youth world... this could be very fun.  Or, never happen at all...  Regardless, thanks to youtube, I will know how to do it whenever necessary. :)
But, since Google took over YouTube it has been creepy in knowing exactly what I like and desire in the "recommended video" category. Below you will find one of my favorite tunes and the first 15 words repeat in my head all time. I find them to be absolutely genius in their simplicity. The song as a whole is very conceptual, but that's what you get with Mr.Switchfoot. The wildest part is that a year from now I could actually be working for him... crazy. Anyway, enjoy:


Well, OK... since we're on the topic, this is another wonderful tune... man. wonderful.

Imagine

yikes, the whole backstage of Blogger is totally different... it took me 5 minutes just to get to be able to post... I feel so old and out of touch.
As per usual, I'm in the middle of 5 or 6 books currently, but Donald Miller's "Searching For A God Who Knows What" has always stuck out on my bookshelf.  I have read all his other books, minus "Blue Like Jazz", oddly, since that's his HUGE book... I brought it up to the BWCA 4 years ago, but it got a little wet and I haven't gotten around to buying a new copy.  I don't know if I want to read it... I feel like I have already since everyone I know has read it and I've been part of dozens conversations about it...
ANYWAY, I started yet another book tonight- the aforementioned "Searching..." by Donny (that's what I call him) and this tidbit struck my fancy:
“Imagine how a man’s life would be if he trusted that he was loved by God. How could he interact with the poor and not show partiality, he could love his wife easily and not expect her to redeem him, he would be slow to anger because redemption was no longer at stake, he could be wise and giving with his money because money no longer represented points, he could give up on formulaic religion, knowing that checking stuff off a spiritual to-do list was a worthless pursuit, he would have confidence and the ability to laugh at himself, and he could love people without expecting anything in return. It would be quite beautiful, really.”
This touched me... I remember going to the mall alone as a high schooler.  This was a big faux paz, of course- high school people don't go out alone... at least they didn't willingly....  BUT, I remember going alone and thinking to myself, "who cares?  I have a girlfriend".   I had a confidence to be alone because I knew I had someone to come home to, so to speak.  Man oh man the confidence I lack because I forget that I am loved by God- dearly loved, even.  How many worthless pursuits do I go on and how many people do I end up alienating because I seek their approval rather than resting peacefully in the arms of my Savior... Lord, forgive me.



An apropos tune:

pontfication

So today, instead of talking about the Trinity like good Lutherans should, we talked about David (which isn't bad, but... come on, Athanasius only gets one Sunday a year!).  And so I wonder, God calls David a man after His own heart (1Sam 13:13-14, Acts 13:22), but did David know that?  I mean, if I'm a basketball player and Michael Jordan goes on ESPN and says that he thinks I'm the best player of all time, I'm going to play ball a little differently, you know?  So did David know that God considered him to be special- to be a man after His own heart?  That's high praise.  Or how did the whole Enoch thing work?  He walked with God?  What does that mean?  Did he know he was doing so in such an esteemed way, or was he just old man Enoch a'praisin' and a'livin' for Yahweh? (I don't know why when I think of Enoch I think of a 1930's southern fellow, but I do...)  Regardless, he had good genes as his son lived to be 969 years young. 
I don't know why I'm thinking about this, its admittedly pretty silly, but I wonder...  How does one gain such favor with the Lord?  And how can a man after God's own heart be a murderer and adulterer and raise kids who fell away.  That's the wonder of grace, I suppose.  How does Enoch walk with the Lord?  Why haven't more been as such since?  These are pointless quandaries, I know.  Perhaps I'm looking for validation.  You know, there are a lot of people who live their lives as "Christians" in many different ways.  Are the folks who won't write the word G*d in an Email more Christian than others?  Are they who don't listen to secular music stronger?  Or those who go to Wednesday church have more favor?  I know that this is all legalism, but Enoch walked with God and he took him to Heaven without dying.  And David was a man after God's heart, and God himself buried Moses, and Elijah was taken up in a chariot.. and on and on... I just want to know how did they live?  What was their faith like? What did their faith make their lives look like, you know?   I don't want to go so far as to say that I want to be like them- because I don't need to be like them- Jesus blood and righteousness covers over my sins just as it does theirs, thus our eternal home has the same address.  But, at the same time, I just kind of sort of at 1am on a Monday morning wish that there was an Enoch type today that one could look to and say - there - that person is living the Christian life- that person is a man after God's own heart.  Methinks I would very much like to get to know such a person... perhaps I do, I'm just too numb-skulled to realize it...
Meandering back to my original question, did David know that he was the Micheal Jordan of God's heart? (that is a big mixed metaphor, I know, but you get where I'm going...)  He presents evidence that he didn't- i.e. the Bathsheba-gate scandal.  But then he shows that he does- i.e. Psalm 51... ugh.
Maybe the take home for me is I DO know that I am a man after God's own heart, because I am made clean by His Son's blood.  That, therefore, is the lens through which I look at the world, and are the marching orders (so to speak) by which I live my life... This is nothing new, I realize, but a reminder is always nice, and I have an incessant need for closure.  Alas, I've concluded nothing pertaining my questions... oh well... another day, perhaps.
haha sorry to waste your time today, this is what happens when you don't talk about the Trinity on Trinity Sunday. :)

living in the inbetween

I came across that tombstone at Arlington National Cemetery.  Man, what a place, by the way, I can't wait to go back.  I'm already planning my next trip... there's so much to see!!
Anyway, there is a ton that can be (and has been) written about the cemetery and all the graves and all the death in the name of freedom and whatnot.  Perhaps, after I make a return visit or two, I can reflect on those themes more fully.  But I just want to talk about Mr (Dr?) Musmanno tonight.
As I walked amongst the never ending menagerie of grave-sites, this one stood out at me.  In fact, it was the only picture I took all day.  This guy lived a life, man.  3 wars, 16 books, 7 degrees, and so much more.  Talk about living life to the fullest.  You, sir, are my hero.  I wonder what he was like.  Was he married?  Was he likeable? Friendly?  What were his degrees in?  I know I can google him and find out everything and more, but I am just waxing curious, you know?  What a guy to be around.  I wonder how many friends he had.  How inferior they must have felt.  Oh... I only have 2 degrees and only fought in 1 war...
Matching up to Michael would be impossible.  I hope he was gracious and humble.  What a way to live, though.  I like how there's no birth and death date on the tomb.  Its almost like it doesn't matter when he was born or when he died, what matters is what he did with the time in between.  And it seems he did quite a lot.  Good for you, man.  Good for you.  Way to live in the in between.  I can only hope to live as fully.
But the fact of the matter is that even with multiple tours in multiple theaters, even with SEVEN degrees and 16 book deals.  Even though he was a judge and everything else, Michael Musmanno still died.  The truth is that the lowly gravestone down the road that said read "He loved his Savior, and his Savior loves him" speaks volumes louder than the laundry list of accomplishments that Michael racked up.  There's no place that magnifies that reality louder than in a cemetery - especially one as beautiful and massive as Arlington.  It doesn't matter how many stars he had on his uniform or how many people's lives he saved in battle- every one of those men and women died.  And every one of them has to be held accountable for the sin they inherited from Adam.   Methinks the Judge cares not about our valor, rather He cares about our Savior.  Blessed are we beyond measure that His innocent blood covers my incredulous nature. 
So, I strive to your greatness, Rear Admiral Musmanno.  Truly.  You have learned much, fought hard, and given more to this country than most ever will.  I hope that all your learning and fighting didn't distract you from the one that fought to save you from sin, death, and the devil.   I hope to have as many accolades as you- not so that I gain fame (ok... maybe a little fame...) but because it means that I spent my time on this earth well, that my life was fully lived.  That would be pretty neat.  But I hope that my grave-maker doesn't waste chisel-time on my accomplishments, but rather it lists Christ's who lives within me: He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.

Update:
I googled him, and found that the other side of his grave reads:
"There is an eternal justice and an eternal order, there is a wise, merciful and omnipotent God. My friends, have no fear of the night or death. It is the forerunner of dawn, a glowing resplendent dawn, whose iridescent rays will write across the pink sky in unmistakable language - man does live again.' 
The final words of Michael A. Musmanno in his debate with Clarence Darrow, 1932."

Good for you, sir. It makes my heart glad to know that he knew his Savior.

So much to say

Oh bla(h)g.
I haven't forgotten about you, I promise.  I just have had a lot rattling around in my brain currently.  I think that writing to you makes some of my thoughts and decisions permanent, so I have been more-or-less avoiding you.  Its nothing personal, please believe that.  Its just that I am in a season of wading whilst I wait, thus posting on you and fully processing just isn't what I'm interested in right now.  That sounds harsh, forgive me, dear bla(h)g.  Soon I will fill your pages again... soon.   You should know that your role in my life will change in the near future.  I'm working on a pretty exciting new project and you will be my waiting room and sound board.  I think you'll like the change of pace. 
I will tell you more later.
In the meantime, please know that I am well. Blessed, really. Blessed.  I am content to be a tad confused and I am very optimistic about what the Big Guy has in store.  His Peace is something that cannot be fully described, but man is it overwhelming.  Good things, bla(g)h, good things.  It is 1:03 in the morning and I have get to leave in two and a half hours to catch a flight to the District (that's what the cool kids call it, I hear...).  This is truly a dream come true.  Many a Where in the World is Carmen San Diego was spent wishing I could capture her and get a free flight to D.C..  Well, this one certainly isn't free, but it is landing at Regan, so I'm pretty stoked.  Oh the places I'll go!!
Alas, good night old friend.  Thanks for being so solid over the past 3 years.  I'm sorry I haven't been more faithful in keeping you up to date.  I will be in the future.  Have a great day and we'll talk real soon.

Fare Thee Well,
klh


P.S. Do it, Rockapella!!!!

Oh, Clive... you so wise.

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket-- safe, dark, motionless, airless-- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable."
-C. S. Lewis

Season by season I watch him amazed, in awe of the mystery of God's perfect ways.
All I have need of his hand will provide, He's always been faithful to me

6 hours

You know, there are a few landmark moments in my life in which the Lord made Himself and His redemptive work perfectly clear to me- when it clicked that He died for me... FOR ME!!!  One of those times was while I was sitting in a study hall my senior year of high school.  I had three of them...  I don't know why I picked up the book- I wasn't at all a reader- but I did and I read it twice in 3 days.  I bought the hard cover just so it would hold up to my re-reads... Such a powerfully simple book that I still read often.  I have a couple of copies in various places so I can jump in when needed. That book is "Six Hours One Friday" by Max Lucado.

I still am in awe when I read it.  I try to just read one section, but it inevitably turns into a cover-to-cover marathon.  I know that there are better books out there, chances are I have them in my library, but for whatever reason, this one touched me deeply 13 years ago, and still does today.

I get to preach on the the thieves on the cross tomorrow.  I looked to Lucado for inspiration, and found it in spades.  mmm... so good.

So, as my Lenten gift to you, Chapter 13 of "Six Hours One Friday"
The Eleventh Hour of Grace:

     Nicodemus came in the middle of the night. The centurion came in the middle of the day. The leper and the sinful woman appeared in the middle of crowds. Zacchaeus appeared in the middle of a tree. Matthew had a party for him.

     The educated. The powerful. The rejected. The sick. The lonely. The wealthy. Who would have ever assembled such a crew? All they had in common were their empty hope chests, long left vacant by charlatans and profiteers. Though they had nothing to offer, they asked for everything: a new birth, a second chance, a fresh start, a clean conscience. And without exception their requests were honored.

     And now, one more beggar comes with a request. Only minutes from the death of them both, he stands before the King. He will ask for crumbs. And he, like the others, will receive a whole loaf.

     Skull’s hill---windswept and stony. The thief---gaunt and pale.     

     Hinges squeak as the door of death closes on his life.

     His situation is pitiful. He’s taking the last step down the spiral staircase of failure. One crime after another. One rejection after another. Lower and lower he descended until he reached the bottom---a crossbeam and three spikes.

     He can’t hide who he is. His only clothing is the cloak of his disgrace. No fancy jargon. No impressive résumé. No Sunday school awards. Just a naked history of failure.

     He sees Jesus.

     Earlier he had mocked the man. When the crowd first chorused its criticism, he’d sung his part.¹ But now he doesn’t mock Jesus. He studies him. He begins to wonder who this man might be.

     How strange. He doesn’t resist the nails; he almost invites them.

     He hears the jests and the insults and sees the man remain quiet. He sees the fresh blood on Jesus’ cheeks, the crown of thorns scraping Jesus’ scalp, and he hears the hoarse whisper, “Father, forgive them.”

     Why do they want him dead?

     Slowly the thief’s curiosity offsets the pain in his body. He momentarily forgets the nails rubbing against the raw bones of his wrists and the cramps in his calves.

     He begins to feel peculiar warmth in his heart: he begins to care; he begins to care about this peaceful martyr.

            There no anger in his eyes, only tears.

     He looks at the huddle of soldiers throwing dice in the dirt, gambling for a ragged robe. He sees the sign above Jesus’ head. It’s painted with sarcasm: King of the Jews.

     They mock him as a king. If he were crazy they would ignore him. If he had no followers, they’d turn him away. If he were nothing to fear, they wouldn’t kill him. You only kill a king if he has a kingdom.

     Could it be. . .

     His cracked lips open to speak.

     Then, all of a sudden, his thoughts are exploded by the accusations of the criminal on the other cross. He, too, has been studying Jesus, but studying through the blurred lens of cynicism.

     “So you’re the Messiah, are you? Prove it by saving yourself---and us, too, while you’re at it”²

     It’s an inexplicable dilemma---how two people can hear the same words and see the same Savior, and one see hope and the other see nothing but himself.

     It was all the first criminal could take. Perhaps the crook who hurled the barb expected the other crook to take the cue and hurl a few of his own. But he didn’t. No second verse was sung. What the bitter-tongued criminal did hear were words of defense.

     “Don’t you fear God?”

     Only minutes before these same lips had cursed Jesus. Now they are defending him. Every head on the hill lifts to look at this one who spoke on behalf of the Christ. Every angel weeps and every demon gapes.

     Who could have imagined this thief thinking of anyone but himself? He’d always been the bully, the purse-snatching brat. Who could remember the last time he’d come to someone’s aid? But as the last grains of sand trickle through his hourglass, he performs man’s noblest act. He speaks on God’s behalf

     Where are those we would expect to defend Jesus?

     A much more spiritual Peter has abandoned him.

     A much more educated Pilate has washed his hands of him.

     A much more loyal mob of countrymen has demanded his death.

     A much more faithful band of disciples has scattered.

     When it seems that everyone has turned away, a crook places himself between Jesus and the accusers and speaks on his behalf.

     “Don’t you even fear God when you are dying? We deserve to die for our evil deeds, but this man hasn’t done one thing wrong.”³

     The soldiers look up. The priests cease chattering. Mary wipes her tears and raises her eyes. No one had even noticed the fellow, but now everyone looks at him.

     Perhaps even Jesus looks at him. Perhaps he turns to see the one who had spoken when all others had remained silent. Perhaps he fights to focus his eyes on the one who offered this final gesture of love he’d receive while alive. I wonder, did he smile as this sheep straggled into the fold?

     For that, in effect, is exactly what the criminal is doing. He is stumbling to safety just as the gate is closing. Lodged in the thief’s statement are the two facts that anyone needs to recognize in order to come to Jesus. Look at the phrase again. Do you see them?      “We are getting what we deserve. This man has done nothing wrong.”⁴

     We are guilty and he is innocent.

     We are filthy and he is pure.

     We are wrong and he is right

     He is not on that cross for his sins. He is there for ours.

And once the crook understands this, his request seems only natural. As he looks into the eyes of his last hope, he made the same request any Christian has made.

     “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.”⁵

     No stained-glass homilies. No excuses. Just a desperate plea for help.

     At this point Jesus performs the greatest miracle of the cross. Greater than the earthquake. Greater than the tearing of the temple curtain. Greater than the darkness. Greater than the resurrected saints appearing on the streets.

     He performs the miracle of forgiveness. A sin-soaked criminal is received by a blood-stained Savior.

     “Today you will be with me in Paradise. This is a solemn promise.”⁶

     Wow. Only seconds before the thief was a beggar nervously squeezing his hat at the castle door, wondering if the King might spare a few crumbs. Suddenly he’s holding the whole pantry.

     Such is the definition of grace. (121-125)

Notes

1. Matthew 27:44, NIV

2. Luke 23:39, Living Bible

3. Luke 23:40, Living Bible

4. Luke 23:41, NIV

5. Luke 23:42, NIV

6. Luke 23:43, Living Bible

 “Six Hours One Friday,” by Max Lucado,  published in 1989 by Multnomah Books.

Thank you Lord for your unfathomable grace.

de vine!

ha.  well, the 66 books in 66 days thing didn't quite come to fruition, but I still hope to get through them all.  Life just got in the way of the 2 month time frame...

I'm in between mission trips currently.  I just got back from FL and am off to AL on Friday.  I really love the road.  I love sleeping in a moving van, I love the sound of the road, the food selections from gas stations, living out of a suit case, and not knowing what city I'm in.  Methinks I'm destined to be on a tour someday.  That would be sweet.

On this last trip, however, something odd happened.  We were in southern Illinois- I was driving the lead van and my GPS said to take hwy 74.  The Suburban behind me had a GPS that told them to go hwy 55.  I went with 74.  Oh, and before that we were supposed to be back on the road at 7:45, but some girls were late, so we didn't get back trippin' till 7:55.  Fast forward to 10:10pm- about 50 miles after we committed to hwy 74 and we are stopped on the highway.  For two hours we sat on the road.  We got out and ran around, had a dance party, pillow fight, and Catch Phrase marathon, but we did not move for 2 hours.  It turns out someone's life was sadly taken in what seems to be a tragic hit-and-run.  It happened 10 minutes before we got there.  SO, had we been on time, it is entirely possible we would have witnessed something pretty traumatic. 

The whole scenario has not left my mind this whole week.  I cannot help but think that there was a divine purpose for our being on that road.  What? Why?  I have no clue.  We gathered around and prayed for the situation once we realized it was a pretty severe accident- there were no less than 2 dozen squad cars at the scene.  Other than that, it was just a time to goof around and hope we didn't kill the car battery while we sat and waited.  But we could have (and should have) been on hwy 55.  It was the better route- I knew that- I've taken it before... But I was feelin' 74.  Why would God want us to be on the road and two hours behind schedule?  Maybe there was another accident that we avoided by being where we were- who knows?  Is that how God works?  Events and situations are on a non-stop course, all God can do is maneuver His people around them in hopes we get through unscathed?  I don't necessarily think so, but I really can't say.  God's will is (thankfully) a mystery.  How feeble would God be if we, his (sinful) creation, were to have the capacity to fully understand his divine will?  That would make us gods, or, more aptly, it would make God only as mighty as the mightiest human, and by definition, he would thus cease to be a god.

Thankfully, this is not the case. 

God is bigger than we can even fathom.  He works in mysterious ways- but always for the good of those who love him and have been called according to his purpose.  But why the seemingly random and annoying events?  Maybe because I was really tough on this schedule- the pastor wasn't too thrilled about our late ETA, so I was trying to shave and save every minute so that we would arrive right at 9pm- we were ahead of schedule- and I was happy as a clam.  Then we stopped.  Maybe it was just a simple and gentle reminder that God is indeed the one in control.  That we can plan the course, but the Lord determines the steps (or, in this case, the drive).  Ironically, even after the 2 hour delay, we were STILL 10 minutes early.  Granted, our stops were really fast and furious, but we still made our deadline, which was pretty neat.

Why did we take that route?  Why did we have to wait?  Maybe it was another lesson in patience.  In waiting.  In "letting go and letting God".  All of those things were taught.  We literally could do nothing but dance and have a good time.  We couldn't go anywhere.  No one could be mad if we were late- it was out of our hands.  We had to be patient and wait for the road to re-open or (as it turned out) for the police to divert us back the opposite way. 
Regardless, I know that this was no coincidence or happenstance.  At least, I don't think it was.  Some folks say that there is no such thing as coincidence to a Christian... I'm not entirely sure that's true- I mean, sometimes our imaginations run wild and we connect dots that we maybe shouldn't (like 99% of the conspiracy theories out there).  But, I like to think that everything that occurs in my life is at the discretion of my Lord.  Whether or not that is true, I guess I cannot be certain, but I know that he has a plan to prosper me and not to harm me, I know he determines my steps, he commands his angels concerning me to guard me in all my ways, he knows the past and the future, he knows my name and cares for me exponentially more than he cares for the tiny sparrow, and most importantly, my eternal future is secured through his perfect Son's death and resurrection.  So I got that going for me... which is nice.  As for why I was on 74, maybe it was just so that I can have another story to tell... who knows?  I just know that next time I'll be taking 55.

“...sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself...”
― Donald Miller

Lent II Sermon: Lenten Contrast – Caiaphas & Nicodemus

... I'm not sure I'm sold on the ending yet... methinks there can be a little more graceful close, but it is late, so I will just have to revisit it in the morning.

Matthew 26:57
Those who had arrested Jesus took him to Caiaphas, the high priest, where the teachers of the law and the elders had assembled.
John 19:39
He was accompanied by Nicodemus, the man who earlier had visited Jesus at night. Nicodemus brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about seventy-five pounds.

Lenten Contrast – Caiaphas & Nicodemus

It is Election Season again.  Voters around the country have to choose what they want in their elected officials.

Regardless of which side of the aisle you’re on, I think we can agree that the people whom we elect to represent us should be people of integrity and character.  Perhaps we are looking for someone who is able to identify with the “common man” or is a strong public speaker or debater.  Maybe the candidate’s education or previous political experience are major factors.  There are dozens of factors that come into play when deciding which candidate you will vote for come November. 

Well today as we continue our Lenten series contrasting the major players in the Passion History of our Lord, we are going to look at two of the highest religious and political leaders in the Jewish world.  And, even though they probably came from similar backgrounds, we are going to discover an eternally important difference:

                           Between  Caiaphas and Nicodemus

                  1.  One was looking for a solution

                  2.  The other was looking for a Savior  

First of all, let’s examine the man Caiaphas.  From a human point of view, he was the best that the Jewish culture had to offer.  He and his family were the first to grasp what Jesus was claiming.  He was the first to happen upon a solution to the “Jesus problem” and he was skilled enough to maneuver both people and Romans into doing what they did not want to do. It seems that he was quite a man.

First of all, the Bible tells us that he was the High Priest that year.  That says a lot.  The office of High Priest was one of the most significant and exclusive positions that you could hold as a religious leader.   In lineage you had to be a direct descendant of Aaron.  When it came to conduct and morally, you had to be impeccable.   Your knowledge of the Torah and the Tradition of the Elders had to be complete.  Your dedication was to be absolute.  You were to be at the temple always.  You were always on call. 

Caiaphas fit those requirements to a T.  He was respected, revered, and feared.   And it shouldn’t come as a surprise when Jesus comes into the world, the High Priest becomes Jesus’ sworn arch-enemy.  After all, Jesus came to replace the High Priest with a better priesthood.  You see, the High Priest’s job was to offer sacrifices for the sins of the people, especially on that Great Day of Atonement when he alone would enter the Most Holy place of the temple to offer the blood of a sacrificial bull and ram and goat to atone for the sins of the people and make them at one with a perfect God once more.  But because the people and the sacrifices weren’t perfect, the High Priest would continue to have to do this year after year.  Talk about job security!

But this Jesus of Nazareth threatened to dispute this status quo.  If Jesus was indeed the promised Messiah, then all the sin of the entire world would be paid for and there would be no reason for these elaborate animal sacrifices.  The old order of worship with the sacrifices and ceremonial law would be obsolete.  In effect, Jesus’ work would render Law aspects of the Temple ritual and worship useless.  And that was the power that Caiaphas – and every other High Priest that came before him- held over the people, it would destroy the High Priesthood and all who worked under him (a fairly large bureaucracy with many mouths to feed!)

In fact this Jesus not only threatened to dispute the spiritual life and livelihood of the High Priest, but the entire political climate of the region.  The High Priest did more than offer sacrifices and supervise the Temple worship.  His position, especially with the loss of sovereignty to the Romans in 67 B.C., became politicized and secularized.  In effect, the High Priest was the Prime Minister of the Sanhedrin, the ruling council over Jerusalem.  He had become the local government. Depending on the strengths and preferences of the overlords, the power of the High Priest could also encompass the entire region of Judea, with some power over Jews scattered throughout the Roman world.  All that would be disrupted and destroyed if Jesus were crowned King of the Jews.  The resulting chaos could be catastrophic!  Needless to say this religious leader faced what he perceived to be a big problem.  So Caiaphas sat as judge over a rigged trial.  His verdict was written days in advance when he arranged for the arrest of Jesus at the betrayal of one of his closest friends.  He was so consumed with himself and his job and his desire to maintain the status quo that he missed the Savior that was standing in front of him.  To him, the solution to the “Jesus Problem” was to put him to death, to be done with him- to put him on a cross and into the ground and move on with the way things were.  But that solution would only be effective if Jesus was a mere man.  If the claims that Jesus made and Caiaphas rejected and despised were indeed untrue.  Caiaphas was banking on Jesus being a liar, but we know that he most certainly was not.  We know by faith that Jesus was indeed the Son of God, He absolutely was the Messiah that was promised in the Garden of Eden thousands of years prior, and no tyrant, cross or grave could keep Him from fulfilling His divine purpose of living a perfect life, suffering the death that we deserved, and rising again on Easter morn.  Truly, Caiaphas would soon find out that his solution was no solution at all.

Now there another Jewish religious leader mentioned in our text, and that is the man Nicodemus.  He was no slouch when it came to the requirements necessary for a religious leader.  He was a member of the Sanhedrin – the Jewish ruling counsel.  Because of that, he too would be well learned in the Scriptures.  He would be required to be upright and demonstrate the exemplary moral life in words and deeds.  He too would be respected and admired – a man and teacher of great power of influence over all the people. 

But he was also another religious leader who was in a quandary about this Jesus of Nazareth.  We find out in John chapter 3 that Nicodemus was impressed by Jesus’ miracles.  He was convinced that Jesus was “a teacher who has come from God”, but he still had questions.  Nicodemus wanted to talk to Jesus without any distraction, without any interruptions, away from the crowds that followed Jesus everywhere he went.  He wanted to speak with Jesus teacher to teacher to get some answers and some idea if this man might possibly be the promised Messiah.  So he went to Jesus alone and at night.  He had to keep it a secret, because by going to see Jesus he was taking a risk.  

He was risking his reputation.  He was risking his position on the Jewish ruling council because many of his brothers on the bench had already made up their minds about this man.  They didn’t like Jesus. They were jealous of Jesus.  In their minds Jesus was a threat, and he needed to be stopped.

And if Nicodemus was seen with Jesus, if it got back to the other members of the council that Nicodemus had been talking with Jesus, he feared that they might turn their animosity against him.  They could strip him of his position.  They could take away his power.  And Nicodemus wasn’t ready for that, at least not yet.  A lot of others in his position felt that same pressure as John 12:42-43 tells us:

Yet at the same time many even among the leaders believed in him.  But because of the Pharisees they would not confess their faith for fear they would be put out of the synagogue, for they loved praise from men more than praise from God.

As it turned out the risk was worth the reward because that candlelight conversation changed Nicodemus’ life forever.  He certainly was troubled because he knew the Scriptures – he knew what God was like and what he was like.  He knew that he was a sinner and that he couldn’t earn forgiveness and a home in heaven by his own works and merit.  And then Jesus told him things he had never heard before.  Jesus taught him about the kingdom of God and the Spirit of God and what it means to be born again.  Nicodemus was the first person to hear those beautiful words that are sweet music to our ears: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (3:16).

When Nicodemus left Jesus that night he didn’t have everything figured out, but the seeds of faith had been sown.  For the time being he decided to keep his visit and his feelings a secret, but he soon realized that he couldn’t keep quiet forever.

There you have it…two religious leaders…one who regarded him as a foe to be vanquished…the other as the Savior to be vindicated and proclaimed victorious.

two religious leaders – both devout men had to either embrace Jesus as THE promised one, or reject him as a heretic-  Caiaphas chose the ladder and was willing to be what was expedient – a solution HE could come up with that would make the situation beneficial for himself and his family.  The solution that would salvage his prestige and power and ensure his earthly security for succeeding generations.   And so almost automatically he knew what to do with Jesus.  He came up with a solution that swift and ruthless:  “Isn’t it better that this one man die so the whole nation doesn’t perish – so we can save our jobs, our livelihood, our way of life here and now?”  It became easy for him to eliminate this innocent one from his life and from the face of the earth.

But Nicodemus – this silent believer – came and sat at Jesus’ feet.   And when he did, he discovered a solution for the spiritual dilemma of sin which troubled his conscience and formed a barrier between him and his God.  Nicodemus desperately wanted a solution that was seemingly impossible for his to do on his own - to be born again as a child of God and heir of heaven.  He was desperately crying out for one who could do this for him – who could save him from his sin.  And on Good Friday at Golgotha he discovered what he was looking for – a Savior who would be the once and for all vicarious sacrifice for him – who would be beaten for him – who would offer his perfect life as the atoning price for all sins of all time – the sins of Nicodemus – as well as for the sins of you and me.  AS this learned rabbi gazed upon the cross, he undoubtedly understood the truth that the prophet Isaiah had proclaimed hundreds of years earlier:

But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.  WE all like sheep have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all!  53:4-6

All that is ours by grace through faith in Jesus Christ. And that’s the most important solution of all, not only for this life but also the life to come.

Nicodemus wasn't one of the twelve disciples, but he did something Peter and James and John and the other disciples weren't willing to do.  When he saw what his Lord had done for him he resolved to do something for his Lord.  In broad daylight he (and Joseph of Arimathea) took the dead body of Jesus down from the cross and gave him a proper burial. 

News of what Nicodemus had done was bound to get out.  Nicodemus knew that the Jewish leaders would eventually find out, but he didn't care anymore.  He didn't care who knew.  He wanted the whole world to know that he was a follower of Jesus.

And when it was reported that the strips of linen he had used to wrap Jesus' body were no longer wrapped around Jesus' body - when Nicodemus learned that the stone that had been rolled in front of the entrance to the tomb was no longer blocking the entrance to the tomb, he wasn't the least bit disappointed.  He had to have been excited - elated.  He knew in his heart that Jesus had risen.  And I would like to think that for the rest of his life Nicodemus told anyone who would listen that one day he would live with his Savior in heaven.

So as we look at these two religious leaders who were faced with the same dilemma of what to do about Jesus, may we always be Nicodemus.  May we always come to the Savior by faith and see him on that cross and know that because we believe in him we will not, but have everlasting life.  May we never forget that by his wounds we are healed.  May we always cherish the awesome fact that Heaven- eternity in perfection is ours through the death and resurrection of God’s one and only Son.  It is no coincidence that the name Nicodemus means "conqueror" or "victorious people,"- My friends, by the grace of God that is what we are. 

We are conquerors - We are more than conquerors through him who loved us, and so we can't be silent.  With our words and our actions, we declare our allegiance to God.  We confess our faith in God.  And we give all thanks and praise to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. 

He brews???

Sorry, the 66 books in 66 days thing was short-lived... its the thought that counts, right?
I came across this today:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/religion/9102740/Richard-Dawkins-I-cant-be-sure-God-does-not-exist.html
I don't know what is more jarring: Dawkins admitting that there could be a God or the Archbishop of Canterbury openly admitting that he is not a young-earth creationist... what does it mean to be a "Christian" these days? 
I am very excited to be going to an apologetics event next weekend.  I just might fill out my change of address form to California as soon as I get home. :)

My wednesday night Bible class is starting in on Hebrews in 2 weeks, which I am amped for, but in light of this news story, Hebrews 11:1-3 is very apt:
Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. ² This is what the ancients were commended for.
 ³ By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God’s command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible.

Dr. Dawkins and the like can be the scholarliest of all scholars but they cannot be sure of God, because they lack faith.  What a gift it is to know that there is indeed a God and He created me, saved me, and has a specific plan and purpose for me.  That's awesome.
Lord, soften the hearts of those who reject you that they too may know you and your Son, and can rest in the comfort of your loving arms.

Phil.

Philippians 3:12 as paraphrased by Eugene Peterson in The Message:

Focused on the Goal

 ^12-14I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don't get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I'm off and running, and I'm not turning back.  ^15-16So let's keep focused on that goal, those of us who want everything God has for us. If any of you have something else in mind, something less than total commitment, God will clear your blurred vision—you'll see it yet! Now that we're on the right track, let's stay on it.
 ^17-19Stick with me, friends. Keep track of those you see running this same course, headed for this same goal. There are many out there taking other paths, choosing other goals, and trying to get you to go along with them. I've warned you of them many times; sadly, I'm having to do it again. All they want is easy street. They hate Christ's Cross. But easy street is a dead-end street. Those who live there make their bellies their gods; belches are their praise; all they can think of is their appetites.
 ^20-21But there's far more to life for us. We're citizens of high heaven! We're waiting the arrival of the Savior, the Master, Jesus Christ, who will transform our earthy bodies into glorious bodies like his own. He'll make us beautiful and whole with the same powerful skill by which he is putting everything as it should be, under and around him.

I really like Peterson's take on this.   "Easy Street is a dead end street."  That's wonderful imagery...
Anyway, as I read this portion of Scripture- I actually read from the NCV- verse 12-15-  

¹² I do not mean that I am already as God wants me to be. I have not yet reached that goal, but I continue trying to reach it and to make it mine. Christ wants me to do that, which is the reason he made me his.¹³ Brothers and sisters, I know that I have not yet reached that goal, but there is one thing I always do. Forgetting the past and straining toward what is ahead,¹⁴ I keep trying to reach the goal and get the prize for which God called me through Christ to the life above.

Tonight, the idea of reaching that goal and the joy that is waiting at that finish line... unfathomable joy resonates.  I mean, that is what we are living for.  The fruition of our faith is eternity in Heaven.  We are all in the race, but we're in different parts- some are closer to the finish line than others, and still others have already crossed.  And me, at mile marker 31- I wish some of the people who have already crossed the line were still running beside me... but that's selfish because their race is complete.  Their struggle and training and falls and successes and all that goes into a lifetime of running is over.  They enjoying the fruits of the labor.  But, man, do I miss them sometimes. Soon enough I will join them... but every once in a while I wish they were here to run with me until I cross the finish line, you know?  Everyone knows that it is more enjoyable to have someone to run with you- to help pace you and to talk to you and keep you on course- and you can mutually encourage each other... sometimes I miss that pace partner who's race is over. 
Alas, I keep the focus.  I run on.  Enjoying the memory of when we were running together and looking forward to spending eternity not running- out of breath, tired, and weary- but in paradise- fully nourished, in perfect joy, and basking in the Light of God.  Until then, "stick with me friends. Keep track of those you see running this same course, headed for this same goal." 

This is a tune I appreciate tonight:

for starters

OK so it took me a couple of days, but I was busy navigating the flatness that is southern MN.  Alas, here goes nothing...
I decided to start in Jeremiah, mostly because it was where my Bible opened to... This probably is a bad idea, because I am so intrigued and yet baffled by Jeremiah- there is so much allusion and prophetic language that it gets confusing when read page by page... Anyway, Jer. 33:3 says: Call to Me and I will answer you, and I will tell you great and mighty things, which you do not know.  I gave a message yesterday in which I mentioned this verse when it comes to God promising to answer prayer... after reading the surrounding chapters, I'm not entirely sure I used it properly in context... thankfully, it was a mere mention in passing... 
Regardless, can you imagine what it was like to be an OT prophet?  Somehow God spoke to these men, and what they were told was often not what they (or their countrymen) wanted to hear.  But verse 33 is different.  God tells Jeremiah that there is hope for Israel.  He will bring healing to his people and Jerusalem will once again be restored.  There will be happiness and joy- wedding parties and people singing in the temple.  All will once again be well with the people of Judah and Israel.  Even though the people think that I am far off, God says to Jeremiah, I am still here and I will keep my promise and be kind to them and cause good things to happen to My people. 
BUT some crazy stuff had to happen first- verse 34 tells how Nebuchadnezzar was advancing and was about to storm Jerusalem.  Times were going to get worse before they got better, but God assured Jeremiah that He would keep His promise.  This is the wonder of wonders when it comes to our righteous God- even though we deserve rags and we deserve nothing but our Lord's rejection, He cannot and will not break His promises.  He is a perfect God, as such He cannot lie.  He cannot.  It is impossible- if He lies, He ceases to be God.  This cannot happen.  So, we rest in the assurance that this is not our home, Heaven is.  And we bank on the fact that He hears our prayers and His Son's blood is THE atoning sacrifice for our sin.  He promises to deliver us when we call upon Him, and that He will work all things for the good of those who love Him, according to His perfect will.  And, even when He seems far off- that is, when our sinful, selfish pride blinds us from seeing the cross- rather we look at the mirror of desperation- we are reminded that He hasn't moved.  He is still right beside us, nay, living within us.  Sometimes we traverse through tough terrain, but God is faithful and His mercy endures forever.  Just has he restored joy to Jerusalem, He restores joy to my heart, undeserved as I am.  Thank you, God for your unfailing faithfulness.
Man, Jeremiah is such a great section of God's Word... 36 is Jehoiakim burning the scroll because he didn't like what it said and Jeremiah just wrote another one- God's word stands despite our trifle attempts to quell it... Then Jeremiah goes to jail and almost dies in a well... man... I need to just read this through and through... soon.
Tomorrow is 8am bball practice. eww.  then Philippians.  1 down, 65 to go.

idear.

I have an idea.  And I think it's awesome... if I say so myself.
I am going to post something from each book of the Bible every day for 66 days.  I think I'll have to miss a couple of days- since I'll be driving for 2 whole days to Florida... other than that, though, I think this will be sweet.  Now where to start???  Genesis is so predicable... :)  We will see... tomorrow, perhaps??? Vision!  Purpose!  fun!!!

ho hum

Man I have really enjoyed this winter.  Especially since the past two were to brutally snowy and cold.  This year's mild snowlessness has been a welcomed treat.  I'm not one to excessively comment on the weather, but seriously, it is noteworthy in its fantasticalness.  So sunny and (relatively) warm... not too shabby.  Currently, however, I have a cold and my nose is quite stuffy.  I was bragging about how I never get sick, and of course here I am a Rudolph. That's what I get, I suppose... it'll pass soon enough.

I've written many bla(h)g posts in my head recently, and I'm kinda bummed that they never made it to fruition.  There's a lot to think/write about.  Currently I'm thinking about this whole "a year ago" thing-
I could get pretty bogged down with stuff- I don't know why it matters, why anniversaries are a big deal-a year ago my car was broken into, its been a year since I last saw my mom not in a hospital bed, a year since we went with our guts, that kind of thing... and soon enough it will be a year since everything started going down hill with my mom... its crazy to think about, and it will be a fine line to tread between intentionally remembering and honoring the past and looking toward the future.  I  think that balance shouldn't be too hard to find, but it is something that I'm thinking about nonetheless.  All the more reason why I am exceedingly grateful that this winter has been so lovely.  God is good!

Perhaps that is the best thing to gain from looking back 365 days- remembering the pain or the joy and seeing how even in the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, I was always safely in the grip of our loving Savior.   Even if, in my sinful nature, I felt as if I was all alone, I wasn't.  Not even close.  Each and every time I was seen safely to shore through the storms and now I am enjoying the higher ground of perspective and experience.  And, while those things certainly suck to go through, they make me a better me and that is pretty great.  So even in the doldrums of death we can be thankful because our God is refining us in the fire of trials.  Good things.
I need nyquil.

Chisel Away

Man... no matter how many times I watch this it is always awesome.  They just updated it, and in my opinion made it more Christ-centered.
I just love the line, "You were never holding me up. I hold you up with my victorious, righteous, right hand. Don’t you forget that. In this relationship, I hold you up"
Thank you Lord.

6 days... plus 30

I said that in 6 days I'd bla(h)g... like 30 days ago... regardless, I'm glad I wrote that because it reminded me to write about jellyfish and lost dreams.
Several years ago I attended a youth workers convention in San Diego.  At that convention I Phil Vischer- the creator of VeggieTales- speak.  I liked his talk so much that I ended up buying a DVD of it.  He told the story of how his crazy idea of animated talking vegetables went from a cute idea to a multimillion dollar enterprise to bankruptcy in a matter of 5 years.  It is a fascinating story that I won't get in to, but he asked the question that I was thinking as I was listening... why?
Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago- I'm driving in my car on a Sunday morning heading to church.  Now, I don't know why exactly I have this tradition- maybe its to get me in the "worshipful" mood- or maybe I'm a pietist schwarmer- but for whatever reason, as I'm driving to church I always listen to Christian radio.  Sometimes it is already tuned in, but more often than not I have to dial in the ol' 98.5 for the 15 minute journey to church.  Anyway, I have it on and hear Phil Vischer talking about his VeggieTales story but this time he talks about how he wants to be a jellyfish, and I was reminded why I loved his talk that I heard 5 years ago, and why I too want to be a jellyfish.

Allow me to attempt to put them both in one nice and neat package.

First of all, why?  Why would God give Phil this huge ministry only to take it away?  Or why would God give Bob his dream job only for him to get laid off 6 months later? Or why would God put "the one" in Walt's life, only to have her go far, far away, never to see Walt again? Why?  Why do these awesome things happen only to seemingly randomly fall apart?  I see it all the time- I really do.  I'm don't think I believe in coincidences or fate or destiny.  That is, I know that God is Lord over all things.  He IS power, He IS dominion, He IS God... So, fate or happenstance- I don't think I buy into that.  I really don't know, though- because I wonder- does God care (care isn't the right word, but I hope you get my point) about Tebow winning football games? Or is God really helping me remember facts for a test that I didn't study for?  These types of things- to what extent God interweaves Himself into our daily activities, I do not know.  The classic example is a hot July Saturday there are dozens of brides praying earnestly for no rain so their wedding can go off without a hitch.  At the same time there are hundreds of farmers praying for a downpour so their crops can grow and they can feed their kids... who's prayers are more "important"?  OK, OK, those questions can be discussed later- but methinks they fall under the same general idea- Why does God do what He does?
Does this question make you feel as uneasy as it does me?  I don't like to ask that at all, because I trust God- I really do.  I know He is bigger than me, and I rejoice over that fact!  If God was only as intelligent or as mighty as the smartest, strongest man, imagine how hopeless we would be.  I know God is big, so strong and so mighty, there's nothing my God cannot do.  As such, I am not one to ask such a haughty question as why does God do what He does.
BUT.
I do wonder... so...
2 Kings 4 has an interesting story that could shed some light on this subject-
Whenever Elisha visited Shunem there was a woman who would feed him.  He came around enough that she and her husband even gave him a room on their roof to sleep in whenever he was in town.  Elisha was so grateful that he wanted to show her his gratitude.  She was along in years and she had no son, so Elisha told her that by this time next year she would be holding a little baby boy.  She was shocked and even said, "don't you mess with me, oh man of God!"  But Elisha wasn't messing with her- just as he said a year later she gave birth to a bouncing baby boy.  Such joy! Such jubilation!  All of her dreams had come true! 
The boy grew and everyone was happy until one  morning this young boy complained of a headache.  By noon he had died in his mother's lap.  The woman (we don't know her name) jumped on a donkey and rode out to Elisha.  She was in great anguish- in essence she asked, "why did you give me my dream only to have it taken away?!?!"  Why did you give me a son only for him to die so young?  Elisha told her to go back home, but the Shunammite woman said she would not leave Elisha's side.  So Elisha went with her to her home and found the boy dead on the couch.  Elisha prayed and then laid on the lad- eyes to eyes hands to hands mouth to mouth.  The boy sneezed seven times and woke up.  The woman had her son back and she praised the Lord.

What on earth?  Why did this all take place?  Why would God give this woman her dream- a son- only to have it taken away... to only give him back to her? 
I don't know. 
But Vischer thinks, and I just might agree with him, that this happened so to make sure that God was still Lord of her life.  That is to say, it is easy to rely on God when your dreams are shattered and your hopes are dashed, right?  After all, when the going gets tough, the tough get praying.   But what about when that dream comes true?  I know I struggle to be the one leper who thanks God for healing.  I'm often out enjoying being healed, you know?  I've seen the movie story line over and over again- the nerdy kid becomes popular and forgets where he came from- that kind of an idea.  Perhaps this was a test to see where the Shunammite woman would turn when her dream had (literally) died.  And what did she do?  She turned immediately to God.  And she wouldn't leave His servant.  Her eyes were still heavenward- even though her dreams had come true, so God returned her to her dream.  Her son was restored to life. 
I like that explanation of this account.  I haven't read any commentaries on 2 Kings 4, so I don't know if that is a widely held summation or not, regardless, I'm a fan.  We are so blessed.  We have so many good and wonderful things in our lives- things that can easily become a distraction.  We pray and pray for this or that, and when we are given it, we forget about the source.  (I realize I'm speaking generally here).  Thanks be to God that He sometimes takes those things away so that we might regain focus on the Source of all our blessings.  Sometimes He gives us our dreams back.  Sometimes- as with Job- He gives it back exponentially grander than before!  And, sometimes, our dreams stay dead.  God, however, is still there.  He is still God.  He is still Lord over our lives.  He is what matters.  His love and grace and salvation won through Jesus is THE dream come true in our lives, and we are assured that nothing can separate us from the love that is in Christ Jesus.   Shattered dreams are a gift from God.  The lost job, broken heart, departed loved one, and forgotten friend are all reminders that our faith in Jesus is all that matters. 
He is Lord over our lives. 
Apparently,  according to Phil, jellyfish, for the most part, are unable to propel themselves.  At least, they can't cover great distances under their own power.  Rather, jellyfish are largely dependent on the tides and currents to take them to where they want to go.  And this is OK because the current will keep them in warm water which is rich with their primary food source. As long as they ride the current, they're happy as clams.
I want to be a jellyfish.  If God has Lordship over my life, and I truly trust in Him-  If my hopes and dreams are truly in His hands and my greatest hope is in His Son's suffering and death on the cross, then I should have no problem letting His current take me to where He wants me to be.  Why would I want to try and swim against the current- I'd only wear myself out and get nowhere.  Rather, if I just trust the current like a good jellyfish, I can relax and know that I'm being taken to warm water rich with food.  My joy and worth and completion doesn't rest in my dreams coming true, rather my joy and worth and completion is found in a loving God sending His one and only son to live the perfect life that I was unable to live, die so that I wouldn't have to, and rise again so that I could do the same.  What Joy!  He loves me THAT much?  I'm worth Jesus' life??  Such worth!  He who makes all things new is living within me through the waters of baptism??  I'm complete!  These... these are good things.