tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42790687232788998832024-03-12T17:13:14.333-07:00The Front PorchUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-89066085479870359322020-06-10T05:14:00.000-07:002020-06-10T05:14:53.468-07:00For RighteousnessHave you ever wondered why the cook seldom comes to the table as hungry as everyone else? One day it dawned on me watching my Mamaw cook and then sit down to a meal. She never seemed to be as hungry as others gathered around the table, and on this particular day, I realized the reason for this crazy situation. Mamaw nibbled a lot while she cooked, tasting and seasoning, and of course, stirring. All of her nibbling made her almost full well before the true meal began. As a result, her food began to settle as she ate smaller portions. Then, when everyone else was filled with the plentiful feast, she was ready for a healthy portion of dessert. Others, just a small piece. Now I know the truth. The reason she was always ready for dessert immediately following the meal is because the main part of her meal happened an hour or so before.<br />
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I'm like Mamaw when it comes to my spiritual life. I do a lot of nibbling. A podcast here and there. A 20 minute message. A challenging quote. A quiet time rushing me into my day. I wonder if you nibble as well.<br />
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Jesus said, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied" (Mathew 5:6). Hungering and thirsting for right standing with God paints quite a different picture from the nibbling that simply tides us over to the next snack. Too often, my commitment to a right standing with God is like deciding to get healthy and quit eating ice cream. I do it for a while, but then I start to miss the ice cream. I know that the spare tire around my middle won't go away without discipline, yet the allure of Gold Medal Ribbon, Rocky Road, or a Spanish Sundae pulls with greater intensity the more I resolve to stay away.<br />
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Satan knows just how to get us full before we are satisfied. He soothes our hunger with relationships, with reading posts on social media, with random quotes and devotions that pop up from time to time. He fuels our hunger with politics, with press, with piety, and with petty arguments. In the end, we settle for tidbits of God rather than transformation from God. Or at least I do. Do you? Satan is a professional when it comes to tricking our spiritual hunger into feeling satisfied by the nibbling, tasting, and stirring that happens occasionally in our lives. We think that because we got small pieces of something healthy we must be well nourished. Jesus disagrees, and I desperately want to be on His side of spiritual health.<br />
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Sunday in our worship gathering we talked about three keys to being satisfied, and this week I am trying to meditate on those and consider how to make them more of a reality in my life. The three keys were<br />
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1. Satisfy desire with substance - stop nibbling, and dig into the main dish - the living and active Word of God.<br />
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2. Seek perfection over pleasure - stop reading posts and press for agreement - instead look deep into the word for challenges to our current way of thinking - generational sin and biased can be changed if we will open our minds to what the Spirit teaches from His Truth.<br />
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3. Season truth with love - Spices make foods a lot more palatable - who eats a plain potato and really enjoys it? The seasoning of love can make truth more palatable to the world around us. Truth is essential for health, and love is essential for hearing. I pray that I will cease being bland and instead will be a pleasing tasting of Christ to those around me.<br />
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Blessed - satisfied - those words sound ever so sweet. Are they possible? Jesus offers a resounding "YES." Hunger and thirst after righteousness, and you will be both blessed and satisfied. Amen.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-89586478321700265312020-05-29T14:52:00.001-07:002020-05-29T14:59:39.893-07:00EighteenIn case you are wondering, none of the tricks actually work. No matter how hard you try you will never be able to stop time. Of course, during this quarantine for COVID 19 we may all feel that time has come to a grinding halt, but with all of the cancellations COVD 19 has brought our way, the one cancellation I was hoping for pressed on and pressed hard. Today marks the day when the world became a better place for me and for many others. May 29, 2002, my precious Caroline Donnelle Permenter entered the world with a heart of independence and passion. Oh how I thought I could hold onto every moment, while all along the moments were slipping by.<br />
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New born became preschool which became elementary school which became middle school which became high school which now will become college. Why are our lives marked by the educational levels we have reached and surpassed? We have pictures to remind us of school plays, of dances (my daughter is the most beautiful dancer you will ever see, by the way - and of course, I am not biased), of sporting events, of birthday parties, of proms, and of so much more. Photographs fail to grasp the most important part of humanity and more specifically the most important part of my princess.<br />
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Deep beyond the shutter, the flash, the negatives (for those who are older) and deep beyond the three cameras of the latest iPhone (for those who are quite a bit younger), a daring and brave little girl waits for the next chapter of her life. Deep behind the smile, a caring and brave young woman anticipates all the future holds. Deep, deep in her soul, one blessed with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places reaches forward to embrace life to the fullest.<br />
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Because of Caroline's life, friends have been encouraged. Because of her life, a little brother has been protected. Because of her life, an older brother has learned to deal with various emotions (which will aid him greatly as he enters marriage in a few months.) Because of Caroline, younger girls have grown deeper in their walk with Christ and Christian leaders have been challenged to be true to their own teachings. Because of Caroline some children who are victims of trauma will have a caring advocate working to help them recover and rebound. Because of Caroline I have seen the value in taking an honest look at life and doing the hard work to change a trajectory heading toward destruction. Because of Caroline I have seen what a Christ follower with a bold tenderness can do in a world that rejects you more times than you might prefer. When I write "because of Caroline," I am thinking "because of Christ in Caroline" because when I take time to stop and consider who she really is, I see Jesus - and more than anything seeing Jesus in her makes me smile.<br />
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I have a playlist on my phone entitled "Caroline." The time I lost with her during a trying part of our family's history provides the context for the playlist. As the songs resonate in my inner being, I am challenged to take every moment and ask "What now?" No one can change the past, but we can certainly adjust the future. Two songs on the playlist are <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nrWMBC6yoME" target="_blank">Cinderella</a> by Stephen Curtis Chapman and <a href="https://youtu.be/Vyjq5SCbjQk" target="_blank">My Wish</a> by Rascal Flatts. Caroline and I used to dance together to Cinderella, and My Wish reflects much of what I hope for her moving forward. What is my wish for Cinderella? My wish is that midnight would never come. My wish is that she would know deep in her soul that she is a princess no matter what the world may tell her. My wish is that she would embrace her belonging in the world, with her friends, in her church, in life. My wish is that the evil of so called high school friends would make her stronger and more discerning. My wish is that any pain I have caused from the mistakes of figuring out life after my own trauma will diminish and blossom into a beautiful rose. My wish is that above all Caroline will love the Lord her God with all her heart, soul, mind, and strength, and that she will love her neighbor as herself. What a blessing the Lord gave me 18 years ago to participate in the life of this dynamic, distinct, deep spirited, dearly loved lady.<br />
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Happy Birthday Caroline.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-72257488543210236172020-05-16T04:57:00.002-07:002020-05-16T09:13:15.514-07:00If I Have To Be LonelyFor some reason a common theme surfaces early in the morning when I am able to sit a while and mediatate on the goodness and mercy of the Lord in my life. Relishing His presence, I long for deeper and more meaningful time with Him. As the sun rises and the birds begin their chorus, the stillness of the moment hangs in the balance. Soon life will begin and chaos will likely storm into the moment. Chaos refuses to carry a pattern. Any disruption to solitude can be chaos. Even pleasant disruptions break the calm, and in an instant, chaos, whether managed chaos, organized chaos, or hot mess chaos forces the quiet away until another time. The calm hides while the chaos hurries in, and the common theme hunts for a bridge between the two. Folks I hear from feel it. Articles are being written about it. COVID 19 has made the subject even more popular. Some seek help, and others send messages. Some choose to avoid the feeling with substance or suicide. Both are happening in greater numbers lately. The emotional pandemic fights against discrimination and affects families and individuals from all walks of life. Economic status? No discrimination. Race? No discrimination? Religious background? None here either. Christ follower or not? Nope, the pandemic doesn’t discriminate even at that deepest level.<br />
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Loneliness invades our being and does things to our emotions and bodies that even the best psychologists are still trying to understand. While scientists work to understand the various effects of a virus, loneliness travels deeper and deeper into our core and wins battle after battle in a world where many are forced by fear or caution or sickness or compassion to be alone. The lonely know a secret about the virus. Loneliness can be asymptomatic at times. In a crowded grocery store, a jammed theme park, a full worship gathering, a classroom, or a senior prom people are infected without others knowing it. Loneliness doesn’t pass from person to person in the same form it holds within us. Usually loneliness passes to others as anger, bitterness, harshness, aloofness, shyness, quietness, or any other “ness” you can think of. Loneliness remains, often, undiagnosed because it is so well disguised.<br />
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Reba McEntire (you knew she had to surface again at some point, right?) sings a song with this lyric, “If I have to be lonely, I’d rather be lonely alone.” Most who suffer from this emotional weight agree with her statement. Being lonely in a crowd intensifies the pain. Better to be alone and have a reason for the feeling than surrounded by activity and beat yourself up about why you can’t seem to enjoy the moment, right?<br />
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During my time with the Lord this morning, I was reading one of Max Lucado’s books, <i>Traveling</i> <i>Light</i>. As he always does, he brought Psalm 23 to life. One part in particular he focused on was “for you are with me.” That’s when he talked about loneliness, and the Lord reminded me that as a Christ follower I am never really alone. Perhaps I feel alone. Maybe physically I am alone. With the Holy Spirit, though, I am never really alone. Now that truth doesn’t always make everything okay. Don’t be tricked into more shame for not being able to “snap out of it” just because some author reminds you of God’s presence. Likely, you already knew in your mind that God is always with His children. What we know in our minds does not always connect with what we feel in our souls. What the truth does, however, is point us to a raft. Perhaps it’s a tiny, poorly built raft, but the raft floats. It’s a little far on the ocean of our pain, but if we can just draw from His strength for a moment perhaps we can get to the raft. Give it a try. Breathe deep and make some movement. It can be like treading water at first. If that is all you can muster, then tread like never before. Treading will keep your head above water. Now begin to move forward. No need to go too fast. We aren’t swimming in the Olympics here. We are just swimming to survive. Once you get to the raft, hold on. No need to climb yet. Baby steps. Now climb on. The raft reminds me of the cross. Jesus gave His life on a rugged (not so tiny and unfortunately very well built) cross so we could have something to see in the middle of our loneliness that could bring us hope. Where will the raft take us? Likely somewhere different for each of us, so at this point the blog becomes yours. How does your story continue? Maybe take a minute and journal some thoughts about your loneliness, your raft, and the rest of your journey.<br />
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I’m on my raft. I see some others. Paddling along moving somewhere. Anywhere. Do you see others? Alone, but also together. Working to get to the arms of Jesus and suddenly realizing that we aren’t the ones paddling the raft. His arms are doing the work for us. Be encouraged today.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-44769982405497340532020-04-26T04:48:00.000-07:002020-04-26T04:48:33.390-07:00Thrown InRarely in our lives do we have the chance to watch history unfold and to recognize that we are part of something that will change the world forever. Sometimes we live in the moment and later come to understand the impact of the experience on society. Other times the dramatic impact slows down the pace of life and forces us to stop and consider what the future will hold. We are living in one of those times now as the year 2020 enlightens us with a reminder that we are not in control of much in this world. As human beings, we boast of our intelligence and our might. We live in the worlds we have made and convince ourselves that we are in charge. This COVID 19 crisis requires us, however, to embrace a new way of thinking and to adapt to a new way of living. How we choose to respond will in large part determine the quality of our lives moving forward. What will we do? Will we resist the pull of the future or will we jump in and engage with what lies ahead?<br />
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John 21 gives life to an experience that some men had thousands of years ago after they experienced an event that would change the world forever. The death and resurrection of Jesus brought their world to a screeching halt, and they spent time considering what their future would hold. These men found themselves pondering whether they would embrace a new way of thinking and adapt to a new way of living or if they would, rather, resist the pull of the Holy Spirit in their lives into a whole new world.<br />
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Seven of the remaining eleven disciples decided to go fishing for the day, and like many fishing excursions, they caught nothing. As they were about ready to give up, a man called out to them from the seashore, inquiring about their catch. As they relayed their sad story, the man suggested that they cast their net on the right side of the boat. They did so, and a miraculous load of fish filled their nets. John realized the man was not just any man, but instead, they were seeing Jesus for the third time since his resurrection. He looked to Peter, and he said, "It is the Lord." The narrative reveals that Peter immediately threw himself into the water to get to Jesus. He jumped all in, embracing the future like never before.<br />
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Many interesting thoughts surface as I read this chapter. Questions like, "what is the significance of Jesus' third appearance to them?" Raised after three days. Peter's third denial before the rooster crowed. Questions like, "what prompted them to go fishing this day?" Just looking for something to do. Going back to the comfort of the familiar. Another interesting thought circles my mind when I visualize Peter throwing himself into the water. Rash behavior characterized Peter's life from the little we read of him in the gospels. His boldness often got him into hot water, but this time he literally chose to dive in.<br />
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When Jesus called Peter to follow him, Peter threw himself into the miracles and the mystery of Christ. Peter's experience with Jesus opened his eyes to a world he had never known before. A relationship with God filled with more than religion captured his heart, and he found himself following with reckless abandon. When soldiers arrested Jesus, Peter threw himself into a mess of confusion, at times fighting back while at other times running away. This day on the sea introduced a new opportunity for Peter. This time he threw himself into the mercy of Jesus. For the first time since his denial, Peter would spend significant time with Jesus over a meal. The other appearances allowed the disciples to see Jesus alive, but this appearance would allow them to see Jesus live - and would allow them to decide if they would live with him or without him. Peter threw himself into the mercy of Jesus not knowing what the future would hold. Seemingly, he decided the only hope he had was Mercy, and if there was no Mercy from Jesus there would be no meaning for his life.<br />
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How is your time alone panning out? Are you anxious or restless? Have you filled your days with virtual work and extended your hours into the evening? Eating more and exercising less? Have you taken the time yet to stop and to reflect on Jesus? This COVID induced retreat allows us to ask ourselves some challenging questions about our walk with the Lord. What have we thrown ourselves into? Miracles, mystery, mess? Or Mercy? Could I invite you to consider along with me using this next week to bathe in the Mercy of Christ? At this point we all could use His Mercy. At this point we all could share His Mercy.<br />
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The nets are empty. Loneliness, job loss, financial stress, health issues. Empty. Listen ..... "Cast your night on the right side ...... that's where you will find Mercy." Overwhelming mercy fills the net. "It is the Lord!" Will you throw yourself into the water and swim to the feet of Jesus?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-739012408011770372020-04-16T05:37:00.000-07:002020-04-16T05:37:35.075-07:00The Heart Of WorshipDo you remember the song, Heart Of Worship? It first appeared on the worship scene late 1990's and early 2000's. Maybe you've never heard the song at all. If you are interested in listening, click on this <a href="https://youtu.be/P-Zp586pvZg" target="_blank">link</a>. The song takes us into a reflective moment of what worship truly means. Romans 12:1-2 come to mind.<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">"I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect."</span></i><br />
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A contemporary worship service introduced me to the song, Heart of Worship. Lights, cameras, and staging surrounded the band, and as they went from upbeat sounds into this thoughtful tune, the lights dimmed to prepare our senses for what would come next. A quiet space encompassed the crowd as coffee cups settled nicely onto the floor. Hands began to be raised as voices lifted words of praise and affirmation to the God of Creation that our worship was really about nothing other than being in His presence. Pure intent tells me the song was meant to create a movement among God's people of focusing more on the Creator than the created environment in the room at any given moment. What happened?<br />
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History certainly repeats itself, and the historical struggle in the church over worship provides another example of the cycle. Over the last twenty years, we as God's people have been blessed with worship music, creative arts, and powerful messages that engage our minds, our bodies, our emotions, and sometimes our souls. Crowds gather regularly to connect with one another, to join in singing, and to hear challenging teaching from God's word. Or at least they used to gather. That was before COVID 19. The way things used to be. One generation's story to tell a new generation. A front porch pondering as folks remember what it was like "in the good ol' days." Large buildings turned into convention centers or museums much like we see when we travel to Europe - or when we used to travel to Europe. We are at a moment in time that will be a pivot point, a reference point, a new chapter in the virtual school books of the future.<br />
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Could the introduction of the song Heart of Worship during another pivotal time in history (Y2K) have been a prophetic foreshadowing or even a warning that we as Christ followers desperately need to connect with the Holy Spirit on more than a physical and emotional level? Could the Spirit have been calling us into a deeper relationship with Him that we somehow missed? Instead of letting the music fade and all be stripped away, we created flashier sets, bought more lights, tuned more instruments, added more flair. Instead of bringing messages from God's word that helped us grow deeper, we filled the space with words about happy marriages, fulfilling our dreams, fighting against society's evil. What if we heard the call for a more intimate relationship with Christ and have settled for a pornographic mockery of what it really means to worship Him?<br />
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Our time at home during this pandemic and economic shutdown challenges our belief system. John 20:24-29 tells the story of Thomas wanting his own experience with Jesus. He refused to settle for the experience of his friends. Jesus received Thomas and allowed him into his personal space. Oh I long to be in Jesus' personal space. From posts on social media and comments in other places, many in the body of Christ are waiting for the gatherings to resume before engaging with the Spirit. Many spiritual journeys are on hold. What could happen if the Lord allowed this shutdown to continue until He got our attention? What if gatherings were closed until we realized that worship is not about where we gather or who we are with? What if the music, the media, and the messages are more of a distraction than a help? What if the Lord is wanting to speak into our hearts and is trying desperately to get into our lives through the noise? What if we lived in a place where worship gatherings were always prohibited? Are we only able to worship because we were born in a free country? Would we be able to know God if we lived in Asia or the Middle East where the noise would invite possible death?<br />
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Working from home, schooling from home, and finding ways to occupy our time during this stay at home part of our lives does not always mean quiet time. We still may have to work to find time to be still. Now is the time. Revival and renewal can start today right where you are in your chair, on your porch, by your pool, in your yard - wherever you are. If we would pour ourselves into being living sacrifice and meet the Lord in a personal way without the distraction of everything else around us, revival would begin. And then what if your neighbor did the same thing? And then her neighbor? And then his neighbor? Now it's your neighborhood. Then your community. Then your church even in various places. Perhaps this time in history can become known as the Bug That Brushed Casual Christianity to the Curb.<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Romans 8:28 "And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good,[a] for those who are called according to his purpose." (ESV)</span></i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-17848265636020512222020-04-11T12:32:00.002-07:002020-04-11T12:32:30.463-07:00Blessings<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Several years ago, Laura Story recorded a song called </span><a href="https://youtu.be/XQan9L3yXjc" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: inherit; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; transition: opacity 300ms ease-in-out;" target="_blank">Blessings</a><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">. Feel free to take a moment and click on the word "Blessings" to hear the song again. The chorus resonates in my heart. </span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"><span style="color: #222222;">'Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops</span><br /><span style="color: #222222;">What if Your healing comes through tears</span><br /><span style="color: #222222;">What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near</span><br /><span style="color: #222222;">What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise<br /></span></span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Parenting discovered me unprepared for the task ahead. Ideal dreams and hopes for what family could be like were much like The Andy Griffith Show and The Waltons. When we would watch these shows as a family, I would wonder how Andy captivated Opie to the point of doing his chores willingly. I would ponder how the Walton children could have so little and embrace life so wildly. Now that I'm older I realize that scripting, directing, and television salaries contributed to much (ok, to all) of the world we entered as Mayberry burst into our home and as Walton's Mountain beckoned us to a quieter time. </span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">We used to partner alongside other parents and study the lessons of James Dobson, Chip Ingram, Ted Tripp, and The Rethink Group to train us to be better parents, engaged in our kids live, and teaching them to love the Lord with all their heart, their soul, their mind, and their strength. We had big plans that somehow never played out as well in our family room as they seemed to play out on screen.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Insert COVID 19 into our lives a few weeks ago. Everyone gathered at home leaving middle school, high school, and college behind. Online classes became the new norm. Virtual teaching took the place of the kitchen table, and virtual coaching with business planning dominated my home office. Life got very interesting very quickly. </span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: Birdseye, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">One of the blessings of living in Florida during this time of Stay at Home orders commands our attention. Sunny weather, warm temperatures, and steady breezes paint the day and find a way to help us relax outside for what often becomes extended moments in time. Our back porch has become our new place for meals, and in addition to some other ideas we have instituted, we have shared practically every meal together as a family for the last several weeks. Talking to one another has become comfortable again. Sharing about our time with the Lord has become encouraging and challenging. Laughing together, watching someone's favorite movie, and talking about what we are learning during this time highlight blessings that we somehow had forgotten. How often had I taught and been taught that having family meals around the table was paramount to a healthy family? How many times had we actually made that lesson a reality - until now. Until a tiny bug sent everyone home and pushed us to do what we should have been doing all along. Connecting with each other about things that matter. Eating together. Relaxing. Celebrating that the "trials of this life" may really be just "mercies in disguise" after all.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-61139584921362070242020-04-02T03:12:00.000-07:002020-04-02T03:12:27.157-07:00SoloNames of friends surfaced in our household over the last few days. Our family seized the opportunity life thrust us into recently as we adopted new practices of sharing meals together outside on the porch, watching favorite movies, working on projects together, exercising together, walking the dog together. These engagements opened space in our minds for conversations about folks in our lives who are special for many reasons. This unique frame of our lives sparks moments of nostalgia and longing for those we miss seeing and talking with, even when we may not have realized we missed the same people long before the rules of social distancing became the new normal.<br />
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Among the friends who came to mind, some are with family and some are alone. Being alone comes in many forms, as we all know. Some are alone in a crowded room. Others are alone by choice. Still others are alone by life's pattern of giving and taking away. The ones alone because of life's pattern come to mind more often during these days as we talk about the need to connect with those around us and the importance of getting to know the family in the walls of our homes. For many the stay at home orders quickly become a solitary confinement filled with empty days and meaningless racket from a square talking box in the center of our living spaces.<br />
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This morning during my time alone with the Lord, the word "solo" came to mind. Memories of my daughter singing rushed back with tremendous enthusiasm, bringing a smile to my face and to my spirit. The innocence and beauty of her voice resonated in my being for a time as the Lord reminded me of the blessings He so graciously gives as well as the lessons He so eagerly teaches. Caroline enjoys sitting at the piano to play and sing songs of worship to God. As she finds the tune with her fingers, her heart fills the room with melody. She could sing for hours in her world with the Lord and the piano or her ukulele. The accompaniment enhances and strengthens what is already a brilliant display of God's grace and mercy in her life.<br />
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I wonder if those who are living solo during this time will find their accompaniment. Volunteering at a food bank or counseling center, reading in a local school, quilting with friends, serving foster families accompanied many lives prior to the last few weeks and even the last few days. Listen carefully to notice the quiet that the lack of instrumentation brings. The soloist still sings, but the singing has become a capella. Where will the voice find a chorus to lift her? Where will the music find a chariot to carry him? What accompaniment will surface? Will the soloist become more comfortable alone?<br />
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In Psalm 63, David wrote about his time in the wilderness. He painted a verbal portrait of longing and seeking. His thirsty soul praised God based on the Lord's steadfast love. He sang out of the abundance of his soul from time spent with God, and he celebrated in praise from beneath the shadow of God's wing. From our knowledge of David, we could surmise that during these times David used a harp to aid his praise. Even in the wilderness David had his accompaniment. Would you take time now to pour over Psalm 63 asking the Lord to speak to you in some way with truth you can hold onto?<br />
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For me, the Lord whispered a couple of insights. Your insights possibly differ greatly from mine. The Spirit helped me see from this passage that the Lord himself can be the accompaniment of our lives when we "meditate on [Him] in the watches of the night; ..." and "cling to [Him]". Many who are living solo find deeper and more intimate ways to commune with the Creator as they meditate on and cling to Him. The second insight the Lord offered reminded me that even from a distance we can assist those who are living solo with accompaniment in their lives. This time could be the perfect time to sponsor a child from another place together through an organization like <a href="http://www.onemorechild.org/" target="_blank">www.onemorechild.org</a>. Work together with someone to change someone's life forever. Facetime with someone who lives alone. Sing together. Laugh together. Tell stories. Read a chapter from a new book together. Send a letter. Do a bible study. Families can connect from a distance with those who have given their lives to help others yet are now learning new ways to offer their worship and praise to the Father.<br />
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What did the Lord share with you from Psalm 63? Consider writing the thoughts down. Even better, consider reaching out to someone who might need some fresh accompaniment in his or her life. New life music birthed during this time offers excitement and richness that we often miss when the accompaniment comes too easy. Let's be artists for each other and see what the Lord provides.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-69457354067289408672020-03-31T06:03:00.002-07:002020-03-31T06:15:25.699-07:00Why Haven't I Heard From You<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Some of you recognized it immediately. It's an old Reba song, not a lament as to why you haven't called or written. Actually people seem to be working to keep in touch now better than before. If you haven't heard the song in a while (or ever, however horrific that might be) could I suggest you give it a watch on this world class video link? <a href="https://youtu.be/-d7vAbKTmus" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/-d7vAbKTmus</a><br />
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I could humor myself for a moment and pretend that everyone took time to listen and watch the Queen of Country Music. Instead I will simply continue .... Deep Sigh ....<br />
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Our world has entered a new era. A time of reprioritizing and refocusing. More people are taking walks. More people are looking for creative things to do at home with people who live in the same home, but are rarely together. We can look at our current situation through many lenses. One lens I have been considering this morning brings clarity to what I have longed for in our family. Time to really be together and to learn how to interact in ways that bond us rather than break us. Activity and assignments often give us a false sense of togetherness while at the same time blocking the deeper intimacy that we are created to experience.<br />
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Social distancing has forced us into our homes and has created chaos for many. What if we looked at the situation differently? What if, instead of being forced into our homes, we see this opportunity as a gift to connect with those we say are most important to us? Granted, some in our society are fearful of being home because of abuse and other poor living conditions. I pray for safety for the battered spouse, the abused child, the neglected parent. We have to find a way to intervene in those situations, as well. For a majority of us, though, our biggest challenge surfaces when we realize that we have connected physically through hugs, roughhousing, and sitting on the couch watching a movie as much as we possibly can stand. We have connected emotionally through tears and/or outbursts of anger. What do we have left? What we are faced with is moving into the part of our being activity and assignment allow us to ignore in our daily walking around with each other.<br />
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Each of us has an inner spirit that longs to be known. At some point in our younger lives our spirits get wounded, and when that happens the rest of our being finds ways to adjust and to adapt. Our physical reactions and emotional responses build walls around our spiritual core that keep everything safe. What will happen if we don't find a way to live in these small group family units at a deeper level once we have exhausted the routine relational rodeo of our previous daily existence? Some will self destruct. Others will separate into deeper shells. Many will surrender to depression and anxiety. Who among us will accept the challenge to go deeper with one another? What if our inner spirits are crying out "why haven't I heard from you"? The journey won't be an easy one. We will need each other to make it through. Community and support will look different, but connections are still possible.<br />
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I'm hoping that this week our family can embrace the now and swim in deeper water. I pray that we can answer the question that our spirits ask of us as individuals and of each other. "Why haven't I heard from you?" This deeper spiritual place is the place of peace that makes up our core being. Why leave that space in our lives untapped when we are living in a world that has made it acceptable to be still?<br />
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I hope you will join me tomorrow at this same place. I was reading this morning and found some other insights that were helpful to me about other spiritual connections. What if April showers (the time of our continued social distancing) could really bring May flowers (the result of our inner efforts during these next thirty days).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-35347720364505575162020-03-28T06:45:00.004-07:002020-03-28T06:45:38.940-07:00Shelter<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9jWp-xfs1vU/Xn9U10ent7I/AAAAAAAAAKw/yPB3e3wetBAoA_gYU-CgXNNqVKkJy0zkACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_0320.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1278" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9jWp-xfs1vU/Xn9U10ent7I/AAAAAAAAAKw/yPB3e3wetBAoA_gYU-CgXNNqVKkJy0zkACLcBGAsYHQ/s200/IMG_0320.jpg" width="159" /></a>In my home office, I have a painting of the Hundred Acre Wood. For Christopher Robin and friends, the Hundred Acre Wood provided a safe place for adventure and relationship. A new world opened for Christopher Robin as he left the cruel, lonely, grown up world and entered into a relational calm filled with life, love, and laughter.<br />
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As a child I would sometimes build tents in my home with blankets over tables and chairs. This tent served as my version of your treehouse, or your clubhouse, or your bedroom. A shelter to think in, to dream in, to live in, even if just for a few brief moments in time. Because the tent was not a permanent structure and had to be put away a few hours after construction, I learned to find another shelter to shield me from the world around me. At an early age, I built a shelter in my own mental and emotional world where I could experience a life that made sense to me when the life around me seemed to be spiraling out of control. This inner shelter soon became an outer shield where I lived much of my life in two worlds. Behaving and talking and performing in the physical world became common place for me as I lived and breathed another existence under the hard shell I crafted to keep my true self from exposure.<br />
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The new era of COVID-19 has forced many into their own shells. Six foot distancing, stay at home orders, lack of medical supplies, suspicion over a neighbor's cough. All of these have created communities that are behaving, talking, and performing in the physical world, yet living and breathing another existence trying to adjust to a new normal. We fill our shelters with physical supplies that will far outlast the crisis. We find ways to connect with one another via chat rooms and online communities. We use screens to hide ourselves from family members that we are now forced to spend time with in close quarters. Shelter pulls at us while reminding us that having a place of protection from the outside world remains a basic human need.<br />
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Psalm 91:1 says, "He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty." The reference leads us to a spiritual shelter where we find hope, peace, comfort, love, and security. We struggle to find the shelter because the journey of our lives has taken us other places far from our spiritual anchor. We each possess a spiritual place where we can be one with our Creator. Physical and emotional experiences steal the keys that lock the spiritual self away to keep us from getting into the depths that God has provided for us as a safe shelter. Physical trauma and emotional trauma come in many forms. I would encourage you to research where trauma comes from and broaden your mind to the ways the enemy twists our lives to prevent us from knowing solitude and peace.<br />
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This week has been a week of adjustment for our family, and I am sure that the week has been one of adjustment for you. Everyone is home now, and we are figuring it out. We could choose to retreat into our worlds or we could choose to let our worlds collide into new adventures and journeys that will keep us connected for years to come. Even as we find ways to interact and know one another, we still must find our shelter, our safe place, our version of the Hundred Acre Wood. We can go for a moment and relax, laugh, live, but we can't stay there. Somehow these worlds have to collide, too. Somehow we have to find a way to break through the physical and emotional mess that is keeping our spiritual selves locked away. Meditation can help. Music can help. Reading can help. Resting can help. Recreation can help. All of these tools are useful, and for me these tools, guided by the power of God's Spirit, can help me find the security I need to bring all of my worlds - as messy as they may be - into focus. Will you join me on the journey? Let's make these next few days and maybe weeks the most significant weeks of our lives. Don't let a small virus destroy your inner being. Society may struggle and possibly crumble. Who knows? I do know this for sure from my own experience with working through personal trauma. "... Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning." (Psalm 30:5, ESV).<br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Trauma-Heart-Wounded-Heal-Stories-Survival/dp/0757319815" target="_blank">https://www.amazon.com/Trauma-Heart-Wounded-Heal-Stories-Survival/dp/0757319815</a><br />
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<img height="200" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/516Uu0JeraL._SX321_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg" width="129" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-55675964315276946192020-03-24T05:36:00.000-07:002020-03-24T05:36:48.577-07:00When the Led Becomes the LeaderFor many folks, these last few weeks have become a whirlwind of emotion and stress. Not too long ago, we were planning for events and experiences that would propel us into new stages of our lives. Weddings, graduations, careers, tournaments, competitions, and other parts of our culture that have become commonplace. Today we live in a different world, at least for a time. We live in a world of waiting and wonder. The latest news update from the president or the governor bursts forth from our schedule as we listen intently to see how wide the virus has spread and what new limitations force us to get to know the people who are closest to us in ways that we might never have considered before.<br />
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Businesses are scrambling to know how best to support employees during this time. Churches are searching for new ways to keep a community of people together when physical distancing is becoming more normal. Therapists are scheduling more patients even doing so remotely because the fear grips at the very core of our being. Through this new medical war we are learning a lot about who we are as people and about what motivates us to do what we do.<br />
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This past Sunday morning I woke up at 3 am hoping that the worship service we had planned for our church was completely posted to the internet. People were anxious about not gathering together and wanted some gathering point even if the gathering point was online. It took about forty five seconds for me to walk down the hall to learn that my hope was not reality. The worship service had not posted. The file was too large. Now these are not issues I am used to or equipped to handle. Stress set in quickly. Failure screamed in my head. Disappointment criticized me by telling me that yet again I was letting everyone down. Control stabbed me and forced me to find a way to fix it all in just a few short hours. No matter how hard I tried, I failed at every attempt. I turned to the Lord and prayed that He would demonstrate His power over technology by making things work. He didn't choose to respond according to my desire.<br />
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By 11:00 am the avalanche of all my past was crashing around me internally. I desperately tried to hide it. Frustration mounted around me so the only thing I knew to do was to pretend that everything was okay. I had posted a link on our website to Gateway Baptist Church in Irmo, South Carolina. A close friend of mine leads worship at Gateway, and I knew that if friends and family would find that link, his pastor's heart would pour out through music to minister to them and bring them to the throne of God. What I discounted was how the Lord would use Jeremy's heart for leading God's people to remind me of a simple truth.<br />
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As we watched and listened to the music part of the worship, the Holy Spirit began to speak to me.<br />
Not audibly, yet clearly. The earth that had fallen around me began to settle, and rescue headed my way. The voices of defeat from my past continued to scream, yet the Holy Spirit's sweet whisper overcame the voices. Jeremy had been in a small group I was part of when Karen and I first started youth ministry. His family and our family became close and have remained so. The Lord allowed me the privilege to make some investment in his life, all of which the enemy continued trying to keep me from seeing. This time was not the first time the enemy threw blinders on me. This time, though, the Spirit's still voice was coming through. Jeremy stopped singing, and he picked up his Bible. He read from Psalm 46. I wonder if you might take a moment and read that Psalm with me? (https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm+46&version=ESV)<br />
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As Jeremy read from God's word about the earth giving way and the waters roaring I began to feel the Spirit lifting me to the "holy habitation of the Most High." In spite of my messed up life - yes in spite of me - the Spirit of God had taken this young man from a Godly family and was using him today to reach masses who were struggling to find some stability in uncertain times. Not until later when I stepped outside of the house did I fully grasp what the Lord taught me during that time of worship. He doesn't need me to do His work. He wants to use me, and He will use me, but He doesn't need me. He can do just fine on His own. My frantic efforts to do the right thing by everyone else are nothing compared to the "Lord of hosts," literally the Lord of armies.<br />
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The verse came back to me that he read so confidently. The very verse I have shared on multiple occasions. "Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!" Psalm 46:10, ESV. The Lord will be exalted whether or not I can make things come together. The Lord will be exalted whether or not everyone thinks I am working hard enough. The Lord will be exalted whether or not the earth shakes and trembles. He is God, and being in His presence brings peace. His desire for me is to be still and know Him. He used a young teenage boy who has become a compassionate young man with a gift for music and a heart for God's people to remind me to be still. I long for the stillness and acceptance I saw in Jeremy Sunday. That longing is only filled by Christ. What a blessing to be still and consider what God does when the one who was led becomes the leader.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-27423357397645086572020-03-21T07:05:00.000-07:002020-03-21T07:17:07.456-07:00Social DistancingThe view from the front porch has changed over the last couple of years. We live in a different world than we did back then. You've changed, and I've changed, too. I'm older now. Dumber than ever. More realistic perhaps. Or maybe not. Maybe I'm just more transparent with my reality now. I'm heavier than I used to be. Can't see as well and can't hear as well. I'm older now.<br />
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The circumstances of COVID-19 (isn't it amazing how some phrases can so quickly become household phrases?) cause many to take a moment to reflect and cause some to take several moments to react. Reflection or reaction. Two responses to life that lead us down very different paths. Which path are you on? Do you ever feel like you've got one leg on one path and one on the other? Visualize that humorous picture for a moment. Here we go walking down diverging paths with our legs spread wide trying to walk down both paths. Eventually, we will end up doing the splits and falling flat on our faces (or perhaps the other direction - don't visualize that one too much please). As human beings, one would think, at least from my front porch, that we have to choose. Are we going to be reflectors or reactors?<br />
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Psalm 27 paints a portrait for us from a king who made a decision to be a reflector. You might consider joining me briefly in reading the Psalm. It's not a long one.<br />
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David gives us insight into his quiet time on numerous occasions, and Psalm 27 is one of them. He openly talks about fear and loneliness. He references anxiety and the unknown. Reading David's journal takes me to the enemies I fight daily. Physical, emotional, and spiritual enemies struggle within me to steal my peace and joy. Fear and desperation fill the space of the fight. I can't make it on my own. As I consider all those in our community who are fighting similar battles, I wonder how many are trying to make it on their own.<br />
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The idea of social distancing makes it difficult to join others in the fight. One of my wife's coworkers pointed out that we are social people creating to need each other. She coined a new phrase - "physical distancing yet socially connecting." The new phrase requires creativity and energy, but isn't the value of community worth the creativity and energy required? Do we need crafted environments to care for another, to enjoy one another, to hear one another? Limiting groups of 10 or more don't stop us from living. Here are some ideas.<br />
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1. Walk outside and try to find a neighbor you've never met. Smile, wave, and consider initiating a conversation. You don't have to be in someone's face to hear his story.<br />
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2. Call a senior adult you know and see if she needs you to run to the grocery store for her or pick up her medicine. She is afraid. You are not. Do something.<br />
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3. Trim your bushes that desperately need trimming. You'll feel better. Your neighbors will appreciate you. You might actually get some blooms that have been kept back. Clean your driveway. It's amazing what clean concrete will do for the senses.<br />
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4. Spend some time on your porch or just sitting down in the grass in your yard. Soak in the sun (with sunscreen please) and breathe deeply. Thank God for the ability to breathe.<br />
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5. Read a new book or start a new Bible study.<br />
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6. Write cards and encouraging notes for someone.<br />
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7. Take some games to a foster family trying to figure out what to do with their new time together.<br />
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8. Prepare a meal for someone who can't get to the store and who can't do takeout. Or even better, support a small business by buying a meal for takeout and delivering it to someone with a smile. You can leave it at their door and give them a smile through a window.<br />
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9. Talk to the people in your house about their own fears and dreams and hopes for the future.<br />
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10. Play your favorite music loudly and dance around the house. Who cares if someone is looking? Use physical distancing to your advantage.<br />
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11. Play worship music and mediate on the faithfulness of God. Use your time to enter into His presence and to know Him more fully than you've known Him before.<br />
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12. Record yourself reading some books and share them with your children and grandchildren. Post them online so children in a children's hospital perhaps can log into them and hear them. Maybe sing some songs, make some crafts, and connect online with folks at a Ronald McDonald House, in a cancer ward, or at a senior living facility. In addition to the diseases these people are fighting, now their social interaction has been take as well.<br />
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David celebrates in Psalm 27:6. "And now my head shall be lifted up above my enemies all around me, and I will offer in his tent sacrifices of joy; I will sing and make melody to the Lord." Let not your head be low. Let our Father lift our heads by the power of His Spirit. Don't let the physical, emotional, and spiritual enemies defeat you. Offer sacrifices of joy to the world around you. Sing. Sing loudly and make melody to the Lord!!! The world needs to see Hope that comes from Christ alone. I choose today to be a Reflector. Will you choose with me?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-2323695542464641082018-08-31T08:04:00.000-07:002018-08-31T08:04:47.713-07:00Why Do They Have To Be The Enemy?Ugh. Once again we are in the middle of a politically charged environment. Really, it never ended. Once the most recent presidential election unfolded, the storm was set on what seems to be a never ending, irreversible course. The recent primaries in Florida revealed more of the same. Whether the craziness is the result of the storm or an additional driver to the storm is hard to tell.<br />
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When did we lose statesmen? Why can't we have an intellectual exchange of ideas where we discuss ideology without hatred and racism coming into the conversation? When did people of faith lose their convictions? When did Jesus become a Republican? Or when did he become a Democrat? Why are we afraid to stand on our own and to speak out against the hate speech that destroys our sense of well being. My kids are growing up in a culture where to be a follower of Christ you first have to align with some political party. If you align with the wrong one, then you are demonized by the other side and often in the name of LOVE. What's love got to do with it? Thanks, Tina Turner. Love has nothing to do with the arguments that are being thrown around. It's all about power and control. It's about ME and what is best for MY TRIBE. Doesn't anyone care about the others? Is there some new sacred text out there that justifies destroying those who disagree with us for the sake of our tribe coming out on top?<br />
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I'm aware of the Old Testament, for sure. As a matter of fact, I would consider myself a student of the Old Testament. I would have to put forward, though, that the conquering of lands by Israel was with a specific intent to describe the character of God for those people and was not ever intended to become the mantra of the people of God today. Nowhere do we see in the teachings of Jesus or in the post-resurrection writings that we are to elevate ourselves by putting others down. Quite the contrary.<br />
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Unfortunately early in church history, the idea of introducing others to the real Jesus went out the window, and instead protecting the TRIBE became the norm. If you don't fit into our mold, then you are evil, regardless of whether or not the mold looked anything like Jesus. So much time has passed and so much TRIBALISM has taken over the church that many find it hard to even know what Jesus might have been like. Read a passage of scripture that contradicts your tribe's philosophies. Share it with members of the tribe. Begin to talk like you believe the passage and that you feel like it contradicts the norm of the group. Begin to behave in a manner consistent with what you believe. See how long it takes for you to be shamed into submission for going against the accepted platform.<br />
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What would happen if we all took a deep breath and went to a quiet place for a while? What if we saw those around us as people and not positions? What if we became less concerned about tribal bonds and more concerned about helping everyone find their way? No wonder the world - even the American world - wants very little to do with Jesus. Those who claim to follow Him have so demonized those who disagree with them there seems to be little to no hope for them anyway. If following Jesus means taking on the nature of some political candidate, then that doesn't interest me at all. If following Jesus means taking on the nature of Jesus, then let's talk. If your posts and actions say one thing but your Sunday talk says another .... well that's a problem for all of us isn't it?<br />
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I am just as much a hypocrite as the next person for sure. I will say, though, that I am trying to be open to what is happening and to see the world around me in a different light - one that isn't filled with hatred and disgust but instead is filled with compassion and understanding. Why do those who think differently than we do have to be the enemy?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-2543439317399499932018-08-14T09:21:00.005-07:002018-08-14T09:21:52.317-07:00MASHFrom 1972 to 1983 a 30 minute dark comedy aired that portrayed the personal cost of war on individuals, families, and societies. MASH was not a show we watched as a family, and I never really questioned why. Perhaps it just came on at an inconvenient time or during another show that took priority in the family. While I never knew much about the show's content, the theme song caught my ear during college. Each week the music minus lyrics filtrated the homes of American families, many who never knew the meaning behind the tune playing over and over as a soundtrack that carried throughout the week. Did you know that the title to the song is "Suicide is Painless"? Here are the lyrics for your interest.<br />
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<a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/suicide-is-painless-lyrics-mash.html" target="_blank">http://www.metrolyrics.com/suicide-is-painless-lyrics-mash.html</a><br />
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While many would argue that the song is depressing and should be stripped from the musical libraries of our world, the words are so real that they frighten those who choose to live in a world that does not exist. You see, fear is the great maker behind all masks. Our society thrives on hiding from all that scares us. We hide our feelings and our failures. We hide behind masks of power and prestige. We throw out words that spread the lie that everything is okay when the broken pieces of our lives are cutting gashes into our hearts because no one wants to know. No one wants to see. No one wants to hear. No one wants to feel. Stay hidden on the journey that will eventually end in death.<br />
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Death happens in so many different ways. My dad died from pancreatic cancer. We thought it would be from heart disease or from smoking. A friend's mom died after being struck by a car while crossing the street. We thought she would live forever. A student was struck by lighting, and another was killed in a drunk driving accident. A cousin died by suicide. An uncle died by drinking himself to death. Another uncle - stabbed by his girlfriend. A close family friend died from natural causes late in her 80's while the son of a family friend died in his 30's from an aneurysm. No one really knows how or when. No one knows if death will come suddenly or over time.<br />
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Robin Williams was an amazing actor and comic. He could make people laugh just by looking a certain way. He made movies that made us think about how we were living our own lives. His heart was large for those around him. We all allowed him the pleasure of helping us escape for a few moments or a few hours as he created a life that made us smile and cry all at the same time. I won't pretend to know what was happening in his life. I just know that the news reported he died - by suicide.<br />
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What makes someone who seems to be full of life find the answer in a sudden, self inflicted death? Could the song be right? Is suicide really painless? I suppose not for those who are left behind to figure out what happened or for those who are trying to put the pieces back together. What about for the person who sees this option as the only one? Do the ravages of personal war plague our lives so strongly that the only way to be free is to commit death - emotional or physical - by suicide?<br />
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The answer to that question should be a resounding "no." My friends associated with the church would say that there is another way. Those with families near them would also cry out in rejection of the notion that death by suicide is the best answer. Personally, I cannot imagine that death by suicide is the best answer either. I can, however, see why some would find this path the most obvious path for the moment. Without someone to help guide us through, we all get to places where we think there is no future. The dead ends are surrounded by impenetrable boulders and vines. What is the other way? Most people don't suggest anything that is tangible. Lots of ideas and meditative prayers rise to the surface. Does anyone have an answer that someone can really cling to and use to find a way to shore? Can the church perhaps decide to dive into the water and pull someone to safety rather than just cheering him on from the shore?<br />
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In later years, spinoffs of MASH surfaced helping us to see that there is life after war. How did they survive? They looked within themselves, focused on what they could affect, and decided to make a new life that mattered - at least for the moment. In essence, they committed a different form of death by suicide - bury the past by creating the future. Unfortunately, suicide is not painless. Suicide does not remove the pain. Somehow we have to find a way to embrace what the future holds and use the past to keep us from making the same mistakes again. Make the future what you need it to be to survive. War stinks. Survival stings. Life ....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-17428005143320411362018-08-10T13:06:00.000-07:002018-08-10T13:06:18.014-07:00The Road To NowhereSometimes the most difficult part of a journey is getting lost along the way. At time getting lost can be an adventure, if you are the adventurous type and if no one else is depending on you to stay found. Mostly, though, others are looking for us to know where we are going and to know when we will get there. They don’t much care what happened along the way. Just show up on time with everything in order.<br />
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I haven’t lost my way often, primarily because I’ve not taken many journeys. Kelly Clarkson sings a song about being trained as a child to play it safe. Through that experience she ended up living in a world of fear and distrust. She was taught, like many of us, that the safe way is the best way. Stay close to home and fall in line. Everything else will be okay.<br />
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While I haven’t lost my way often, I have found myself lost along the journey here lately. I venture out a little thinking that I am healing from some brokenness only to find that the brokenness travels with me and haunts me into confusion. I try to be real and to let others see the me I know. It’s too much. I’m like a child learning to interact in a society that has always rejected the me I have kept buried for so long. I think maybe someone might want to know the real me, but then the past tells me I’m wrong. My introductory efforts come across as if I am a weak, emotional basket case who needs to be handled with kid gloves. When I try to pull back the reins, my heart leaves the path and hides in the darkness searching for a way to another place - not back to where I came from but also not where I was going.<br />
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Some say the journey is best travelled with someone. That saying is only true if you are worthy of someone traveling with you. Some journeys are best taken alone with friends and family who love waiting patiently at the end of the path. Perhaps they will be able to wait without a time frame or an expectation of what you will look like upon your arrival. On the other hand, perhaps they will not. Either way, you will end up somewhere. Even the road to no where ends up somewhere.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-3050653609151469622018-08-03T09:50:00.001-07:002018-08-03T09:50:43.104-07:00Pooh<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Childhood memories are the best memories for many people. For others, these memories bring grief and heartache. Loss of family, friends, and innocence plagues the hearts of those from many walks of life. We learn to live with the pain and the regret hoping to discover ways to make the most out of our brokenness. Everyone has brokenness of some kind, I suppose. We live in an imperfect world so the best we can do is to take each day one day at a time and live that day to the fullest.<br />
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As children, we had the luxury of escaping into enchanted worlds of make believe. For some the enchanted world provided a place to play for a time, but for others the enchanted world provided a break from the harsh realities of living. The most difficult times, then, would be those where you would have to leave the enchantment and come into the circle of life others were a part of each day.<br />
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Bedtime was always the scariest time of day for me. All day long I could hide and pretend to be the person I wanted others to know. Bedtime, though, was different because as sleep encroached upon my private world, I knew I would lose the ability to be in control of my existence. I fought sleep with the strength of a warrior, but each night the power of nature overcame my senses. Each morning I woke with the burden of the life I so desperately wanted to leave. Each day I lived the life I created to keep others from knowing the real me hidden deep inside behind dark walls even I refused to go behind.<br />
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I don't remember when he joined me, but at some point Winnie the Pooh came into my world. I watched the shows on television and read the books. Mostly, though, I held onto this stuffed bear less than a foot tall. He rested on my bed each day waiting for my return from school. He watched me carefully as I engaged in activities that perpetuated my make believe world. He listened as I made up storylines where I was a flawed hero, and he heard me as I cried over the worthlessness I felt in my life. Pooh became a friend to me, and he proved to be the best childhood friend a boy could have. He was always there with me, but mostly, he was there with me at night. I remember heated arguments in our home at night. Holding Pooh tightly helped me make it through. I remember being afraid that I would dream about falling into the deep cavern yet again. Again, Pooh helped calm me. I remember being afraid of the Wicked Witch who threatened to boil me in her cauldron once she had put me to sleep. Through it all Pooh was there.<br />
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Tonight we are going as a family to see the new movie Christopher Robin. I have been rereading<br />
some of the Pooh stories in anticipation of the movie. I don't know all that we will see as we experience Disney's creation of a grown up Christopher Robin and the impact of a bear and his friends on this matured life. Whatever we see, I am sure it will be amazing. He may be a stuffed bear, but the attachment remains - for scores of Christopher Robins around the world.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-68760606782142022362018-08-02T17:51:00.001-07:002018-08-02T17:51:59.708-07:00God Has Left The BuildingSeveral years ago I wrote a blog entitled "In Search of Church." Lately I have read back over several of the blog posts I wrote, and knowing what was stirring beneath the surface inside of me has made me realize that not only am I in search of something, but I have actually been in search of something for some time.<br />
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Here is the question that weighs heavily on my mind. Is God really still interacting with the world as we know it? Most who wear the Christian label would immediately say, "Why of course," without even thinking about it. When pressed further, most of these would point to evidences of circumstances or ministries that they believe point to the work of God among us. Interestingly enough, many of these circumstances and ministries are duplicated in the non Christian world.<br />
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Over the years I have taught about God's work through the church. I, like many others, have taken the position that the church is the chosen pathway through which God chooses to work and to display His glory. Take a pause and realize that growing up Baptist limited the work of God to some extent because Baptists are scared silly of the Holy Spirit. Put the Holy Spirit aside, and Baptists will fall in line. Church is the way to go. Along with church, Baptists will teach about tithing, missions, Sunday School, and other such things. They will speak against drinking, gambling, and pornography. Not so much smoking because the deacons out front might object as they are putting their cigarettes out. All in all, though, Baptists will agree with most other denominations that God is best expressed within the confines of the church.<br />
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Notice that I used the word confines. That word was intentional because over the years, the church has become, in many cases, like the legalistic structure of the Jewish religion of old. Follow these rules, and the church will embrace you. Step out of line, and the church will reject you. Somehow living for Jesus became less about Jesus and more about the institution that even he fought against.<br />
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So back to the question. Is God still interacting with the world as well know it? Well, if the position of most who call themselves Christian is true, then the answer is "no, He is not at work." If the church is the chosen means whereby God choses to work, then I have to conclude that God has left the building. The church in America has become, by and large, nothing more than a religious institution perpetuating the ego and power struggle of those who wish to be God. They want to be seen as the final authority on truth and to be held in such high esteem that it rivals worship. It reminds me of what I was taught in elementary Sunday School about the devil's downfall. Leaders of the church today want others to see them as God, which in reality means they have made themselves an idol.<br />
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Research emphasizes the decline of spiritual awareness among Christians. Maybe I'll post those results tomorrow. For now, suffice it to say that we are worse off now that ever. Even with the Republican "messiah" in the White House. Imagine that. The church has lost her voice and lost her influence. The Spirit of God has moved on, it seems. America has become what Europe became with one difference. In Europe there are large empty church buildings with no Spirit. In America there are large full buildings with no Spirit. The only difference is the number of deceived people in the building. Go figure.<br />
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If God isn't at work around us, then where does that leave us? Interesting question right? An even more interesting question is whether or not you have the energy or desire to investigate the answer. Join me on the journey if you dare.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-40836469674634886172018-07-26T08:02:00.000-07:002018-07-26T08:02:09.213-07:00No One Mourns The Wicked<div style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: ".SFUIText";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">One of the opening numbers in the Broadway Play, Wicked, is titled No One Mourns the Wicked. Watching the musical and listening to the song produced some interesting thoughts in my mind that you might be willing to consider if you are one who has grown up in the church. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIText";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">As the play progresses I became uncomfortably aware of the resemblance between Oz and the religious institution that has become a wall to people finding truth. The people of Oz look to the wizard to make all things right in their world. Elphaba wants to meet the wizard because she is convinced that he can “fix” her. She is, after all, different from everyone else. Her family and her friends have filled her heart with the belief that different and wrong are synonyms. When she reaches the wizard, she realizes that he has other plans for her. He doesn’t want to “fix” her. He wants to use her to expand his already deceptive control of Oz. Elphaba rejects the wizard’s schemes, flees, and ultimately becomes nothing more than an evil memory to the people of Oz.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIText";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">In the opening number of the musical, we hear the overpowering message that no one really cares what happens to the wicked because the wicked are products of their own evil ways. The wicked, according to the song, are a reminder to the children of what happens when you misbehave. The wicked are a reminder that when you misbehave you end up dying alone. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIText";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The message of the song and the parallels to religion today are subtle and probably not intended. The message spoke clearly to me because the bitter irony is that the person who is dead wasn’t really wicked after all. She was just different from the rest. She didn’t fit in and her attempts to help were always misunderstood. She wanted to be a difference maker, and the world rejected her while deceiving the population of Oz into believing that instead of wanting to change her world she really wanted to destroy their happiness. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIText";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Maybe you grew up in the church like I did and somehow became a citizen of Oz. The fraud that the organization perpetuated led you to think that anyone who was different must be wicked. A different race, a different culture, a different political party, a different sexual orientation. In Oz everyone has to fall in line and since differences can’t be explained easily the best option must be to eradicate the differences from the society. The problem is that the power behind the curtain bellowing superiority with thunder and bolts of lighting is not real. When you pull back the curtain you see nothing but a manipulative, power hungry, lying, insecure old man. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">He is trying to cover up the truth because the truth threatens his position as Wizard. What is the truth? It would seem that the truth is that we all possess something special. This something special allows us to contribute to the world in a way that could be life changing, revolutionary in fact. If those who live in Oz would stop for a moment and see past the differences to the special, we could perhaps work together. Do we all have moral dilemmas that we need to work on? Of course we do. The Wizard brainwashes the people into believing that only those who are different or special have moral dilemmas to work on and that those moral dilemmas are actually damning to their existence. I’ve been reading some books on this subject, and they have varied thoughts on this subject. My favorite book on the subject says something very different than what I was taught in the wizarding classes of</span><span style="font-family: ".SFUIText-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;"> </span><span style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">Oz</span><span style="font-family: ".SFUIText-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: ".SFUIText-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">John 3:17 </span><span style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: ".SFUIText-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">1 John 3:17 </span><span style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">But if anyone has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God's love abide in him?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIText";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Wizard would not like these teachings making their way through Oz. I think the Wizard might even try to stop these teachings. How would he stop these teachings and countless others? Easy. Just persuade with doublespeak that those who reject the ways of the Wizard are wicked. After all, what’s the harm in turning those who are different into villains? No one mourns the wicked.</span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-39286795813180071792018-07-22T14:29:00.001-07:002018-07-30T10:47:19.454-07:00The Witch Is Not The Only One Who Is Green<div style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We recently took Caroline to New York for her birthday. Part of the trip included seeing Wicked at the Gershwin Theater. The show was spectacular. I’m in a bit of a rebuilding phase of my life after opening lots of compartments of my life that I have kept hidden from practically everyone I have ever known. Watching Wicked at this particular time in my life was useful. Elphaba’s struggle with what others saw as a flaw hit close to home for me. I have come through what I think is the worst of it now. Here are some conclusions I have drawn.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I may be broken in many places, but that brokenness does not define me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I am no more special than anyone else, but I am just as special as anyone else. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The repair work I have done does not erase the history of abuse I experienced. The repair work does, however, take that history and uses it to make me stronger, to draw me to deeper compassion, and to celebrate the me that I am becoming.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I am loyal, faithful, and caring. These traits are not perfected in me, but they are being perfected in me and will continue to be until I cease to breathe.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I cannot dwell on my failures - times when I have been less than honest or times that I have been uncaring and unkind. I can look squarely at those failures, seek forgiveness for those failures, and live in authenticity and with pure intent so as to reduce the likelihood of repeating those failures. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I love my family more than I love my life. I love Karen, Daniel, Caroline, and David. I will not hurt them by remaining in the prison of betrayal. I will come out of the prison, and I will live for perhaps the first time in forever.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I refuse to be labeled. I am not a Christian man, a church man or a non-church man. I am not a straight man or a gay man. I am not an abused man, a weak man, or a strong man. I am simply a man. That is all there is to it really. I am simply a man on a journey to somewhere unknown.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I will not settle for walking with a limp. I will learn to run with the limp. I will learn to soar with the limp. The limp may always be there. I don’t know right now, but I suspect it will be. I do know that I cannot pretend the limp is not there. I reject anyone or any organization that would have me dress up and pretend the limp is not there. I do not live in Oz. I think I’ll try Defying Gravity.</span></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-67197442693164091282018-05-29T09:13:00.000-07:002018-05-29T09:13:14.132-07:00Her Name Is Caroline<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sixteen years ago the world changed. The world had taken a turn for the better several years before when, over the course of time, Karen and I got married followed a few years later with the birth of our first born. We enjoyed that time of our lives and had absolutely no clue that in a few short years we would experience another amazing gift. This time the gift came in a beautiful, small package wrapped in smiles and the faintest hint of auburn hair. Her name is Caroline. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We put a lot of thought into her name. We wanted it to be as special as we knew she would be. Some of her friends (and I use that term loosely) have shortened her name to Carol. Their doing so makes me sad because is shows that they really don't know her like I do. Names are not meant to be shortened or tossed around. Names matter, and when someone carelessly uses another person's name they are typically someone who will casually use the person, as well. At any rate, Caroline says it doesn't really bother her that much, so I suppose it's just a Daddy thing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Speaking of Daddy things, maybe being a Daddy makes me more protective than I should be. I remember holding our precious treasure and knowing that at that time in our lives she was one of the few things that was going right. Looking into her eyes made the struggles with work and questions about finances fade away. I didn't have to decide that I was going to be her protector. I didn't have to make a declaration or think about the ramifications of the choice. I can't even say it was a choice. It just happened as the fire deep inside ignited to solidify that from that day forward she was my little girl. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wish I could say as her protector that she has never been hurt. At times, the hurt has even come from me. I have said things in ways I wish I could I could take back but no matter how hard I try I can't seem to turn back time. I have learned, though, some key words that express my heart when I mess up. Here they are: I was wrong. I am sorry. Please forgive me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">People have been said that I have a blind spot when it comes to Caroline. I don't really believe that is true, but I will concede one point. In my eyes she is perfect - not in her actions, but in her being. Being perfect in who she is means that nothing she could ever do would change my love for her. Nothing could make me doubt her ability to excel and her heart for others. I suppose that seeing Caroline through that lens does create a sort of cognitive dissonance within me when she behaves in a way that is contrary to what I know to be true about her. In those moments I have to deal with the reality and help her navigate through whatever relationship may be harmed by her inconsistent behaviors. Eventually, though, I know that when she gets back to who she really is all will be well again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Caroline loves people, and she loves life. Others comment to us from time to time on something she has said or done that has been especially meaningful to them or to someone close to them. Caroline laughs hard and hurts deep. She is more reserved than our other two children until you get to know her, and then the excitement shines through. She might be more trusting than I am, but she also has a discernment about people that will help her on the journey through life. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The part of Caroline that really makes me smile is that Caroline loves Jesus. I pray that she will know Him more and recognize just how much He loves her. Caroline doesn't get trapped by the mechanism of the church institution. Church neither slows her down nor revs her up. She loves Jesus and being with His people. The rest is just part of the play. Caroline forgives quickly - she is teaching me more about doing so. Caroline gives freely to others. She uses her gifts for God's glory, and she is a light in a dark world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sixteen years ago the world changed, and the world as we knew it then will never be the same. Sixteen years ago, God blessed us all with a special gift. Her name is Caroline.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-36697394094613086722017-08-29T18:47:00.001-07:002018-07-22T14:18:05.630-07:00<div style="color: #454545; font-family: ".sf ui text"; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I've read somewhere that writers should always begin with an outline of some kind. An outline provides a plan and helps the reader - and the writer - follow the pathway of the story. I'm sure that advice is sound, and as I have been sitting here for the last 30 minutes feeling the urge to write, I have yet to come up with an outline. Ugh. What in the world? I need an OUTLINE. Still, no outline comes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">For the life of me I can't produce an outline today, but I can pour out what the Lord is doing in my life. Today the Lord spoke more than most days after an especially uplifting and spiritually challenging conversation with two very special ladies from my history that God continues to use in the present His-story of my life. We only talked for forty five minutes. Some of that was spent with the normal awe and awareness that we are getting older and that are children are the ages we once were. Then, there was the customary "how is everybody doing." Add in a slice of freshly baked, still hot pound cake, and man, oh man, the afternoon had taken a turn for the better. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">The actual subject of the afternoon should be reserved for continued conversation in trustworthy circles. What has prompted me to write as I sit on this plane waiting to soar above the earth at 30,000 feet is the same question that remains pressing on my heart. How are we as God's people going to bring glory to God in 2017 America? What does He want from us? What does following Christ really look like today? Almost a year has gone by since evangelicals elected the man who was to change the face of America, and we are worse now than ever. We are nine months into a new year, and we are dealing with the same old things. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">So many people have answers, and honestly most of them are lacking. A few well spoken and spiritually minded folk seem to have a grasp on what God expects, but those messages continually get lost in the myriad of answers coming our way from experts who are full of answers to the wrong questions. How do we grow our church? How do we make our families healthy? How do we .......? Whatever the question something in me reacts to the third word. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">How do we?? Maybe it is a cop out, but something in me continues to grind with the thought that my whole life has been a struggle of escaping the "we." The truth is that we don't. God does. What if we asked, "How will God use us to glorify Him in our community?" "How will God heal our family?" "How will God use the present circumstances to reveal His majesty and splendor?" How will God? I know that He can, and that He has a plan. An outline if you will. He does not struggle with order or with mapping out the journey for us. The struggle lies within me as I try to hold onto the we while pretending to care about God. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Slow down, Bessie. Let's be fair. It's not pretending to care about God. I really care, and I know many who do. "Pretending" is too harsh. Really we are holding on to two worlds. Trusting God and trusting man. Romans 8 says it like this: "For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit." Paul is talking about those who are focused on "how do WE fix this problem?" We like to lump the flesh into sex, drugs, and other evils of our day, but that picture poorly reflects the intent of Romans 8. Paul seems to force the issue that religious efforts will never accomplish any good in our lives. No matter how noble they may seem, even our best attempts at doing right fall short. Only the Spirit of God can accomplish His work - both in and through us. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">What if I spend so much time wondering "how" that I fail to see I'm using the wrong alphabetical structure? (Since I can't come up with an outline, I might as well talk about alphabetical structure - if that even is a real thing ....) What I a mean is what if I am spending so much time thinking about H-O-W that I am forgetting to meditate on W-H-O. (Did you catch the shift in alphabetical structure? Did you? I digress).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Do folks outside of Christ really care about my how? Didn't Jesus teach us that folks outside of Christ really need to know WHO? Experts will tell us that how affects understanding of who. I disagree. Consider that maybe Who affects the understanding of How. What the Lord seems to be telling me is that my discontentment with the way we do things in the church is more about Him leading me even deeper into intimacy with Him and is less about the things I can easily point to as markers of dissatisfaction. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Romans 8 goes on to remind us that "the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself might be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the glory of the freedom of the children of God." I cannot help but consider that the creation is not wondering HOW. Instead the creation is focused on WHO. So much so that Paul said "we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now, and not only the creation but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, wait eagerly for the adoption of sons, the redemption of our bodies. For TO THIS HOPE WE ARE SAVED." What does the world - the dying, drowning, flood soaked world need to hear and to see in us? The world needs to know that we have hope that goes beyond levees, buildings, sermons, songs, and slogans. The world needs me to stop it. Stop trying to figure out the answer, and offer them the ANSWER. HE IS ALREADY FIGURED OUT. He demonstrated that He loves us on the cross. Long ago, the song clearly stated, "Jesus is the answer for the world today. Above Him there's no other. Jesus is the way." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">If I will lift Him up, the world will be drawn to Him. He said it was so. It has to be true. Lift him up in my work, in my family, in my travels, in my preaching, in my teaching, in my play, and in every part of my life. Lift Him up and let His Spirit do His work. He is responsible for the HOW. I just have to point people to WHO. Lord, Jesus, help be be one who points others to You, the one who makes all things new. Amen.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-64761972924359448912017-07-21T16:53:00.001-07:002017-07-21T16:53:16.917-07:00Why Am I Afraid To Tell You Who I Am?Not many days go by that I don't think about writing and wonder why I can't seem to keep the simple act of journaling going. Some call it blogging. Others rambling. I just look at the whole thing as thoughts that come to mind while sitting not the porch drinking a tall glass of ice tea. Maybe the problem is that I don't really have a porch. I try to limit ice because I can't seem to break the habit of chewing the stuff, and I'd like to keep my teeth a little while longer. I've gone to drinking water so the sugar in the sweet tea doesn't continue to deposit pockets of fat around my midsection. All of that being said, I thought of changing the name of the blog thinking that would inspire me. Then I thought of drinking coffee in the den. One who is family gave me an awesome blue, distinguished looking recliner that would be perfect. New blog name ..... From the Recliner. Nope. That's not the answer.<br />
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In light of some recent events, I have realized that the reason I write for a while and then stop has much deeper roots. Writing is cheaper than a counseling copay so I suppose I should write more often before they send me off to some "retreat" for those who need to get their thoughts in order. What did I come up with as a reason? Thanks for asking and getting me back on track. When I started the blog years ago, I would share a funny story about my family or something that happened that day and then make a spiritual application. Reading back over distant recent posts, the obvious conclusion seems to be that I've not laughed a whole lot in the recent years. Pockets when life would be light became caverns that were darker than travel would allow. A few posts here and there based on some current event or some life experience would bring me back to the familiar place. Well, here we are again. So glad you joined me here. Keep alert to those who might be walking down the street wondering what we are doing here on this slab with no porch, no rocking chair, and no iced tea. Smile real back because appearances, after all, are everything.<br />
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Or are they. Appearances can be very deceiving. Someone said, "Don't judge a book by it's cover." others have said, "Beauty is only skin deep." (Though I have to admit I like the added portion that declares, "But ugly goes straight to the bone." Plays have sets appearing like buildings and landscapes but are simply painted art on pieces of canvas held together by wood and ropes. Every hotel resembles the nicest resort when you pull them up online. Have you ever pulled up to a restaurant and thought that your GPS must be playing a dirty trick on you? "Only eat at places with local license plates in the parking lot," my good friend Travis used to say.<br />
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Appearances attached to people often have different tags. Hypocrite. Fake. Fraud. Two faced. Add a few of your own. People who pretend to be someone they are not, scared to be found out for fear of the great cost attached to reality. We all know people who are not what they seem. Some we see from a distance. Others we see around town, across the aisle at church, in the grocery store. One we all know very well, and we see the person every single day. We know him - or her - all too well. Intimately actually. We see every fault and feel every pain. We know the person so well that we even know the kind of unmentionables he wears underneath those Lucky blue jeans. Stop for a moment. Find a mirror. Walk to the mirror. Look deeply into the mirror. See the ugly mug looking back at you. That's the one. Even what I think I see in that mirror is different from reality. I have more wrinkles, more fat, more moles, more everything than I really see. Unless I look closely in a moment of hosnestly. Then I see the truth. The biggest pretender of all lives in my house, sleeps in my bed, wears my socks, and uses my toothbrush. Most people think the big P on our front door represents the initial of my last name. Instead the big P reminds me that I am the big Pretender.<br />
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I don't mean to be the Pretender. I try not to be and pray about being different; nonetheless, the reality is less real than I would like it to be. As a teenager, I read a book by John Powell. The title exposed my fear. "Why Am I Afraid To Tell You Who I Am?" The answer in the book went something like this one: "I am afraid to tell you who I am because it's the only me I've got, and you might not like me all that much." Mrs. Armstrong would tell me that should not be in quotes because the sentence really is a paraphrase, but somehow I needed to set it apart. Need to check back in my Little Brown Handbook of Grammar. The question still wields its power over me. The truth remains that I, like most, hide the deepest parts of who I am and present to you the person I want you to think I am. That statement scares me the most because it means that in those moments when I am rude, sarcastic, too matter of fact, moody, irritating ..... (you get the point) ...... I have failed to mask the trash that I am trying to hide. Trust me, I don't like hearing people say, "You definitely know when Alan is upset about something. It's written all over his face."<br />
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This past Sunday, my Pastor preached about sanctification, the process of becoming like Christ. Holiness is a journey that all believers travel, and the honesty involved in the journey is a hard one that we can often ignore, until something triggers a road sign to force us to stop. Well, we as believers have had a huge road sign fall in our path this week. One part of me that I have never tried to hide is that what we Mississipi State Bulldogs call The School Up North has no positive thoughts in my mind. So as not to make this blog about the ills of Ole Miss, I'll just stop there. The shock that would even lead me to write the dreaded words Ole Miss is a common one this week. A vocal Christian coach has been very publicly exposed for the same sin we all commit every day. He portrayed himself to be someone he wasn't. Hang with me here for a few more lines. I don't know the coach by anything but reputation, so I can't speak to character. All I'm saying is that his situation has made me stop and think about the parts of my life I want to be different and the parts of my life that I wish others would never know. I want to be known for loving Jesus and loving His Word. I want to be known for being a faithful dad and husband and a man who works hard to be the best at his job with the integrity Christ demands. I don't want people to know that I get angry and hold on to the anger too long. Nor do I want people to know I get impatient with others. I'd rather people not know that I get tired of being around religious people sometimes. I'd like to keep secret that as a red blooded Southern man my favorite movies aren't about violence and that my favorite Saturday fall activity isn't watching a football game. Gone With The Wind and a John Grisham book will do me just fine. I'd rather these things stay hidden so I'm risking the fact that if I tell you who I really am maybe you will still like me after all. Why are Christian's afraid to tell others who we are? Could it be that because even as the press conference is still playing, other Christians are already tweeting judgement and condemnation on our souls. I'm afraid to tell you who I am because the only person you really are willing to forgive is yourself. My guilt is to be condemned while yours is to be overlooked.<br />
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The last blog I wrote months ago ended with Romans 8:1. I've been studying Romans 8 for the last several weeks. Interesting, isn't it? I don't like hypocrites. I don't like Ole Miss. I often don't like myself. I do love Jesus, and He loves me. "The law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death." Romans 8:2. He is the only one I know who is always Who he says he is. As a light hearted ending in light of recent events, consider that the bells of heaven could be cowbells and the Grove the fallen Garden of Eden. Hail State.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-17637731832944269392017-01-25T18:11:00.000-08:002017-01-25T19:27:24.563-08:00No RegretCentrifuge 1992. Southern Baptist Youth Camp. Camp Pastor. Life-changing experience. These phrases come to mind when I consider one of the most significant events of my life. Working for Centrifuge proved to be the first time I ventured out on my own. Prior to this experience, I lived in the shadow of everyone else. Everyone's expectations. Everyone's disappointments. Everyone's portrait of who I was or who I would ever be. Until that day. I saw a posting that someone for Lifeway planned to be on campus to interview for youth camp positions. Not knowing any better, I applied to be a Camp Pastor. The meeting was in a conference room at the New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, and the coordinator and I met alone for me to preach to a one man audience. I will never forget the sermon. The message was from Galatians 5:1. "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29164A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29164A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup> Stand firm,<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29164B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29164B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup> then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." <br />
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The interview was a long shot. Most camp pastors had served other positions first, yet I felt the Spirit saying, "Give Me a chance to show you that so much more is out there for those who love Me." Not long after that, Lance reached out and told me I got the job!!! I couldn't believe it. Prior to this day, I had NEVER done anything my brother had not already done. For the first time, I had my own first time. <br />
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Assigned to the East Coast Traveling Team, I met lots of new people. People in New England tend to live quite differently than people in the Bible Belt. The Lord allowed me to serve under the leadership of a Camp Director who taught me more about grace than I had ever experienced. Her name was Amy Figg. I still follow her on Facebook because of the tremendous influence she had on my life. Prior to this time, I never knew the power of acceptance and the abundance of God's grace. She introduced me to Max Lucado, and that summer I experienced a freedom in preaching that I had never before known. She probably has no idea just how much the Lord used her to shape during that time. <br />
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Returning to seminary after that summer produced extreme conflict. Valence Street Baptist Church called me to be their pastor, and the rigors of school combined with the mold of ministry forced me to tuck my summer experience into a place where no one could have access to it. During that year, I had one desire. Secure a position with Lifeway's Centrifuge again. Mission accomplished when I learned that I would be placed as Camp Pastor at Carson Newman College. During that summer, I met several friends I was too dumb to keep in touch with but who I have watched from a distance over the years wondering the classic, "what if ...." Today I was reminded by a Facebook memory of that summer. One person I met during that summer wasn't a true Centrifuge staff member, but instead was part of the support staff. Through him I met the most important earthly person I will ever know, the love of my life, my bride. One day early in the summer of 1992 he wrote me a note which I taped in my Bible for the summer. The note simply read, "NO REGRET." We became friends that summer, and although circumstances have circumvented continued relationship, those two words still haunt my memory. NO REGRET. <br />
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That summer I preached with no regret, but I live with much regret. Regret that I failed to enjoy the people I worked with each day. Regret that I preached daily out of the overflow of an empty heart. Regret that I let circumstances kill this friendship that had grown to mean so much to me. Regret that lingers as a weapon in the hands of the enemy that continually reminds me that I am not good enough, not strong enough, not kind enough, and on and on and on. <br />
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One interesting thought about my regret rests in the reality that Romans 8:1 still remains one of my most quoted verses. All of the time, I'm telling those who come to me that "there is therefore no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." "You are forgiven," I tell them, as if the verse applies to everyone except me. I can't seem to let it go. The regret lingers and eats away at my existence surrounded by seasons of relief. Failure. Forgotten. Too far gone. These words plague my dreams and suppress my abundant existence. <br />
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Trusting that "too late" never crosses the Lord's mind, I am forced to ask myself how might the Lord use me today to advance His Kingdom. Not my purpose or my design, but completely His own purposeful, grace-filled plan. How do I grab tightly to the grace I met for the very first time in the summer of 1991? <br />
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Hearing the latest new reports conflicts me as a follower of Christ. I'm encouraged by some actions I have heard about where life takes a center stage. All lives matter, and the unborn must be protected. I'm less encouraged by Facebook posts where fellow Christians compare our new President to our Savior. More than anything my prayer remains that the Lord uses the next four years to awaken the church to His grace and mercy. Micah 6:8 screams to us that the Lord requires us to "love mercy, do justly, and walk humbly with our God." Living with no regret demands that we pursue all three: mercy, justice, and humility. This time in history clamors for the church to exist with NO REGRET!<br />
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Please do not misunderstand. The positions of Christ followers today are important. Life and the protection of those lives must be a priority. Time presented me with the truth that physical circumstances point to spiritual reality. Assuming the solidarity of that statement, the undisputed reality that life matters propels me to understanding that in addition to physical life, spiritual lives matter, as well. Biblical evidence would even suggest that physical life, while of utmost importance, draws us to the reality that Christ ultimately died for our spiritual lives. He looked past the physical failures to the promise of spiritual perfection. <br />
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All of these thoughts force me to ask serious questions about my role in the body of Christ. Since lives matter, the Spirit of God has opened my heart to some lives that often go ignored, and I wonder if you would commit to see them this Sunday as you engage in whatever worship experience you are part of this week. All around you, lives in crisis incubate on the verge of spiritual abortion as the body of Christ in large part ignores them as legitimate lives. Somewhere near you sits a young man who daily experiences (or as a child experienced) abuse by a family member. Fear keeps him from saying anything. Fear of being exposed and fear that the blame lies with him. Maybe he is a homosexual after all, and he has invited what happened to him. He is afraid. Somewhere near you as you praise God as the Good, Good Father, a young lady silently cries about the father she wishes she had. He is at home, but his is unengaged, and she is searching for a male figure in her life who will bring her significance. A father, a mother, a grandparent who has lost touch with family members and doesn't know how to reclaim them. A husband fearful of losing his wife or a wife aware of her husband's distance. A pastor caught in the grips of sin or a Sunday School teacher afraid that others may find out what she hides deep down inside. A victim of sex trafficking, a slave to pornography. THESE LIVES MATTER. All lives matter. "The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30515B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30515B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup>as some count slowness, but <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30515C" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30515C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></sup>is patient toward you,<sup> </sup>not wishing that any should perish, but <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30515E" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30515E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)"></sup>that all should reach repentance" (ESV). <br />
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Wishing that all should come to repentance. ALL. Those damaged by abuse. Those caught in the religious performance trap. Democrats. Republicans. Presidents, past and present. Pastors and deacons. Moms and dads. ALL LIVES MATTER TO HIM. The time has come for me to open my eyes to the reality that my experience isn't about me but instead is about the chance to see others the way God sees them. Others who live in my town. Others who get a paycheck with me. Others who sit near me in worship each week. People in need of a Savior who loves them just as they are and who died for all while we were all still sinners. Of all the regrets I must avoid, I refuse to live any longer regretting letting anyone feel unloved and unwanted. The time has come to let God's word flood the hard layer of protection that lines my inner being. From this day forward I will stand for the Truth and refuse to hide behind religious jargon. Twenty five years in the making, it is time to proclaim that Jesus has called you and me to live with NO REGRET.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-8367020924745292702017-01-20T18:22:00.003-08:002017-01-20T18:22:59.962-08:00It's All Coming Back To Me Now Sometimes the Lord speaks softly. Other times He speaks loudly. Sometimes His voice projects through the harshness of our world, and sometimes He calls through the gentleness of a morning rain. Recently, God revealed Himself in a way that was most unexpected. Two worlds once connected rejoined for a moment with a reminder that even the most tragic situations hold glimpses of hope for tomorrow.<br />
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Growing up in small town Mississippi packaged extreme experiences into a lifetime. Church life revolved around Sunday School, children's choir, Bible drills, VBS, worship services, and an occasional hymn sing. School life invited opportunity for high grades, awards, school plays, PE, band, and other normal, predictable routines. Broad friendships that rejected deeper engagement dotted the landscape of my adolescence and teenage years. The complexities of life circled around these two silos of my life. Church and school. Outside of these two worlds, any identity I might have had faded into imagination.<br />
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Cloudy memories of growing up often skew perspective, yet occasionally something triggers part of my brain to pull history from the portals where they have been locked away. This past weekend the Holy Spirit pulled such a trigger when my oldest son texted me a name and asked if the name rang a bell to me. Imagine my surprise when I learned that the Lord placed him alongside a young man leading sixth grade boys in a DiscipleNow with a tie to my past. The short story is that the other young man's mother grew up in the same small church where I grew up and then once she married she moved across the street from my grandmother. My grandmother actually kept the young boy occasionally when he was a baby.<br />
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Lately I've been reflecting on how growing up a Pharisee shaped the course of my life. Learning all of the rules forged a direction that left me longing for a relationship that could only be filled by Christ. Never forget the sovereignty of God in our lives. In the middle of a mess, King Jesus shed His blood to redeem what many labeled a hopeless heap of splintered lives.<br />
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The church I remembered a few moments ago ignited with a major split that fed the gossip circles for years to come. Several families joined together on the north side of town to form a body of Christ that became the central part of my spiritual existence. For a season, the church enjoyed a freshness that many had forgotten could exist. Over time, humanity won out, and the small church became even smaller, to the point that now the body barely exists. As the mirror reminds me of my history, the Spirit also reminds me how He is at work when we don't even realize it. In the early days of this new church a group of families connected in ways I had not previously known. One family seemed to be the common bond between the others, and many Sunday nights we would gather at their home after church. As children we were close enough in age to find suitable interactions, but we were far enough separated that outside of church we didn't spend much time together. From a distance, though, I always knew that these peers and I had something unexplainable in common. I'd like to say we all shared a love for the Lord, a heart for missions, or a zeal for the Word of God. Instead, what we shared was actually a community of love and support unparalleled by others I knew. This community produced future generations actively engaged in service and ministry to the Lord - to the third and possibly even the forth generation.<br />
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Hearing from Daniel that he had "randomly" been paired with the son of one from this former community pushed me to recognize that while growing up Pharisee had its ill effects, God's word did not fail. Those raised in Truth and Love thrive in the Kingdom of God over the long haul. In that small church we didn't have a lot of money or a lot of entertainment. Our Sunday School room was just four walls, paneling, and metal chairs. We didn't have a concert every Sunday morning before the preaching, and we didn't have a website or a blog. We just had Jesus, His word, and families that made sure we were in community with each other. Would you believe that almost all of the members of that small youth group are actively engaged in ministry in the church somewhere to this day and that our children are choosing to love the Lord as well? How in the world did that happen in the middle of a most dysfunctional place? Only one way. Not the music, not the trips, not the ritual, nor the competition. Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Only His blood holds broken hearts and lives together over time and creates newness from empty vessels. I'm praying for such a community in our new adventure. A community that perhaps only learns the value when our grandchildren find themselves serving together in unexpected places.<br />
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"... not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near." Hebrews 10:25Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-85221481401934092562017-01-11T18:32:00.000-08:002017-01-11T18:32:13.134-08:00Second Chances .... Are They Real?Second chances .... are they real? The obvious answer screams from the pages of scripture. Look no further than 2 Corinthians 5:17 to remember that "... if anyone is <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-28878A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-28878A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup>in Christ, he is <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-28878B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-28878B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup>a new creation.<sup> </sup>The old has passed away; behold, the new has come." (ESV) God's extraordinary demonstration of grace through Christ's death, burial, and resurrection displays the truth of second chances. Never forget 1 John 1:9, where the disciple teaches that "if we confess our sins, he is <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30533B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30533B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup>faithful and just to forgive us our sins and <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30533C" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30533C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></sup>to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." <br />
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The question dominating my mind tonight goes back to my childhood days and has been with me through the teenage, early adult, and adult years. In scripture we see a host of examples where Jesus brought those spiritually dead to life; however, the deeper question remains. What about second chances for those who are already believers?<br />
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As a young child, I struggled with forgiveness. Anger and guilt over some childhood experiences plagued me in ways that I still have trouble verbalizing. I read the Bible every night and journaled notebooks full of confessions and cries for help. More Sundays than I would like to admit found me walking down the aisle of our small church rededicating my life to Christ and promising to be a better person, never to sin again. The nine years invested in Bible Drills afforded me hundreds of verses committed to memory, but the more verses I learned, the more condemnation I felt. Several years ago a friend and I were driving through an orange grove, and I admitted that of all of the verses I committed to memory, few of those verses had to do with grace. Most proclaimed law, judgment, and rebuke. From before sixth grade until my freshman year in college, I walked through the baptismal waters three times, hoping to wash away the accusations of my repeated failures. During those years, I met Jesus. I sincerely confessed my sin and repented of my sinful condition. I committed my entire life to him, yet the prison I was in kept me chained in a dark place that seemed inescapable. <br />
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College proved to be a memory that I wish could be undone. Depression and defeat dogged every step. Insecurity destroyed any relationship that came my way, and I successfully graduated from college with few, if any, long term friendships. My next stop was seminary, but even that journey began as a reaction to a painful experience. Efforts to get away from college life propelled me into graduate school, where once again, I tried to soothe my pain with education and theological learning. Friendships from seminary? I made three. Two roommates and a fellow lifeguard. I call them friends, though an outsider would find my role in the relationships lacking.<br />
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Three ministry positions, secular employment, and three more ministry positions forced me to deal with many of the failures in my life and the effect that the failures had on my present and the effect they would have on my future if I didn't face them head on. Decisions made in the past persisted in killing my future, but somehow the decisions made in the past clung to decisions made by others in my past on my behalf. The blame game became ineffective, and over time I found myself calling out to my Father asking for relief and mercy that only He could give. Somewhere in those moments the Spirit of God reminded me of another young Christ follower who made a monumental error in judgment. His life testifies to the truth that the gospel is for those coming to Christ and for those already in Christ. <br />
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Scholars tell us that John Mark came from a prominent family known for following Christ. His exposure to Jesus and the disciples introduced him to the gospel early in life. Tracing his family tree brings us to a cousin named Barnabas who introduced him to Paul. John Mark joined Paul and Barnabas on the first missionary journey, and at some point, he decided to go home. Scripture doesn't tell us why he went home, though many have speculated about the reason. Perhaps the Spirit of God left the reason a mystery so that we could make the generalization that no matter what the reason, no change of course forces devastation in our lives. What we do about the change of course matters immensely. At some point, John Mark decided to return to his mission. Paul refused to give him a second chance, but Barnabas saw grace and mercy in his life. Barnabas extended this grace and mercy to John Mark in a way that brought him back to Kingdom advancement. The Spirit graced us with the writing of John Mark in a gospel message and reminded us in one of Paul's letters that John Mark reentered active service for Christ with reckless abandon. Many sermons have been preached about Paul giving John Mark a second chance. What would happen if John Mark were preaching the sermon? Would he talk about Paul's influence and the second chance God offered through Paul? Most likely, he would not. Instead, John Mark would most likely preach boldly about the second chance God offered through Barnabas. Reconciliation with Paul likely mattered a great deal. Barnabas, however, never gave up on him. Barnabas never quit, never doubted, and never held John Mark's past against him.<br />
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Family members often won't let you forget. Friends and certainly enemies want you to remember your past forever. A few - maybe less than a handful - will pour out grace and mercy in your life. The Spirit provides some - maybe only one or two - who will serve as reminders of deeply embedded truths that every day pushes us to a second chance. Stop listening to those who thrive on your slavery to the past and instead listen to the Spirit through God's word and those who know well the One who wrote it. We can all begin again. Today. Now. Seize your moment this moment in time. <br />
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"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." Romans 8:1, ESV.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279068723278899883.post-82908148400371225012017-01-05T16:36:00.001-08:002017-01-05T16:47:46.336-08:00ElectionElection. This word has created all kinds of trouble for me. I suppose it's not really the word that has created trouble, but the meaning behind the word. Or not the meaning, but the usage. That's what a seminary professor of mine taught us. Words have usages, they don't have meaning. My kids remind me of this adage occasionally as they use words that mean nothing similar to what I know them to mean. For example, "That is lit ....." Most people would assume that if something is lit, a flame burns brightly nearby or that someone needs to call the firetruck. In the words of one politician who would become president, "WRONG!" I'm not really sure what "lit" means, so maybe you can ask someone much younger than you are to explain it. Ignore the eye rolls and the snickers, and just accept the fact that you - like me - are old. <br />
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Back to the subject at hand. Election. The first time the word created turmoil for me I was attempting to make a spiritual connection with deacons at the Baptist Church where the Lord placed me to pastor. I didn't use the word. I didn't really even consider the word. Actually, even the possibility of the word creates an ocean of conflict in some people's lives. This particular occasion was a study of the church by a well known Baptist leader. Only a handful of deacons participated, but apparently their wives were participating from a distance, and word got out that we were using material from said Southern Baptist leader who some had written articles about his theology without consulting him personally about said theology. Immediately accusations of Calvinism and false theology began to cascade throughout the small group of men. Notably, the men didn't even know what Calvinism was. They were trusting their wives for their biblical knowledge. You'll find that command in 2 Hezekiah chapter nowhere. Even though we never addressed the issue of predestination or reformed theology, these ladies took this cause as their banner. Actually, I think they just didn't like me and decided they would use this issue to rid the church of the cancer called Alan Permenter. Who would have thunk it??????? Many people would have thunk it actually. I've alienated more than I would like to remember. Anyway, their campaign failed, and I served the church for several more months, much to the chagrin of others who were living in this West Tennessee version of Peyton Place.<br />
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The second time the word election caused me a problem was most recently during the presidential race that we as Americans endured. Somehow I could not figure out how Christians could justify the actions of either candidate. On one hand, Christians supported a candidate based on her differences from her opponent. Interestingly enough, other Christians supported the opponent for the same reason. Elect a president because he are she opposes the views of the other candidates. An interesting approach, that is. <br />
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From time to time, I have been accused of not being able to keep my opinion to myself. Those of you who know me most likely had to sit down and take up drinking with that statement. You never would have known, right??? The first accusation came as a youngster when a family member told me that one day my mouth would get me into trouble. The most recent was just the other day when another family member said, in supposed sarcasm, "Well, I don't have to make a big deal about everything." I may have been born in Mississippi, but I wasn't born in the Delta. I get it already!! <br />
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In all seriousness, I would ask you to pray for me about that issue, because I don't want that weakness to characterize my life. Even I noticed that during the presidential race, occasions surfaced where I found myself unable to keep quiet. I tried, but some of the Facebook posts were too much. The constant posts by those who found it necessary to excuse the moral indiscretions of certain candidates got the best of me, and at one point, I remember saying that Christians needed to grow up and be willing to admit that they were voting against their conscience in order to keep someone else from being elected. If you are going to do it, then you should own it. Call it what it is, and stop trying to fool everyone else into seeing in your actions some spirituality that doesn't exist. One believer even went so far as to say that God was incapable of working through one particular candidate. Incapable!!!!! My God????? Not on your life. He parted the Red Sea, brought the dead to life, and rose from the grave Himself? Nothing is impossible for Our God!!! I digress.<br />
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The impetus for this post rests in the all too common practice to use words to divide and destroy. Labels prove dangerous in the hands of those who occupy pews most every Sunday morning (unless some sporting activity gets in the way of worshipping the Creator of the Universe and the Savior of our lives.) A seminary professor denied a project because he was afraid of the word sanctification. He preferred spiritual formation. I searched the scripture (Greek and Hebrew) and didn't find "spiritual formation," but I did find "sanctification." The only conclusion I could draw burst forth in my heart over the new few months. It wasn't the word "sanctification" that scared the seminary professor. The fear rested in exposure to the Word of God. He had been so spiritually formed, that he ignored the truth of God's word. Check out John 5:39-40. Jesus called him out before he was even born.<br />
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Paul told Timothy not to involve himself in foolish arguments and words that create division. Go on and read all of 2 Timothy. It's worth the effort. Words divide because we choose to let them do so. Christians need a good argument. I learned this fact growing up Baptist. We argued about money, about music, about the Holy Spirit, about church times, about everything under the sun. As I have gotten older and dumber, I have realized that I was actually trained to argue for argument sake. Don't get me wrong. <strong>It is completely my fault that I accepted the challenge</strong>. I'm just saying that in the church I was trained to listen for what was wrong so I could fight against it. How foolish!!!! <br />
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When we first lived in Ocala, a spiritual man chastised me and told me to return to the church we were considering leaving. He boldly spoke truth and told me that I was looking for something to be wrong instead of filling my role in the body. We returned to that body of Christ, and over the next year God did an amazing work and formed friendships that still stand today. What pastor tells someone to go back to the church from whence they came? Duane Hoffman is such a man. His concern did not rest in his kingdom, but in God's Kingdom and the advancement of His Kingdom in a way that held tightly to the integrity of the body of Christ. We are having trouble connecting with a church now that we have returned to Ocala. I wonder if Springfield, Missouri, is too far of a commute? Probably so, but the remnant of his leadership still remains in Ocala so there is hope in finding one life community for fellowship and spiritual discipline!!!<br />
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What might happen in our lives if we started listening for the pain of society and started applying the mercy of God to those pains? Instead of fighting and posting nonsense, what would happen if we started finding opportunity to position Christ as the healer and redeemer of lost humanity? What if one day went by that we didn't have anything to argue about? I'm not so sure that our Southern Baptist Convention isn't on the path toward division over words. Accusations and political persuasions. The division would break my heart for no mission effort has ever proven as powerful as the Cooperative Program, but the reality is that the mission effort works because of the first word, not the second. If we can't be cooperative, we are just a program, and programs have always and will always create debate clubs and social organizations thriving on the demise of another. <br />
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I'm guilty, yet I also feel like I'm dying. Dying to the Pharisee I have grown into and am being recreated into who God has called me to be. Pastor who God has called me to pastor. Those are the words the Father spoke three and a half years ago. Family and a few friends willing to reject the rhetoric and join the journey to leave a legacy of life in the Kingdom of God. Maybe you have a few yourself. Find them, grab hold of them, and run with reckless abandon toward the WORD who brings offense. The WORD who has meaning and not usage. The WORD who became FLESH. John 1. HIS NAME IS JESUS. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0