(Photo by Michelle Newell Photography, Lynnwood and Seattle, WA)
In a world where fame is measured in 15-minute increments, life declarations come in 140 characters or less, and you literally have nine seconds to capture somebody’s attention, it’s easy to assume you’re nothing special.
When it feels as though you’re in a rat race and the rats are winning, where your value is measured by your performance or the approval of others and neither is all that remarkable, it’s easy to get lost in the ordinariness of just blending in.
When life sometimes feels like that whac-a-mole game, where those who dare to appear above ground get pounded back to their place, it’s tempting just to hide what light you may have so nobody else will see it.
But those are the times – when life is a liar – those are the times to stand on the truth and receive again the message of grace. Those are the times to believe again that you are the object of God’s delight. [click to continue…]
I never laid eyes on you before.
Never had dreams come true before.
But there’s always a time for a new beginning.
Our multiplied sorrow now is through.
And all of the waiting’s over, too.
And it’s been worth it all, for this new beginning.
And who is like the Lord, who turns my mourning into dancing,
And holds all things together, in His hands?
He whispered, “Let there be…” and He began the world all over.
But this time He laid its future in my hands.
(Unfinished song I started 30 years ago today, when my baby girls were born)
Your life is an adventure in starting over.
You may prefer maintenance mode. You may want to pretend that you’re in perpetual motion. You may claim to be too old, too successful, too far along, or too [insert excuse here], but the fact is, your entire life is a collage of cycles and rhythms.
And that involves starting over. [click to continue…]
Okay, so you bit the dust.
Or somebody else rubbed your face in it.
You zigged when life or the economy or the whole dang world zagged, and now you’re in the soup.
As a 55-year veteran of falling, regardless of the reason, let me take on the role of Captain Obvious: It hurts. And it’s way past scary to try and get back up.
And that’s exactly why you’d better have a Source beyond your own willpower to make that happen. Check this out: [click to continue…]
Then there was that time Jethro stopped by.
Not Jethro Gibbs or Jethro Bodine. Jethro the daddy-in-law.
Moses and his father-in-law had a strange and wonderful relationship. Moses the young fugitive had whupped up on some bullies and given help to Jethro’s seven sheepherding daughters. Moses wound up with a job and one of Jethro’s daughters as a wife. Then while Moses was off delivering the Israelites from slavery at the hand of God, Jethro kept the wife and kids safe and sound back in Midian.
Jethro was, in effect, the father Moses never had.
Now, after the exodus and taking three million of his closest friends with him to the Promised land, Moses gets word that Jethro is on the way, with Moses’ household in tow. It was a sweet reunion, and you can read all about it in Exodus 18.
This was more than a family visit. Jethro had heard all the reports of what God had done. Jethro was a man of God himself. He wanted to see first-hand what a people so delivered and provided for by God looked like. What he got was a sort of Jekyll-and-Hyde experience. [click to continue…]
I.
There’s a word we use to describe a person who has never experienced the grace of God through faith in Jesus Christ. It’s a word that describes the human condition in primal terms – a reflection of something we once knew as a race, a description of how vainly we attempt to find it again.
The word: Lost.
To be lost is to experience some temporary goodness in this life – comforts, pleasures, and the like – and be clueless as to their Ultimate Source.
To be lost is search in vain for ultimate satisfaction in those temporary blessings and find only emptiness instead.
To be lost is to live in a material world that values life by gain and gold, and be blind to the sources of greatest joy and satisfaction. [click to continue…]
These are the days of a thousand moving parts. Things will settle soon, as much as things ever actually “settle” for me, but for the last six months we have been in the process of a major interstate move. We have moved a household, moved a business, and moved more than a few boxes.
Sometimes there are seasons of “transition.” That doesn’t even begin to describe this. And what makes it even heavier is that in the past there have been teams of people – people by the dozen – to help with the process. This time it’s been the two of us, aided by some herculean efforts of some friends and family.
And should I mention today’s news flash? I ain’t gettin’ any younger.
All of this on top of a regular work schedule that hasn’t waited for anyone or anything.
We all go through seasons like that – thankful that they’re just seasons. We move. We welcome new babies into the family. We change jobs or careers. We face upheavals at work. We take on more than we think we can handle. We are confronted with a fire or destructive weather event.
And all the parts start moving – some of them groaning all the way. [click to continue…]
Having it rough lately?
Blues gotcha by the, um, barnacles?
Feeling betrayed by your so-called friends, or battered by life in general?
Ready for that pity party?
Let me suggest a couple of guys to leave off the invitation list. [click to continue…]
“What is the secret of your life?” asked Mrs. Browning of Charles Kingsley; “Tell me, that I may make mine beautiful too?”
He replied, “I had a friend.” -William C. Gannet
It was 18 years ago this month that I came to this place… this place of tumbleweeds and dust and amazing sunsets and more amazing people.
It was nothing short of surrender. I had given up on me – the “me” of my own making or imagination, that is.
My friends in Atlanta asked, “Where are you moving?”
“To hell,” I replied. “If the world was flat, Lubbock would be on the edge of it.”
But oh what I discovered when I showed up as a shell of the man I once was. Most importantly, I discovered that God was here all the time, waiting so patiently for me to get here. [click to continue…]
It all started with that “Welcome to Mobile” sinus headache.
Ever go to bed with a mild ache that says, “You should probably address this before you get in bed?”
Yeah, about that.
I had this dull ache that turned into an evil roar at 3:30 in the morning. Sinuses. Head. Neck. Attitude. Everything was in pain.
I didn’t want to wake people up, and didn’t have a lot of options, so I tried taking a shower. That’s when my wife came in to see what was up.
Did I want some pain medicine, she asked?
Boy, did I.
Now I should mention that the “pain medicine” she referred to isn’t your basic over-the-counter pablum. This was he-man stuff… soon I’d be pain-free and loving everybody.
I should also mention that it isn’t wise to take this on an empty stomach. Bad things can happen. [click to continue…]
In one of old his “Peanuts” cartoons, Charles Schultz has Linus bringing manager Charlie Brown a statistical report on the baseball team. “In twelve games,” he said, “we almost scored a run and in nine games the other team almost didn’t score before the first out. In right field, Lucy almost caught three balls and once almost made the right play.” Then Linus concluded in the cartoon’s last frame with this classic statement: “We led the league in ‘almosts.’”
No doubt about it – Linus is prime preacher material. How many times have you heard a pastor say, “We almost met our offering goal?” Or, “We almost reached our attendance goal.” How many people have you known who almost came to church, who almost decided to follow Christ, or who almost trusted their situation to God? It happens – er, almost every weekend.
Come to think of it, we almost do so many things, we could start a whole new church – the First Church of Hand Grenades and Horseshoes. [click to continue…]