LV Cycle

I know a guy named Garrett who has completely changed my impression of him in a matter of a couple of years.  When I first met him, he came across as a slacker – lazy, unmotivated, and a pretty bad student.  But the last time I saw him he had rewritten his story – at least the one that played out in my head.  Truth is, Garrett is sharp, actually quite brilliant as a communicator, and a potential world changer.

What made the difference?

Time.  Perspective.  A little experience.  In Garrett’s case, he never stopped anything or changed anything.  I just had more time to get to know what he was capable of.  The one who needed changing was me.

Sarah and Ben were a different case.  [click to continue…]

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Something happens at the end of the day when the to-do list loses its power, the however-many words we use have escaped us, and the sinks and tubs and TVs have done their duty.  Life gets still.  Sometimes for a fleeting moment before sleep.  Sometimes, like last night for me, for a surprising length of time.  Borrowing from ancient practices, I like to call these moments the Watches of the Night.  Even though the body is tired, another part of you is still very awake.

It’s there, in the quiet stillness, that you can hear Him if you listen in your spirit.

It’s the same Gentle Whisperer that Elijah heard in the mouth of the cave.

He’s the Mighty to Save, who quiets your soul in the most beautiful of ways… He rejoices over you with singing.

This is no task for angels or even people.  This is a visitation in love fitting only for One who can take such personal delight in you, despite your weakness or failure.  And in the Watches of the Night, He Himself becomes the descant of your soul.

Listen with your heart, and in the Watches of the Night, you can hear Him lifting your soul, singing to your hope that He will come back to you again.  He sings to your regrets with His stubborn love, casting them into the depths of the deepest sea.  And in his delight over you, He buoys your heart to face new challenges and new opportunities for patience and endurance. [click to continue…]

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This just in:  God wants your joy to be full.

I know, I know!  It shocked me, too!

I was having coffee with a friend a few years ago and he mentioned a quote from Jesus:  “Until now you have asked for nothing in My name; ask and you will receive, so that your joy may be made full” (John 16:24).

“God wants your joy to be full,” my friend said prophetically.  That resonated with me.  Deeply.

“I’ve had many joyful moments,” I confessed, “but I can’t tell you when the last time was I had joy on that level.”

How about you?  When was the last time you experienced a joy so deep you could barely contain it?

I’m talking about something that Nehemiah says is your strength – this joy of the Lord.  It’s the result of a supernatural exchange, according to Isaiah’s prophecy.  The Spirit of God anointed Jesus to exchange your mourning and ashes for beauty and joy.  Jesus later told his disciples that they would mourn at his death, but that their mourning would be turned to joy when they saw him again.  And, as they asked in his name, they would receive, and their joy would be full.

So… just to make this clear… [click to continue…]

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I can’t get this picture out of my head.  It’s from Stuff Christians Like, by Jonathan Acuff.  Jon describes a scene that took place at the ice cream bar at Chuck E. Cheese when he was in the second grade.

I remember when I was in the second grade watching a fifth grader fall apart at the ice cream bar. The problem he faced was that the hot dog bar was right next to it. While was waiting in line I watched him take a big bowl of pristine white soft serve vanilla ice cream and approach the first condiment dispenser. He pressed down hard and out came a serving of mustard.

It was all over his ice cream and he looked down at it with complete and utter devastation. I felt bad for him but out of nowhere a Chuck E. Cheese employee jumped in and said, “Here, that’s okay. Here’s a new bowl of ice cream. That’s okay. Here you go; have some new ice cream.”

I’ll never forget that little boy’s face as he looked up at the employee and down at his ruined bowl of ice cream. He was so ashamed at what he had done, so embarrassed that he had put mustard on it that he paused and then told the employee, “I’m fine. I’m fine. It’s not a big deal. I’m fine.” And then he started to stir the mustard into the ice cream.

He tried as hard as he could to mix that bright yellow mustard into the bright white vanilla ice cream. Finally it all became this pale emo-yellow-colored mush. He looked back up and then returned to his table, presumably to choke down his mustard ice cream.

What the kid didn’t understand was that when someone purchased his trip to the ice cream bar, they were giving him unlimited access to the ice cream maker.  But in his mind and world, “the ice cream is free, but the rest is up to me.”

Reminds me of me.  And many Christians I know. [click to continue…]

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How do you want to be remembered?

By what you did?  What you said?  Who and how you loved?  What you accomplished or overcame?

That may or may not happen.

I was chatting with someone yesterday about the idea of legacy – one of those Five Laws of LifeVesting.  He asked me to clarify what I meant and how people leave legacies after their time on earth is done.  I said that legacy has two parts – the intentional and the unplanned.

There are some things I want to be remembered for, and I take action to make those memories while I still have a chance by investing my life in things that will live on after me.  This is why people give money, write things, do art or music, or make memories with people, just to name a few.

But your legacy has a life of its own, and you’re making memories all the time, whether you realize it or not.  Some of those are pretty routine.  Some are painful.  Some are glorious, and you don’t even know it.

Two days ago I got an email from Gotta-Love-Google-Land.  It came from somebody I knew in my very first church staff position, 33 years ago.  The message, framed with “thank you,” contained some profound memories.  What was interesting, though, was what all those memories had in common. [click to continue…]

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I.

If you ever wanted to write a forever kind of song
That angels or children or the big choirs sing…
If you’ve ever wanted to rhyme with the heart
Of the One who bends the rainbow
And deserves even more than your finest praise…
 

Then make your music with a life of passion.
Spell it out with clearly with actions of love.
Dance in the reign of King of the ages.
Promise your steadfast, immovable service,
Then hold in His beautiful power your faithfulness.
Show the whole world His symphony in you.

II.

If you ever wanted to write a together kind of song
Of friends or family or heroes or darlings…
If you’ve ever wanted to love someone else in the music,
Yet knew that your most heartfelt expressions
Were still so short of all they deserve from you… [click to continue…]

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“I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

Given my history with that kind of meeting request, I’m embarrassed to admit that my first instinct was to brace for bad news.  And given the fact that it came from my father-in-law, of all people, made me think I must really be in trouble.

What in the world could he possibly want?  What was so serious?  I started collecting a mental inventory of possibilities.  And in my head, started apologizing before I ever knew what the “something” was.

Turns out, apologies weren’t on the agenda.

Harlan Willis is one of the most tenderhearted, godliest men I know.  He has followed Christ since the age of 10, and committed himself to the Lord to become a medical missionary at the age of 15.  Both were profound experiences, and as a result, he invested a huge portion of his life to serving Christ and advancing the gospel in Thailand – and now for years in West Texas, where, at age 82 he is still practicing medicine and sharing Jesus.

But for years something has nagged him.  Bothered him since his teenage years.  That something has been the impression that he should be baptized.  Again.

And that’s what he wanted to talk to me about.  And he wanted me to do it.

Didn’t make sense.

For years he wondered if it was just the devil.

That didn’t make sense, either

But he couldn’t do it in Thailand!  What would the people there think?  What would the other missionaries think?

He couldn’t do it back in Texas.  What would the people in the church think?

This wasn’t a case of getting his baptism out of order, as often happens when people are baptized who really don’t understand what it is they are responding to in the gospel.

He knew.  Age 10.  And baptism came later.

But yet… here was this feeling.  This call. [click to continue…]

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I once read that among those who run in marathon races, somewhere around the 18th mile to the 22nd mile of that 26-mile run, the runner hits “The Wall.”

(That’s about as close as I’ll ever get to a marathon, other than the three days I just hiked through the Disney jungle, but I digress…)

The Wall is a place so hard that the runner thinks he or she can’t possibly continue the race.  It’s a little uncertain whether The Wall is physical or psychological, but it’s real.  And the temptation to drop out of the race is greater at this point than at any time in the race.  The runner feels he can’t make it.  The lungs burn, the heart pounds, and the runner fights dizziness and nausea.  A little voice begins to whisper (or scream), “Why torture yourself?”

You may not run 26-mile marathons, but if you are a follower of Christ, that fact alone means you are in an endurance race.  And you can expect at times to encounter “The Wall.”

You will find The Wall when you have tried time after time to pray consistently, and have failed. [click to continue…]

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Jason meant well.  But his efforts to help the butterfly-to-be only ended in disaster.  For days he had watched the cocoon and wondered what it would produce.  Finally he noticed a tiny opening in the cocoon’s wall.  On the other side, the new life form was struggling furiously – desperately – to be free of its self-designed prison.  Feeling compassion for the little creature, the boy found a sharp knife and carefully cut the cocoon’s wall in order to relieve it from its struggle.

The butterfly soon died.  Its wings were grossly deformed, and it was unable to fly.  What appeared to be a struggle was actually the process by which the animal’s wings are formed.  Jason had short-circuited the process, and the results, though unintentional, were tragic.

You and I are very much like the butterfly.  We are often wrapped up in our own kinds of cocoons – alone, stifled, limited, longing to be free.  Sometimes these are prisons of our own doing – addictions, bondage to sin, broken relationships, stupid decisions.   At other times our cocoons are thrust upon us in the form of disappointments, losses of loved ones, extended illnesses, or the abuse of others.  Either way, the results are the same.  Why do we feel so alone?  What in the world is God up to?  Where will we ever find relief?  When will we be “free to fly” again?  How will we make it through another day? [click to continue…]

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Had coffee with a sweet friend last week.  She was describing the amazing things the Lord has worked in her life over the summer as she has gone through a wonderfully painful, gloriously gut-wrenching season.  Each day the Lord has brought new strength, insights, healing, and refreshing as she prepares for a future that is far less certain… but far more peaceful.

Did you get that?

Far less certain, but far more peaceful.

Like many people, she had defined peace and satisfaction in terms of being able to predict what the future held (among other things).  Now as she returns to school, she heads off into an unknown destiny, with lots of uncertainties.  But she has a phenomenal peace that she is being held right in the center of God’s heart and hand.

Here’s how she expressed it to me.  I was so touched, I wanted to share it with you (my paraphrase): [click to continue…]

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