Anger

I have to admit, I thought Joseph Jacobson was joking when he handed me his business card.  “Forgiveness Laboratories,” it said boldly.  The card identified Joe as the Director of Research. 

“Okay, I gotta ask…” I started.

“You want to know what a forgiveness laboratory is,” Joe anticipated.

“I’ll bet you hear that a lot.”

“Sure do,” Joe said with a smile.  “Why don’t you come by the lab for a visit sometime?”

So here I was, introducing myself to Gracie, the receptionist (yeah, I caught the irony in her name).

“I’m here to see Joe,” I started.  “Sorry I’m a little late.”

“We forgive you,” Gracie replied with a wry smile.  “I know… bad joke, but it comes with the territory.  Actually Joe is finishing up a couple of interviews and asked me to show you around.”

Gracie got up from her desk and shook my hand.  It was then that I first noticed that this charming, poised single mom was wearing a white lab coat. [click to continue…]

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In the course of this short year so far, I have been reminded suddenly, and sometimes rudely, how short life can be, and how there are no guarantees of the things or people we tend to take for granted in this world.

I have also been reminded that life is filled with the potential to make mistakes.  Sometimes those mistakes arise out of misguided values.  Sometimes out of boneheaded stubbornness.  Sometimes mistakes arise out of good things taken too far in self-serving directions.  Often those mistakes come when we lose our sense of balance.

I’ve thought a lot lately about how short life is, and frankly, sometimes how much shorter that I wish it could be.  Hillsong United’s “Soon” sure sounds appealing: [click to continue…]

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And you will be called priests of the Lord, you will be named ministers of our God.

You will feed on the wealth of nations, and in their riches you will boast.

Instead of their shame my people will receive a double portion,

and instead of disgrace they will rejoice in their inheritance;

and so they will inherit a double portion in their land,

and everlasting joy will be theirs (Isaiah 61:6-7, NIV).

It’s a scary journey, the move from shame to grace.  But it’s a journey every growing believer in Christ, every recovering addict, every healing soul must take.  The paths are often unfamiliar.  Lessons must be un-learned and relearned.  You will be forced to face down familiar, but largely unchallenged beliefs.

People who live in the realm of shame live in a world the Brennan Manning describes as “huffing and puffing to impress God.”

It’s a realm of performance.  Brownie points or self-condemnation.  Self-fixing mixed with wallowing in guilt.  Comparing ourselves to others in order to feel superior… or to prove what an absolute joke we are.  “You’re nothing,” shame whispers.  “And if people really knew you, they would agree.”

As much of a liar as shame is, sometimes it’s more comfortable to return to old patterns of thinking and feeling.  It’s embarrassing and uncomfortable to confront the truths of the scandalous grace of God.

“I am a creation of infinite worth?” Ridiculous.

“I am totally forgiven?” What do you mean, “totally?”

“I am completely loved, fully pleasing?” In what universe?  What absurd fantasy?

Challenge that!  Confess the truth, whether it lines up with your feelings or the twisted logic of shame or not.  And most of all, learn to accept the grace of God as it is expressed through the graciousness of others.

The secret is gratitude.  When a friend encourages you, when someone offers a gift, when another praises you, receive it with the same graciousness in which it was offered.

Try this for practice: [click to continue…]

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From Robes to Rags

by Andy Wood on April 9, 2009

in Five LV Laws, Principle of Eternity

ragsRag.  Now there’s an every-day word.

Unsophisticated, earthy, almost guttural – rags are blue-collar, made-for-dirt, hidden-from-company kind of stuff.

We all have them, but some people go to considerable lengths to deny it.

“It’s not a wash rag, dear.  It’s a wash cloth.”

“Oh.  Yew not from around heah, are ya’?”

That t-shirt or those shorts you’re wearing?  Rags in the making.

I grew up with wash rags, shop rags, shoeshine rags, snot rags (my dad’s term), and dust rags.  “Dust cloths” were the property of Yankees and people from other parts of town. [click to continue…]

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yelling-2Interested in getting a head start on your firewood for next winter?  I once heard of a unique way to drop a tree.  It seems some villagers in the Solomon Islands in the South Pacific have learned how to conquer the really big ones.  If a tree is too large to be felled with an ax, the natives cut it down by yelling at it.  (I’m not making this up.  I read it in a book, so it must be true.)  Just at dawn these woodsmen with special powers sneak up on a tree and suddenly scream at it at the top of their lungs.  They do this every day for 30 days, and the tree dies and falls over.  The theory is that yelling kills the spirit of the tree.  According to the villagers, it always works.

Felling by yelling.  Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?  Crazy enough to be true.

I’ll have to admit, though, I’ve never seen it happen.  I’ve never yelled at a tree (and I wouldn’t tell you if I had).  Not for thirty days.  Not for one day.  Furthermore, I’ve never seen anyone else yell at a tree.  So I can’t say by experience that hollering works on trees.

But it does work on kids.  I have seen that happen.

Works on spouses, too.

Some people yell at their cars or their washing machine, and it doesn’t seem to do much good.  But I’ve seen it drop a few pastors.  And I’ve seen it kill the spirit of a friend or two as well. [click to continue…]

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salt-and-light-2(Note:  This is out of sequence, but I couldn’t pass this by.  I’d like to know your thoughts.)

First, read this:

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. Now those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.  If we live by the Spirit, let us also walk by the Spirit. Let us not become boastful, challenging one another, envying one another.  (Galatians 5:22-26, NASU)

Then read this:  A Botched Abortion in Mother’s Own Words

Then read this again:

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. Now those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.  If we live by the Spirit, let us also walk by the Spirit. Let us not become boastful, challenging one another, envying one another.  (Galatians 5:22-26, NASU)

Please tell me you feel at least a little outrage.

Please tell me that you haven’t lived so long in a culture of death that this leaves you untouched.

But while you’re at it, please give me something better than violence or political rhetoric. [click to continue…]

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communityJan is a mother of four, two each from two failed marriages.  This morning, her 19-year-old lost his temper and verbally crushed his mother with a flurry of profanity and rage.  Jan wanted to die, literally. I got the call.

Last year, at the tender age of 44, Bruce became a husband for the first time.  Less than a month later, his bride, this time blushing with anger, ordered Bruce out of the house.  Their divorce was final last week.

Larry introduced himself to me by telling me how he was betrayed and fired by his corporate board.  Then he faced the most insidious wound of all – the church wound.  After months of being ostracized, the victim of church politics, Larry finally realized the need for a change. “When your wife has to take a tranquilizer on Sunday mornings just to go to church,” he said, “it’s time to do something different.”

All these people share two things in common.  First, they’re living in the Land of Nod (see the previous post).  The age that’s given us instant gratification, disposable everything, and technology-on-demand has elevated revolving door relationships to an art form.  The people I just introduced you to are Exhibit A.

Second, on Sundays they’re in our church.  [click to continue…]

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Are You Living in the Land of Nod?

by Andy Wood on February 4, 2009

in Life Currency, Love

broken-homePreston is about 14 months old; his future is literally wide open in front of him.  But even as young as he is, he already is feeling the effects of a broken home.  He didn’t ask for it, but for the rest of his life he’ll be living in the Land of Nod.

Gina grew up in the perfect family – at least that’s what everyone believed.  But they didn’t hear the verbal and occasional physical abuse Gina suffered growing up.  Very few understand the strange combination of anger and shyness that marks her personality today.  But the long trail of disrupted friendships and broken romances tell the painful story.  Gina is living in the land of Nod.

In the aftermath of history’s first broken relationship, the Bible says that Cain “went out from the presence of the Lord and dwelt in the Land of Nod, on the East of Eden” (Genesis 4:16).  As a race, we’ve been living in the aftermath of broken relationships – in the Land of Nod – ever since.

Are We Still That Clueless?

It’s amazing.  Thousands of years of history have passed, and we’ve learned an awful lot.  These days the knowledge available to the world doubles at rates we measure by minutes rather than centuries.  What’s more amazing to me, however, is what we have yet to learn. [click to continue…]

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Sticks and Stones

by Andy Wood on June 16, 2008

in Life Currency, Turning Points, Words

(A Turning Point Story) 

Angry teenager“I never thought the doors of a church would be locked,” said Danny Kincaid.  But locked they were.  So Danny spent the night on the church bus.  It was the only place he could find to put a roof over his head.

Danny was in his early 20s; I was in my early college years.  I met Danny after some other people (who weren’t exactly thrilled about his accommodations) met him first.  They introduced him to our youth pastor, who led Danny to faith in Christ.  He also offered Danny a place to stay – his own home – until he could get on his feet.  That’s where I came in. I was a youth ministry intern, and got to know Danny as he hung out with Willard and the rest of us.  Way too old for the youth group, Danny was a fixture around the youth staff as we practiced a version of “discipleship by hanging out.”

One day Danny and I were driving around town looking for him a job and place to live, and he told me a story that haunts me to this day.  When he was very young, through a series of circumstances beyond his control, he came to live with his grandparents.  I don’t remember why.  Maybe it was a divorce.  Maybe his parents died.  At any rate, Danny wound up growing up in South Carolina with a grandmother he still referred to as “Mommy.”

As Danny became a teenager, he went through the typical rebellious stages that most adolescents encounter – made all the more extreme because his generation gap was times-two.  He had a temper.  And a mouth.  And he knew how to flex both.

One day Danny and Mommy got into an argument, and it got pretty heated.  She said some things.  He said some things.  They got madder and madder.  Finally, Danny screamed out, “I wish you were dead!”  And he stormed out of their mobile home and slammed the door.

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AngryBret* was a Sherman tank.  Didn’t drive one; he was one.  He was ticked off – at me!  And he wasn’t in a mood to pout or negotiate.  He came with a verbal Uzi, convinced I had done him wrong, and he was going to let me know about it.  (For the record, he was wrong about me doing him wrong, but he was in no mood to hear it.  Or hear anything, for that matter.)

Right in the middle of the tirade, as this hulk of a man was blowing me away, I had this surreal experience.  It was the Lord, I believe, speaking to me.  “Just let him finish.  With everything he has to say.”  So I did.  I just sat there and took it.  I didn’t like it.  I didn’t like his attitude.  I didn’t like his complete blindness to the facts.  But I took it.

“Is there anything else?”

“No, that’s about it,” he said very gruffly.

“Okay, well I’m very sorry you feel that way.  I’ll see to it that you never feel that way because of me again.”

That was 11:00 a.m.  At 2:00 p.m., the phone rang; it was Bret again.  Totally different story.

“Man, I just want you to know, I’m on your team.  I so appreciate you.”

I quickly ruled out the possibility of demon possession, mental illness (that one took a bit longer), or bribe money.  No, Bret had just emptied himself of his poison.  And he meant it.  He was on my team.

[click to continue…]

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