It was a year ago today.
In one sense, as my Dad said yesterday, it has flown by. In another, it felt like a thousand years.
But if one thing has emerged from the past 365 days, it’s that when people or Bible writers talk about the “God of All Comfort,” I can say “Amen” and turn the pages with credibility.
But it didn’t start – or end – with the events surrounding my mother’s sudden death. In fact, the biggest lesson of all was that healing of the heart is a journey through time.
Translation: Don’t tell me how much comfort or encouragement you’re feeling in the funeral home. You have no clue yet about comfort. You’re still being buoyed and insulated by kind people and the truths of your faith.
Comfort – the real kind – comes later.
In the last year, I have been blessed to live what I have preached for years – that the words we use about a Heavenly Father who is who is able to empathize with our weaknesses and invites us to boldly approach a throne of grace are all true. And believe me, other than the promise of eternal life, I can’t think of a promise that is more vital.
How does He do it? If you’re the one just leaving the cemetery or the courthouse or the hospital, what can you expect? How does the Lord put the pieces back together? While every experience of loss – whether it is through death, rejection, forced job termination, or the death of a dream – is unique, I think I have found some common elements in the way our Heavenly Father brings about His healing. [click to continue…]
It was one of those eye-opening days, I guess. Back to school time for me. I was living north of Dallas, and still involved in youth ministry. I taught a Monday night Bible Study that served as the centerpiece of the ministry, and on this particular night I passed out blank paper with a special request: List, in order, the five things it would take to make you perfectly happy.
How would you answer that?
I really thought I knew what the answers would be – a lot of selfish stuff like cars, a driver’s license, money, or popularity. But what I heard taught me a lesson I’ll never forget. Here are some of their actual answers: [click to continue…]
Jon Acuff recently shared the story of a coworker named Brian who had witnessed the death of a man in the gym a day before. Apparently he had a heart attack, and nobody could help, except to vainly call 911. Now a day later, the coworker was filled with regret and what-if scenarios.
Twenty years ago, James’ life took a detour through some moral quicksand. And though he can tell you in glowing terms today about the grace of God that lifted him out of the “miry clay” and “set his feet upon a rock,” sometimes the past comes blowing back in his face like a cold rain. Even though he lives today as a forgiven man, at times he still finds himself on the Highway of Regret.
I can certainly relate to both of those scenarios – helpless situations and careless choices. But the regrets that nag me the most have to do with unfinished business. [click to continue…]
An important part of creating a compelling future has to do with remembering. That’s why lately I’ve been visiting some museums on a fairly regular basis.
I’m not referring to anything with the words, “Smithsonian,” “Historical,” or “National” in it. The museums I’m talking about are in my head, some really old computer files, and my journals.
Lately I’ve been visiting the Dream Museum. I suggest you do the same.
The idea for this little excursion was planted in my heart last August at a men’s retreat, where my friend Mickey asked a compelling question:
What dreams have you had either stolen or detained, to the point you have given up on them? Maybe the Lord is telling you to pick that dream back up again.
That really registered with me. “Electrified” may be a better term.
(Pause. Are you entering your dream museum yet? Visiting what’s in mine may help me, but it won’t do much for you. So let me ask you what Mickey asked all of us: What dreams have YOU had that were either stolen or detained, to the point you have given up on them?)
I didn’t have an immediate answer to the question, other than some unfulfilled physical dreams that I believe were prophetic. But I couldn’t get over the gut feeling that some long-ago dream had been shelved to the point that I had forgotten about it, but the Lord hadn’t. [click to continue…]
Vision hurts.
Don’t believe me? Try dreaming about something that is exciting and important to you, only to be disappointed. But the alternative to vision isn’t much better. Instead of dreaming, you could play it safe. Be complacent. Wish for nothing and hit it every time.
Doesn’t sound like much of a choice, does it? Heartache or boredom. Tightrope with no net or treadmill with no hope. How do you make peace with your dreams? How do you keep from hating the whole process? How can you avoid “optiphobia” – the fear of vision?
Start with a little perspective. [click to continue…]
From our Fifth Anniversary Celebration
Walk inside my office and look to the left, just under the big window. There you will find one of my most cherished possessions. It’s an original framed caricature of a lion inside a cardboard box. It was given to me for Christmas 2003 by two dear friends. And it’s the kind of thing that when you see it, you know there’s a story behind it. And if you’re in my office for the first time, as a couple was yesterday, it’s only natural that you would ask about it.
So I thought I’d tell you the story behind it. This is the story of the Lion Dream. [click to continue…]
There are two places from which to dream – a place of frustration, or a place of contentment. Each has its own perspective and advantages.
Dreaming from a place of frustration is necessary, because without it, nothing would ever change. Dreaming from a place of contentment is necessary, because without it, nothing would ever remain rooted where it should be.
Dreaming from a place of frustration arms us with hope. Dreaming from a place of contentment coils us in faith.
Dreaming from a place of frustration helps define our boundaries. Dreaming from a place of contentment helps raise our standards. [click to continue…]
It’s time to dream again.
And in doing so, I will not content myself with yesterday’s progress.
I have seen my share of victories; I’ve won some battles, and maybe even a war or two.
But there are new victories to be won, and yesterday’s dreams will never achieve them.
When my greatest challenges are boredom and fatigue, I will rest in the womb of a new vision, and call forth even greater measures of faith and courage.
It’s time to dream again.
And in doing so, I will see beyond the road blocks and crashes. [click to continue…]
(Reconciling Your Dreams with God’s Plan)
Once upon a time, a young man had a dream – a prophetic dream. He dreamed that he had two homes, his own boat, and would travel internationally and be a blessing to many people. This could only mean one thing! Obviously God was calling him into the business world, where he would make a lot of money and use his wealth to make the world a better place.
After seeking some counsel and getting confirmation that he was headed in the right direction, he changed his college major to business and prepared for a life of benevolent wealth management.
Then he met her. [click to continue…]
In a previous administration, a lady in our church came back from a trip and brought me a page-per-day calendar. On each page was a funny cartoon about life in Church World. I loved it! Whoever the cartoonist is, he knows church people.
Whenever I found a cartoon that was particularly funny to me, I tried to share with somebody else I thought could appreciate it as much as I did. One day I found just such a cartoon. I laughed out loud, and it reminded me of someone. But it took me a minute to realize who the cartoon made me think of. Then like a lightning bolt it hit me: the name and face of an old friend. The things the cartoon made fun of were things that he and I used to laugh a lot about. It made me think of him so much, I almost sent it to him . . . in a blank envelope.
Within seconds my laughter had turned to a peaceful sadness. The cartoon was still funny, but the situation it reminded me of wasn’t. The last time I had contact with my old friend, I had disappointed him very badly. I didn’t mean to hurt him, and he knew that. He wasn’t bitter at me. I still called him my friend, although I hadn’t been much of a friend to him. But circumstances beyond our control had prevented us from healing and rebuilding what once was a wonderful, close friendship. It was very sad, and at times very painful.
That night I dreamed of him – I’m sure because of the cartoon. [click to continue…]
It was a year ago today. 
