Dave was going through a rough season. Looking back on it now, the load seems pretty mind-numbing. He was being viciously verbally attacked by other people, including complete strangers. His casual acquaintances were keeping their distance, but he had that feeling you get when all eyes are upon you.
He was physically impaired for a while, and his health looked pretty grim at one point. I would say his life flashed before his eyes, but in Dave’s case it was more like his life grabbed him by the ankle and started dragging. Dave was understandably terrified.
Then to make matters worse, one of Dave’s closest, most trusted friends betrayed him. And for some time Dave had dealt with the anguish, disbelief, and downright bitterness that comes with that kind of pain.
But through it all, Dave learned a powerful lesson. And you can read all about it in Psalm 55. The lesson: [click to continue…]
In 1835 a man visited a doctor in Florence, Italy. He was filled with anxiety and exhausted from lack of sleep. He couldn’t eat, and he avoided his friends. The doctor found that he was in prime physical condition. Concluding that his patient needed to have a good time, the physician told him about a circus in town and its star performer, a clown named Grimaldi. Night after night he had the people rolling in the aisles. “You must go and see him,” the doctor advised. “Grimaldi is the world’s funniest clown. He’ll make you laugh and cure your sadness.”
“No, he can’t help me,” said the patient. “You see, I am Grimaldi!”
It’s one of those ironies, a paradox of life in general, and a hidden truth of Kingdom life in particular. Laughter flows out of pain. Joy would be nonexistent without sorrow. Grace wouldn’t exist if there were no need for it. And what I lack becomes the basis for what I have to offer. [click to continue…]
Sheriene Harris was looking forward to her dad coming to stay with her. Then the two of them were going to take her son to football camp in the summer.
They had plans.
Instead, her father, age 70, had a urinary tract infection and needed to go to the hospital. There he had a massive heart attack and died.
“I felt that he had so much more life to live,” Sheriene said. “God, what happened?”
It didn’t make sense.
“All I kept saying to God was, “WE HAD PLANS!”
Apparently God had other plans.
What do you do when your plans collide with God’s? Especially when your plans are noble, life-affirming, loving, or even kingdom-building? [click to continue…]
When the burdens overwhelm me
And the floods begin to rise
When I see the circumstances
Through lonely, helpless eyes,
There’s a place to go for refuge
And a place to be restored.
And when the storm has passed away,
I’ll be stronger than before.
It’s a place called Higher Ground. David referred to it as a “rock that is higher than I” (Psalm 61:1). “Take me there when my heart is overwhelmed,” he prayed.
Growing up on the Gulf Coast, it was fairly common to hear small craft advisories and warnings of approaching storms or hurricanes in which people in “low‑lying areas” are warned to move to higher ground. The danger for them is that the storm can literally overwhelm them.
In Psalm 61, David finds himself in a situation in which he is under such pressure of heart that he doesn’t think he can deal with it by himself. He’s in a “low-lying area” spiritually and circumstantially. Can you relate? [click to continue…]
What do you do when you come to the edge of something you want but can’t get there? How do you handle it when you have a clear sense of who you want to be, what you want to be able to do, or what you want to have… but only come away frustrated and defeated? What do you do when you want so badly to push past your limitations and weaknesses, but can’t ever seem to find a way?
You do the one thing you actually can do. And if you’re like most people, you probably won’t, because it sounds so simple.
Check out this snippet of conversation: [click to continue…]
It’s a small, weary feeling you carry day and night
Against a vast expanse of time, trouble, and exhaustion.
You’re at the mercy of circumstances that somebody else controls.
You feel jerked and tossed back and forth like a rudderless boat.
Lost for direction or answers,
You’re still moving, but you don’t quite know where…
You’re still seeking,
But sometimes you forget what the questions were in the first place.
Yet something keeps you hanging on –
A voice that says, “I’m here, be strong,”
A prayer of faith, a nighttime song
Of hope that says, “This won’t be long.”
Someone keeps you hanging on. [click to continue…]
(Cool things I’ve heard somebody pray, #2… You can find #1 here.)
One of my favorite things to do when we had elders meetings was to spend time praying for each other. Sometimes we’d share where we were in life, then intentionally ask the men there to pray for someone else in the room, based on what that person had talked about.
Someone had shared a pretty heavy request, and my friend Michael was praying for him. And Michael said something to the Lord that stopped me in my tracks:
“There’s nothing too big for a God like you.”
This was more than an intellectual acknowledgement or a theological affirmation.
It. Was. Worship.
It was a faith declaration that suddenly made the prayer need seem not so ominous or obnoxious. And it reminded me of Who it was we were talking to in the first place. [click to continue…]
On Sage Avenue, just north of Airport Boulevard in Mobile, Alabama, you’ll find the still-proud structure of St. Pius X Catholic church, built in 1968. I’ve never been inside of it for any reason. But I’ve bragged on it a lot. Especially to my friends at Mrs. Cobb’s Day Care that met at the Methodist church across the street back in the summer of ’69.
In between using tennis racquets as air guitars to tunes like “Proud Mary” and “Daydream Believer,” and acting out our own living music videos to “Seven Little Girls, Sittin’ in the Back Seat, Kissin’ and a Huggin’ with Fred,” we’d hang out on the playground and I’d brag about “My Daddy’s Company.”
Actually it wasn’t his, but he worked for one of Mobile’s premier construction firms during the time when a boy most wants to be proud of his dad.
Martin Builders had just finished the beautiful sanctuary at St. Pius. They also built such local landmarks as the Spanish Plaza and Malaga Inn downtown, parts of Bel Air Mall, and the Mobile Greyhound Park (not to proud of that one). And oh, how I would brag – obnoxiously – about “my Daddy’s company” and what they had done.
My first paycheck came from Martin Builders – a whopping $8.00 for cutting the grass. That evolved into summer work for a couple of hot, humid summers, where I learned what builders actually do and what they need to get the job done. [click to continue…]
Callie has been seeking the Lord a lot lately. That’s because not very many people are seeking Callie, and the loneliness hurts. Badly. Truth be told, Callie sometimes seeks the Lord to give Him a piece of her mind. But she has developed the kind of relationship with God where that level of honesty is common.
Callie believes. But her faith is being tested, almost as much as Stephen’s.
Stephen feels as though he’s two steps past the edge of the ledge, and “all” he has to stand on is the promises of God. But Stephen wants more. He wants some evidence – a little sight to go with his faith. He’s willing to do anything for God, but he wants to know exactly what that “anything” is, and feels terribly insecure in the face of an unclear future.
Stephen believes. But his faith is being tested, almost as much as John and Julie. [click to continue…]
John Smoltz was famous for getting himself in trouble.
He’ll be in the Baseball Hall of Fame for the ways he could get himself out.
Smoltz didn’t always start well, but he knew what to do when he got himself into trouble. He describes the mental process he would go through in his book, Starting and Closing. At some point he would take his game to an entirely different level. And the mental signal he would give himself: Rally time.
That’s a theme that I’m seeing all over the world these days. In one situation after another, we’ve gotten ourselves into trouble. In baseball language, there’s one run in, the bases are loaded, and nobody out.
Rally time.
It’s rally time in places like Colorado and Pennsylvania, as people are looking to make sense out of the senseless and somehow create a world where kids can be safe. But the rally comes from recognizing that our hope isn’t built on metal detectors and psychobabble, but on the peace of God that passes all understanding.
It’s rally time in places like Washington and state capitals everywhere, as incumbents try to keep their jobs and others try to take them away – all based on promises and politics. But the rally comes from recognizing that our hope isn’t built on Republicans or Democrats, but on the government of the Lord God. [click to continue…]
Dave was going through a rough season. Looking back on it now, the load seems pretty mind-numbing. He was being viciously verbally attacked by other people, including complete strangers. His casual acquaintances were keeping their distance, but he had that feeling you get when all eyes are upon you.
