The question of our day seems to be, What can we know? There are those on one end of the spectrum who say that nothing can be known for sure. That we cannot be certain of anything. Their natural conclusion is that there is no truth -- or at least any objective truth. All we have is what we perceive and thus everything is both subjective and relative. So we come up with our personal truths. It's true for you and that is about as far as it goes.
On the opposite end of the spectrum are those who are entirely committed to objective truth -- and nothing else. All that exists is what can be tested. These folks say, "I'll believe in God when his existence can be proven in the laboratory." For them it's all about empirical evidence.
Ironically, both of these views -- nothing is real and only the physical world is real -- although they are diametrically opposed, tend to be the two acceptable positions among the intellectual elite.
Hmmm. Looks like our search for meaning may be more complicated than we first thought. It would seem that it is not just religion that is floundering but also philosophy and science are not doing much better. We could argue for hours as to just who has the best view on meaning and we'd probably just have to agree to disagree. There are a lot of answers out there. It is like an endless all you can eat smorgasbord and have we ever learned to overeat. It is technically called pluralism, but it is fundamentally an all-you-can-eat salad bar of beliefs. There are an endless number of belief systems around us and the issue is not so much that we have to choose between them, but that we can pick and choose the parts we like best from each one.
There was once a time when everyone who lived in the same community shared the same beliefs. We were all part of a tribe and had a tribal shaman who would pass along to us the beliefs, values and culture that held us together. We didn't really have a lot of options back in the day and it may not have even occurred to us that there were even other ways to think, others ways to see reality, other ways to believe. Not so today ... we have lots of options and opportunities. We can have it our way.
I remember when it all began in my adolescent days. Burger King freed us from standardization. Imagine the possibility of ordering a burger made specifically to our order. Many of you have no idea what I am even talking about. Of course, you can have it your way. You know no other way.
Another example ... say you wanted to buy your girlfriend or child a stuffed teddy bear ... you went to the toy store [no internet, e-Bay, Amazon.com in those days] and picked out a stuffed bear ... there wasn't much selection. Just yesterday at the Governor's Square Mall here in Tallahassee I walked past the Build-A-Bear store. As you no doubt are aware, this is a store where you have basically an endless number of options for the bear you want to create. After you've picked out all your accessories, a store employee stuffs it, sews it up, checks you out and you're good to go. It is pretty much the same these days with religion. You don't need to carefully find one; weigh one against the other; you can just make one.
Once only the cultural elite would engage in philosophy; now everyone is a philosopher ... hence this blog and the myriad of blogs on the web. What is strange, though, is that we seem more motivated to create our own truth than we are to search for it.
Perhaps it is important to remember here that more is not always better. And when you throw in all the countless voices who have become the cultural experts in pop psychology even the most compulsive among us may agree that less is more. However, this moment does provide a great opportunity for self-discovery. If ever there was a moment when we could see that the proof of God is not in the answers, it is now. If anything, the endless number of options only moves us toward disbelief. We may not be able to exactly put our finger on it, but what actually is happening is that our souls are being spammed.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
The Way of Jesus v. The Way of the Jedi
Those of you who know me well likely know my favorite movie of all time is Star Wars Episode VI: The Return of the Jedi and it follows that the Star Wars saga is also my favorite movie series [perhaps excluding the dreadful Episode I: The Phantom Menace and its doofus character Jar Jar Binks]. I, and perhaps you do as well, find it hard not to be intrigued by the not so subtle spirituality of the series. I mean, who would not like to be able to tap into the mystical power that is The Force?
Many might be surprised to learn, however, that at its core Star Wars reflects the Hindu worldview of its creator George Lucas. And while God has been declining in popularity over the past thirty years in the west, the same cannot be said for The Force which remains at the top of the polls. Our attraction to The Force is just more evidence that our souls long for God. At our core we know that something is missing, that there is more to us than just flesh and bone.
The challenge is deciding which side of The Force we will choose -- the good side or the dark side. So far so good, right? Of course, we are going to choose the Jedi way. Who would even want to be a Sith anyway? Well, except perhaps for the cool masks they get to wear. But I digress.
But as the story unwraps in Episodes II & III: The Clone Wars and the Revenge of the Sith, we find ourselves torn by Anakin's dilemma. These films relate the transformation of young Anakin, a budding Jedi, into the infamous Darth Vader. How can such an awful thing happen to a young Jedi-in-training, especially one with such great promise?
The way of the Jedi is a life of honor but it is also a life of detachment. He must give up his right to love, to feel and even to be loved. He must learn to live a life absent of desire. This is the way of the Jedi. This is what it means to choose the good.
The way of the Sith is the only other option presented. There is darkness there, and this is where one's passions will lead him if he is unable to vanquish or relinquish them. Anakin, of course, has a dilemma. He was in love with young Queen Amidala, which presented quite a problem. Granted, he had a lot of other problems too. But fundamentally this was the choice before him -- either to live a life of detachment or to live a life of passion. What a very difficult position to put such a young man in! How many of us would have chosen differently?
The history of mankind shows just how our passions have left an endless trail of devastation. Left to ourselves, it seems, desire will only lead us to the dark side. It is easy to see how compelling this view can be, but may I suggest that Jesus offers us another way. Let Him change us at our cores and then let our passions fuel our lives.
Spirituality and desire are not in conflict from Jesus' perspective. In fact, He teaches that a genuine spirituality results in the passionate pursuit of this life. I believe that many have given up on such a pursuit of spirituality precisely because they didn't know what to do with their desires and passions [the Hindu/Jedi way of just vanquishing or relinquishing them seemed either impossible or impractical]. No one ever told them that they were placed there by God, and that they were intended to be the fuel that would drive them to pursue their dreams and visions.
At the same time, we must heed the warning of the Sith: that unrestrained passions, passions lacking a moral compass, will lead us to lives that are self-destructive and that hurt anyone who chooses to come near us or go with us. Our greatest danger is in living for whatever we can take and devour now thus destroying our futures in the process.
Our souls do, in fact, crave for more. It is not, however, because they are insatiable, but because we know there is more to be had.
Many might be surprised to learn, however, that at its core Star Wars reflects the Hindu worldview of its creator George Lucas. And while God has been declining in popularity over the past thirty years in the west, the same cannot be said for The Force which remains at the top of the polls. Our attraction to The Force is just more evidence that our souls long for God. At our core we know that something is missing, that there is more to us than just flesh and bone.
The challenge is deciding which side of The Force we will choose -- the good side or the dark side. So far so good, right? Of course, we are going to choose the Jedi way. Who would even want to be a Sith anyway? Well, except perhaps for the cool masks they get to wear. But I digress.
But as the story unwraps in Episodes II & III: The Clone Wars and the Revenge of the Sith, we find ourselves torn by Anakin's dilemma. These films relate the transformation of young Anakin, a budding Jedi, into the infamous Darth Vader. How can such an awful thing happen to a young Jedi-in-training, especially one with such great promise?
The way of the Jedi is a life of honor but it is also a life of detachment. He must give up his right to love, to feel and even to be loved. He must learn to live a life absent of desire. This is the way of the Jedi. This is what it means to choose the good.
The way of the Sith is the only other option presented. There is darkness there, and this is where one's passions will lead him if he is unable to vanquish or relinquish them. Anakin, of course, has a dilemma. He was in love with young Queen Amidala, which presented quite a problem. Granted, he had a lot of other problems too. But fundamentally this was the choice before him -- either to live a life of detachment or to live a life of passion. What a very difficult position to put such a young man in! How many of us would have chosen differently?
The history of mankind shows just how our passions have left an endless trail of devastation. Left to ourselves, it seems, desire will only lead us to the dark side. It is easy to see how compelling this view can be, but may I suggest that Jesus offers us another way. Let Him change us at our cores and then let our passions fuel our lives.
Spirituality and desire are not in conflict from Jesus' perspective. In fact, He teaches that a genuine spirituality results in the passionate pursuit of this life. I believe that many have given up on such a pursuit of spirituality precisely because they didn't know what to do with their desires and passions [the Hindu/Jedi way of just vanquishing or relinquishing them seemed either impossible or impractical]. No one ever told them that they were placed there by God, and that they were intended to be the fuel that would drive them to pursue their dreams and visions.
At the same time, we must heed the warning of the Sith: that unrestrained passions, passions lacking a moral compass, will lead us to lives that are self-destructive and that hurt anyone who chooses to come near us or go with us. Our greatest danger is in living for whatever we can take and devour now thus destroying our futures in the process.
Our souls do, in fact, crave for more. It is not, however, because they are insatiable, but because we know there is more to be had.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Hope: Both From & For the Future
It is important to live each moment to the fullest, but it also just as important to be sure that we do not only live the the moment. Those who do not believe in an afterlife will almost certainly try to find purpose in the present. We/they, however, can only do this if we/they at least believe in the "after now." We have to believe in tomorrow to function well today. It is never enough [despite the posits of the existentialists, humanists, nihilists and hedonists] for us to simply exist, and if all we have is now, our souls will starve from lack of nourishment. Without a future there is no hope, and hope is essential for our souls to thrive. Hope exists only in the future, and if the future does not exist, there can be no hope. Our minds may work out an endless number of scenarios; our souls, however, are quite inflexible when it comes to this. Without hope there is only despair.
A sense of destiny is what we experience when we are filled with hope. And all of us are on a search for destiny. We all need to believe we have both a future and a hope. They are inseparably linked. And when there is no future, there is no hope. Where there is no hope, there is no reason to live.
Martin Luther King, Jr. had a dream and he was killed for it. When we have no dream, it kills us. It is the same way with hope. Hope pulls us into the future. Yet as essential as hope is for life, we live in a world that seems determined to take it from us. Hope is rare and becoming rarer, but we don't need much of it to experience its power. We become filled with hope not because everything in the future is certain to us, but because the future itself is filled with promise.
At the same time, like the promise of the future, hope only comes from something we have not yet attained, something we do not yet have. In other words, how much we have presently in the world has little bearing on how much hope we have. The reality is that everything we have presently no longer qualifies as a conduit of hope, because once we have it, it falls out of the arena of hope.
Hope pulls us into the future because it comes from there. And while hope is connected to the future, it is impossible to live in the present without it. There is a simple reason for this. It is how God has designed us. Hope is the oxygen of the soul. We tend to take for granted the things that are the most obvious to us. Compare it to being worried about having enough money to pay our bills but never worrying about having enough air to breathe. In reality though, which one is more critical to life?
A sense of destiny is what we experience when we are filled with hope. And all of us are on a search for destiny. We all need to believe we have both a future and a hope. They are inseparably linked. And when there is no future, there is no hope. Where there is no hope, there is no reason to live.
Martin Luther King, Jr. had a dream and he was killed for it. When we have no dream, it kills us. It is the same way with hope. Hope pulls us into the future. Yet as essential as hope is for life, we live in a world that seems determined to take it from us. Hope is rare and becoming rarer, but we don't need much of it to experience its power. We become filled with hope not because everything in the future is certain to us, but because the future itself is filled with promise.
At the same time, like the promise of the future, hope only comes from something we have not yet attained, something we do not yet have. In other words, how much we have presently in the world has little bearing on how much hope we have. The reality is that everything we have presently no longer qualifies as a conduit of hope, because once we have it, it falls out of the arena of hope.
Hope pulls us into the future because it comes from there. And while hope is connected to the future, it is impossible to live in the present without it. There is a simple reason for this. It is how God has designed us. Hope is the oxygen of the soul. We tend to take for granted the things that are the most obvious to us. Compare it to being worried about having enough money to pay our bills but never worrying about having enough air to breathe. In reality though, which one is more critical to life?
Sunday, August 21, 2011
My Miracle of Brokenness
My Miracle of Brokenness
A Most Incredible Week
By: Steven Ashley Currieo, M.D.
God has shown me this summer just a glimpse of what He longs to do throughout Christendom. He wants to reveal His presence and His glory to His people. He wants to fill our hearts and our homes, our churches and our ministries with His love and His Spirit. He wants to pour out His grace on the dry, thirsty ground of our lives. He wants to restore our "first love" for Jesus, to rekindle the fire of devotion that once burned brightly in our hearts, to reconcile broken or strained relationships, and to rebuild the parts of our lives that are in a state of disrepair. In short, He wants to revive our hearts. And it all begins with brokenness and humility. No exceptions. No shortcuts. No substitutes.
Until this past week, brokenness to me had been more of a theological concept. A concept that I had begun longing for several months ago, but it was still nothing more to me than a desirable concept. That is until last Sunday night. That is when everything began to change in my life. So much so that my very life's direction has been turned completely around.
I was nearly 80% of the way through a book I had picked up on brokenness at the local LifeWay bookstore near my office a couple of months ago [Brokenness: The Heart God Revives by Nancy Leigh DeMoss]. I had found it to be so meaningful and timely that I had also begun reading it with my daughter Alli … because, wouldn't you know, she needed to become more broken. Prideful people seem to have a way of seeing the unbrokenness of others.
I had completed the chapter highlighting the personality differences between a proud person and a broken person. Sadly I saw myself on the prideful side almost every time. Yet, I became almost proud that there were at least a few prideful traits that I didn't seem to struggle with. Good grief! It doesn't get much worse than the condition of my soul. There was no question in my mind that I had a problem. But there was still that prideful man inside of me who did not appear to be leaving anytime soon and he certainly wasn’t just willing to lie down and die. No it looked a lot more like he was going have to be killed if there was ever going to be life without him around. And I have learned in a very personal way that God is not above that.
Fast forward to Sunday morning June 22 at approximately 9:10 AM. I rushed into our kitchen after spending an hour at our future home site videotaping the guts of our new home [wires, plumbing, ductwork … just exactly where everything would be located once the drywall went up]. Only one thing, it took longer than I had expected and I was out of time if I was to be able to meet my family and arrive together at church on time. Keeping up appearances is a big deal in the life of the unbroken. So I had called ahead to my wife Janna to toast and butter a couple of bagels for me and to be sure that everyone would be ready to walk out the door within five minutes of my arrival at home. It is with those expectations that I burst through the kitchen door only to find the bagels had burned and that no one was ready to leave. I couldn't hide my exasperation and Janna felt it, though in a more subtle "Christian" manner. Sadly too, I later learned, did my spiritually insightful daughter Ashley. In fact, not much gets past Ashley … her spiritual antenna have seemingly always been innately radar-locked on the Holy Spirit's wavelength. If there's one thing Ashley gets, it's brokenness; always has and I'm fairly certain, always will.
She didn't appreciate the way her mother had been treated and though she said "nothing", she actually said "everything." In fact, I believe it was her silent prayer to our Heavenly Father that set into motion a chain of events that will forever change my life and the life of my family. Her simple request to God was that "my dad seems to want to become a broken man, but it's not happening God. Please make it happen for him."
Later that same night we attended a beautiful "koininia" dinner at our church where the people who had joined our fellowship over the past year were recognized and honored. In fact, it was Ashley and to a lesser extent Alli at whose insistence we even attended. They seem to love "potluck" food. Whoever heard of that? Something real to eat and not something from a drive thru. These are different children that I'm raising. Certainly far different than me at their ages. I had actually thought I was "too busy" to attend. The lot was an absolute mess and needed a thorough cleaning. And then there was still the upstairs to videotape. But in a rare moment of sensitivity I agreed to let my family attend. And we had a lovely time of fellowship with His body.
But time waits for no one and we had to rush back to finish the videotaping so Ariel could catch a cable TV movie that started at 8 PM. That would be one cable movie that went unwatched. After mere minutes at the home site, I became the victim of falling sheetrock in our upstairs game room that shattered my left ankle and nearly severed my foot. I was completely trapped beneath the stack of drywall and both Janna and Ariel were powerless to free me. God had my complete attention at last. Waves of the most immense pain imaginable, check that, unimaginable, coursed through my foot, ankle and leg. I can only describe this pain as if you could imagine a 6 inch diameter steel rod heated to nearly 2,000 degrees and then jammed up through my heel into my ankle and finally up through my lower leg to just below my knee in a recurring manner lasting seemingly between 5 to 15 seconds each time followed by maybe one to two minutes of just intense pain prior to the next paroxysm.
My foot lay six inches or so to the left of my leg connected only by a sock that seeped large quantities of blood. Little did I know at the time, but even then God was watching over me, because as I lay there helpless He allowed my life-giving arteries and power-supplying nerves to remain intact while virtually all else was no more than a twisted mesh of sinew.
Both Janna and Ariel were horrified to find me in such a state and after several minutes of futilely trying to free me they fanned out across the neighborhood in search of help. Help that at the time seemed slow to come and I finally felt and was all alone. Just me and God and all I could think of beside the pain was a verse my pastor Erik Braun had quoted that very same morning at our church (yes, I arrived in time to hear it) prior to a chorus that referenced it, "Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised." (Job 1:21)
It was hot up in that game room. So very, very hot! And then I was joined by Janna again. This time with the company of four beautiful future neighbors who quickly lifted those sheets of drywall off my leg. Janna and I promptly moved my leg to freedom. Somehow, the pain eased only slightly. And for the first time, I saw the extent of the damage looking down only to see the sole of my sneaker looking up at me and sitting aside my leg. The pain again quickly intensified. But all of those people and especially my precious wife Janna spoke nothing but encouragement to me. She said to me over and over, "Steve, it will be all right! Steve, it will be all right!" But my years of medical training had taught me when I saw what I had just beheld that there was great peril in my prognosis. And I told her in return, "No, Janna. This is bad! I can easily lose my foot" Nothing more. Nothing else needed to be said. She had already innately feared the worst.
EMS had been activated and would arrive within about 20 minutes. Once there I heard the voice of the paramedic sizing up the situation and then calling the TMH Emergency Department. Why did it have to take so long for the ER physician to come to the phone??? Didn't he know it was one of his own lying victim on the other side of that cell phone connection? Pride dies a slow death. And why after pleading with the paramedic did the ER physician decide to use morphine as my analgesic and not Demerol which is so much more effective for me? God has since shown me that this would be my first experience of relinquishing control. That control-freak inside of me had also to die. Someone else would be calling the shots now.
Once the IV was secured and a fluid expansion was begun the paramedic poured the morphine into my veins. First 5 mg and no response. Then another 5 mg and still no response. Lastly the final 5 mg I was allowed prior to boarding the ambulance and still not much response. Why did I know this was going to happen?
And then it was time for what I had most feared (for nearly an hour now). It was time to "set" my foot or to at least move it into some semblance of alignment with my leg. I couldn't be moved, secured to the back board, brought down the stairs, loaded into the truck or taken to the hospital until this horrific event had transpired. I can't begin to describe the agony of that moment when my foot came into a position within about 30 degrees of alignment with my leg. There are no words that approximate that moment. I am now listening God!
And finally it was time for them to turn their attention to getting me "secured" [medical speak for "hog-tied"] to that back board that would become my companion for the next two hours. Once secured, I was then transported head-first down a flight of stairs with a directional landing at midpoint and onto a gurney, into the ambulance and on to the hospital. And while en route I received those last 5 mg of morphine which in total likely reduced my pain by no more than 25% [and I'm being generous here].
Once in the new Bixler Emergency Department pain relief came within what now is a relatively short time of 15-20 minutes. But not before I was taken from one room in the ER to another room this time specializing in Trauma with a capital "T". The docs changed shifts and the doctor who ordered my morphine never really assumed my case. It, not surprisingly, looked to be somewhat lengthy and involved. I was able to convince Dr. Jurgaitis my new emergency physician that Demerol had previously been much more effective in reducing my pain than morphine back in 1991 when I had suffered a kidney stone (I have no idea why I am morphine resistant). I also can truthfully testify that kidney stones are NOT the most painful thing that can afflict a human. Thankfully, he agreed to allow my analgesic to be changed. Finally, 2-3 hours after it had begun, it at last began to get better. God you have my full attention now!
Lots of x-rays were taken. Of course, none were needed to know that I was a pre-op patient but they were more to ensure that no other previously undiagnosed injury had been sustained. Not that I hadn't told first the neighbors, then the paramedics and finally the ER crew the same story. Something about procedure and, no doubt, the medical malpractice liability climate in our state and country these days. When convinced that the "only" thing injured was my entire ankle complex it was time to turn the case over to Dr. David Bellamy. I had requested the Tallahassee Orthopedic Clinic physician on-call while still on the ambulance truck far away from the ER. I could have been placed in no finer hands than those of Dr. Bellamy's. As I was being readied for surgery he took time to counsel Janna as to just what we were up against here. She was hoping more for a pep talk from him, but Dr. Bellamy laid it right on the line. This was, indeed, a very risky time for me. He was relieved that I had already so informed Janna. He knew that I knew. We were all on the same page. Little did I know then though, but God had already turned the page.
It was now His time!!! God used Dr. Bellamy to set me straight. Piece by piece I came back together. Two and a half hours later it was finished. My anatomy was as good as it would probably get. Dr. Bellamy lamented about my posterior tibial tendon the other half of which was no where to be found. But enough searching for one night had been done. I spent about an hour in the recovery room and was finally headed to my hospital bed at about 2:30 A.M., just under seven hours following the accident. And thankfully, this time I was given Demerol for pain relief (there really is a God!) this time by PCA pump (patient-controlled analgesia). I sorely did long to be back in control again. And I greatly feared a return of the previous night's pain. But God would not leave me in control for long, and my pump was abruptly discontinued as no longer necessary twelve hours later. Again someone else deciding just what is necessary in my life. That's my new reality. God is in complete control.
I spoke at length with Dr. Bellamy when he made rounds Monday morning. I could sense a growing optimism building in him but I still had so far to go. There were many potential pitfalls staring me in the face; none bigger than a possible infection that would steal all the healing I had so far obtained. The fear being so great that I was placed on two intravenous antibiotics just to diminish the risk. He also spoke to me in detail regarding my injury technically known as a severely comminuted compound fracture-dislocation of the tibia and fibula (a.k.a trimalleolar fracture of the ankle). This in English means both lower leg bones had been crushed into pieces (12 for the fibula ... the lateral leg bone and 3 for the tibia the medial and larger leg bone). The tibia severely lacerated the medial side of my ankle (an 8 inch cut) with the bone protruding. My joint was completely disconnected and my foot lay beside my leg … but lest I forget, you already somehow knew this. He had pieced them together by and I quote "mushing" the three tibial pieces into a single unit and then securing them to the more proximal portion of bone by 3 screws aligned horizontally and each securing a fracture fragment to the tibia proper. He made a long vertical incision along the lateral aspect of my former ankle and by the aforementioned "mushing" technique squeezed those 12 pieces of distal fibula together and secured them to the more proximal fibula by 7 separate screws and a linear steel plate. One of these seven screws was 2-3 inches long and secured the fibula also to the tibia medially. Afterward it was a matter of copiously cleaning every piece of tissue and removing that which was too badly damaged to survive (which thankfully was amazingly few). There were tendons and ligaments to reconstruct. I was so grateful that he knew the ankle owner's manual and assembly diagram like the back of his "foot." When he had concluded his formal report to me he smiled and my spirit knew I was going to come out all right. He then recommended that I allow him to go back in and explore my joint surgically the following Wednesday night … if for no other reason than to wash it out thoroughly again to help prevent infection. But he wanted a glimpse at all that tissue which had been through so much trauma the day before … Would it live? If so, how much of it would survive? The dead and dying tissue would have to be debrided away. And likely there would be dead tissue. Finally, there was the issue of the posterior tibial tendon that had eluded him. He wanted one more crack at it, and why not? Without it, I would lose support on the bottom of my foot and also lose my arch. So I, too, was game.
God had supernaturally raised my spirits overnight and He had already begun a much deeper work in my soul that I was as yet unaware of. He had truly made me glad. Many people stopped by my room that day and over the next three. All somehow felt so sorry for me. But God wouldn't allow me to ever get down over this. It is truly inexplicable but I knew He was working. And I was beginning to not only just listen any longer but to actually begin to hear.
I felt palpably the prayers of the saints that ascended to the Heaven's throne on my behalf. Friends called, they prayed, they visited, they prayed, the sent flowers, they prayed, they sent cards, they prayed. I was finally on the receiving end after so many years on the giving side. It was literally a balm to my soul. And I kept growing more optimistic. God was somehow using this to break my pride and yet His Spirit sweetly encouraged me through those hours and He restored my soul and revived my heart in a way I've never before known. A major spiritual breakthrough was coming; I had begun to sense it. To yearn for it. To even begin to thirst for it. I was becoming fertile ground.
My employer, Capital Health Plan, was fabulous through it all, encouraging me to take as much time off as I needed. To not be in a hurry to come back. To not come back too soon like most doctors do. They were on my side all the way. What a beautiful place to work! They provided me with a wheelchair for home and crutches to use and secured the use of a scooter at work for as long as I may need it. I was again humbled to work for them. God is so good.
Janna remained at my side through it all speaking nothing but words of encouragement to me and joyfully helping me with all my bodily functions. She is such a godly woman and the finest friend a man could ever have. God was giving me a new appreciation for my lifetime partner … our relationship was being refreshed. This brokenness thing was spilling over into all parts of my life. It just kept getting better.
Alas, Wednesday night came and it was time for round two in the operating suite. God was still growing my optimism and I was becoming certain His healing for me would be complete with or even without my posterior tibial tendon. Three hours later I learned that indeed things looked extraordinarily well…almost better than one could reasonably expect. None of the tissue at risk was dead or dying. And that elusive tendon had been recaptured and then secured to it's missing piece. I would even get my arch back! God's work will be complete indeed.
Thursday was spent convincing my physical therapist that I was competent enough on crutches not to be a risk to undo all the healing that had occurred so far. And she wasn't necessarily easy to convince either. I spent an hour with her in the morning and about a half hour in the afternoon before she'd sign me off. Most people actually need two days of therapy. I just took the two a day approach harkening back to my football years. But I had to admit that I had no idea using one's arms as one's legs was as physically challenging as it actually is. Once I could safely navigate going up and downstairs there didn't seem to be any stopping me. And within a few hours I was finally released from the hospital.
The first stop was to pick up my prescriptions and then it was off to the home site. This time on Janna's terms. I could go by and look but I was not allowed to get out of the car. In my now growing humility I accepted this offer. How very uncharacteristic of me or at least my former self. She ran through the house looking for any major changes. The framers had not been back but the gas plumbers had. And the big cesspool lake that had stood beside our front porch had been drained and it was bricked ground to soffit. God had even been watching out on the home front for me. Spiritually I was soaring and I couldn't wait any longer to get home to my family.
That night brought sweet communion as a family with lots of love and sharing. But I could still sense the best was still yet to come. I was nearing my breakthrough but it had yet to become manifest. I also learned just how many things I would have to learn to do from scratch since I couldn't stand … especially this whole morning grooming thing. Showers were now out and I couldn't even begin to remember the last time I had taken a bath. There will be many of these between now and when I am no longer wearing a cast.
Saturday morning arrived and I could hardly wait for my quiet time. God would meet me this morning in a way I had never before known. I was broken in His presence for the first time in my life … reduced to tears of joy and overwhelming gratitude for the grace that flowed so freely through my life now. I was thankful for everything and poured out my soul begging God to renew everything in my life … my family, my relationship with each of my precious children, my relationship with Janna, to become the spiritual head she has so desperately wanted. I ached for our family to become spiritually unified where we were truly one for all and all for one. Where each child knew without question that inside the walls of our home that they were truly loved for just who they were and that our home would always be a sanctuary for them.
It was time to meet with each child one by one starting with Ashley. She already knew that her prayers had been answered and we wept and hugged together talking for nearly two hours. It was only then that she ever shared with any one that prayer she prayed that fateful Sunday morning a week before. All I could do was to hug and thank her repeatedly. It was all so very good!
Andrew and Ariel followed. Ariel is a lot like her big sister Ashley both of whom have been daddy's girls since toddlers. They already knew they were loved but they always like to hear it again. Andrew is the typical mess that 8 year old boys will be but he stirred my heart when he said "Daddy, you're my hero!" And then he would sign that to my permanent cast two days later.
Alli has taken a more wait and see attitude. She knows she's loved and I can see her resistance melting away day by day. She rarely rolls her eyes when we speak to her now and she seems to be coming around. She is enjoying all this new family time stuff I think, though she and Ashley have active lives away from the home as well. Alli, I think, is seeing the miracle of brokenness for the very first time. She knows this is not my nature and I am praying that what happened to me will become the desire of her heart for herself. She and Ashley are headed to the inner city of New Orleans at the end of the week for a week of ministry in a cross-cultural environment. I am praying God will open her spiritual eyes next week to a whole new dimension of life that she's never before known.
Janna, too, has been a little hesitant. Almost as if she's not wanting to get her hopes up too much. You see, she's been disappointed before. Over the last day or two, however, she too has come to believe that this time it is going to be different. This time it's a God-thing. Not something I am trying to do in the flesh. And I can see the joy building inside her. Her excitement level is growing. It, too, has been a good thing for her.
Church on Sunday morning was special. It was all I could do when our young student pastor Matt Schoolfield tried to convey to the crowd that Luke's whole message told through a series of historically verifiable "Bible stories" is that "Jesus is God!!! There is no other explanation." As he spoke those words, it was all I could do to refrain from crying out, "Well praise Him then people!!!" The spirit within me was finally tuned into the Holy Spirit's wavelength. Please no one ever touch that dial again!
After church one of the most godly and most broken men I have ever had the privilege of knowing, Tom Argersinger, came over to see me for the first time since "the accident" and he immediately sensed deep in his soul that God was doing something incredibly special in my life. He prayed for me for what must have been ten minutes with tears streaming out of both sets of our eyes and we agreed that this was truly a great thing! That God was in it, there was no question. And my mind then started to consider the possibilities of the lives that may be touched through my experience. Just why maybe you are holding this very story in your very hands right at this minute. Waves spreading across the pond from my point of brokenness. If lives can be changed from my experience, then it is surely worth what little pain I experienced for the greater good of advancing God's kingdom in the hearts of men. This is what life is all about really. And it is a great thing!
I was so eager to go back to see Dr. Bellamy at the Tallahassee Orthopedic Clinic on Monday afternoon that I could hardly contain myself. As the splint and bandages were removed I was able to see my physical wounds up close and personal for the first time. The wounds are long but they are beautiful. There is still no infection. My x-rays look excellent. My healing is ahead of schedule. God is restoring me physically to match my spiritual restoration. He is so very good to me!
I had to make one last trip to the home site yesterday afternoon for my psychological healing. To trudge up those stairs with my crutches, into that stifling heat and to see the site of my injury. The drywall still lays fallen where it landed. There is still some of my blood on that floor and on the adjacent sheetrock. But I can truly look at that place as the site of God's greatest miracle in my life and not as a source of post-traumatic stress disorder flashbacks. God has given me victory over fear and anxiety. He has drawn me into His bosom and is nurturing my soul. I long for my quiet times with Him each day. Before this they were mostly a daily chore that needed to be checked off and often went undone. I find myself spontaneously praising Him throughout the day and I pray more for others now than I have ever done before. Someone's name or face flashes into my mind and the next thing I know I'm praying for them almost reflexively. It's all good. It has all been so very good! So please don't grieve for my injury. I'm in the palm of His hand. And I've never felt better. The most amazing thing is that this can happen for you too and for everyone you know. It happens when the idea of brokenness stops being just a theological concept and becomes, instead, a state of spiritual being.
I believe a return to this truth -- the need for brokenness and humility -- is the starting place for experiencing the revival we that we so desperately need in our lives, our homes and our churches. This is not a new truth. As I see it, brokenness is a timeless principle that runs like a thread throughout all of God's Word. It is the only way you and I can draw near to a holy God. It is God's prescription for nearly every condition that ails human hearts and relationships. Loneliness, fear, sinful bondages, fragmented relationships, communication barriers, generation gaps, unresolved conflicts, guilt, shame, self-absorption, addictions, hypocrisy, and at times even shyness -- all these issues and more have at their very root, pride. But they can crumble through genuine brokenness and humility.
Do you need a fresh infusion of the grace of God in your life? Do you long to experience the abundant life, to live in the realm of the supernatural, and to enjoy the free flow of God's Spirit in your life? Do you want to be set free from those selfish, sinful patterns that plague your walk and poison your relationships? Do you want to find fullness of joy? Does your heart need to be revived? This whole vision is a challenge to embrace a radically new way of thinking and living, in which the way up is down, where death brings life and where brokenness is the pathway to wholeness.
G - A - F - (octave lower) F - C
G - A - F - [octave lower] F - C ... G - A - F - [octave lower] - F - C ... G - A - F - [octave lower] F - C.
For Roy Neary [played by Richard Dreyfuss] in Close Encounters of the Third Kind those notes just kept playing like a bad song [think It's a Small World After All when leaving Disney World] over and over in his head. He couldn't shake it. It became his destiny ... it was both a mystical and maddening experience. His journey cost him everything -- it caused him his job, alienated him from his family, and drove him to the brink of losing his mind. He was haunted by a vision that he could not bring into focus. There was no shortage of clues, in fact, they were everywhere; but he just could not seem to make sense of any of them.
Clearly he was being called. He had been chosen. Five notes riddled with meaning in what seemed to be a cosmic game of Name That Tune. There was somewhere he was supposed to go, something he was supposed to do. He just didn't know what it was. But to ignore it was not an option.
I remember being a senior in high school in the fall of 1977 when I first saw the movie. It haunted me then and it still haunts me today. Thinking we are not alone. What would I do if I were in Roy's position? How much would I be willing to sacrifice to follow my destiny? I can't remember how many times I have seen this movie in the intervening 34 years [there have been several] but I do remember the last time. I had almost finished reading a book called Brokenness: The Heart God Revives by Nancy Leigh DeMoss and had just completed the chapter highlighting the personality differences between a proud person and a broken person. Sadly, I had seen myself on the prideful side at almost every turn. Yet, ironically, I had even become proud that there were at least a few prideful traits that I didn't seem to struggle with.
It didn't get much worse than the condition of my soul that fateful day of June 22, 2003. After abusing my family [Janna for burning the bagels and the kids for not being ready for church] that morning, I had rushed back to our home under construction following a church pot luck to finish my videotaping of the in-wall wiring. It was then that I truly started my pathway to brokenness as 1300 lbs of drywall came crashing down on my left leg crushing my ankle [80+ fractures] and virtually severing my foot off [it lay dangling upside down six inches lateral to my lower leg]. There is a very long story that summarizes just how God used that experience that I will post after this for those who are interested.
Following two surgeries [and a true miracle of restoration] I was discharged from the hospital the following Friday [five days later]. That night we rented Close Encounters for the last time [not that I'll never see it again]. I saw it with quite different eyes that time ... the eyes of one who had been broken before the Lord. He obviously was using this experience for His glory ... it was my job to discover how and to be obedient to what He asked of me ... even if it didn't make sense at the time. Part of that obedience included writing the testimony that follows that I entitled My Miracle of Brokenness. I have no doubt the Lord inspired me to write it ... because whenever He inspires me to write, He wakes me up from a dead sleep and I can't stop typing until it is finished. This time was no different. But how this would be used ended up being very different.
I thought I wrote this just as a testimony to the patients I would see in the office who would ask "What happened to you?" and somehow I was supposed to tell them of my miracle and also deal with whatever issues they were seeking care for in a fifteen minute appointment. There was simply no way that would work. So I had 500 copies of the story printed at Kinko's to have my nurse hand out when she checked the patient in and thinking they'd likely have time to read it before I came in and they could just ask questions. Nevertheless, I had failed to realize that my employer would have a problem with this. My boss asked me to stop giving these out after just a week ... probably no more than 115 or so had been given. I was disappointed ... but in God's economy the seed was sown. I began to get e-mails from all over the country and eventually all over the world from people who had read my testimony and had been "laying on that floor in pain" with me in some very different experience in their lives. They had all been broken. Patients would photocopy the story and share them with their friends. It would be scanned into people's computers and then the files would be forwarded by e-mail to their friends and then their friends and then their friends.
Someone took it down to a major Southern Baptist Convention meeting in Orlando the next week and started giving it out to people attending that conference. It got so widespread that one of the speakers preached on it during the fourth day of the convention. Everyone left the convention with a copy. A few weeks later, my college alma mater, Oral Roberts University, called and wanted to include it in their alumni magazine which I consented to. The testimonies pouring in were incredible. God was doing amazing things in the lives of so many people [all because I was stupid enough to move the sheetrock].
And strangers would come up to me all over town and ask ... "Are you a doctor? Did you have sheetrock fall on your leg?" Then when I said yes, they would start weeping and break into stories of what God had done in their lives when they heard my story. One lady came up to me [Janna was with me this time] at Lowe's when we were selecting a front door for our home and asked "Are you a doctor? Did you have sheetrock fall on your leg?" [is this what happens when one is on crutches???] and then began weeping, saying God had healed her of terminal breast cancer as she read my story. She had been there on that floor. She had failed surgery, radiation and two different courses of chemotherapy and had recently been put in hospice as there was nothing else that could be done. She was beside herself with joy as she told about returning to her oncologist telling him that she had been healed. Of course, he thought she was crazy but surprisingly he indulged her request to be rescanned. Amazingly all her tumors were gone ... from the chest wall and axilla, from the lungs and the brain. He had no explanation. Our God is an incredible God who does what He wills. And somehow He chooses to use us. We just have to be available ... to follow our destinies.
All of us are called to places we have not known. Our lives were always intended to be journeys into the unknown. The invitation is both personal and mystical. No one else may fully understand what we have been called to. We ourselves may not even fully understand. The paths we must walk may appear to others as strange and unreasonable, but we know there is more going on than meets the eye.
When I began my search for God in earnest as a freshman at Oklahoma State University, He opened my eyes, my mind, my imagination to a future I never could have dreamed of. I began to see what life could be if I would read the signs and choose this great quest. God calls us out of the lives we have known and calls us to lives that we could have never imagined.
The signs are all around us, but even more, the signs are all within us. Our souls are being pulled forward. We are being called to a God whose voice our ears have likely never heard. We are having visions of a life we could not possibly create alone. We are to no longer be satisfied with where we are, but to join a quest for where we do not know. We will never be satisfied with less.
For Roy Neary [played by Richard Dreyfuss] in Close Encounters of the Third Kind those notes just kept playing like a bad song [think It's a Small World After All when leaving Disney World] over and over in his head. He couldn't shake it. It became his destiny ... it was both a mystical and maddening experience. His journey cost him everything -- it caused him his job, alienated him from his family, and drove him to the brink of losing his mind. He was haunted by a vision that he could not bring into focus. There was no shortage of clues, in fact, they were everywhere; but he just could not seem to make sense of any of them.
Clearly he was being called. He had been chosen. Five notes riddled with meaning in what seemed to be a cosmic game of Name That Tune. There was somewhere he was supposed to go, something he was supposed to do. He just didn't know what it was. But to ignore it was not an option.
I remember being a senior in high school in the fall of 1977 when I first saw the movie. It haunted me then and it still haunts me today. Thinking we are not alone. What would I do if I were in Roy's position? How much would I be willing to sacrifice to follow my destiny? I can't remember how many times I have seen this movie in the intervening 34 years [there have been several] but I do remember the last time. I had almost finished reading a book called Brokenness: The Heart God Revives by Nancy Leigh DeMoss and had just completed the chapter highlighting the personality differences between a proud person and a broken person. Sadly, I had seen myself on the prideful side at almost every turn. Yet, ironically, I had even become proud that there were at least a few prideful traits that I didn't seem to struggle with.
It didn't get much worse than the condition of my soul that fateful day of June 22, 2003. After abusing my family [Janna for burning the bagels and the kids for not being ready for church] that morning, I had rushed back to our home under construction following a church pot luck to finish my videotaping of the in-wall wiring. It was then that I truly started my pathway to brokenness as 1300 lbs of drywall came crashing down on my left leg crushing my ankle [80+ fractures] and virtually severing my foot off [it lay dangling upside down six inches lateral to my lower leg]. There is a very long story that summarizes just how God used that experience that I will post after this for those who are interested.
Following two surgeries [and a true miracle of restoration] I was discharged from the hospital the following Friday [five days later]. That night we rented Close Encounters for the last time [not that I'll never see it again]. I saw it with quite different eyes that time ... the eyes of one who had been broken before the Lord. He obviously was using this experience for His glory ... it was my job to discover how and to be obedient to what He asked of me ... even if it didn't make sense at the time. Part of that obedience included writing the testimony that follows that I entitled My Miracle of Brokenness. I have no doubt the Lord inspired me to write it ... because whenever He inspires me to write, He wakes me up from a dead sleep and I can't stop typing until it is finished. This time was no different. But how this would be used ended up being very different.
I thought I wrote this just as a testimony to the patients I would see in the office who would ask "What happened to you?" and somehow I was supposed to tell them of my miracle and also deal with whatever issues they were seeking care for in a fifteen minute appointment. There was simply no way that would work. So I had 500 copies of the story printed at Kinko's to have my nurse hand out when she checked the patient in and thinking they'd likely have time to read it before I came in and they could just ask questions. Nevertheless, I had failed to realize that my employer would have a problem with this. My boss asked me to stop giving these out after just a week ... probably no more than 115 or so had been given. I was disappointed ... but in God's economy the seed was sown. I began to get e-mails from all over the country and eventually all over the world from people who had read my testimony and had been "laying on that floor in pain" with me in some very different experience in their lives. They had all been broken. Patients would photocopy the story and share them with their friends. It would be scanned into people's computers and then the files would be forwarded by e-mail to their friends and then their friends and then their friends.
Someone took it down to a major Southern Baptist Convention meeting in Orlando the next week and started giving it out to people attending that conference. It got so widespread that one of the speakers preached on it during the fourth day of the convention. Everyone left the convention with a copy. A few weeks later, my college alma mater, Oral Roberts University, called and wanted to include it in their alumni magazine which I consented to. The testimonies pouring in were incredible. God was doing amazing things in the lives of so many people [all because I was stupid enough to move the sheetrock].
And strangers would come up to me all over town and ask ... "Are you a doctor? Did you have sheetrock fall on your leg?" Then when I said yes, they would start weeping and break into stories of what God had done in their lives when they heard my story. One lady came up to me [Janna was with me this time] at Lowe's when we were selecting a front door for our home and asked "Are you a doctor? Did you have sheetrock fall on your leg?" [is this what happens when one is on crutches???] and then began weeping, saying God had healed her of terminal breast cancer as she read my story. She had been there on that floor. She had failed surgery, radiation and two different courses of chemotherapy and had recently been put in hospice as there was nothing else that could be done. She was beside herself with joy as she told about returning to her oncologist telling him that she had been healed. Of course, he thought she was crazy but surprisingly he indulged her request to be rescanned. Amazingly all her tumors were gone ... from the chest wall and axilla, from the lungs and the brain. He had no explanation. Our God is an incredible God who does what He wills. And somehow He chooses to use us. We just have to be available ... to follow our destinies.
All of us are called to places we have not known. Our lives were always intended to be journeys into the unknown. The invitation is both personal and mystical. No one else may fully understand what we have been called to. We ourselves may not even fully understand. The paths we must walk may appear to others as strange and unreasonable, but we know there is more going on than meets the eye.
When I began my search for God in earnest as a freshman at Oklahoma State University, He opened my eyes, my mind, my imagination to a future I never could have dreamed of. I began to see what life could be if I would read the signs and choose this great quest. God calls us out of the lives we have known and calls us to lives that we could have never imagined.
The signs are all around us, but even more, the signs are all within us. Our souls are being pulled forward. We are being called to a God whose voice our ears have likely never heard. We are having visions of a life we could not possibly create alone. We are to no longer be satisfied with where we are, but to join a quest for where we do not know. We will never be satisfied with less.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Better to "Do Right" than to "Be Right"
"He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." Micah 6:8
It was at our semi-annual Elder's Retreat tonight as my fellow elder [and a man whom I genuinely admire greatly] Kent Hamilton prayed that "God would help us do what is right" that the Holy Spirit showed me, like a lightening flash, that I am far more concerned with "being right" than I am in "doing right" as Kent prayed. Then He flashed this verse of Scripture across my mind.
Why does it matter? Why wouldn't it matter? Doing right is commanded by the Lord in the phrases "to act justly and to love mercy" whereas having to "be right" [i.e. prideful] is commanded against by God as He instead insists that we "walk humbly with our God." The distinction may or may not be subtle but the effects of one v. the other brings life v. death to our souls.
I find the sin of pride to be all too insidious. It is like a vapor that expands to fill whatever space it is allowed in my heart. Rooting it out is virtually a full time job. And what is there in my life to be "proud of" anyway? God has been the source of all the blessings I have and has far too many times saved me from myself. Yet somehow I too often act like I have all the answers.
This has been a horrific week in the lives of some of my dearest brothers and sisters in Christ as I have watched powerlessly as two marriages in our church body went down in flames [culminating ironically on the same day ... Wednesday]. I had been involved in both marriages off and on over the past three years trying to help them come to reconciliation and in one of those cases almost on a daily basis over the past month. It has been a painful thing to walk through [especially as one of the men involved had also been on my "Most Admired List" for many years and yet I've been reminded by the Holy Spirit that it could have all to easily have been me. Only God's grace has sustained Janna's and my marriage over the past 28.7 years. Why has my marriage been saved and these others lost? I wish I knew. But I am grateful and I vow to do the things God has called me to ... such as to act justly [do what is right] and love mercy and walk humbly with Him. And to sorely try to not care so much about "being right."
It was at our semi-annual Elder's Retreat tonight as my fellow elder [and a man whom I genuinely admire greatly] Kent Hamilton prayed that "God would help us do what is right" that the Holy Spirit showed me, like a lightening flash, that I am far more concerned with "being right" than I am in "doing right" as Kent prayed. Then He flashed this verse of Scripture across my mind.
Why does it matter? Why wouldn't it matter? Doing right is commanded by the Lord in the phrases "to act justly and to love mercy" whereas having to "be right" [i.e. prideful] is commanded against by God as He instead insists that we "walk humbly with our God." The distinction may or may not be subtle but the effects of one v. the other brings life v. death to our souls.
I find the sin of pride to be all too insidious. It is like a vapor that expands to fill whatever space it is allowed in my heart. Rooting it out is virtually a full time job. And what is there in my life to be "proud of" anyway? God has been the source of all the blessings I have and has far too many times saved me from myself. Yet somehow I too often act like I have all the answers.
This has been a horrific week in the lives of some of my dearest brothers and sisters in Christ as I have watched powerlessly as two marriages in our church body went down in flames [culminating ironically on the same day ... Wednesday]. I had been involved in both marriages off and on over the past three years trying to help them come to reconciliation and in one of those cases almost on a daily basis over the past month. It has been a painful thing to walk through [especially as one of the men involved had also been on my "Most Admired List" for many years and yet I've been reminded by the Holy Spirit that it could have all to easily have been me. Only God's grace has sustained Janna's and my marriage over the past 28.7 years. Why has my marriage been saved and these others lost? I wish I knew. But I am grateful and I vow to do the things God has called me to ... such as to act justly [do what is right] and love mercy and walk humbly with Him. And to sorely try to not care so much about "being right."
Thursday, August 18, 2011
The Secret of Ambition
Somewhere down the road of life, many of us either lose our ambition or, worse yet, come to believe that ambition is a bad thing. Some even go so far as to believe that if we are going to be truly spiritual, we have to free ourselves from all ambition [I know this is a core tenet of Buddhism as just one example]. The tragedy, of course, is that this is completely untrue. Not only is ambition a good thing, it is also a God thing! It is actually God Himself who has placed within each of us the amazing fuel of ambition.
Another Michael W. Smith song comes to mind here:
Nobody understood His secret ambition
Nobody knew His claim to fame
He broke the old rules steeped in tradition
He tore the Holy Veil away.
Questioning those in powerful positions
Running to those who called His name
(But) Nobody knew His secret ambition
Was to give His life away.
Talk about someone with ambition! It was no one other Jesus Christ who sought to single-handedly save mankind ... even if His was a "secret [too often misunderstood] ambition." And to a lesser degree this is true of us as well. We cannot live the life God created for us to live without being ambitious. The very reason our hearts leap within us when we see greatness is that our spirits are drawn to it. Our spirits resonate with greatness when we witness it on the playing field, in the theater, in our leaders, or in virtually any field of endeavor when someone truly becomes the best there is at what they do.
And though many of us have come to mistakenly believe that ambition is unhealthy, the truth of the matter is that when we lose our ambition, we lose our futures. And when we lose our futures, we lose our hope. And no one can live well without hope. When we let our dreams die, we begin dying with them.
Every human being has a need for progress. This is not accidental. God created each of us with an intrinsic need to become. We are connected not only to our pasts and presents, but also to our futures. There is a reason why we have a sense of destiny. It was placed there by God and He woos us to pursue it. The point here is not about what it is that we strive for but the very fact that we strive.
Have you noticed that those with great ambitions have a disproportionate effect on the future? The future is not simply entered into; it is created. To create we must first dream, then act. The future does not happen by accident; it happens through active engagement. Too many of us have missed this point. We have allowed history to be shaped by those who are distant from God and hostile toward people.
Evil never seeks permission. Tyrants never consider the appropriateness of their actions. One of the great tragedies of human history is that while those who are motivated by greed, power and violence have forged the future of their liking, too many of us who long for a better world have sat passively by, watching and wishing the world could be different, thinking it is God's job to fix everything. Sincere people have deferred their responsibility while waiting on God to do something, which creates a spirituality lacking both initiative and engagement. This goes against the nature of the human spirit, and it goes against the way God has created us. Some might actually conclude that God Himself is apathetic and indifferent just because we are.
God, however, created us to engage, to solve problems, to meet needs, to do something with our lives. He made us to get involved and He expects us to act. That's why someone like Mother Teresa helps us believe in God. Human compassion both reflects God and moves us toward God.
Did I mention that the future doesn't happen by accident? We were created to believe in progress and to pursue it with passion. It is God who designed us this way. He made us creative and He holds us responsible.
Another Michael W. Smith song comes to mind here:
Nobody understood His secret ambition
Nobody knew His claim to fame
He broke the old rules steeped in tradition
He tore the Holy Veil away.
Questioning those in powerful positions
Running to those who called His name
(But) Nobody knew His secret ambition
Was to give His life away.
Talk about someone with ambition! It was no one other Jesus Christ who sought to single-handedly save mankind ... even if His was a "secret [too often misunderstood] ambition." And to a lesser degree this is true of us as well. We cannot live the life God created for us to live without being ambitious. The very reason our hearts leap within us when we see greatness is that our spirits are drawn to it. Our spirits resonate with greatness when we witness it on the playing field, in the theater, in our leaders, or in virtually any field of endeavor when someone truly becomes the best there is at what they do.
And though many of us have come to mistakenly believe that ambition is unhealthy, the truth of the matter is that when we lose our ambition, we lose our futures. And when we lose our futures, we lose our hope. And no one can live well without hope. When we let our dreams die, we begin dying with them.
Every human being has a need for progress. This is not accidental. God created each of us with an intrinsic need to become. We are connected not only to our pasts and presents, but also to our futures. There is a reason why we have a sense of destiny. It was placed there by God and He woos us to pursue it. The point here is not about what it is that we strive for but the very fact that we strive.
Have you noticed that those with great ambitions have a disproportionate effect on the future? The future is not simply entered into; it is created. To create we must first dream, then act. The future does not happen by accident; it happens through active engagement. Too many of us have missed this point. We have allowed history to be shaped by those who are distant from God and hostile toward people.
Evil never seeks permission. Tyrants never consider the appropriateness of their actions. One of the great tragedies of human history is that while those who are motivated by greed, power and violence have forged the future of their liking, too many of us who long for a better world have sat passively by, watching and wishing the world could be different, thinking it is God's job to fix everything. Sincere people have deferred their responsibility while waiting on God to do something, which creates a spirituality lacking both initiative and engagement. This goes against the nature of the human spirit, and it goes against the way God has created us. Some might actually conclude that God Himself is apathetic and indifferent just because we are.
God, however, created us to engage, to solve problems, to meet needs, to do something with our lives. He made us to get involved and He expects us to act. That's why someone like Mother Teresa helps us believe in God. Human compassion both reflects God and moves us toward God.
Did I mention that the future doesn't happen by accident? We were created to believe in progress and to pursue it with passion. It is God who designed us this way. He made us creative and He holds us responsible.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
To Shepherd the Flock of God
"So I exhort the elders among you, as a fellow elder and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, as well as a partaker in the glory that is going to be revealed: shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight, not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you; not for shameful gain, but eagerly; not domineering over those in your charge, but being examples to the flock. And when the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory. Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for 'God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.'" 1 Peter 5:1-5
After reading and pondering the above verses I think the first question that comes to mind is "what does it mean to shepherd the flock of God?" Obviously, this has been a recurring question in my life as I complete my fourth year in the role this fall for my church in Tallahassee. It was certainly a great honor to be chosen for this role and most humbling as no one is more aware of my inadequacies for the position than I am ... except for God Himself. He seems to have a thing for choosing those who are inadequate so there is hope for those like me. I have loved the camaraderie of serving alongside men I've greatly admired for many years and I have loved the challenge of seeking God's will for our body jointly with them.
Then there comes the much more difficult and demanding task of "shepherding." It is no coincidence that the Holy Spirit selected this metaphor for describing our task as it was the same metaphor Jesus Himself used many times. And this is where the nitty gritty of the job is most apparent. Dealing with the sin in the lives of my brothers and sisters and trying to win them back for the kingdom is a daunting task ... especially because, unlike the life of our Savior, we each have sin in our own lives. So humility and grace are necessary prerequisites for our effectiveness. When, however, one of His sheep repents and "comes home" the joy is indescribable. But then we must be always on guard for it remains the domain of the Holy Spirit to convict of sin and change hearts ... it is not something we do ourselves lest we become prideful. But for God to actually use us despite our inadequacies is quite humbling. Yet before we can celebrate our victories too long, there always seems to be another sheep that has subsequently escaped the fold. So the task chronically repeats itself and likely will till the "chief Shepherd" appears as Peter relates. Lastly and most sadly, not all the sheep come home. And thus the shepherd's heart is often pierced with grief.
So getting back to the text above .... what does it really mean to "shepherd the flock of God?" This is a beneficial question for all of us. Those who are elders need to know. Those who aspire to become elders must know. And, just as importantly, those in the body need to know as they are the ones who choose the leaders who serve over them. Sometimes it can be most helpful to learn by way of contrast. And it was the prophet Ezekiel who painted the best contrasting picture of just what elders should not look like.
Ezekiel described the elders of his day as abysmal shepherds. In a vision, he bored a hold into the house of God and saw men committing 'vile abominations' [Ezekiel 8:9]. While there, the angelic guide said to him: "Son of man, have you seen what the elders of the house of Israel are doing in the dark, each in his room of pictures? For they say, 'The Lord does not see us, the Lord has forsaken the land.'" [Ezekiel 8:12]
Later God said to Ezekiel: "Son of man, prophesy against the shepherds of Israel ... Ah, shepherds of Israel who have been feeding yourselves! Should not shepherds feed the sheep? You eat the fat, clothe yourselves with the wool, you slaughter the fat ones, but you do not feed the sheep. The weak you have not strengthened, the sick you have not healed, the injured you have not bound up, the strayed you have not brought back, the lost you have not sought, and with force and harshness you have ruled them." [Ezekiel 34:1-4]
Elders who faithfully shepherd God's people will be different from the elders of Ezekiel's day. They will be men of godly character. They will be in the dark what they profess to be in the light. They will not be selfish. They will seek out the weak. They will visit the sick and bind up the spiritually injured. They will be concerned to bring back any who stray from the faith. They will seek out the lost. They will rule with gentleness and grace.
And yet the list, even to the one who is faithful, appears overwhelming. Really, who can be all these things for God's people? For this reason God told Ezekiel: "I myself will search for my sheep and will seek them out. As a shepherd seeks out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so will I seek out my sheep. ... And I will feed them on the mountains. ... And I will set up over them one shepherd, my servant David, and he shall feed them: he shall feed them and be their shepherd." [Ezekiel 34:11-13, 23]
Jesus is God's shepherd. We see this in v. 4 where Peter refers to him as the 'chief Shepherd.' Let us all remember this great fact: Jesus alone fulfills the Word of God, given through Ezekiel's charge, to gather God's flock on the mountains and feed them. It was this one, Jesus of Nazareth, who not only fed 5,000 people on the mountainside but also fed them God's Word.
We can only imagine the richness that this term shepherd had for Peter. We can remember Peter's early confidence ... no one felt more qualified to lead than he and no one was more gifted to lead, but when it counted most, he denied Christ three times. After the resurrection, Jesus asked him three times if he loved him, and Peter responded, "Yes Lord, you know that I love you" [John 21:15-17]. Interestingly, each time Jesus spoke, he wooed Peter with the imagery of a shepherd and his flock. He said to him, "Feed my lambs ... Tend my sheep ... Feed my sheep."
We should all take great encouragement from this -- on the day Peter didn't feel at all able to lead, God restored him, call him, and made him fit for the office. And he will equip men for the same office today. God will continue to raise up qualified men to shepherd his flock. And like Peter, these men will express their love for Christ by extending themselves in love to God's people.
Just as we looked at the role of elders by way of contrast, Peter also explains by way of contrast their readiness to serve. He employs three negatives followed by three affirmations in the space of two verses.
Shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight
Not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you;
Not for shameful gain, but eagerly;
Not domineering over those in our charge, but being examples to the flock.
The church is not helped when her leaders' readiness falls into the pit of begrudging service. Men who serve only from a sense of duty will not have the requisite love necessary for God's people to flourish. Biblical elders need to do the right thing, even when they don't feel like it, but elders who are governed merely by duty and not love are falling short of serving God as He would have them.
Today, as in Peter's day, far too many teachers and preachers of God's Word are in it for the money. In the end, those who exercise leadership in the church for financial gain pervert the truth and peddle God's free gift of true grace. Elders must be eager to teach but not eager for cash.
The last pitfall of leadership is the misuse of power. The axiom that 'absolute power corrupts absolutely' has long stood the test of time. We see it in politics. We see it in business. But according to both Jesus and then Peter, we should never see it in the church. Those men who exercise the office of elder must always remember that the misuse of their power only impairs the church. Instead, elders ought to go beyond the call of duty in proving themselves as examples to the flock. We are to emulate Jesus, who came to serve and not to be served [see Mark 10:45]. Both humility and sacrificial service are the hallmarks of godly leadership.
So what then is the motivation for one to serve in the office of elder then? We read above what it is not ... not duty, not avarice, not for power ... but proper motivation does, in fact, exist as Peter writes in v. 4: "And when the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory." So we learn that elders do labor for a reward -- one that will be given to them on the day of Christ's return. The prize of 'the unfading crown of glory' comes in the next life, not this one. This reward, though delayed, will certainly be worth the labor -- a crown of glory. So we run this race with patience. The day is all too fast approaching when we will dwell on high with the chief Shepherd. And when He comes, He most certainly will bring His reward with Him.
After reading and pondering the above verses I think the first question that comes to mind is "what does it mean to shepherd the flock of God?" Obviously, this has been a recurring question in my life as I complete my fourth year in the role this fall for my church in Tallahassee. It was certainly a great honor to be chosen for this role and most humbling as no one is more aware of my inadequacies for the position than I am ... except for God Himself. He seems to have a thing for choosing those who are inadequate so there is hope for those like me. I have loved the camaraderie of serving alongside men I've greatly admired for many years and I have loved the challenge of seeking God's will for our body jointly with them.
Then there comes the much more difficult and demanding task of "shepherding." It is no coincidence that the Holy Spirit selected this metaphor for describing our task as it was the same metaphor Jesus Himself used many times. And this is where the nitty gritty of the job is most apparent. Dealing with the sin in the lives of my brothers and sisters and trying to win them back for the kingdom is a daunting task ... especially because, unlike the life of our Savior, we each have sin in our own lives. So humility and grace are necessary prerequisites for our effectiveness. When, however, one of His sheep repents and "comes home" the joy is indescribable. But then we must be always on guard for it remains the domain of the Holy Spirit to convict of sin and change hearts ... it is not something we do ourselves lest we become prideful. But for God to actually use us despite our inadequacies is quite humbling. Yet before we can celebrate our victories too long, there always seems to be another sheep that has subsequently escaped the fold. So the task chronically repeats itself and likely will till the "chief Shepherd" appears as Peter relates. Lastly and most sadly, not all the sheep come home. And thus the shepherd's heart is often pierced with grief.
So getting back to the text above .... what does it really mean to "shepherd the flock of God?" This is a beneficial question for all of us. Those who are elders need to know. Those who aspire to become elders must know. And, just as importantly, those in the body need to know as they are the ones who choose the leaders who serve over them. Sometimes it can be most helpful to learn by way of contrast. And it was the prophet Ezekiel who painted the best contrasting picture of just what elders should not look like.
Ezekiel described the elders of his day as abysmal shepherds. In a vision, he bored a hold into the house of God and saw men committing 'vile abominations' [Ezekiel 8:9]. While there, the angelic guide said to him: "Son of man, have you seen what the elders of the house of Israel are doing in the dark, each in his room of pictures? For they say, 'The Lord does not see us, the Lord has forsaken the land.'" [Ezekiel 8:12]
Later God said to Ezekiel: "Son of man, prophesy against the shepherds of Israel ... Ah, shepherds of Israel who have been feeding yourselves! Should not shepherds feed the sheep? You eat the fat, clothe yourselves with the wool, you slaughter the fat ones, but you do not feed the sheep. The weak you have not strengthened, the sick you have not healed, the injured you have not bound up, the strayed you have not brought back, the lost you have not sought, and with force and harshness you have ruled them." [Ezekiel 34:1-4]
Elders who faithfully shepherd God's people will be different from the elders of Ezekiel's day. They will be men of godly character. They will be in the dark what they profess to be in the light. They will not be selfish. They will seek out the weak. They will visit the sick and bind up the spiritually injured. They will be concerned to bring back any who stray from the faith. They will seek out the lost. They will rule with gentleness and grace.
And yet the list, even to the one who is faithful, appears overwhelming. Really, who can be all these things for God's people? For this reason God told Ezekiel: "I myself will search for my sheep and will seek them out. As a shepherd seeks out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so will I seek out my sheep. ... And I will feed them on the mountains. ... And I will set up over them one shepherd, my servant David, and he shall feed them: he shall feed them and be their shepherd." [Ezekiel 34:11-13, 23]
Jesus is God's shepherd. We see this in v. 4 where Peter refers to him as the 'chief Shepherd.' Let us all remember this great fact: Jesus alone fulfills the Word of God, given through Ezekiel's charge, to gather God's flock on the mountains and feed them. It was this one, Jesus of Nazareth, who not only fed 5,000 people on the mountainside but also fed them God's Word.
We can only imagine the richness that this term shepherd had for Peter. We can remember Peter's early confidence ... no one felt more qualified to lead than he and no one was more gifted to lead, but when it counted most, he denied Christ three times. After the resurrection, Jesus asked him three times if he loved him, and Peter responded, "Yes Lord, you know that I love you" [John 21:15-17]. Interestingly, each time Jesus spoke, he wooed Peter with the imagery of a shepherd and his flock. He said to him, "Feed my lambs ... Tend my sheep ... Feed my sheep."
We should all take great encouragement from this -- on the day Peter didn't feel at all able to lead, God restored him, call him, and made him fit for the office. And he will equip men for the same office today. God will continue to raise up qualified men to shepherd his flock. And like Peter, these men will express their love for Christ by extending themselves in love to God's people.
Just as we looked at the role of elders by way of contrast, Peter also explains by way of contrast their readiness to serve. He employs three negatives followed by three affirmations in the space of two verses.
Shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight
Not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you;
Not for shameful gain, but eagerly;
Not domineering over those in our charge, but being examples to the flock.
The church is not helped when her leaders' readiness falls into the pit of begrudging service. Men who serve only from a sense of duty will not have the requisite love necessary for God's people to flourish. Biblical elders need to do the right thing, even when they don't feel like it, but elders who are governed merely by duty and not love are falling short of serving God as He would have them.
Today, as in Peter's day, far too many teachers and preachers of God's Word are in it for the money. In the end, those who exercise leadership in the church for financial gain pervert the truth and peddle God's free gift of true grace. Elders must be eager to teach but not eager for cash.
The last pitfall of leadership is the misuse of power. The axiom that 'absolute power corrupts absolutely' has long stood the test of time. We see it in politics. We see it in business. But according to both Jesus and then Peter, we should never see it in the church. Those men who exercise the office of elder must always remember that the misuse of their power only impairs the church. Instead, elders ought to go beyond the call of duty in proving themselves as examples to the flock. We are to emulate Jesus, who came to serve and not to be served [see Mark 10:45]. Both humility and sacrificial service are the hallmarks of godly leadership.
So what then is the motivation for one to serve in the office of elder then? We read above what it is not ... not duty, not avarice, not for power ... but proper motivation does, in fact, exist as Peter writes in v. 4: "And when the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory." So we learn that elders do labor for a reward -- one that will be given to them on the day of Christ's return. The prize of 'the unfading crown of glory' comes in the next life, not this one. This reward, though delayed, will certainly be worth the labor -- a crown of glory. So we run this race with patience. The day is all too fast approaching when we will dwell on high with the chief Shepherd. And when He comes, He most certainly will bring His reward with Him.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Born to Run
How is it that we even as children can imagine a life that we have never before known? How is it possible that we can engage in such a complex thinking process years before we are even capable of surviving on our own? We can be five years old and want to be a doctor or if you were like me, a major league baseball player. Why? We don't need a job. All our bills are being paid. We have food, shelter, clothing, toys, chauffeurs, a personal bodyguard and even a private chef. Heck, we had it all! What was the motivation to change? We never had it better.
Even when we were little, we thought big. We want it all. We wanted to play sports, to be in movies, to become tall, dark and handsome, to be older. What were we thinking?
We couldn't wait to be teenagers when we were in elementary school. Then it was to be sixteen and able to drive. Then eighteen [now twenty-one] to be able to legally consume adult beverages and vote. Then to be twenty-one and to graduate from college. Then at twenty-nine we came to our senses and wished we were twenty-five again and counting down.
Can you remember when all we could do was crawl? I know I'm asking a lot here:) But come on, think back. Did we ever have it made! We were carried everywhere. Adults jumped to meet our every need. We could cry, whine, and basically act like a baby and still the world would revolve around us. Oh how those were the days!
But we couldn't leave well enough alone, now could we? We had to start trying to walk, and at what cost? Falling over and over again, we certainly weren't naturals. But we insisted. We stumbled our way through it. And then as soon as we could, we made a run for it. We may not be like that now, but when we were toddlers we were stubbornly ambitious humans.
There is something inside that drives us. Call it ambition, passion, rebellion, competition, independence, whatever -- it manifests itself in different ways, but it's in us from the very beginning. The human spirit longs to become. "Become what?" one might ask. It hardly seems to matter. We are motivated by an endless number of things, but they have one thing in common, they are always big.
We humans are dreamers. We don't so much as grow into this as much as it too seems to be a factory defect. In fact, when we are young and less grounded in reality, we dream bigger and more ridiculous dreams. I remember one three year-old boy who wanted to become a fire truck when he got older. Our ambitions and aspirations can be absolutely out of control when we're in our pre-adolescent years. We tend to be like young Leo in the movie Titanic, standing on the bow of the ship, shouting for all creation to hear, "I'm the king of the world." He wasn't, you know.
Though we seem to get it in different measures and intensities, all of us long to become. We are born with an instinct for not only survival but also accomplishment. There is a fire inside each of us that propels us forward. We are designed to learn, to adapt, to grow, to change, to develop, to progress, to become. Especially when we are children, we have endless energy that fuels play, curiosity and imagination. Even from childhood we naturally move towards our future. I think it was George Bernard Shaw who lamented that imagination was wasted on the young. But it was Albert Einstein, on the other hand, who attributed the key to his genius as never losing his childhood curiosity.
As we grow into adulthood, these intensify into passion, desire, drive and ambition. Throughout our lives, we express these desires as we strive to achieve, to accomplish and to attain. We are all custom made for a future. All of us long for our lives to count in some way. We all have an internal need to achieve some kind of success or to somehow find significance. Another factory defect if you will. Pursuing the future that we desire energizes and inspires us. It appears in different forms, but in this we all share the same defect. Every one of us longs to create even when we don't know exactly what. All of us, at the very least, want to create a better life, a better future, a better us. To surrender these aspirations leads to apathy and despair.
Even when we were little, we thought big. We want it all. We wanted to play sports, to be in movies, to become tall, dark and handsome, to be older. What were we thinking?
We couldn't wait to be teenagers when we were in elementary school. Then it was to be sixteen and able to drive. Then eighteen [now twenty-one] to be able to legally consume adult beverages and vote. Then to be twenty-one and to graduate from college. Then at twenty-nine we came to our senses and wished we were twenty-five again and counting down.
Can you remember when all we could do was crawl? I know I'm asking a lot here:) But come on, think back. Did we ever have it made! We were carried everywhere. Adults jumped to meet our every need. We could cry, whine, and basically act like a baby and still the world would revolve around us. Oh how those were the days!
But we couldn't leave well enough alone, now could we? We had to start trying to walk, and at what cost? Falling over and over again, we certainly weren't naturals. But we insisted. We stumbled our way through it. And then as soon as we could, we made a run for it. We may not be like that now, but when we were toddlers we were stubbornly ambitious humans.
There is something inside that drives us. Call it ambition, passion, rebellion, competition, independence, whatever -- it manifests itself in different ways, but it's in us from the very beginning. The human spirit longs to become. "Become what?" one might ask. It hardly seems to matter. We are motivated by an endless number of things, but they have one thing in common, they are always big.
We humans are dreamers. We don't so much as grow into this as much as it too seems to be a factory defect. In fact, when we are young and less grounded in reality, we dream bigger and more ridiculous dreams. I remember one three year-old boy who wanted to become a fire truck when he got older. Our ambitions and aspirations can be absolutely out of control when we're in our pre-adolescent years. We tend to be like young Leo in the movie Titanic, standing on the bow of the ship, shouting for all creation to hear, "I'm the king of the world." He wasn't, you know.
Though we seem to get it in different measures and intensities, all of us long to become. We are born with an instinct for not only survival but also accomplishment. There is a fire inside each of us that propels us forward. We are designed to learn, to adapt, to grow, to change, to develop, to progress, to become. Especially when we are children, we have endless energy that fuels play, curiosity and imagination. Even from childhood we naturally move towards our future. I think it was George Bernard Shaw who lamented that imagination was wasted on the young. But it was Albert Einstein, on the other hand, who attributed the key to his genius as never losing his childhood curiosity.
As we grow into adulthood, these intensify into passion, desire, drive and ambition. Throughout our lives, we express these desires as we strive to achieve, to accomplish and to attain. We are all custom made for a future. All of us long for our lives to count in some way. We all have an internal need to achieve some kind of success or to somehow find significance. Another factory defect if you will. Pursuing the future that we desire energizes and inspires us. It appears in different forms, but in this we all share the same defect. Every one of us longs to create even when we don't know exactly what. All of us, at the very least, want to create a better life, a better future, a better us. To surrender these aspirations leads to apathy and despair.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Never Been Unloved
I have been unfaithful;
I have been unworthy;
I have been unrighteous;
And I have been unmerciful.
I have been unreachable;
I have been unteachable;
I have been unwilling;
And I have been undesirable.
And sometimes
I have been unwise,
I've been undone by what I'm unsure of.
But because of You,
And all that You went through,
I know that I have never been unloved.
I have been unbroken;
I have been unmended;
I have been uneasy;
And I've been unapproachable.
I've been unemotional;
I've been unexceptional;
I've been undecided;
And I have been unqualified.
Unaware --
I have been unfair,
I've been unfit for blessings from above.
But even I can see,
The sacrifice You made for me,
To show that I have never been unloved.
It's because of you,
And all that You went through,
I know that I have never been unloved.
As my thoughts regarding songs that haunt my soul are drawing to a close I want to finish with another one by one of my all time favorite singer/songwriters Michael W. Smith. So many people I run into are living seemingly loveless lives that it tears at my soul. One of my long time patients cried on my shoulder for over a half an hour today over her loveless, abusive marriage and the psychological torment she lives in day in and day out. She is literally counting down the four years till her youngest child, now fourteen years old, will graduate and she can move out and start a new life. She has untreated bipolar disorder and her husband taunts her regarding her "craziness" as a means to dehumanize her. Ultimately today she decided to come in just to "get drugged up" so that she "can make it through the next four years."
This past weekend I counseled another lady who also lives in a loveless, abusive marriage. Her husband left her a month ago and has threatened her with divorce. She too, like the woman above, would probably take exception to the lyrics of the song I quoted above as both of them are looking to be loved and cherished in this life and are seemingly striking out on all sides. Both of these women are professing believers in Christ and yet find it difficult to find their soul's satisfaction in Him. And so they keep looking for the things of this world to fill the ache in their souls. This phenomenon is sadly repeated millions of times daily across the globe. I can't help but wonder why? And would I feel or do anything any differently if I were in their situations?
As traumatic as earthquakes, hurricanes and tsunamis and other natural disasters may be, they are not the cause of the violence that tears our souls most deeply. What tears at us the most, what leaves us shattered and broken, is what we as people do to each other. A tidal wave has no moral compass, no capacity to feel deeply. Nature is not supposed to care about anything, but we are. Why is it that the most dangerous place to be in this world is in the hands of another human being unmoved by love?
God's motivation towards these women, as well as you, my family and me, is love. It turns out that God, too, has endured a dark night of the soul. He suffered for love so that we can find love in our suffering. While these women and so many others feel unwanted tonight [and for many nights previous to tonight], God would passionately disagree with that assumption. He would insist on rewriting the story: "Wanted before you were even conceived; loved from your very first breath." Sometimes the hardest problem we face is recognizing love when we see it.
Judas, the most infamous of Jesus' disciples, suffered from this problem as he looked straight into the face of love and remained blind to it. When he chose to turn against Jesus, he betrayed Him with nothing less than a kiss. This is the great irony of the human story. When God does come to embrace us, to meet us face-to-face, to bring us into relationship with Him, we far too often find ourselves betraying love.
Yet His love is undeterred.
He still pursues us with His relentless compassion.
God is the passionate lover of humanity.
He created us for love.
We cannot live without love, and we do not have to.
Yes, there is an insanity to love. We will go mad in pursuing it.
We will despise life itself if we do not find it.
Our souls crave love and will find satisfaction in nothing less.
We should not be surprised that as we look for love, we keep running into God.
We should listen to our souls. We have not given ourselves to a futile search.
We are not alone in our pursuit.
Love searches for us.
Is it possible that this is why the story won't just go away? It is now two thousand years later and somehow it is still strangely compelling.
On a cross, Jesus of Nazareth hung naked, beaten, mocked and pierced for love.
Talk about rejection.
It would be all too easy to conclude that God had made a fool of Himself.
What was He thinking to die for love?
He gambled everything on the power of love. That love was more powerful than hate. That love was more powerful than death. What was He thinking to die for us, to give Himself for you and me, knowing that we just might kiss Him on the face and then turn and walk away?
Love is just crazy like that.
I have been unworthy;
I have been unrighteous;
And I have been unmerciful.
I have been unreachable;
I have been unteachable;
I have been unwilling;
And I have been undesirable.
And sometimes
I have been unwise,
I've been undone by what I'm unsure of.
But because of You,
And all that You went through,
I know that I have never been unloved.
I have been unbroken;
I have been unmended;
I have been uneasy;
And I've been unapproachable.
I've been unemotional;
I've been unexceptional;
I've been undecided;
And I have been unqualified.
Unaware --
I have been unfair,
I've been unfit for blessings from above.
But even I can see,
The sacrifice You made for me,
To show that I have never been unloved.
It's because of you,
And all that You went through,
I know that I have never been unloved.
As my thoughts regarding songs that haunt my soul are drawing to a close I want to finish with another one by one of my all time favorite singer/songwriters Michael W. Smith. So many people I run into are living seemingly loveless lives that it tears at my soul. One of my long time patients cried on my shoulder for over a half an hour today over her loveless, abusive marriage and the psychological torment she lives in day in and day out. She is literally counting down the four years till her youngest child, now fourteen years old, will graduate and she can move out and start a new life. She has untreated bipolar disorder and her husband taunts her regarding her "craziness" as a means to dehumanize her. Ultimately today she decided to come in just to "get drugged up" so that she "can make it through the next four years."
This past weekend I counseled another lady who also lives in a loveless, abusive marriage. Her husband left her a month ago and has threatened her with divorce. She too, like the woman above, would probably take exception to the lyrics of the song I quoted above as both of them are looking to be loved and cherished in this life and are seemingly striking out on all sides. Both of these women are professing believers in Christ and yet find it difficult to find their soul's satisfaction in Him. And so they keep looking for the things of this world to fill the ache in their souls. This phenomenon is sadly repeated millions of times daily across the globe. I can't help but wonder why? And would I feel or do anything any differently if I were in their situations?
As traumatic as earthquakes, hurricanes and tsunamis and other natural disasters may be, they are not the cause of the violence that tears our souls most deeply. What tears at us the most, what leaves us shattered and broken, is what we as people do to each other. A tidal wave has no moral compass, no capacity to feel deeply. Nature is not supposed to care about anything, but we are. Why is it that the most dangerous place to be in this world is in the hands of another human being unmoved by love?
God's motivation towards these women, as well as you, my family and me, is love. It turns out that God, too, has endured a dark night of the soul. He suffered for love so that we can find love in our suffering. While these women and so many others feel unwanted tonight [and for many nights previous to tonight], God would passionately disagree with that assumption. He would insist on rewriting the story: "Wanted before you were even conceived; loved from your very first breath." Sometimes the hardest problem we face is recognizing love when we see it.
Judas, the most infamous of Jesus' disciples, suffered from this problem as he looked straight into the face of love and remained blind to it. When he chose to turn against Jesus, he betrayed Him with nothing less than a kiss. This is the great irony of the human story. When God does come to embrace us, to meet us face-to-face, to bring us into relationship with Him, we far too often find ourselves betraying love.
Yet His love is undeterred.
He still pursues us with His relentless compassion.
God is the passionate lover of humanity.
He created us for love.
We cannot live without love, and we do not have to.
Yes, there is an insanity to love. We will go mad in pursuing it.
We will despise life itself if we do not find it.
Our souls crave love and will find satisfaction in nothing less.
We should not be surprised that as we look for love, we keep running into God.
We should listen to our souls. We have not given ourselves to a futile search.
We are not alone in our pursuit.
Love searches for us.
Is it possible that this is why the story won't just go away? It is now two thousand years later and somehow it is still strangely compelling.
On a cross, Jesus of Nazareth hung naked, beaten, mocked and pierced for love.
Talk about rejection.
It would be all too easy to conclude that God had made a fool of Himself.
What was He thinking to die for love?
He gambled everything on the power of love. That love was more powerful than hate. That love was more powerful than death. What was He thinking to die for us, to give Himself for you and me, knowing that we just might kiss Him on the face and then turn and walk away?
Love is just crazy like that.
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