“But We Had Hoped . . . “

“And we had our hopes up that he was the One, the One about to deliver Israel” (Luke 24:21).

I know you know what it’s like to have your hopes dashed yet again.

Maybe you thought a certain person was the one, but it turned out that he wasn’t interested in you like that or she only wanted to be friends.

Maybe you invested in a friendship and found out that you weren’t nearly as high on the other person’s list of priorities. Or maybe that other person saw some of your flaws and decided you just weren’t worth the effort anymore.

Maybe you felt confident after a really good job interview only to discover the company went with someone else they felt was a “better fit.”

Maybe you gave your time and energy and talent to a company for so many years only to find yourself on the receiving end of a pink slip with the words that went something like “we had to make some cutbacks somewhere.”

Maybe you’re at the place where it’s easier not to hope anymore. Where it’s easier not to open up to anyone or trust anyone beyond a surface level anymore. Where it’s easier and safer to give up on your dreams than risk the possibility of more disappointment and heartache.

Just like those two disciples, maybe you and I have gotten so wrapped up in ourselves that we miss who it is that’s walking alongside of us. We’ve missed his comforting words. Don’t you see him yet?

It’s Jesus.

I love what I heard a pastor say recently that went something like this: “Aren’t you glad that at the greatest hour of need that God didn’t send a text or a skype invite? He sent Jesus.”

Jesus has come to hear your story and then connect it with his. Not that he’ll be surprised by anything you tell him. He already knows what you’ve been through, even the ugly parts you would never tell another living soul. And he loves you.

He’ll stick around when friends bail, when spouses leave, when children don’t want to come around anymore. He’ll love you even when you can’t find the strength to love yourself.

Tonight, I’m more thankful for Jesus than ever. I know that when I’m feeling overwhelmed by negative thinking and feelings of abandonment, he’s speaking peace into my chaos. He’s whispering truth over the lies I’m believing.

And he won’t ever leave me.

Another Easter Toast (But This One’s All Mine)

I raise my glass and drink to all the losers, drop-outs, failures, rejects, and nobodies. I drink to all the castaways, the worthless, the reprobates, the down-and-outers, and anybody who just can’t seem to get their act together. To all the crooks and whores and drunks and junkies and thieves.

Why?

You are the ones Jesus died for. He himself said he came not for those who were well, those who were righteous, but for you, the sick, the sinner, the wretched, blind, and poor. Those without a hope left in the world.

Blessed are you for you have found hope.

Blessed are you for you have been made new. The past no longer counts against you and the future is yours.

Blessed are you for God so loved you that he gave his only Son that you should not perish but have full, abundant, and rich eternal life, starting now.

Blessed are you when you’ve reached the end of your rope, as one translation puts it, because there is less of you and more of God and his rule.

Blessed are you when you cry out to God and beg for pardon for all your mistakes and failures and sins and find that forgiveness and freedom is sweeter and grander and longer and wider than you ever imagined they could be.

I toast you because you really appreciate what this day is all about. You know that because of this day you are alive and free from any condemnation. Because of Easter Sunday, you no longer have to let your past define you or your future.

You have an Advocate, a Redeemer, a Savior, a Friend and a Father. You have a new name, a new start, a new tomorrow, and a new destiny.

I think that merits a toast, don’t you?

A Bittersweet Christmas

It’s been a bittersweet 2012 Christmas.

I’ve loved being with family and seeing my 14-month old niece getting the hang of walking and just starting to say her first words. Seeing my nephews’ faces light up with all their Christmas presents has been fun, too.

But today I’ve also been thinking a lot about my granddaddy who took his life 30 years ago tonight. It was Christmas Day 1982 when he decided that life wasn’t worth living anymore.

I still remember where I was when I found out about his suicide. I remember my pastor at the time coming over to tell me and how my 10-year old brain couldn’t process the news, so I went back to my room to watch the football game on my little black-and-white TV. I still don’t think I’ve completely processed it yet.

I have trouble remembering what he looked like, especially when he smiled, or what his laugh sounded like. I do know that I still miss him and I have so many things I’d like to tell him.

I’d tell him that he missed out on a lot. Like my sister and I growing up. Her getting married and having children. All of us getting older and closer together as a family. And most of all, how we’ve found God to be a comfort and a refuge.

I’d tell him that we all loved him so much. That we still love him so much, even 30 years after he left us. I’d tell him that there’s nothing so bad that family can’t help, and especially God’s love can’t get you through.

I’d say that I understand now a little better why he did what he did. I’m glad that he’s found peace at last in the arms of Jesus and has no more fears or worries or self-doubts.

I have something that belonged to him– an old tube radio from the 50′s that still works. It’s nice to be able to turn it on and think that I’m listening to the same radio that he kept on his workbench all those years. It makes me smile and remember him in happier times.

I’m a little more thankful for my family tonight. I hope to hug them more often, be more present in their lives, and tell them I love them as often as possible. You never know when it could be the last time you might have the chance.

A Christmas Prayer

Lord, the time approaches yet again when we celebrate your arrival in human skin to make your home among us as one of us. We celebrate that you became Immanuel, “God with us,” and took your place among us, sharing our joys and sorrows, weaknesses and pains.

We confess that we have so often lost sight of why we celebrate this day. We have made it into the giving and receiving of gifts and of excessive shopping and spending. We have forgotten that at the heart of Christmas, it is your birthday.

Help us also to remember those for whom Christmas isn’t such a happy time. So many mourn the loss of loved ones and live in the midst of family strife and turmoil. So many are facing tough days ahead as many are without jobs, some without homes and even the basic necessities.

Help us to walk along side those who are hurting in this Christmas season. May they find you, O God, to be their burden bearer, their refuge, their safe dwelling, and their peace in the midst of storms. Comfort them, bring healing to their strife, and be in the midst of them as the Prince of Peace.

Help us to remember those less fortunate than we and to be generous to those around us who have needs, both physical and spiritual. May we serve you by serving one of the least of these.

May we remember Christmas every day by being living incarnations of your presence everywhere we go, for you are not only God with us, but you are God in us, too. May we never forget that what started out in a manger ended on a cross, and that we are alive and free because of that terrible price you paid.

So as we get into the days of celebration and merriment, help us to remember that you are the reason for it all. May the best gift we give anyone be to show them your love and point them to you this holiday season.

The Art of the Blog

I’m sitting here at my laptop (+5 cool points) wearing my brown plaid shorts (-10 cool points) and pondering the mysteries of the universe. Which means I don’t have a topic to blog about and I can’t for the life of me think of one at the moment.

This is “stream-of-consciousness” blogging, or more accurately, “making stuff up as I go and hoping something sticks.”

I realize now this is why most people don’t do the daily blog thing. It’s really hard coming up with new and fresh and relevant material day after day. Especially when the highlight of your day was spending an hour on the elliptical.

I’m just an ordinary guy who loves God and loves to write. My goal is to communicate the truth of Who this God is and Who this Jesus is and to help you in your discovery of who you are in Christ and who God made you to be.

It’s hit or miss. Some blogs work, some don’t. Some may speak to you in the depth of your soul, some may just be words on a page. That’s okay.

I really do believe that if I was the only one getting anything out of this, that would be enough. And it is theraputic and healing to get these thoughts out of my head and down into a tangible format.

I intend to keep blogging away for as long as God allows. I intend to keep telling the good news that God really is for you and He really likes and loves you and He does have a wonderful plan for your life. He is the wonderful plan for your life.

I’m not saying everything will be sunshine and roses and kittens in baskets. Life is hard and storms do come. But God is just as faithful on the dark and stormy nights as He is in the sunshiny summer days. That’s all.

Your regularly scheduled game of Farmville will now resume. Thank you and have a pleasant evening.

Addictions: Lessons from Tonight’s Kairos

When you think of the word addiction, you probably think of the junkie with the needle in his arm or the guy staggering from a bar at 2 am, too drunk to even be able to walk in a straight line.

But maybe addiction looks like the man who works 80 hours a week every week or uses food as comfort to ease the pain he can’t handle. Maybe you’re like me and your addiction is the approval of others. Whatever it is, you’re not alone and there’s hope.

The story of recovery from addiction is the story of moving from slavery to freedom. The Bible says that you are a slave to whatever you choose to obey, whether that be God or a controlled substance or a relationship or a hobby or a career.

Whatever it is, it’s a form of idolatry. You are giving power to something or someone other than God to hold your life together. The thing is that nothing else has the power, the weight, to keep your life together and keep you from spinning out of control.

I loved what Mike Glenn said. He says that Jesus doesn’t stop by your unraveling life to inform you that you’re going to hell. He comes to you in your moment of greatest weakness and says, “You are Mine. You belong to Me. And you don’t have to stay here in slavery.”

You will never overcome addiction alone. You need someone else, whether that be an accountability partner or a 12-step group. It takes time and work.

Jesus died so you wouldn’t have to be beholden to anything ever again. He died to provide you a way out.

The hard part is that often Jesus will take you and walk you through the painful event or memory that you’ve been trying so hard to anesthesize or drown out or numb or run away from. He will take you through it rather than throwing you over it, and you face it and overcome it and never have to be afraid of it ever again.

If God is for you, who can ever be against you? No one. Nothing. And if God said it, that settles it, whether you believe it or not.

I have never been a drug addict or an alcoholic, but as a recovering approval-addict, I know that there is freedom and victory in the name of Jesus. I know what it is through His mighty name to overcome and triumph.

I am learning not to rush the healing process, but to believe that the healing is happening. There is joy in seeing the shackles and chains of addiction and strongholds fall away and you find that you are walking in freedom for the first time.

That’s what I pray for each of you– freedom.

5 Minutes

I’ve been trying to lose weight and get in shape. Lately, that means putting in an hour on the elliptical. For me, that’s a lot.

Some mornings, I feel there’s no way I can last that long. So I try for the first 5 minutes. After that, I try for 10. And so forth. If I break an hour down into 5-minute segments, it’s not nearly so bad.

Life is like that.

Some days, you think there’s no way you can survive for the next 24-hours. You feel completely and utterly overwhelmed. Don’t try. Just take the next 5 minutes and breathe deeply and slowly and think to yourself, “I can survive the next 5 minutes.”

Sometimes, you are held captive by your fears telling you that you’ve really messed it up this time and that friend is gone for good. It’s tempting to try and fix what really isn’t broken (which never works, by the way). Or you take the next 5 minutes and are able to start seeing the cracks in the fabric of that lie.

You can do anything for 5 minutes. You can pray or be silent or wait. You can breathe slowly and deeply. You can remember one blessing God has given you and dwell on that.

When I’m stressed out and can’t sleep, 5 minutes of meditating on the goodness of God can make all the difference. It can take me from almost falling back into my old approval-addiction, “nobody likes me” trap to remembering that I am still blessed with family and friends who surprise me all the time in unexpected ways with grace at every turn.

So set your stopwatch or your phone for 5 minutes. It may be a small start, but sometimes all Jesus needs in your life is the smallest place to start. Then He can do amazing things in your life.

I am living proof of  that.

 

Speaking Life into Each Other

Have you ever posted something on facebook with one specific person in mind, just hoping that person would read it and comment on it? I have. . . I mean, a friend of mine has. . . . ok, I’m so busted. That was me.

Maybe if you’ve done it, too, you were like me and felt crushed and ignored when said person didn’t comment or even like the post.

I realize now how co-dependent and passive-agressive that was (not to mention somewhat OCD). Looking back, I see just how silly and juvenile that was.

The thing with co-dependency is that you always need to be liked and affirmed and acknowledged. The sad part is no matter how people do, it will never be enough. It’s kinda like a drug, where you need more and more to feel normal.

What I need are friends who will tell me the truth in love.

As I have mentioned before, I am in the healing process. I am finally learning to like me. I can finally stand to look at myself in the mirror. I can finally like being around me.

It’s because I have people around me who speak life and healing and wisdom into me. I have people who see me the way God sees me and help me to see myself that way.

In a conversation with a friend at Starbucks, I had an interesting revelation. My friend said that Hebrews speaks of Jesus as putting a human face on God. Then I got to thinking afterward, maybe you and I put hands and feet to Jesus when we serve each other and those around us in need. When we speak the words of Jesus into each others’ lives.

I am a lot better at not wigging out when people don’t respond to my posts or texts. I get that people have lives and issues other than me and that I can’t realistically demand to be the center of everybody’s attention all the time. That’s not healthy.

But I know that I have God’s full attention 24/7 and that He is speaking to me all the time. Sometimes when I’m alone with my Bible open or sometimes when I’m in a one-on-one conversation with a friend or sometimes through random posts or texts or sightings around town.

I am coming to the point where it’s not about me, but helping people to find their YES in Jesus and come to know and believe about themselves what God says about them and sees in them. That’s my ministry and calling.

May you be as comfortable in silence and solitude as you are in a crowd and learn to love yourself as God does. It is so very freeing.

Baggage Part II: Polaroids of the Past

If you’ve lived long enough to make at least one incredibly stupid decision, you’ve got some of these. Maybe you’re like me with lots of small regrets, moments of time captured in your mind as clear as the images on a polaroid.

They call it flash bulb memory, where you can remember every single detail of a certain moment in time where something in your life changed. Those happen in good moments, in tragic moments, and most of all, in moments where you and I screwed up.

Maybe you are like me and have been carrying around a suitcase full of those images for years. The suitcase keeps getting heavier and heavier as you compile more polaroids of shame and guilt. More moments you would give anything to go back and undo.

Jesus wants those polaroids. Not for the reasons you think. He’s not going to be shocked or surprised by what He sees. He knows about each and every one. In fact, He was there when they happened.

He wants all of these pictures, not to hold them over your head every day or to make you feel perpetually ashamed. He wants to take them from you and case them as far away from you as possible. As far as the east is from the west. As far as the heavens are above the earth.

I am not my mistakes. Neither are you. Who I was in my weakest moments is not who I am. The way you acted all those years ago isn’t really you anymore. If anyone is in Christ, he or she is a brand new creation. Not a better you, but a completely new you.

It’s time to stop being weighed down by the past and start walking in the freedom that comes with new mercies and clean slates each morning. It’s time to really live in the freedom Christ purchased for us, the condemnation-free life that is now ours.

 

I Know: Living in Captivity

“I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for” (Jeremiah 29:11)

Lots of people quote the above as their favorite verse. Lots of people go even further and call it their life verse, me being one of them. It’s nice to know that God’s got your future in His hands.

But when you look at the context, this is written to people in captivity who are longing for home. The funny part is that they are longing for a home they’ve never seen, but only heard stories about.

Many of us feel like captives. Maybe you feel trapped in a job you don’t like, but you’re afraid to step out in a bad economy and look for new work, so you stay and stress and count the minutes to the end of every day.

Maybe you feel like your family doesn’t know or appreciate you. Maybe you feel like your spouse is always tearing you down and never offering anything positive. Maybe you’ve being going to a church for a while and you still feel like a stranger and an outsider.

Maybe you feel like your friends have all moved on and left you behind in your pain. Maybe you had your romantic hopes dashed yet again and feel even less desirable than ever.

Read the first part of the verse. God knows. He’s aware of your distress. He sees the tears you cry in the dark when you’re alone and feels the pain that hides behind the facade of a smile.

He has a plan for you. He has a dream for you that is bigger than you but that you get to be a part of. He has a future for you that is as wide-open and free as His amazing grace.

I love how one author said that when you are in a dark place, listen very carefully because God has a special and very precious word for you that you won’t be able to receive any other way.

Jesus knows what it feels like to be alone and forsaken. That’s why He said He would never to either to you. Ever.

Keep trusting and keep believing, even when you don’t feel like it. Keep clinging to Jesus. If all you can pray is “Help me,” keep praying that over and over until it becomes your mantra.

I have never known a storm that didn’t leave a rainbow or a night that didn’t turn into day. Your time is coming and God’s got good things coming your way. Hold on.