A True Legacy

“What I do you cannot do; but what you do, I cannot do. The needs are great, and none of us, including me, ever do great things. But we can all do small things, with great love, and together we can do something wonderful. . . . We can do no great things; only small things with great love” (Mother Teresa).

We’ve been force-fed a view of success that is numbers oriented. Like how many zeros are in your salary or your bank account. Or how many sales you’ve completed. Or how many followers you have on your Facebook or twitter account.

But I think that real success, the kind that God looks at as success, comes on a much smaller scale.

It’s about showing up every single day with a teachable spirit, an open heart, and willing hands. It’s about figuring out how you want to be remembered after you die and living that way now.

Real success is about people who are better because they knew you. It’s not so much that your name is engraved on a plaque on a building or on a street sign, but on peoples’ hearts.

I keep thinking about a lady named Jestine, after whom the restaurant Jestine’s Kitchen is named. She never made millions of dollars or had a #1 bestseller, but she left a mark on the people who knew her. Even now, 15 years after she passed away at age 112, she is still missed by so many.

Ultimately, the success I want is not so much that people will remember my name fondly, but that because of me, people will understand a little bit better who God is and how much he really does love them. That people will know that they are specially and uniquely made by their Creator.

I’m reminded of the saying from the Talmud that if you change one person, you change the world. I know because I’ve been that one person.

 

Falling Leaves

I love autumn. I especially love the keen bite of the crisp October air and the leaves changing colors and the smell of bonfires. I am a fall kind of guy.

I think it’s gotten into the mid-40′s in Nashville and that means a few traditions for me:

1) It’s time for me to start watching my scary movies in anticipation of Halloween, such as the Halloween movies and Rosemary’s Baby. I throw in the Halloween Charlie Brown special, not because it’s scary, but because it’s tradition and required by law to watch every October (or it should be).

2) It’s getting close to time for pumpkin carving and that yearly debate about what costume I will wear on October 31 (and yes, I still do wear costumes, though they tend to be last minute, Goodwill-bought variety).

3) Hopefully, it means hay rides and corn mazes and bonfires and roasted marsh mellows (I like mine blackened just a bit on the outside).

4) It means that Thanksgiving and the mad rush to Christmas will be just around the proverbial corner and that all the festive holiday decor will start showing up in your local Walgreens and other retail outlets in the next couple of weeks, if they aren’t already pulling out the ornaments and tinsel as I write this.

5) I don’t know why, but fall tends to bring back all my happy childhood memories. Maybe it’s the smell of fall that triggers these memories. I’m not sure.

6) I almost forgot. Fall means the return of the seasonal Starbucks drinks, including caramel apple spice, pumpkin spice and– my favorite– chegnogg, which for the uninitiated is chai egg nog late. I very highly recommend it.

I thought about posting a pretty picture of falling leaves or something very autumn-y, but I am feeling lazy and sleepy at the moment, so just use your imagination. It’s more fun that way.

A Good Lesson from A Lost Key

I went walking on the beach today in my ever-so-stylish swimming trunks. Imagine the polar opposite of speedos and you have an idea of what they looked like.

I headed out to the beach and went about waist-deep into the ocean. I waded like that for a while before I remembered to reach down and see if my key to the condo was still in my pocket. It was not.

I had a moment of panic. Or more accurately, a minor heart attack. I was thinking of how my keys were probably halfway to the Bahamas, or wherever the next destination is across from the ocean in South Carolina. I was figuring out in my head how much the fee for a lost key would be.

When I got back to my beach chair and looked through my backpack, there my key was where I left it when I took it out of my pocket. Apparently, I outsmarted myself again.

Sadly, this was not the first time I was too smart for my own good. On a college and career retreat to Panama City, I was convinced that I had lost my watch on the beach, only to find it in my bed. After much panicking and searching and fretting.

I was reminded tonight of the prodigal on his way back home to see his father. He was thinking, “I have lost everything. How am I going to explain that? What excuse could I possibly use to keep from getting unceremoniously thrown out the door?”

Little did he know that his father was already running down the road to meet him, not caring about all the money he wasted. All the father cared about was that his son had come home.

God doesn’t care about your wasted days and years. He doesn’t care about how you misused all those gifts he gave you. All he cares about is seeing you come home.

I worried for nothing. I made a big deal out of nothing. All my fears turned out to be groundless lies.

Whatever is keeping you from coming back to God is a lie. As big as your sin or mistake or failure, God’s grace is bigger. A past of shame and scars and waste is no barrier to the great love of God. There is nothing to heinous or scandalous that he won’t forgive. Nothing.

Your Father God is calling you. Will you come home?

Starry Beach Nights

Tonight, I took a short walk on the beach. It was great.

I had a t-shirt and shorts and a flashlight, so I could avoid stepping on anything sharp or living. At least that was my plan and it worked well for the most part.

It was a beautiful night. There were more stars out than I have seen in a long time and a cool ocean breeze was blowing in my direction. The sand and ocean water felt good on my feet.

I was alone on the beach and I felt currents of peace wash over me. I didn’t walk very far or stay out there long, but I stayed long enough.

Sometimes, you just need to get away from all the noise and the distractions and the hurry and find a place where you can be still and quiet and breathe. It doesn’t have to be the beach, but a place where you feel peaceful and at rest. A place where you can hear the still small voice of God.

When I get back home, I will find mine. I know I need to hear from God on a daily basis to keep my sanity and to know what to do next. Sometimes, I need to be able to still the other voices that clamor and contradict each other and tell me every way to go but the right way.

My prayer is that both you and I find those places where God speaks. My prayer is that we have open ears to hear and willing hearts to obey what we hear.

I think I’ll sleep good tonight.

 

My Take on Charleston (So Far)

 

Yeah, I could see myself living in Charleston, South Carolina. Probably sitting in a rocker or in a swing on a front porch with a glass of diabetic coma-inducing sweet tea.

I didn’t love it at first, but it’s grown on me. All the historic buildings and really old homes (as in as far back as the early 1700′s kind of old) have a charm all their own that gets into your blood after a while.

I particularly loved walking on Tradd Street and thinking it looked this way over 200 years ago. That boggled the mind. At least my mind, anyway.

There’s too much to see and do and experience for just one trip, so I will be going back. Soon, I hope. I hope I don’t sound crazy or in need of further medication when I say I love the smell of the place. Kind of a smell of a long history mixed with the sweet decay of old buildings.

Definitely take a good camera with you if you go and keep your eyes open at all times for those photographic moments. I took probably close to 200 pics while I was down there.

I love the fact that a lot of the front doors lead to the front porch (or I guess it would be the side porch if you think about it). I love all the brick walls with iron gates and wooden doors. I felt like I was peeking into Lothlorien or into Narnia when I squinted through the iron bars.

If you go, definitely go to Jestine’s Kitchen. It is worth whatever time you spend waiting in line. Check out the old church buildings, especially the St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, where George Washington attended when he visited the city. It is like stepping into Revolutionary War-era history.

Thanks to my friends who suggested all the dining places and sight-seeing places. I owe you one someday.

 

Mourning a Friend

I found this in the preface of a book I bought for $3. I thought it spoke so beautifully to those who have had to say goodbye to loved ones this side of heaven. I believe it’s by Charles Wesley and I hope it speaks to you the way it did to me:

“If death my friend and me divide,
Thou dost not, Lord, my sorrow chide,
Or frown my tears to see;
Restrained from passionate excess,
Thou bidst me mourn in calm distress
For them that rest in Thee.

I feel a strong immortal hope,
Which bears my mournful spirit up
Beneath its mountain load;
Redeemed from death, and grief, and pain,
I soon shall find my friend again
Within the arms of God.

Pass a few fleeting moments more
And death the blessing shall restore
Which death has snatched away;
For me Thou wilt the summons send,
And give me back my parted friend
In that eternal day.”

Earthquakes, Fires, Tornadoes . . . . Oh My!

This may be common knowledge to be filed under the file drawer labeled “DUH!”, but I felt it needed to be said (or more accurately, written down).

The same God who went before the Israelites as a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night still reigns. The same God who took human flesh and stilled the waves of a storm in the person of Jesus still has authority over all storms.

This God is Lord over earthquakes and tornadoes and hurricanes and wildfires and any other catastrophic natural occurrences you can imagine. He still has the power to speak over storms and bid them be still.

That goes for the storms in your own life.

I don’t know why he allows storms to come. In the end, he is able to work good out of tragedies such as Hurricane Katrina or any of the devastating tornadoes or earthquakes that strike anywhere in the world.

I think that part of the reason for storms is that creation suffers under the effects of the fall. The Bible speaks of creation groaning and awaiting a time when Jesus will come and set things right again.

Creation and nature are out of balance and out of whack since Adam and Eve sinned (and don’t even get me started on who’s to blame on that one– they both messed up).

Sometimes, God causes storms. In the Old Testament, God stirs up wind and fire and other natural elements to do his bidding. Storms show that God is not only a God of love and mercy, but of power and justice.

The point is that God is still God in the midst of the storm as he is on a clear and sunny day. He has just as much power and He is just as able to rescue those who call on his name.

I love the quote that says that sometimes God calms the storm, but sometimes he allows the storm to rage and instead calms his child. I think that’s so very true.

 

Not Forgotten

There’s an old horror movie that I really like called Carnival of Souls. It’s about a young woman involved in a car accident who somehow survives and goes across country to play organ for a church congregation.

The one part that gets to me is that part where she’s in a department store looking for a new dress. Suddenly, it’s as if she doesn’t exist anymore. No one can see or hear her. Her world goes silent.

Have you ever felt like that? Like you had been forgotten in the mad rush of daily living? Like no one knew you were there anymore and no one could hear or see you?

Take heart. God knows who you are. God knows where you are. God sees and hears your cries in the middle of the night. He has collected your tears in a bottle.

You are not forgotten. You are not alone.

 

My Rant About Tennessee Driving

First of all, I am not a perfect driver. I am what is known in the technical sense as direction-impaired. I have done my fair share of unintentional sight-seeing and taken a few unintended scenic routes because I turned the wrong way once (or five times).

But sometimes I’m driving and I see someone doing something that compels me to speak out loud to that driver. I’m aware that that person can’t hear me and I probably look foolish, but I say things like:

“You know, those yellow lines in the center of the road? Not just for decoration anymore.”

“The term ‘middle of the road’ is an expression not to be taken literally. Pick a side and drive on it.”

“You know that little stick thing coming out of your steering wheel? That’s called a turn signal. Learn how to use one.”

“That red light still means stop. And I’m pretty sure it hasn’t become optional.”

There are some cases when I have no words, like when someone swerves over three lanes to make a last-minute right hand turn. Or when someone takes an hour to turn into a parking lot.

The funny thing is that I do some mindbogglingly stupid stuff when I’m driving. But I can justify my own driving because I was in a hurry or stressed or preoccupied. Sometimes, I just have to look at the other driver and mouth the words, “I’m sorry.” Usually spoken to the rear-view mirror.

I should probably give more grace to other drivers. If I weren’t so preoccupied with judging other people’s driving skills, I might just be a better driver myself. I’d hate to think that someone else used my standards when judging me as a driver.

It’s easier to make it black and white and point the finger in any area of life, but much harder to extend grace. I’m really good at receiving it, but not nearly so good at giving it out.

Just another reason why I’m so glad that grace isn’t about what you or I deserve, but about the mercy of God.

 

Sunshine and Rain (Pump It Up Now)

It rained all day. And by all day I do mean ALL DAY. From the moment I woke up and saw that it was already raining until just now, when it is still sprinkling a bit.

I know rain is a good thing and that it makes things grow. I know we need it.

Yet some part of me still yearns for a place where it is consistently sunny and 75 degrees all year round. Part of me would like that very much. Then again, that same part of me wants to eat only chocolate all the time, non-stop.

But the part of me that knows that an all-chocolate diet would get old. Yes, even chocolate wouldn’t be nearly so wonderful if I had it all the time. It would get old. So would sunshine 24/7. At least to me.

You need rainy seasons if only to better appreciate the sunshine. Whether that’s in the weather or in life. Sorrow makes up appreciate laughter all the more and pain serves to make joy all the more memorable.

The joke in Tennessee is that we get all four seasons. Sometimes in one week. The weather can at times be very unpredictable and has probably led to an increase in ulcers and nervous breakdowns among weathermen in this fine state.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t go around wishing for pain and sorrow and struggles. Believe me. I’d rather do without them if I could. But those things are inevitable, and when they come, I appreciate laughter and joy and peace all the more because I don’t take those things for granted anymore.

So if the sun comes out tomorrow (and I’m hoping it does), I will be more glad to see it than if today had been sunny instead of rainy. It’s all about perspective.