PERSPECTIVE

I had a conversation with a friend this past week. She was talking about how every time she started to dig into the Word and started getting closer to the Lord, something bad happened. It seemed as if she believed that her pursuit of God was bringing about these attacks. It made her want to stop in her tracks. After all, if things were just going to get worse, she should back off.

I looked at her and said, “I believe you’ve got it all backwards. You are not looking at this in the right way. You see, I believe God knew the attacks were coming, so He drew you into the Word and initiated the time of deeper intimacy. He wanted you full and grounded when all of this hit. Just think of where you would be if your legs were not under you when all of this came down.” She relaxed and you could see the appreciation for God’s grace washing through her. This God she loves had prepared her for an onslaught.

Modern theology might ask, well, why didn’t He just stop the onslaught? But Biblical truth tells us in the world we will have tribulation, but that we will overcome because He overcame. In God’s mercy, He prepares us for times of tribulation if we will allow Him to do so. In His mercy, He had placed my friend in the protective covering of His presence before the storm came through. The enemy wanted her to think the storm came because of her proximity to God, when in truth it was her orbiting of God that saved her during the onslaught that had already been set in motion. What a marvelous God! How deeply He loves His children.

When my friend grabbed hold of this truth, you could see the peace and gratitude wash through her. Her faith was strengthened by a change in perspective.

Another friend made an offhand remark, “Why is it that every time I get ahead financially something happens? Everything I have saved is gone.” I said, “How good of God to provide what you needed before you ever needed it. Now you do not have to go into debt to pay for this unexpected situation.” They rolled their eyes, looked at me and said, “You are one of those glass-half-full people, aren’t you?” They meant it as an indictment. I took it as a compliment. But you see, to me, the glass being half full is just a blessing from God. There are many in the world who have no water in the glass whatsoever.

I am blessed. I serve a good God who takes care of me. I choose to live my life magnifying the good and minimizing the bad. I will not spend my precious time on this planet mourning over what I think I do not have, but in gratitude over all that I have been given.

How will you choose to live?

Dear struggling soul, there is so much peace to be found in a simple changing of perspective.

ACT LIKE IT

Colossians 3:1 So if you're serious about living this new resurrection life with Christ, act like it. Pursue the things over which Christ presides.

Last night I sat in stunned silence as the woman across from me turned beet-red in anger. I am quite sure her blood pressure went through the roof as her eyes filled with rage, her mouth turned down in a snarl, teeth bared and her arm shot out in an attempt to slap the police officer who was trying to calm her.

Nothing like a high school basketball game to bring out the best in people.

I thought about that woman today. She was old enough to be my mother. Old enough to know better. I thought about how stressful her life must be in order for her to go over the edge like that in a public arena, over a little ball going through a hoop. I thought about how out of focus things must be in her world – how out of line her thinking must have become. I wondered what happened to her peace, and if she had ever had any. I wondered if the Sunday previous she had sat in a pew somewhere and made any attempt whatsoever to connect with her Creator, her source of peace. I briefly thought, wonder if she is a Christian?

And that thought shocked me a little.

Made me think.

Because that was not a question I would have even considered a few years ago. Back then I thought I knew what a Christian looked like and how they behaved.

You see, for better or for worse, (worse - in my opinion) it’s getting really hard to spot behavioral Christianity these days. Unfortunately, our perceptions of grace have wrongly licensed our lower lifestyles. We do not believe God expects anything better of us, so we expect nothing of ourselves. We have issued ourselves get out of jail free cards for every wrong behavior, and in the process, the image of Christ is all but disappearing from our walk before man. We think we are walking examples of His mercy, when in fact we are misrepresentations of truth. We are perpetrators of a great universal injustice – we applaud a blemished bride and attempt to offer her to a Holy Groom in the name of mercy unceasing.

I know, it seems like a heavy thing to derive from a mad woman at a basketball game – but where did our convictions go? When did the line between right and wrong disappear to be replaced by the gray ambivalence of cheapened grace? When did Christianity begin to wear the garments of watered-down morality and secular humanism? When did we stop paying attention to that still, small voice and start obeying this overfed, under-disciplined flesh of ours?

As I look around, I miss the evidences of a life controlled by God. Not the thumped Bibles, or the bumper stickers. Not the bad comb-overs or three piece suits, the Aqua Velva, long skirts and pious faces; but the wise, gentle ways of a peace-filled existence. I miss the clean, simple, love-you-Jesus kind of hearts and lifestyles. I miss Christians who behave like they believe in the Holy and the Divine and the Sacred. I miss the deep appreciation for sins covered by precious blood that was shed through pain and sacrifice. And I miss the once-piercing awareness that a brutal price was paid for our redemption.

Say what you will, I still believe a life committed to Christ looks completely different than a life led by the senses. I still believe you can and should know a Christian when you look them in the eye... or watch their behavior. Tattoos, piercings, blue jeans, t-shirts, Dior or Durango, the love of Christ should radically and completely change us from the inside out. And I truly believe if the God you serve is not big enough on the inside to effect the behaviors on the outside, you may want to take a closer look at who you really are serving.

Dear Ones, Grace is not an enabler. It is a gift.

We really should act like it.

WILLOW

When I was a little girl we had a huge weeping willow tree in the front yard of our house. It sat to the right of the porch and encompassed the whole area. I remember feeling so small beneath its branches. I would crawl under the canopy and hide behind the fragrant green curtain, and there, in the depths of this captivatingly lush beauty I would build my kingdom… for I had been given a Burger King crown made of shiny paper and that most assuredly made me royalty.

I found that old metal serving spoons made wonderful scepters and came in quite handy as shovels, most capable of digging moat trenches around sturdy trunk roots, and Dixie cups can fill that ravine quite readily after many trips to mama’s kitchen. I discovered that small plastic dishes look most appetizing laden with big old acorns harvested from the oak nearby, and that crazy squirrels are not afraid to come and retrieve their stolen bounty from little red headed girls who scream and run at the sight of them.

In my kingdom I found that stray dogs love lonely laps, and that mothers yell really loud when they find nothing but your legs sticking out from under the neighbor’s collie. And did you know that if you lay on the ground with your hands behind your head and squint just a bit, - sunshine through willow branches looks just like heaven exploding all around you? Dust mites floating on effervescent rays become mini Glenda's passing through on their way home to Oz, and tree frogs become sentinels calling forth into neighboring reptilian lands.

It was pure magic. There was nothing like it upstairs in my bedroom or in any other place I had ever been. Huge, vast, limitless and intimate, it was a mine. And it was right there in my front yard all along. I can remember thinking, how long has this been here and why didn’t anyone tell me? And then I remember this special kind of excitement just knowing that it was all right there at my fingertips. All I had to do was come out of my safe little room and take a few steps, reach out my hand and sweep aside the branches, and step behind the curtain.

And the kingdom awaited.

(Let those who have an ear, hear…)

Seems like forever ago, but I still feel the sense of drawing. Just the thought of the lazy willow blowing in the breeze makes me long for home, spoons, drooling dogs and tin foil crowns.

Oh, but dear ones, I have found a more wonderful kingdom. With one sweep of the heart I found myself behind its curtain. And like the first, I found myself asking, how long has this been here and why didn’t anyone tell me? For in this kingdom, there dwells a true, honest-to-goodness King. And He is good and kind and powerful. Beautiful to behold and easy to serve. The King Who rules this Kingdom carves mountain ranges with a breath and fills oceans with words. His voice sounds like many waters and His heart pounds melodies. He can speak floods and paint rainbows, heal wounds and scatter stars across night skies. He walks with the pauper and feeds the hungry, covers the naked and comforts the mourning. Yet He is enthroned in majesty, surrounded by praise and exalted by The Elders. High and lifted up, yet touchable and accessible.

In His Kingdom, less is more and the first is last. In His Kingdom rulers serve and servants rule and in His Kingdom, filthy rags are made righteous - scarlet sins become snow white. In His Kingdom lions lay down beside lambs and there is a tree whose branches truly do provide healing for all of the nations…

It must be a willow.

Psalm 145:13
Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and your dominion endures through all generations. The LORD is faithful to all his promises and loving toward all he has made.

Us and We

2010. Resolutions, promises, good intentions. You name it and it has been put out there into the atmosphere. When the ball dropped and the clock struck midnight renewed determinations filled the cosmos. I am going to exercise. I am going to spend more time with family. I am going to pay my tithes. I am going to be nicer, be smarter, be happier, be richer, be thinner. With whispered prayers and cries of exultation and revelry, crossed fingers, and fresh, clean diary page at the ready, we have stepped into a brand New Year of opportunity.

So, what are we going to do with this undeserved treasure we have been given?

You see, too many of our resolutions and revelations are singular in purpose and lonely in their course. We need some together time. We need some body life, family fun, generational blessings passed through the touch of a hand and the rubbing of a shoulder - the sharing of a conversation and a meal. We need impartation and corporate celebration. We need profound quiet in the midst of the community of many voices. We need to think bigger in our New Year meanderings. Let's think small globe (at the very least).

Let me ask you a couple of questions I have been asking myself lately.

1. Whose life will be better this year because you were a part of?
2. Who is missing from your thoughts, your prayers, your focus?
3. Who have you left behind that was supposed to go with you?
4. Where can you cultivate reconciliation?
5. Who cries for your forgiveness?

Simple questions, but important ones. Questions God's family should ask on a regular basis.

Guys, my prayer is that we would reach deep and bring "better" into the lives of everyone with whom God entrusts us to share this journey. I pray that those who have been forgotten, neglected, rejected, broken, bruised and abandoned would find their home in the hearts of His people. I pray that we will not repeat our sins, our failures, our transgression, and that our old habits will actually die… even if it is hard. I pray that lonely be abolished and separate be only for a time and by Spirit's unction. I pray that me time becomes us time, and all the Lone Rangers out there on the Jesus Frontier, finally find their Tonto's.

May this year be a year of fewer I's and more we's, and may it be filled with less of mine and more of ours.

Can WE just go there?

Reaching for You,
Barbie

THERE IS ROOM

Ahhhh. Home sweet home. Dust bunnies, dirty dishes, and a couple loads of laundry… FIVE GOLDEN RINGS… It is way too late, and way too close to Christmas for you to expect me to do anything coherent.

I just walked in from a wonderful Christmas program at church. I think pretty much all of you were there. (If not, you better start being faithful in your attendance… someone has taken your seat!) The house was full and the family was in rare form. What a wonderful exclamation point on an already joyous season.

As the orchestra struck the first strains and the choir began to swell, I snuggled into my seat, took a deep breath and relaxed for the first time in what seems like forever. I looked around the shadowed room and glimpsed the profiles of many that I hold dear (that would include you). I watched as babies crawled over weary mothers who continued to lift their voice in song. I watched sleeping infants drool on daddy’s shoulders as rich baritone voices filled the air. I saw mothers and daughters sitting close together and fathers and sons nudging one another with elbows, as if to say, “This is pretty cool…in a manly way.”

The sights and the sounds of Christmas surrounded me. Not the ones from the stage, though they were wondrous indeed, but the ones in the seats around me. What I heard was the laughter of hearts content and full. The camaraderie of strangers and friends that have slowly and perfectly, without notice, turned into family. The peace and unspoken gratitude of having finally found their place in this world. Home-folk, doing what home-folk do: loving, extending, welcoming, accepting, nourishing, making room for one another. Singing a spacious and welcoming song of genuine embrace. A song that made me feel like I was sitting by the hearth with friends...

And you see, this (I believe) is where the true sounds of Christmas can overtake you, just as they did me. For remember, two thousand years ago, in a crowded little nowhere town, a gentle young man and a weary young woman sought a place of rest and the sound they heard was that of “No Room.”

So tonight, my friends, I say thank you. Thank you for making room. Thank you for allowing me to experience a night in the heart of family, though my relatives live far away. Thank you for scooting over, patting the seat next to you and offering me a place close by. Thank you for sharing your lives, your laughter, your tears and your joy with me. Thank you for showing me how blessed I am and how generously God lavishes His love on the earth today. Thank you for being tenderhearted, kind, compassionate and faithful to one another. But most of all, tonight I thank you that you are a family that always makes room…

I love you dearly.


Luke 2: 7 “and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”

And They Danced

I went to Katie’s school the other day to have lunch with her. As I sat in the hallway waiting for her class to appear, I watched the children make their way through the cavernous hallways.

Single file…

Mouths shut tightly…

The familiar clip, clip of the teacher’s heels pounding on the tiled floors.

As they filed past I began to hum… all in all it’s just another brick in the wall. Oops… where did that come from? Pink Floyd?

When the next class came up the hallway, I watched as they marched silently, single file, close enough to the wall the keep the corridor clear. Hands clutching little metal lunch boxes, I began to sing… O EEE oh, O EEE Oh… (Picture Wizard of Oz march…)

The third class started around the corner… Hands by their sides, stepping in unison, silence and order reigned… until I saw him. Yes, you could not miss him.

As he rounded the corner the single file line took a detour. Arms flailing, hips moving to some unknown beat, the little boy danced his way down the corridor… everyone around him acting as if he did not exist.

As he danced, I sang … “Celebrate good times. Come on… it’s a celebration…” (Yes, still a child of the 70’s) I made it to the second “celebrate” before our mental music came to a screeching halt. Then came the voice. You know the voice. It is the voice that has told you all of your life that you must conform and fit in. From somewhere down the hall, just around the corner, I hear its weight shifting from burdened grown up, to carefree boy… the voice bellows… “That will be just about enough out of you, mister! You will now have a SILENT LUNCH (now picture the special effect echo...)… silent lunch… silent lunch…

A hush fell, accusing eyes darted toward the child who had dared break the rule. Dancing… in the middle of a school! How dare he?! The dancing stopped. The little boy stepped obediently into line, following the same path as everyone else, and went into the cafeteria, where he would now partake of his SILENT LUNCH. Order was restored once again. Chaos ceased to reign. All was well. The dancing had been brought under control. I mean, how dare he dance…?!

If I could go back and do it over, I would dance down every single hallway and risk the silent lunch.

I felt the little dancer dude’s pain. I thought about the many (and I do mean many) times Mrs. Margaret Bunch would sneak up behind me during naptime and swat my backside with that paddle just because I had something very life-changing and urgent to tell the person asleep on the mat next to mine. I mean, had it not been for this strong gifting of conversation that God had given me; I might have been truly scarred!

What’s my point?

Oh, I don’t know. Why does everything have to have a point? Sometimes you just want to talk about things… get them off your chest.

Ah, yes, my point is this:

There will be many times in your life – if you love God with all of your heart – that you will absolutely feel compelled to a heart rhythm, a different drum. You will hear music that no one else hears; feel a lightness in your step that woos you to dance instead of march. And when you feel His music, Darlin’ dance. Be willing to risk a silent lunch or two. Be ready to release what people think about you in exchange for caring what He thinks, because if you never risk it, you will miss the transcendent Celebrate moments.

Dear one, never let clicking heels – or wagging tongues – stop your dance. Or, as my four year old daughter so aptly sang as she danced her way absently down the aisle at church… “Our God is an awesome God… so shake, shake, shake,- shake, shake, shake, shake your booty.”

Selah

Still Waters

When I was a child I could not imagine why anyone would want to be “led beside still waters.” Who wants still waters? What fun is water when it is still? What were these grown-ups thinking that they would want a God who would lead them by still waters?

Me? Well, I wanted a God who would lead me down a log ride and splash headfirst into a waterfall. I wanted a God who was not afraid of whitewater.

Yep, it was cool that Peter walked on water, but could he ski?

Old people… I would think to myself ... they don’t know nothin’ about water. Didn’t they know that the only thing living in still water were turtles, tadpoles and catfish; mud-dwellers. Nope. That was not for me. I wanted to have to watch behind me for the next wave. I wanted to have to hold onto daddy to keep the undertow from taking me out. Rushing water - that was more my style. Now that was water!

Still water? Please….

Some forty years later, my perceptions have changed, for I have become one of those old people I could not understand. I know this because though the words still waters are still followed by the word please, the intonation is altogether different. The cry is not one of “you must be kidding,” but those of Oliver Twist “Please sir, can I have some more?” The thought of still waters evokes images of green grass and chaise lounges. Still waters call to me when I am in the midst of chaos. Still waters rest me when I am bone-weary.

I had a dream not too long ago about one of my friends that made me feel a moment of piercing jealousy. In the dream, she was laying beside a gently flowing stream. The water was cool and clear, the sound peaceful. In the dream, she was lying on her left side, her left arm curled under her head, her right hand skimming the waters surface as she rested. She looked so peaceful in this dream. She had found her place by the waters. Everything in me wanted to go there. My spirit longed for that place in Him.

When I told my friend about the dream she cried, for I was the second to tell her of such a dream, and the third to call her to the waters. His Spirit had called her first, When she had failed to respond to the drawing call, He had then sent two others to confirm what she already knew in her spirit: she was simply too busy. She was overloaded and way too tired to function, but she still had so much to do she could not see how to lay it all down. But the Lord knew. He knew she needed to come away and be refreshed and renewed. She was exhausted and Her beloved knew what she needed. She needed a time of still waters.

So, she repented and began to listen to the Fathers wooing, and I watched as one by one she began to lay down the balls she had been juggling, and began a journey with Him toward still waters.

In my minds eye I can see it so clearly - see the cares and responsibilities falling away like so many yesterdays - as she walks toward what she knows is there, but cannot touch as of yet. Then, as she catches sight of the water, I see her reaching down and sliding the shoes off of her feet. Walking barefoot, her head thrown back, she looks into the face of her Beloved, as her tired feet finally touch the crystal waters. Tears fall unchecked as the waters run through the weary places in her soul, making all things new.

She sits at the waters edge, soft grass welcoming, the fragrance of Presence surrounding her, as a million worries begin to wash away in the waters. Breath fills her for the first time in ages, as the One with the voice of many waters begins to sing over her.

She lies down on her left side, her left arm curled under her head. Her right hand skims the waters surface…

And my heart longs.

It is time, my friend, to seek out the still waters.