Aftermath

I still have a hard time believing that Texas got its ass kicked by some guy named Harvey. It isn't a tough enough name to bring down a state like Texas. It should have been Hurricane Clint or Hurricane Deathstar. That just needed to be said.

Once I finally had a moment to actually sit and think yesterday, I began to process the last week or so. That spilled over to the the last year, eighteen months, two years. In the last two years, we went through a citywide devastating flood in Columbia, SC. Then we moved across the country. Then my mom died. Then my Rheumatoid Arthritis flared out of control. All through that I battled severe depression. And now a region wide devastating flood in Houston. That is all in addition to the normal financial, psychological, and emotional stress involved in raising two teenagers and an active elementary kiddo - as well as watching a never-ending string of incidents making me believe the world has spun out of control. It has been a tumultuous, trying, and exhausting two years.

As I've tried to maneuver through this season, I have found it increasingly difficult to carry on. For the first time in my life, I have found myself asking questions that are quite uncomfortable. I have never been shy about my Christian faith. I have worked on church staff and am an ordained minister - although one who is not currently serving in that capacity. Throughout my life, I have lived synonymously with my faith. It is not something that I do weekly; it is woven into who I am. I have never resorted to prayer only in the toughest of moments. Attending church was not something done only as my world spiraled out of control. Yes, I allowed myself to drift in my ferocity of faith and I allowed things to enter my life that were against a Godly pursuit. But it was impossible to explain who I was to someone - to have them truly know me - without faith being a primary characteristic.

That faith has been tested and refined over the years. There were moments where I felt confused and abandoned. There were moments of startling clarity as I realized something I had been taught actually ran counter to the Bible. There were moments of intense anger over judgmental, hypocritical, legalistic people and their comments and behaviors. Through all of that, I could still separate the people from the faith. People are mean and stupid and selfish and misguided. They are going to misrepresent, misinterpret, and miscommunicate things. As long as I personally was in the right place, all that didn't matter.

The last two years have tested that. Yes, I have felt betrayed and abandoned by God's people. I have felt distant from church, hesitant to lower an ever-increasing barrier between me and others. But, more than that, I have felt betrayed and abandoned by God Himself. With each passing disaster, it became harder and harder to cling to my faith. Watching the already financially struggling city of Columbia suffer the blow of a devastating flood pained me. Hearing tales of vans plowing through crowds, gunmen shooting up clubs (in my beloved Orlando, no less), and bombers murdering innocent children sickened me.  Seeing my mom - this woman of faith - slowly deteriorate from unbeatable cancer silenced me. Crying out in pain and loneliness and hearing only a hollow echo instead of comforting words crippled me. A few mere months ago, I was a shell of myself. I literally sat weeping uncontrollably in a closet  I felt alone and worthless, ignored by friends and neglected by the God I served my whole life.

When it came to the time of me having to see that same destruction Columbia faced come to an even larger Texas region?  Instead of it knocking me further into a hole, it somehow emboldened me. I found my voice again.  I know that the series of posts I put up on Facebook consisted of silliness and jokes laced throughout the serious information. But that was a big step for me. I hadn't been able to produce anything even on that scale for so long. So what does that have to do with anything?

I am a story teller. I am the product of two storytellers. It is a part of me as much as my O+ blood, my black hair, and my light sheen from donut grease seeping up through my pores. It is something God gifted me with, and something that thrives the most when I am the most at ease with Him. It is little wonder than my voice fell silent so much in the last two years.  It still flashed when I was teaching for Kaplan or working on an event for my church (one of the rare times I dragged myself there). But mostly it felt like a fire that couldn't stay burning. It would spark and sputter and smoke and then fizzle. But during this last challenge, I found myself finally understanding that silence is not the same as abandonment. A lack of contact doesn't equal a lack of concern. And I could not be further away from being unloved.

Time and again, we found ourselves escaping tragedy without realizing it.  We came to recognize that the house we chose last May was the only house we looked at that remained (largely) unaffected by Harvey. We started getting supplies three days before the storm arrived, so we had everything we needed during those initial waves of rain and tornado warnings. When we had to evacuate on Monday, we could not reach the first place we headed. Each road we turned onto was rapidly filling with water - Heather would sometimes realize it mere feet in front of her and swing a U-Turn away from danger. That hotel and the area surrounding it ended up being flooded and isolated - and still is. The next hotel we headed to was full. It also ended up flooded. We landed at a crappy Crossland hotel and managed to wrangle their last room with two beds. We found supplies to supplement the ones we brought from home. And then we went out the next day and got other supplies to flesh out our anticipated long stay. Instead, we were able to map an escape to our friends Andrew and Natalie. As we were packing, I asked the family next door if they could use some of our food we had bought. They were a family with five kids who had evacuated from a flooded out region near Katy. When we realized that, we gave them all the food we had bought and most of what we had brought. We gave them the comforters we purchased, the snacks (their kids cheered), and even the Blu-Ray player we had gotten. Being able to help someone else while we were escaping our own challenges?  That was something special. We made it to our new place of refuge and experienced such generosity and love. And we also realized that the hotel we escaped was now isolated and blocked due to flooding - which was shocking, since it was fine when we left.

In addition, we were flooded (pun intended) by people offering us shelter, checking on us, trying to find out if we needed help. Twenty people offered us houses to stay in. TWENTY!  One day, between my phone and Heather's, the text notification chimes were ringing nearly non stop. As if Andrew and Natalie weren't generous enough by letting us disrupt their lives, they wouldn't let us help with groceries or a pizza payment. People from literally every era of my life contacted me at some point to check on us. My coworkers at Kaplan were incredible in covering for me and checking on me and doing everything they could to help from far away. You probably don't realize how healing this was. I have been so crippled by feeling alone. I felt like I only mattered to people when I could do something for them. Day after day I felt like I was slipping away and no one cared. I felt invisible. All I was good for was to drive kids places and do a lousy job keeping up with household chores - and virtually show up for work. If I disappeared, no one outside of my house would even care. I was completely floored to see that was not close to true. Each point of contact strengthened me. Every time someone sought me out to check on me or offer help, it further pushed away the dark.

All of that combined to pull me out of the dark shroud I had enveloped myself with. I recognized I had hardly been alone or abandoned. I cannot express how incredible it is to awake to this reality. I am not saying that the tragedy around me is better or that "it was all worth it for me to..." This is awful and sickening - the mark of a broken and twisted world crying out. But on a personal front, which really is all I can speak on, this event was renewing for me. That will allow me to start looking outward again, seeing where I can make a difference. Instead of being the death knell for my faith, it served to awaken it and rekindle it. I am not the man I was two years ago. My voice has been restored and I have a message to send. I have a hint of what it will be, and it thrills and frightens me. I have been both softened by trial and hardened as well. I am gentler and angrier. I am ready to fight for what is right, to oppose injustice and rage against wrongdoers. A different storm has broken inside.

Beloved

Last Sunday we were down in Orlando and attended our old church.  It was great to be able to see our friends from before the Tallahassee relocation.  And I also enjoyed being in the service.  It is a different style of preaching and worship than what we experience up here every Sunday.  Sometimes it is good to go to a different church every so often - it kind of jars you out of complacency.

Anyway, during the sermon, Pastor Byron was talking about The Transfiguration story from Matthew 17 (and Mark 9 and Luke 9).  The story itself wasn't what hit me.  During the story at one point, God speaks down from Heaven and says, "This is my beloved Son..."  Byron went on to explain that beloved means "priceless and unique."  When he said that, I started thinking about that word.

My name means "Beloved of God."  I like my name - always have.  I know some kids imagine changing their name.  But I like my name.  I don't like shortening it to Dave or anything.  I think part of that is the association with King David in the Bible - one of my favorite characters.  And part of it is that I learned what my name meant very early on in life.  When your name means something like "beloved of God," it is hard to think it needs changed.  I mean, can you get better than that?  I can understand if your name meant something dumb.  But I like my meaning.

Hearing that beloved means priceless and unique, really struck home.  I am priceless to God.  I am unique to Him.  I started thinking.  Over the years in the church, I have heard so many sermons and lessons about how we are these small weak things.  Pastors almost go over the top to establish the fact that we are pathetic.  We have nothing worthwhile to offer.  We are almost like scum.  God's bigness is talked about a lot - from Francis Chan to Louie Giglio.  In addition, God doesn't need us.  He will see His plan realized with our without us.

There is truth in this.  Paul calls us worms and talks about how our goodness is like wound wrappings.  But that doesn't really take into account how God treats us.  Look at Creation.  God doesn't lump people in with everything else - just another cog in the universe.  We are special.  We are the only creature that God wanted to have a relationship with.  We are the only ones Christ died for.  God does see us as priceless and special.  He loves us and desires to be with us.  Isn't that amazing?

I know there are some people who have trouble believing in God.  I never really have.  I mena, just look around.  It is pretty hard to believe that this incredible world just randomly popped up.  The reality of God, to me, is not a hard concept.  The thing that really is hard to wrap my mind around is the fact that this Creator of the Universe, this huge massive God, wants me to spend time with Him.  He wants me to talk to Him and pray to Him and sing songs to Him.  That is just bizarre.

Take President Obama.  I don't give a warbling hoot what you feel politically, if the President were to call you, it would blow your mind.  Now imagine this President kept on calling you, emailing you, sending you presents.  The "leader of the free world" wants to spend time with you - just some random person.  Things like that just don't happen.  God wanting to do that is even more unbelievable.  But that is exactly what He does.

He sees me as priceless and unique.  Yes, there are other people with similar skill sets and personalities.  But there is no one else exactly like me.  My combination of talents, gifts, passions, dislikes, experiences, opinions, friends, history, family, decisions make me completely different than anyone on this planet.  My wife and I are very close.  We spend a ton of time together and have more than ten years of marriage in our history.  But look at how different we are.  I mean, we only have 269 friends in common on Facebook.  That's a lot, but that means we both have almost 400 people different.  Even twins have a long list of things that make them different - even if the only difference was their own perspective on shared history.

God made me for a unique purpose.  He has a relationship with me.  I'm not some worthless weasel that has ingratiated himself to a ruler.  He chased me.  He called me.  He wants to work with me and use me. And He made me in such a way that I will have an impact on my world that no one else can have.  I am His beloved - his priceless and unique one.

I don't know about you, but there are definitely days when that thought makes all the difference.  You may have an exciting life with high stakes meetings and million dollar negotiations.  But for right now, most of my days are spent trying to manage three kids in tiny apartment and not get overrun with dishes, toys, and laundry - all while staying sane and controlled.  That is hardly something that would draw the attention of a big shot, let alone God.  To know that even in this place in life, when it is easy to feel useless and alone, God Himself looks down and sees me as a priceless and unique part of His heart.  That's one heck of a name to have.

Was Jesus Funny?

When we look at the picture of Jesus painted by the Gospels, we have an incomplete picture.  We don't know what he looked like - aside from being from the Middle East and having a beard.  Sure, we have artist renditions of Jesus - but we have no way of knowing if they are accurate.  (Actually, we can be pretty sure that they are NOT.)  Personally, I think that this was on purpose - so we would not worship an image of Jesus.  Rather, we should direct our allegiance to the true Christ.

Most of the time, I don't mind the lack of physical description of Jesus.  I have an active imagination and can generate a picture pretty easily in my mind.  I've done the same thing with regular books for decades.  But there is one big thing that is never described in the Gospel accounts that does bother me.  Why don't we ever see Jesus laugh?  We see Him cry (Luke 19, John 11:35).  We see Him angry (Matthew 21, John 2).  We see him compassionate, distressed, in authority.  We see him teaching, healing, healing, lecturing, walking on water, eating, having dinner.  But we never see him laughing.

This has actually been a difficult thing for me to understand over the years.  I like to laugh.  Sure, some people over the years have accused me of being negative or unemotional.  But that usually is when I am stressed or trying to get ready for a speaking event or something.  I really do like to laugh.  And I like to make people laugh.  When I am speaking at an event, it is a pretty sure bet that the attenders will be laughing at some point.  That is part of who I am.  And so I have really wrestled with why we never see Jesus laugh, smile, grin (despite what Monty Python sketches say), chuckle, or anything of the sort.  He never tells a joke.  He never laughs at a situation.

He is described as a Man of Sorrows.  We know that the lostness of the people around Him broke His heart.  He was about His Father's business.  And I guess that is where I have difficulties.  Did He not have the luxury to laugh?  Was it considered a frivolous activity that was beneath Him?  Does that mean that we shouldn't laugh and joke?  I know the Bible speaks critically inappropriate or coarse humor.  But we don't see a whole lot about laughter.  Sarah laughed at the promise of a baby in her old age - but that wasn't a positive action.  Proverbs is pretty derisive of those labelled "fools" or "jesters."  If Jesus didn't laugh, should we?  I mean, lots of people tell us we should ask What Would Jesus Do?  If we never see Jesus laughing, does that mean we shouldn't either?

This post is certainly not meant to be trivial or disrespectful, so I hope you don't think it is.  I really want to know, did Jesus laugh?  Was He funny?  And if He was, why was that character trait completely left out of everything we read about Him?  Was it because it would diminish His authority?  Would it undermine His Godliness?  I mean, I could see descriptions of His using the facilities as eroding His status.  But laughing?

We know that Jesus was fully man.  He was born.  We see Him as a boy at the temple.  Then we see Him as a fully grown man.  So, he is a person - a real man.  As human, laughter is natural.  From very early in life, babies smile and laugh.  That is one of the milestones for kids.  There's not many better things in life than watching a baby laughing.  Children laugh like crazy at all kinds of things.  You don't have to teach them that.  It is just a natural part of life.  If Jesus was fully human, then He had to laugh.  That is part of being human.

The problem I have is that He hung out with twelve guys every day for over three years.  Is it possible that those guys never laughed together?  They never busted out about some goofy story or something silly someone did?  These were guys.  And they weren't highfalutin learn-ed types either.  They were regular old guys - fishermen mostly.  I don't know many fishermen who didn't bust each other's chops on a regular basis.  That is pretty universal with guys.  They hang out and bust on each other and laugh a lot.

You mean to tell me that none of those guys ever cracked one off around the fire late at night?  No one ever stepped in donkey droppings?  Someone didn't trip over their robe and fall into the water?  Remember, these are twelve guys wandering around the countryside.  They ate fish.  There had to be some gastric instability going on.  Last weekend, we were discussing this at a youth retreat I was at.  One of the kids (a boy, of course) said, "One of the great things about being a guy is that from infancy until old age, a fart is always funny."  It's true.  Guys just laugh at that stuff.  (Remember, there are artificial fart machines out there and people buy them - probably all males.)  My three year old giggles when he toots.  I have so many stories from my past about groups of guys trying to gas each other out.  This never happened?  Personally, I believe it did.  And, I would like to think that Jesus participated in it.  He probably was really good at it.  So much so, that the other guys didn't want Him to play.  "No, don't ask Him to play.  Remember, even the winds obey Him.  It's not a fair contest."

In addition, children were drawn to Jesus.  He welcomed them.  I have three kids.  You know what kind of person they don't gravitate towards?  A gloomy unsmiling person.  Kids love happy people.  They like to be around adults who have a pleasant disposition, a smile on their face.  Would children have surrounded Jesus just because He was God?  Probably not.  There had to be something there.  And with all the talk of how we should be filled with joy, Jesus had to be joyful.  Right?  Joy is supposed to be something that flows through us - He couldn't have been different, could He?

Certainly, I am not trying to paint Jesus as a clown.  He brought some serious discussions into play.  You could definitely say that he was a downer at times - talking about His death, promising that people would hate His followers, saying you had to give up homes and families to follow Him.  Those were not cheery statements.  When He was knocking over tables, sweating blood, chewing out the Pharisees, He was not a jovial fellow.  It's just that few things really bring out your humanity more than humor.  The ability to laugh at yourself, laugh at and with other people, make people laugh.  Those are valuable human characteristics - or at least I have always thought so.

I guess part of what makes this issue so hard for me is that so many times when I am speaking, the people listening spend a lot of time laughing.  (And, no, it is NOT always AT me.)  I try very hard to allow God to flow through my words.  I aim to be flexible and receptive to His guidance as far as what I say.  I don't rely too heavily on outlines and frequently find myself using examples and stories completely on the fly.  I have always felt that when I am at my best, it is when I personally do the least and let God do the most.  If that is actually true, then it would follow that God uses the humor as well.  It puts people at ease, helps them to listen and engage, and it even assists in understanding what is being said by painting a picture.  I cannot be ultra-serious all the time when I am teaching and preaching.  I have tried.  I have aimed to better fit the mold of a traditional pastor, wearing gravitas and forcefully pounding points home.  But it never works.  It turns into something far different.

I have to believe that God values humor - I mean, He uses irony frequently, which can be funny.  The foolish shame the wise.  Our weakness makes us stronger.  The least end up first.  And He did create the platypus.  I just wish we could have seen Jesus laugh.  Maybe He is saving it for when He can really cut loose - when He is hosting the biggest dinner ever.  I think that is one of the coolest things to see - God laughing.  And I hope that when He sees me, He will say, "Well done, my good and faithful servant.  You really made me smile."  That would be the best.

Name That Tune

First of all, I wanted to address my throng of Facebook acolytes. I'm sure you are wondering why I have been putting up so many Notes lately. Well, I found a way to link my blog to my Facebook account, so any time I post on the blog it creates a Notes. That way Facebook people can read the blog without going to the blog. Now to the handful (literal) of you who read the blog on its own, the same great blogginess will be posted on the davidstaples.blogspot.com site. It just is also streamed to Facebook. What does that mean? There are now thousand and thousands and tens of thousands of new readers thanks to RSS feeds and Facebook. (I hope at least ONE of you got that reference.)

I know that many of you were thrilled to see me back to my powerful blog posts like yesterday's Tallahassee restaurant assessment. But, the reality is that I can't deliver that kind of earth-shattering posts all the time. I am just one man. So today, you have to deal with sappy, reflective, spiritual thoughts. As always, bear with me. The idiocy will return in short order.

This week was a little weird for me. Things were going well for the most part. Gabe has been fighting sleep like it was a pack of wolves. But I have been keeping up with the chores, having fun cooking, actually getting Defender work done. I've just been tired physically and emotionally. Part of the problem is the oppressive heat - which just saps my energy immediately. My Rheumatoid Arthritis has been acting up for a couple of months now, so I have a lower level of strength to begin with each day. Last night we had Family Night for VBS at Immanuel Baptist Church. The kids had gone there this week, which gave us a chance to try the church. They had a complete blast. Last night we got to go hear them sing and show what they had learned. Afterwards there was a cookout and bouncy houses.

Carrying Gabe there, standing in the heat, walking up the hills. All of it just really wore on me. I had been stressing all day, too, about the fact that Heather's first test is Monday. That means she is going to spend a lot of time this weekend studying. Weekends have always been a big deal with our family. We try to protect them so we can have family time. But test time means that the weekend is compromised - understandably so, seeing how much work Heather has. So I was tired, feeling down, hurting physically, and honestly a little lonely. This morning we overslept and had to rush to get everything done. They water at our complex was turned off at 9am to fix a busted water main - so we were really on a time crunch.

After I got the kids dropped off, I checked the mail. There was a letter from ICS (the school I taught at) with my "end of year gift" from the principal. $30 in iTunes cards. iTunes cards are one of my absolute favorite gifts. I get to go on the online site and pick from movies and music and television shows. It is just awesome. When I get right down to it, iTunes and Apple are my two favorite stores. So while Gabe was feasting on Blues Clues, I got to play on iTunes. I downloaded some free television shows and a $2.49 Christian music sampler. I was debating about a few different titles and decided to get Travis Cottrell's new "Jesus Saves LIVE" concert album.

I love Travis Cottrell. First of all, he led music at a few conferences I went to with the college ministry I was running. He just had a great heart and a wonderful way of leading worship. His guitarist, Benji Cowart, was in my seminary classes. As he has become more popular, it really seems like he has remained grounded and humble. I just like his worship style and his CDs. I downloaded the album and burned a copy to listen to in the car on the way to pick up the kids. The last song on the album was "In Christ Alone." There are two different songs by that name. There is the one sung by Michael English and then Brian Littrell. It is a great song. But then there is the one sung by Travis Cottrell and Avalon. They both are great, but the Cottrell version is one my all time favorite songs.

I started listening to the album, but skipped back to the last song, which was "In Christ Alone." I was singing with the song and within a minute I was just crying. I couldn't help it and really couldn't stop. I don't know why. I guess the mixture of everything going on just really hit me when the song was playing. But it was also the song itself. The words are so powerful - and they really ministered to me. Here are the lyrics:

In Christ alone my hope is found.
He is my light, my strength, my song.
This Cornerstone, this solid ground,
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace;
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease;
My Comforter, my All in All,
Here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone, who took on flesh,
Fullness of God in helpless babe.
This gift of love and righteousness,
Scorned by the ones He came to save.
‘Til on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied.
For every sin on Him was laid,
Here in the death of Christ I live.

There in the ground His body lay.
Light of the world by darkness slain.
Then bursting forth in glorious Day,
Up from the grave He rose again.
And as He stands in victory,
Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me.
For I am His and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

On Christ the solid Rock I stand.
All other ground is sinking sand.
All other ground is sinking sand.

On Christ the solid Rock I stand.
All other ground is sinking sand.
All other ground is sinking sand.

No guilt in life, no fear in death,
This is the power of Christ in me.
From life’s first cry to final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny.
No power of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand.
‘Til He returns or calls me home,
Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand.

The thing that I needed to be reminded of is the centrality of Christ in all of . . . this stuff. He is my hope. He is my salvation. He is my victory. He is the strength and power I need to survive everything this world throws at me. He is the One who has crafted my path in life. No one can take me away from Him. No one will break His love for me. He is the only One who will always be there for me. But beyond that, He is my reason for living. He is why I even try. He is my everything. When I am joyful and enjoyable to be around, it is because of the joy He has given me. If I teach well or preach in a stirring fashion, it is because He gave me the words to say.

Some people may feel this is stupid or foolish. And I know that some people I am friends with will hate my stance on this. But I can't deny it or apologize for it. It is simply what makes me who I am. If you are my friend, if you think highly of me, the reason for that is because I believe in Christ - because He is my central focus in life. It is because of my faith - not in spite of it. If I didn't have that, I would be a dark and moody and cutting and rude person. I have seen that side of me take hold before. But my desire to live for Christ overwhelms that. It is why I love my wife and want to serve her and help her. It is why I am patient with my kids and want to teach them. It is why I am generous with my friends and want to have fun with them. It is everything. That song drives all of that home more than almost anything I have heard. It was a good reminder to me.

I needed to hear all of those things. I needed a good cry. I needed to remember it is not about me, but who lives in me. I needed hope and encouragement. I needed those iTunes cards.

Bread

I don't want to be impressed any more.  I don't want to be blown away, have my senses stirred, see something incredible.   I am not looking for a jolt or a charge or a kick.  I guess I have finally crossed the point in my life to where I am beyond being entertained and where I want to be challenged.  If you want to get me talking, don't have a huge production with lights and sounds.  Don't bring a real live elephant into the auditorium.  Don't try to get me hooked on the cult of celebrity pastors.  

If you want to get my heart pumping, share something new I haven't heard before.  Don't recycle someone else's point of view.  Find a new way to present the Gospel.  Preach with power.  I'm not going to be impressed by your shows and spectacles.  My heart won't be stirred by amazing contrived music by professional warblers.  I want genuine worship.

You want to know what moves me now?  Mark Driscoll's sermon series on Ruth - something I have never ever heard anyone address in such a powerful way.  Or, let me listen to Tommy Nelson's first sermon after missing eight months with clinical depression - the fact he even admitted it in today's "the pastor is a gleaming statue" world is shocking enough.  Give me a book like John MacArthur's Tale of Two Sons - a unique approach to the Prodigal Son story complete with a shocking finale.  Let me hear Chris Sligh's CD and hear songs about redemption.  Or, better yet, let me worship with Exodus International and experience what people who truly understand salvation do when they praise God.

I want fresh bread.  I want people who come up with a new way to make filling and nutritious food.  Jim Henry, in his last sermon as pastor of First Baptist Orlando, said how in his career spanning decades he only preached the same sermon twice.  Twice!  He said he saw it as his job to always bring fresh bread to the congregation.  That picture stuck with me.  When I finish sermons and books like the ones I mentioned, it is almost like finishing my ravioli lasagna or my wife's blueberry pie.  It is satisfying and filling.  It was good to the taste and good for the body.  THAT is what I want now.  The problem with most of what passes for "Christianity" - especially the "cutting edge" stuff - is that it actually isn't producing bread at all.  It is just making fancy packaging.

As we know, most people in a store can be fooled by fancy packages.  I fall for it all the time.  But a true connoisseur knows better.  He knows that what is inside makes it special.  Unfortunately, most people that are exposed to stores/churches don't know that.  So they fall for whatever looks and sounds and packages itself best.  "Look this bag has a hologram on it!"  They don't realize the bread inside is flat and crushed and void of nutrition.  "This package is water-proof."  What does that matter?  Are you going to be floating your bread?

It is like when someone comes back from these big conferences.  "They had five DJs spinning albums at the same time!"  Uh, ok.  Did you learn anything useful?  "They had a live elephant and a live donkey in the auditorium!"  Why?  What was the point, except to prove just how "radical" that group is?  Where is the nutrition?  Where is the quality?  I know, writing this I run the risk of being labelled out of touch.  That is usually what happens to someone who gets upset with DJs and elephants.  They don't know what the people want.  They aren't in touch with culture.  They can't have an impact on society.  Really?  Would Jesus have been impressed by the elephant?  If he had wandered into the Temple that fateful day and seen five dueling DJs, would He have been in awe?  My guess?  He would knocked over those five turntables AND the microphones.  

That is the thing about Jesus - He knew how to make sure people got fed.  He gave out bread.  And it was hearty and filling and wonderful.  It wasn't packaged in some fancy color changing wrapper.  It was just awesome.  And that is what I want to serve and eat in my house, my church, my job.  I'm tired of the trapping.  Give me some bread.

Timing is Everything

There are a ton of cliches out there. But this one is proving itself to be very true. Timing, truly is everything. The longer I live, the more I realize that it is not so much WHAT happens and WHEN it happens. You can find examples all over the place.

• David Tyree doesn't somehow catch that ball on his helmet in the Super Bowl last year on the game winning drive and he's just another roster cut victim this summer instead of a hero. The Patriots go 19-0. The 1972 Dolphins have to get real jobs.
• Barack Obama decides to run for Senate in 2010 instead of 2004 and he doesn't get invited to be the keynote speaker at the Democratic Convention in 2004. He doesn't get a ton of national exposure. Clooney doesn't endorse him.  Oprah doesn't endorse him.  He doesn't win the nomination. Hillary wins going away over Edwards.
• I don't lean back into the van to put something on the seat when getting ready to fuel up, I get out well before my door mysteriously swings closed and my thumb doesn't get crushed in the door. Timing. If I lived my entire life two seconds behind what I did, and I go from being a Klutz Supreme to being a Close Call Artist.

Anyway. Timing is Everything. I applied for a job teaching at a private school in the area. I had my first interview. I had tons of recommendations. Everything looked great. Another application turned in her stuff right before the deadline. She had 15 years of experience. She's now the new Department Head and I'm still looking for a job. Timing.

This becomes a very difficult concept for us to deal with. We live in a time-constrained world. Everything is about time with us. We constantly have a clock running on us. We only have so many hours between when we wake up and go to bed to get our stuff done. And the more stuff that gets dumped on us, the harder it is to feel like we succeeded. So we are constantly stressed and worried, hoping that time works in our favor.

I think that the whole time issue is the worst when we are waiting for something. I can be working or surfing on the internet and time will just roll on. I won't sit there and be conscious of the time ticking away. But if I am in a doctor office, you better believe I know how long I was waiting. My cell phone decided to flip out this week. So I spent about six hours dealing with repair people, sales people, untrained store employees to get it fixed - and then to resync everything once I got a replacement. I knew how much time it wasted.

As anyone who reads this blog or knows me is aware of, I have been waiting and praying for my ministry to take off like I want and need it to. And I am keenly aware of how long it has been. And I wrestle between having faith that things will work out and being miserable at another day going by without an answer. I know you all can relate - it could be waiting on a baby, a job, a spouse, a salvation. Things that are important can take forever. And we hate waiting.

The big thing to remember is that God is not limited by time. He lives outside of our time constraints. He sees the long term approach. The individual blips and bumps don't affect Him. In addition, He sees the ending. So He has a totally different perspective. He knows that there are times He needs to make us wait because the timing is not right. We think it is because we think we are ready - but there is something that is not ready yet. It could be someone else that we are going to interact with is not ready yet. So we sit there frustrated at the wait, and God sits there telling us to be patient and wait because it isn't time yet.

Those of us with kids can understand. Ever tell a kid to wait on dinner when they are hungry? How did that go? My kids will come and tell us that they are "starving." Dinner will be in the oven and not ready yet. But they want it NOW because they are hungry. "I'M HUNGRY! WAAAA!" We know that if we give them that chicken that they will probably get sick and die because it is not fully cooked. But they would go grab it and cram it in their mouths if we didn't stop them. I know this principle, but I forget it all the time when I am in the midst of waiting. I almost have to repeat the mantra: "It isn't time. It isn't time." I just hope that I can learn to wait until the time is right.

On a side note -- I have been thinking about this blog and my writing a lot lately. I am in the process of writing a new book for Defender. Some days I feel like I have so many things swirling around in my head that I have trouble focusing for my work. Today it hit me that just like many things, I need to warm up for my day. That is why I am going to try to write each morning on the blog as my preparation for the day. We'll see how that goes.

Orbit

While Heather was studying for the MCAT, she came across a really interesting tidbit in the Physics section.  For those of you who are drawn to those Dark Arts of science and physics, you can go to this link and read a more official description of what I'm talking about -- and then explain it to me.

Anyway, she mentioned that an object in orbit is technically in a perpetual state of falling.  It would hit the surface of the item it is orbiting around, but that item is also moving.  So it keeps falling and falling.  I had heard this before, but I had filed under the category of "Unimportant Mind Clutter" - you know, like old locker combinations, old phone numbers, and the location of my Social Security card.  And where I was going with this.  Oh yeah...

So an object in orbit is continually falling.  For it to stop this process, it has to speed up and escape the pull to move away or slow down and crash into the surface.  Pretty interesting, for a science concept.  But, of course, my mind starting running and I thought that this actually is a great picture of a very biblical teaching.  In Luke 9:23, we are told to daily pick up our cross and follow Christ.  It is like we have to die every day to sin, to the world, to the pull of other things.  We must be willing to crucify ourselves, give up control of our own lives, and put our faith and trust in God.

It similar to being in orbit.  It is like we must daily keep ourselves falling - trusting in God and His wisdom, love, and direction.  I am learning that the Christian walk is a balance.  You want to find the place where you are continually in this "orbit" around the "Son" - (yeah, I went there).  If we give ourselves too much power, we break orbit and go flying off on our own.  This usually gets us lost and into trouble.  If we lose focus, and stop applying ourselves, we crash due to depression or doubt or sin.

Pretty interesting?  I thought it was.  I can easily see this in myself - especially now.  As things are rough, it is easy to lose that orbit.  Over the past few months, I have found myself crashing in a wreck of self pity or anger more times that I want to admit.  I get so disillusioned by what is going on and just slam to the ground.  Or, I find myself saying, "FINE!  I'll do it myself then."  And I gun the engines and go shooting off into empty space.  I have no idea where I'm going or what I'm going to do when I get there.  

Fortunately, God is big enough to pull us back in and pick us up and help us get back on track.  And then we can get back into orbit.  Another neat tie in to this is how the moon is in orbit around earth (and therefore, also technically around the sun).  It has no light of its own, only what it reflects from the sun.  You could think about how we are supposed to be reflecting the light of the Son to the lost and dark world - like the moon.  But we can only do that when we are in the right place in orbit.  Best physics lesson I ever had.

Where Did It Go?

Sometimes I just wonder where it went. I remember a time when I was so passionate about praying. It was when I lived in Tampa and worked at the church there. I was even the staff member in charge of the prayer ministry. I would meet with lay leaders in that ministry every week and pray. I would meet and pray with my student leadership every week. It was a major part of my life. I remember seeing unbelievable things happen during that time - things that I don't tell people about because it is hard for some people to actually accept they happened. Things that still freak me out now. I was so moved by the verses about Elijah and how he was just a normal dude who prayed and it didn't rain for 3 years. (I guess all the smoke this morning made me think about all of this.)

But that is gone. It went away a long time ago. And no matter how often I think about praying, or try to get back in the swing of things, I can't get myself to get back to that place I was then. I pray with my kids before they go to sleep. We pray before meals. I try to remember to pray with the kids in the car on the way to school. And every so often I toss up some prayers during the day. But there is not that intense seeking of God's face.

It doesn't make sense either. Now, with working at a non-profit without a steady source of income, trying to find bookings and ministry partners, the stakes are higher than ever. I know that. But I still can't get myself to do what I need to do. Sure I pray like crazy every single month when our money runs out. And I pray like crazy when the stress of month after month of not having enough weighs so hard on my wife she breaks down in tears. And I know God provides - we have never missed a bill or a meal. But those things we need keep getting put off until you can't ignore them. And then a month like this one comes along - the perfect storm of financial ruin. Salary is less than half of what we need . . . tax return has to fill in blanks and barely will . . . everyone gets sick and we get hit with hundreds of dollars in medical bills . . . five weddings over five weeks (two of which I am in, which adds more expenses) . . . summer comes and kids need clothes again.

So I pray about that - I cry about that. But it feels empty. And there is no miraculous solution. Yes, the tax return came three and half weeks early, which will cover most stuff. But we look at June with nothing coming down the revenue pike, and we know that it was a temporary fix. So I'll pray about that, but....

I remember charging the throne back in Tampa. I would pray ridiculous stuff and then stand there with mouth agape as it happened. In a lot of ways, it was the worst time of my life. I was watching the first church I ever worked for start a series of mistakes that ultimately would force me to leave. I was single and lonely and confused. My dad had died a few months earlier. But my prayer life was insane. I remember going to two different summer youth camps that year - and watching God just show up in unbelievable ways at both. One of my students was there as a counselor - and would not participate in the worship services. He was going through a lot and was getting very hardened. One night, the Spirit was so strong in the service and this guy stood there with his arms crossed, glaring at the stage. I started to pray that God would make him sing. I prayed for about ten minutes. I looked up and could tell the guy was uneasy. He started coughing and choking, like something was trying to force itself out of his mouth. Then he burst into tears and started singing, all that hardness melting away.

I just stood there staring. And now it seems so far away. I pray for provision, but it trickles in. I pray for guidance and wisdom, but feel like I only have a match lighting my path. I pray for opportunities for Defender, but get just enough to give us hope - not enough to keep things going regularly. What am I doing wrong? What happened? Can I ever get that back? Will I ever be able to do what it takes to get back there? I don't know. I have to get there - everything depends on it.