The Stubbly Fields of Childhood

This morning I took a walk across a newly mown hay field and I was instantly transported back to my childhood when so many summer days were spent traipsing across fields just like that one with my fishing rod in one hand and tackle box in the other.  When the prairie grass is cut short, the stubble sort of crunches easily underfoot, and that's the exact sound I heard this morning.  Of course there were also times back then when the grass was nice and tall and getting to a pond was more like wading waist deep in the ocean. 

Either way, the times were good.  The only care I had in the world was which lure to use:  the Mepps No. 2 Squirrel Tail spinner or the Midge-O-Rina?  Simple.  And I remember how the Lord used to speak gently to me in those days.  It's obvious now how He was leading me with cords of love.

A few decades later, and life is ... different.  I'm sure you understand.  However, the Lord still speaks to me gently, even though my heart is a bit toughened up in some places, and I need regular reminders to trust and not be afraid.  I'm just thankful that the Lord is consistent and faithful and I'm getting the feeling that He will be until the end.

It's The Difference That Makes The Difference

There's a difference between temptation and sin, you know.

Have you been there, in the middle of temptation, on the cusp of potential sin? That feeling like being right at the tippytop of the first hill of the roller coaster...you can see it coming. You're tired, you're hungry, you're alone, you're angry...you're in trouble. But it's helpful to remember that temptation is NOT sin. It's the heat of battle. So hang on. Keep throwing punches, swinging that Sword, and raising that Shield.

I love Luther's famous words, quoting other famous words: 

“It is impossible to keep the devil from shooting evil thoughts and lusts into your heart. But see to it that you do not let such arrows (Eph. 6:16) stick there and take root, but tear them out and throw them away. Do what one of the ancient fathers counseled long ago: ‘I cannot,’ he said, ‘keep a bird from flying over my head. But I can certainly keep it from nesting in my hair or from biting my nose off.’”

Great points Martin made there, and great points Mark Driscoll makes here...

Turn That Argument Around

There are more reasons to doubt the non-existence of God in the universe than to doubt His existence.  One example, as explained by Jim McGuiggan:

"But I wonder: how do unbelievers explain the presence of love in the world?  I've read responses to this question, but they don't fully satisfy me.  A world with evil in it raises questions about a good God, but a world with Jesus in it raises questions about no God.  A world with Nazis in it raises serious questions for believers, but a world with sacrificial love raises serious questions for unbelievers.

As long as there is Jesus; as long as there are loving friends, parents, husbands, and wives; as long as there are those who do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly...there are grounds for believing in God."

As fallen, rebellious humans, we naturally tend to scurry as fast as we can to deny the existence of God, blaming Him (even as we deny Him) for the deep disaster we see all around us, giving no quarter to any thought that reveals us as the culprits.

Joy and Sorrow Are This Ocean

Sometimes I get a little freaked out about where I am in life.  I have "hmm" moments when I try to sort out how things got to be the way they are.  Now that might sound like my life is some sort of train wreck or failure.  Not so.  To the contrary, I think my life is probably pretty normal and scores somewhere within the typical curve of the "heartache and happiness" grading scale.  It's just that as I reach different stages in life I'm amazed at all the little plot twists that have happened and are currently beginning to twist.

I'll admit that it can be scary.  It feels weird.  It feels different.  But the thing I always come back to is that even as the breadth of my experience grows, and the scope of my difficulties grows, the power of the Gospel (that is, my current comprehension of it) grows proportionately.  God has always been faithful to supply what I've needed in terms of faith and perseverance, mercy and forebearance.  He's going to get me through this.  And it's going to bring so much glory to His great Name in the end.

There's a wideness in God's mercy I cannot find in my own
And He keeps His fire burning To melt this heart of stone
Keeps me aching with a yearning Keeps me glad to have been caught
In the reckless raging fury That they call the love of God

Now I've seen no band of angels But I've heard the soldiers' songs
Love hangs over them like a banner Love within them leads them on
To the battle on the journey And it's never gonna stop
Ever widening their mercies And the fury of His love

Oh the love of God And oh the love of God The love of God

Joy and sorrow are this ocean And in their every ebb and flow
Now the Lord a door has opened That all Hell could never close
Here I'm tested and made worthy Tossed about but lifted up
In the reckless raging fury That they call the love of God

I Didn't Do It!

Random excerpt from one of my journals:

24 April, 08
Even my very love and desire for God, affection for theology, appetite for truth, are all gifts of God, placed in me by Him.  Every last bit of good is a work of God.  Surely, by myself I am utterly nothing. Understand this and worship.

This kind of realization all at once reminds me of my full depravity and total dependance upon the effectual call of God and His intention to keep me!

Food and Worship

"So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God." 1 Corinthians 10:31

I read that and imagine Paul pausing after the word "drink" and thinking, "Hmmmm...that list could go on and on.  Psh.  Let's go with WHATEVER you do..."

Matt Chandler has a good angle on the scope of Paul's intent here:

"God created everything, and what he created was good, but what he created to be good was not created as an end in itself but was given to us as good in order that we might be driven to worship him.  In other words, when you and I take a bite of food, that should spark worship in us - not a worship of food, of course, but of the Creator of food.  When you and I feel the warmth of our child hugging us, that should create worship in us.  When we feel the warmth of the sun on our faces, that should create worship. When we smell the rain, that should create worship...The goodness of creation is designed not to declare itself but to act as a signpost pointing heavenward."

And all of this majesty around us...it's just a whisper of His power.

The Breaks

Man, I love the music God gave Rich Mullins to write.  No one's music has ever stirred my heart like his.



Here is my heart take what you want
'Cause I have no use for it anyway
Well of all the stupid things I've ever said
This could be the worst may be the best
But those are the breaks
These are the bruises
And if I can't give myself away I'm the only one who loses
And I don't want to lose this

It is the sea that makes the sailor
And the land that shapes the sea
And I do not know yet what I am made of
Or all I may someday be
And it is the wood that makes a carpenter
It's the very tools of his trade
And it is love that makes a lover
And a cross that makes a saint

Here is my song, listen if you will
But I have no heart for it anymore
I just have half a mind to cut it loose
And if it sails off into the blue
Then I'll just let it soar
And the sky is better keeping
And I won't be any poorer
For giving it its freedom
And here's one for freedom

It is the sea that makes the sailor
And the land that shapes the sea
And I do not know yet what I am made of
Or all I may someday be
It is the wood that makes a carpenter
It's the very tools of his trade
And it is love that makes a lover
And a cross that makes a saint

Well, of all the stupid things I've ever said
This could be the worst may be the best
But those are the breaks

Fathers, Sons & Spiders

My oldest son and I both use Instagram.  I absolutely love it. It's a fun way to be instantly creative with your phone's camera (or other shots you've loaded onto your phone) and to share something funny or beautiful or whatever suits your fancy.  One of my favorite things to do is take pictures of a 3/4" tall Luke Skywalker figure I have in different places around the house...

There he is, after having vanquished our house beagle, aptly named Walker.

And now my son comes back into this little story.  Last week, we both posted astonishingly similar photographs within hours of each other.  He's graduated and moved out of the house, so there was no collusion going on here, I promise. Here they are, his above, mine below:

 

My son and I both have a strange affection for these hairy little jumping spiders. They're completely harmless, as most spiders in North America are, but these are oddly...cute.  Kinda like mini-tarantulas. Yeah, I know.  So anyway, I was struck by the fact that within the same 24 hour period, my boy and I both found fairly large specimens, caught them, and photographed them on our hands! 

Sometimes I think my son and I couldn't be any different, but then something like this reminds me that we're from the same stock and that there's quite of bit of "me" in "him".  How strangely alike we are! It puts a smile on a father's face. 

I'm hoping you're seeing the same parallel to another father/son relationship that I am.

There is so much in me that is starkly different from my heavenly Father, sometimes I wonder if we're related at all.  Then, every so often, I see glimpses of His character in me that's been passed on, and I'm encouraged.  I want to be more like Him, and I hope He's pleased.

 

How Piper Prunes Pride

If you'll listen to the first 60 seconds of the audio below, you'll hear part of John Piper's thoughts in response to the  question: How do you deal with pride in the ministry? I love his candid response.

 

The Bliss of Simplicity

If ignorance is bliss, you'd think I'd be happy all the time... 

Actually, I think simplicity is bliss.  Like having 30 minutes after the dinner dishes are washed to sit on my front porch with a cup of coffee and a book.  Like "act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with your God."  Now that's beautiful.  For some people, simplicity is forced upon their minds by age or genetics.  Things like dementia and Down Syndrome subdue the capacity of the human brain to perform at its blistering best; they also spare a person from the anxiety and stress most of us experience. I admit that I've envied these folks at times. 

Just this week I encountered two fantastic examples of this kind of simple beauty, and it reminded me, strangely enough, of a future time when all I'll know is a world of perfected beauty and simple love.

First example:  I met an elderly woman at a long term care facility a group of teens from our church visited last Sunday. Every one of our group who stop to meet this woman was greeted with a gigantic smile, a trembling hug, and was told "I love you" over and over again.  While we were singing, she sat in her chair, gently rocking and holding a little Kewpie doll swaddled in a tiny knitted blanket.  She stroked its hair and spoke to it like an adoring mother.  Blissfully unaware of past pain or present dread, at this point in her life, all this woman knows is love and affection.

Second example:  I work part time at a learning center in our county that caters to the educational needs of students who have a variety of educational challenges.  One of the students (we'll call him Bobby) is a gigantic brute of an 18 year old who has a certain cognitive deficiency similar to Down syndrome. Bobby naps the first class period of the day, and then gets to engage in simple tasks and activities for the rest of the day.  This week some of the students made their own lava lamps out of water bottles, vegetable oil, water, food coloring, and alka seltzer tablets.  We added oil to the empty bottles, then a little bit of water, which settle quickly to the bottom, and then drops of food coloring.  The colorful blobs settled to the bottom of the oil and sat on top of the water below.  After a minute or two, those blobs would begin to suddenly dissolve and burst into the water below, creating wonderful cascades of color. 

There was a point when Bobby became discouraged and was certain his drops of color would never dissolve into the water. But all of a sudden, WHOOSH, and beautiful blue swirls decorated Bobby's water bottle.  His response: a gasp of wonder with wide eyes and an exclamation of "Pretty!!" and then moments later "That's BEAUTIFUL!"

:)

Seeing the old woman and watching Bobby blessed me: it reminded me that the best things are the simple things, and that I'd be happier if I'd slow down a bit and enjoy them.

To Quote Matt Chandler...

Matt Chandler, on the focus of our affections:

"Every bit of those affections, every bit of that emotion, and every bit of that passion was given to us by God for God.  It was not given for basketball.

"Where is the nervousness in our guts when we're coming into an assembly of those pursuing God?  Where is it?  Well, it's on basketball. It's on football. It's on romance.  It's on tweeting and blogging.

Are you really going to believe we're not worthy of hell?

Thank God for his response to all this blasphemous nonsense:  the wrath-absorbing cross of Christ."   (excerpted from The Explicit Gospel)

Indeed.  Any further comments from me would be gilding the lily.  Well said, Matt.

Identify This Quote!

Who said it and when?

"A generation of Christians reared among push buttons and automatic machines is impatient of slower and less direct methods of reaching their goals.  We have been trying to apply machine-age methods to our relations with God.  We read our chapter, have our short devotions and rush away, hoping to make up for our deep inward bankruptcy by attending another gospel meeting or listening to another thrilling story told by a religious adventurer lately returned from afar."

For the answer, drag your mouse and select the blank area below:

From "The Pursuit of God" by A.W. Tozer in 1948!!! 

Righteously Ticked Off?

Making the rounds yesterday was the story of George Will's son Jon, who has Down Syndrome.  It really is a beautiful story (written by George), and worth five minutes of your time.  Part of it made me angry, though.  I mean it really ticked me off.  But the part that made me mad was only tangentially connected to John's story, a brief commentary on our society and the cruelty of sinful mankind.

I'll quote it here in a second, but first I'll add the context.  George explains how, near the time of Jon's birth, prenatal testing that could pinpoint Down Syndrome was coming into vogue.  Also, Jon was born just months before Roe v. Wade would open the door for the "casual destruction of pre-born babies." (Well put, George)

Here's the quote where my ire was exercised:

  "This era has coincided, not just coincidentally, with the full, garish flowering of the baby boomers’ vast sense of entitlement, which encompasses an entitlement to exemption from nature’s mishaps, and to a perfect baby. So today science enables what the ethos ratifies, the choice of killing children with Down syndrome before birth. That is what happens to 90 percent of those whose parents receive a Down syndrome diagnosis through prenatal testing."

90 PERCENT! Did that just state that 90% of pre-born babies "diagnosed" with Down Syndrome are aborted???  The judgment that will one day be meted out on that evil terrifies me.

All sin is evil and an affront to our holy God and He is perfectly just in whatever fashion He determines that sin should be punished ... but it just feels like for some things, that wrath will be especially hot.

My Birth Certificate

"We ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit..." Romans 8:23

Near the top of the list of "cool things I've read recently" comes from the book How The Gospel Brings Us All The Way Home by Derek W. H. Thomas:

"The word translated 'firstfruits' (Greek, aparche) was also used to describe the birth certificate of a free man.  The Spirit serves as our 'birth certificate' testifying that we belong to the family of God and, more especially, that we belong to the Father."

Just another nuance of meaning that reinforces the incredibly cool guarantee that the Holy Spirit represents in the life of the believer.  I have proof I'm a citizen of heaven and that God is my forever Father: the Holy Spirit, my birth certificate! (And there's no question of His authenticity...)