God
I'm hanging my hat on this one
"Who is in the White House is not as important as Who is on the White Throne." --Stewart Briscoe [Via Mike.]
You never know
Dr. Wess Stafford, President and CEO of Compassion:
"The cure to cancer might be in the slums of Kenya or Indonesia." In other words, you don't know what the children of today are capable of tomorrow, how God may use someone like me, someone like you, now to change the lives of scores, hundreds, thousands, possibly millions, years from now, just because we help change the life of one child today. Please consider sponsoring a child.
The last thing Jesus needs...
"The last thing Jesus needs is the State. Stupid Christians like James Dobson and Pat Roberton like D.C. more than grace ... sad."
New hat
In preparation for the mission trip I'm going on next week to build houses in Juarez, Mexico, I picked up a Panama Jack cowboy hat at Wal-Mart earlier this evening for a mere ten dollars.
Click on the photo to see a larger version.
The Juarez trip can be tough on gear (the boots I wore last year won't be making a return trip), but I figure for ten bucks, I won't worry if the hat doesn't go another year. (And yes, a backup hat will be packed, just in case.)
What's the goal?
Moments like this are reminders for me that the songs and trappings of Christian culture are not the hope of the world--Jesus is! We need to make him known. We need to love and seek to serve the world around us through prayer, through faithful evangelism, and through Christ-like service of those in need. Our goal is not building a more air-tight evangelical bubble. Neither should our goal be hoping that our subculture will burst out into the broader culture to great acclaim.
Instead, our goal should be to proclaim Christ and him crucified to the people we go to the school with, work with, and live next door to. Our goal should be to preach the gospel and live lives worthy of that gospel. Our goal should be to use our gifts in every sector of society so that God is glorified.
He exists and loves us
[A]nother way I'm convinced He exists and loves us -- on the most base of levels -- is that He hasn't simply wiped us off the face of the earth. I don't struggle with the whole "why does God let bad things happen" -- that's simple to dismiss, and maybe I will here one day. What I'm getting at is that He has such enormous self-control -- if I were Him, there would only be a scant few humans left on the planet.
It's one of two things: He loves as much as He says He does, or He doesn't give a rat's behind about us. With much thanks I know wholeheartedly that the latter isn't true, so once again I'm amazed at how patient God is with us, and how He loves us, though we pain Him so.
Who they are and what they're about
Brent McKinney, A Few Thoughts On Jeremiah:
I think absolutes exist. In other words, if we "miss the mark," there's an implication that there's a mark to hit. A truth that is "right" and to wander away from that is, by implication, "wrong."
I think like the "1d1" definition regarding sin, that there's a "way" to go and to deviate from that--wander away-- is somehow tied to your identity as a human being. That we "miss" or "lose" our very selves. My guess is that we're created in the image of God Himself, and to wander away from that...or get lost...is actually a denial of who we are and what we're about.
I think that most followers of God have no idea who they are and what they're about.
I think that most followers of God, if they knew who they are and what they're about (and, in order to get that we would have to know God and what He's about) would take sin a great deal more seriously than we do. As usual, when Brent's thinking deep thoughts, the entire thing is really good.
The Awaited One
The following is excerpted from Max Lucado's An Angel's Story*, and was the 12/23/07 e-mail from MaxLucado.com, which anyone can sign up to receive. Max and his crew are encouraging subscribers to share this and the other excerpts with their friends, so here I am, sharing it with my readers.* We were a wreath of Light around the stable, a necklace of diamonds around the structure. Every angel had been called from his post for the coming, even Michael. None doubted God would, but none knew how He could, fulfill His promise. "I've heated the water!" "No need to yell, Joseph, I hear you fine." Mary would have heard had Joseph whispered. The stable was even smaller than Joseph had imagined but the innkeeper was right--it was clean. I started to clear out the sheep and cow, but Michael stopped me. "The Father wants all of creation to witness the moment." Mary cried out and gripped Joseph's arm with one hand and a feed trough with the other. The thrust in her abdomen lifted her back, and she leaned forward. "Is it time?" Joseph asked. She shot back a glance, and he had his answer. Within moments the Awaited One was born. I was privileged to have a position close to the couple, only a step behind Michael. We both gazed into the wrinkled face of the infant. Joseph had placed hay in a feed trough, giving Jesus His first bed. All of God was in the infant. Light encircled His face and radiated from His tiny hands. The very glory I had witnessed in His throne room now burst through His skin. I felt we should sing but did not know what. We had no song. We had no verse. We had never seen the sight of God in a baby. When God had made a star, our words had roared. When He had delivered His servants, our tongues had flown with praise. Before His throne, our songs never ended. But what do you sing to God in a feed trough? In that moment a wonderful thing happened. As we looked at the baby Jesus, the darkness lifted. Not the darkness of the night, but the darkness of the mystery. Heaven's enlightenment engulfed the legions. Our minds were filled with the Truth we had never before known. We became aware for the first time of the Father's plan to rescue those who bear His name. "Joy to the world! The Lord is come! Let earth receive her King! Let every heart, prepare Him room! Heaven and nature sing!"
The Spirit of Christmas
The following landed in ye olde e-mail inbox earlier today, penned by talk radio host Laura Ingraham: Megan pulled a three-ring binder out of her bag and showed me a photograph of herself and her husband. Young--they're both 21--with big smiles on their faces and obviously wildly in love. "That's what he looked like," she said with a somber face, "He was such a cutie-pie, always buying me little stuffed animals and writing the most thoughtful notes the entire time he was in Iraq." Then she showed me the photo of her husband receiving the Purple Heart on Wednesday from President Bush at Bethesda Naval Medical Center. As President Bush pinned the medal on Mike, he lay unconscious in the ICU, having suffered a traumatic brain injury caused by a piece of shrapnel that pierced his temple. "This is my Mike now," she said, rubbing her eyes. He is completely blind and to alleviate a terrible cranial pressure build-up, doctors had to remove the front of his skull. Since being wounded several months ago, Mike has never regained consciousness and suffers from terrible seizures. "That's my guy," she repeated, before she went on to tell me about how they met and fell in love. For whatever reason, I kept thinking about the fact that some person somewhere carefully assembled the IED that would eventually maim Mike and many others. They are often packed with nails, hunks of lead and screws to cause maxim human suffering. When they explode, the contents rip through flesh and bones, shattering countless dreams in the process. How to comprehend this level of evil and the physical and emotional agony it causes? This young woman and her husband should be out buying their first Christmas tree together, going to parties, raising a glass to their future. When I asked what she was doing for the holiday she said, "I'll be here with Mike. I would never want him to be alone on Christmas." They had been married for about three months when Mike was wounded. In these days before Christmas, Megan and other military wives and moms gave me a precious gift. They reminded me that true love requires sacrifice--sometimes seemingly unbearable, heart-wrenching sacrifice. They are living out their love in big and small ways. Many have moved thousands of miles to relocate to the hospitals where their husbands, wives, sons, and daughters are being treated. This takes an enormous emotional and financial toll, yet they do it for love. When they are not at the hospital bedsides of their wounded warriors, they sit for hours a day in waiting rooms across the United States, hoping for good news--or at least no more bad news. They pray with each other, cry with each other, and yes, even manage to laugh with each other as they hope for a day when they can return to "normal life." Yet for the families of our most seriously injured troops, they know they will have to get used to a "new normal," much different from the life they knew before. As we are about to celebrate Christmas spending time with our families and friends, let us all do our best to live up to the true spirit of this season--and make it a time filled with love, faith, gratitude, hope, charity, and, yes, let's try for some peace on earth. Let us remember the military families and our wounded heroes who will spend this Christmas at Walter Reed Army Medical Center, Brooke Army Medical Center, Bethesda Naval Medical Center and other medical facilities across the nation. As we rush around stressed out because we "haven't found the perfect gift" for so-and-so, these families hope and pray for gifts that cannot be wrapped up: a hand that squeezes back, a smile, the first step on a new prosthesis, or a positive medical report. They need our prayers and support at Christmas and every day. Please give what you can to any of the wonderful organizations that support our bravest and their families. Merry Christmas.
Immanuel
The following is excerpted from Max Lucado's An Angel's Story*, and was the 12/20/07 e-mail from MaxLucado.com, which anyone can sign up to receive. Max and his crew are encouraging subscribers to share this and the other excerpts with their friends, so here I am, sharing it with my readers.* The King walked over and reached for the book. He turned it toward Lucifer and commanded, "Come, Deceiver, read the name of the One who will call your bluff. Read the name of the One who will storm your gates." Satan rose slowly off his haunches. Like a wary wolf, he walked a wide circle toward the desk until he stood before the volume and read the word: "Immanuel?" he muttered to himself, then spoke in a tone of disbelief. "God with us?" For the first time the hooded head turned squarely toward the face of the Father. "No. Not even You would do that. Not even You would go so far." "You've never believed me, Satan." "But Immanuel? The plan is bizarre! You don't know what it's like on Earth! You don't know how dark I've made it. It's putrid. It's evil. Its..." "IT IS MINE," proclaimed the King. "AND I WILL RECLAIM WHAT IS MINE. I WILL BECOME FLESH. I WILL FEEL WHAT MY CREATURES FEEL. I WILL SEE WHAT THEY SEE." "But what of their sin?" "I will bring mercy." "What of their death?" "I will give life." Satan stood speechless. God spoke, "I love my children. Love does not take away the beloved's freedom. But love takes away fear. And Immanuel will leave behind a tribe of fearless children. They will not fear you or your hell." Satan stepped back at the thought. His retort was childish. "Th-th-they will too!" "I will take away all sin. I will take away death. Without sin and without death, you have no power." Around and around in a circle Satan paced, clenching and unclenching his wiry fingers. When he finally stopped, he asked a question that even I was thinking. "Why? Why would You do this?" The Father’s voice was deep and soft. "Because I love them."
Christmas fun
I received this e-mail from a neighbor. It's one of those things where you read their answers, then fill in your own and pass it on to the people you'd like to hear back from. Seeing as how while most of you will be getting ready for work or what-have-you this morning while I'm undergoing prep for surgery to get "unscrewed", I won't be in much of a blogging mood, and thought I'd leave this here for you to enjoy. Please feel free to leave your own answers in the comments, or post to your own blog and link to it in the comments. Merry Christmas! Welcome to the 2007 Holiday Edition of Getting to Know Your Friends! You know the drill. Don't be a scrooge! Fill it out, pass it on, blah blah blah. I would love to hear your answers. 1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate? This time of year, I have to go with the nog. I can get hot chocolate any time. 2. Does Santa wrap the presents or just sit them under the tree? Growing up, Santa just left stuff under the tree, or on the coach next to the tree, etc. Since then, he seems to have upgraded his process, as the gifts he leaves are now wrapped. 3. Colored or white lights? I prefer white, though I do enjoy the colored lights when they're done well. 4. Do you hang mistletoe? Nope. I'm already kissing the person I want to kiss the most. 5. When do you put your decorations up? We have no hard and fast rules on this one. The tree just went up this weekend, and the lights were put on last night. 6. What is your favorite holiday dish? Can I go with the nog again? 7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child? The older gentlemen, Mr. Gridley, who lived next door to my grandparents, would dress as Santa and come over to hand out our presents when we did Christmas at their house. As a child, having Santa right there, handing you the presents he'd brought all the way from the North Pole? Incredible. 8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? I'd have to check with my folks, but it was likely somewhere around ten or eleven years of age. I overheard some other boys talking about, and I confronted my parents with the information. They told me the truth, but swore me to secrecy, as my sister, five years younger than I, still believed. 9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? That usually depends on where we might be, but generally, yes. 10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree? White lights, with ornaments from my childhood, plus some that were gifts from my mother-in-law, my mom, and my grandmothers. They're pretty much all personal momentos of one sort or another. No tinsel or garland. Pretty simple, the way we like it. 11. Snow: Love it or hate it? Love it, just because, growing up in south Louisiana, and now living in north Texas, we don't see snow often. 12. Can you ice skate? Nope. Heck, I barely remember how to roller skate! 13. Do you remember your favorite gift? So many were favorites at so many different times of my life, I really couldn't say. 14. What's the most important thing about the holidays for you? Spending time with the family. It's great to see Christmas through the eyes of a child--my son--once again. 15. What is your favorite holiday dessert? A tie between my grandmother's chocolate pie, and my grandmother's lemon pie. The tie is always broken by having a slice of each. 16. What is your favorite holiday tradition? Watching my son open his presents on Christmas morning. 17. What is on top of your tree? An angel. 18. Which do you like best giving or receiving? Definitely the giving, though I won't lie and say the receiving--especially when it's something from my carefully assembled wish list--comes in a close second. Hey, at least I'm honest. 19. What is your favorite Christmas song? I'm a sucker for a well done "What Child is This?", and I also love "Joy To The World" and "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing". 20. Do you like candy canes? To eat? Not really, but I don't mind them otherwise. 21. What is your favorite Christmas movie? Technically not a movie, but I love "A Charlie Brown Christmas"
Food for thought for my believing friends
Non-believers should feel more loved by the church than by any institution in the world. Boy, but do I blow this one on a consistent basis...
Giving thanks
So, what am I thankful for this year....? My wife. Those who know me know that she has to put up with a lot on a regular basis. However, when I injured my left foot earlier this year, a ton of extra stuff fell to her to take care of, and she's been absolutely wonderful. I love you, sweetheart. The little phisch. Our little man is a never-ending source of joy--and frustration, but that's just part of parenting. That smile of his just lights me up any time, and his laugh is the best sound I've ever heard. He's a gas to play with, and it never ceases to amaze me when I see his mind at work on something. Being his dad is the greatest job I could ever have, and has given me a larger appreciation of the love my own parents have for me. My folks. I had a perfectly normal childhood. My parents, while strict at times, were never abusive in any manner, and I always knew I was loved. I grew up in a nice house in a nice neighborhood, with lots of other kids my age. My folks provided everything I needed, and more. They made sure I went to college without incurring a large financial debt. Since I've left the nest, they've been a source of encouragement and help in ways I never imagined. My family. My sister, my grandmothers, my aunts, uncles, and cousins whom I'm lucky to see even once a year. We may not all talk often, and see one another even less, but it's nice to know that when we do get together, after a few minutes of catching up, it's pretty much just picking up from wherever we last left off. My life would be more shallow without them. My friends. I have friends in this nation from coast to coast, and from the far north of the 48 states down to their southernmost. I am blessed to have quite a few right here in my little corner of the world, and more in many other corners. You have all enriched me in some way, and I'm thankful to know you. The men and women of the United States armed forces. I'm proud to count members from the prior category in this one as well. Thank you all for your tireless sacrifice on behalf of the rest of us. You are never far from our thoughts and prayers. May those of you in the line of fire return home safely upon the successful completion of your mission. In the mean time, watch your six, and God bless. God. You have made all things possible. You have blessed me in ways far beyond my understanding and worth. You offered Your own Son in my place, so that I might have a place in Your kingdom forever. I am humbled that You, the Creator of all things, would deign to know the number of hairs on my head, much less want to be my friend. All of the above things for which I am thankful are gifts from You, and I am eternally grateful.
The Gods Aren't Angry
Thanks to our friends Brent and Tracy, I was able to go with Brent this past Friday to see Rob Bell on his The Gods Aren't Angry Tour. I'd never heard Bell, and while I have one of his books, I confess I've yet to crack the cover, so I was looking forward to hearing what Mr. Bell might have to say. I was not disappointed. Brent has a thorough review, and I'm pretty much a "ditto" with what he says, so be sure to check it out. I will add a few comments and observations to those made by Brent. I noted how, when Bell was talking about how God changed the entire dynamic of the relationship with humans starting with Abraham, Rob noted how God, "used those other gods, worshipped by the rest of human civilization, as props in His narrative to humanity." I'm not sure why that line jumped out at me, but it made enough of an impression to get copied into my Moleskine. Maybe it was just a reminder of how big God truly is, that He exists outside time and space as we understand them, and doesn't display the very humanistic characteristics we see in the gods of the ancient civilizations. What's also fascinating is how so much of what transpired, from a spiritual/faith standpoint, in the ancient world still pervades our so-called modern society. Looking at the religions of the world, all of them are still engaged in some sort of "doing" relationship. You have to do this to please Allah, you have to pray at a certain time, facing a certain way, saying certain words. If you sin, you must confess to the priest, and do penance as he directs. If you offend your neighbor, this is the ritual the rabbi can help you with to make things right. It's all about doing, which is just how the ancients engaged with Apollo, Jupiter, or whoever. Christianity is unique in that God Himself provided the means of salvation, saying "Done!" The only thing required of you is to say yes to Him. That's it. Everything that follows is from your relationship with Him, not because there's anything you have to do, rather there are things that, as a result of the relationship, you want to do. Which was part of what Bell was getting at, too: the God of Abraham is unique in that He reaches out to humanity for a one-on-one relationship with each man, woman, and child. This idea floored the ancients. It would've been as radical a concept as showing a modern automobile to the Founding Fathers. Bell's still on tour until December 2d, so if you're in and around Raleigh, DC, Pittsburgh, NYC, Philly, Beantown, Louisville, Indy, or Rob's home town of Grand Rapids, I highly encourage you to take it in. I don't think you'll be disappointed.
Where is God?
So where is God found? He finds us, of course, as he always has, from the beginning, and will to the end, because a parent seeks his children without ceasing. But listen close, and I will tell you where I saw him last. It was just yesterday evening, when Isaac placed his fresh-washed hands in my palms, his face strangely peace-filled, and sang to me in his warbly voice. Here is God, I thought. Do you want to find God? Then look up from your books and theologies, if you can bear it, for God is here.
No liberty without virtue
Laura Ingraham, Power To The People:
Our Declaration of Independence reminds us of the "unalienable rights" that are ours to enjoy: "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." These rights are dependent upon one another for survival. We often forget that we have been "endowed" with these rights by our "Creator." How seldom we think of Him and our duty to Him as we exercise these precious rights.
In this age of widespread human embryo destruction, abortion, euthanasia, and cloning, how can we credibly protect the right to life? What is liberty? How do we exercise it without encroaching on the rights of others? And what does it mean to pursue happiness? Is that just a permission slip to indulge our every appetite? Is it a free pass to super-size our meals, wallow in porn, and swell our coffers, regardless of the impact on others?
Too often we have believed that "freedom" means that we have no duties or responsibilities to others. That "anything goes" mentality may appear to be empowering, but it is not. Instead, it creates a sense of anarchy that makes most Americans very unhappy.
The Founding Fathers did not risk their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor so we could become spoiled, pampered, narcissistic, and focused solely on our own pleasure. An ordered society was the Founders' goal--a place where we could live our lives in limitless possibility--but only if we fulfilled our obligations. They wanted us to have the liberty to tap into our creative powers, for our own good and for the good of our countrymen. This is the pathway to true happiness. But that society is only possible if we, the people, have a shared set of values, a common set of beliefs that bind us together. The Founders did not view liberty as a license, but as a sacred responsibility to be used for the good. They understood that liberty cannot be separated from virtue.
There are reasons it's called "faith"
My friend Brandon has a great post today that got me to thinking, and in thinking, smiling.
The walk of faith is not a stroll but a journey. And each one of us walks a different path. Some days that path is familiar and we are excited and hopeful. Other days that path is and dark and we tremble with the deep fear of unknowing. There are days for praise and there are days for fear and doubt and sometimes those two things seem to happen all at once.
[...]
So take courage today! If you are excited and hopeful - rejoice! If you are scared and tired and full of fear - take heart! Do not fear the unknown - seek Him! And embrace the tension of walking ahead. For even the unknown can become familiar when we hold onto the One who knows what lies ahead. We truly serve an amazing and awesome God!
Even more thankful
Remember when a few hours ago I said I was really thankful about living in America, and I wasn't going to get in to some diatribe regarding socialized medicine? After reading the latest from Walter E. Williams, I'm doubly--no, make that triply--thankful:
Before we buy into single-payer health care systems like Canada's and the United Kingdom's, we might want to do a bit of research. The Vancouver, British Columbia-based Fraser Institute annually publishes "Waiting Your Turn." Its 2006 edition gives waiting times, by treatments, from a person's referral by a general practitioner to treatment by a specialist. The shortest waiting time was for oncology (4.9 weeks). The longest waiting time was for orthopedic surgery (40.3 weeks), followed by plastic surgery (35.4 weeks) and neurosurgery (31.7 weeks).
As reported in the June 28 National Center for Policy Analysis' "Daily Policy Digest," Britain's Department of Health recently acknowledged that one in eight patients waits more than a year for surgery. (Emphasis added. --R) Now, class, who remembers what kind of procedure I'm having in just a couple of hours? That's right, Nathan. Orthopedic surgery. Orthopedic surgery two weeks after sustaining injury. Two. As opposed to forty. Two. Two. Thank you again, God. Thank you.
A moment of thanks
My friends, as I go about my business on the eve of foot surgery, I thought I would take a moment to offer thanks. Thanks be to God that I was born in America. The United States is, contrary to what a few of our countrymen and very many outsiders would say, quite simply the greatest nation on planet Earth. No, we're not perfect. Far, far from it. But if you could pick any place to be born and grow up in, surely, this is the place, and this is the time. I injured my foot the evening of the 17th. Between that time and now I have visited an emergency clinic and been treated, seen a specialist (twice), and had a CT scan taken of my foot. At the two-week mark, I shall undergo surgery to get the foot's interior cleaned up and have a screw inserted to help hold things together. Hopefully, at the end of four months, the screw will come out, and I'll go back to normal mobility. This would have happened in the same way and at the same pace in very few places elsewhere on the globe. I'm not going to get in to some diatribe regarding socialized medicine, but I wonder if I would be as far along in the process in other Western nations. I certainly wouldn't be here if I were in a Second-World nation, and I might be permanently crippled if I were a resident in the Third World. Thank God I'm here. Thanks be to God for close friends. Like Drew, who was helping me with a ceiling fan installation when I stupidly injured myself, and who took me to the after-hours clinic so my wife wouldn't have to deal with that burden, too. And who called this weekend, after being out of town for a week on business, to check up on me, and offering whatever assistance we might need. Like Nathan and Brent, who do their best to joke around and keep my mind off the injury. For nabbing primo tickets to the local minor league baseball team, so I could have one last hurrah before my mobility is limited for a couple of months. (Thanks so much, Nathan!) Like the folks at our minichurch, who are always so supportive and caring, wondering what it is they can do to help out. I love you guys! Thanks be to God that I have such an awesome wife and family. If you're the praying sort, beyond any prayers concerning my injury and recovery, pray for my wife. The Lord knows what she goes through in putting up with me on a normal basis, much less when I'm going to be in a cast and on crutches for a couple of months. Outside of physical pain and lack of mobility, this will probably be harder on her than it will be on me. So please pray for her. I am so richly and humbly blessed, I can't even really put it in to words, other than to say thanks. Thank you, Drew, Brent, Nathan, Donna, Bill, Geno, Liz, Brad, Becky, Susan, Larry, Marlie, Carolyn, Veta, Sam, and Brenda. Thank you, Mom and Dad, for your encouragement. (And yes, Dad, I did feel the eye roll over the phone when I told you what had happened, and I just hear in my head, "I thought I taught you better than that." Come on, you know you were thinking it. And yes, you did teach me better than that. What can I say? I had a moment of stupidity.) Thank you, Kelly, for loving me. You are so wonderful and awesome, there are times I can't believe you're even in my life, much less my wife. Finally, thank you, God, for delivering me from sin, for calling me to Your Kingdom, for blessing me with my nation of birth, for my many friends, and my family. You are, indeed, an awesome God!