Complain, Complain, Complain

I hate making New Year's resolutions, so I don't. They're just broken promises. Familiar with the drill?

I'm awesome at keeping promises to others, but I suck at keeping promises to myself.

Any who, if I were to make resolutions other than those made to God, mine would be to be more thankful, to be more generous, to be more loving, and to be more content and not complain.

You might ask: "Why be more content and not complain? Doesn't everyone complain? Isn't complaining the nature of our beast?"

Yes, but why complain if complaining only makes us more miserable?

Lately, I've noticed that I've been complaining too much. 

• When I complain, I'm NOT trusting God.
• When I complain, I feel like I KNOW best what I need instead of believing in His love and providence.
• When I complain, I am NOT thankful for what I do have; I'm just concentrating on what I don't have.
• When I complain, I am doing something that god HATES. (Check out the first five books of the Bible . . . and all those afterwards.)

I of all people should not be complaining.

• Just a mere fifteen months ago, this woman was dead . . . almost . . . literally.
• Just a mere year ago, this woman could croak only a note or two. We're talking bullfrog singing on a lily pad. Truly! I sang low notes I've never ever sung before.
• The past few years, my trusty cane and/or walker have been my constant companions.
• For the past fifteen years, I've faced cancer three times among other ailments.

No, I have NOTHING to complain about.  I AM ALIVE. MY THROAT IS HEALED. I CAN WALK AGAIN. I AM CANCER FREE. AND I MADE IT THROUGH ALL THE OTHER STUFF. Thank you, Jesus!!!!!!!!!!!

I also have a home, a paycheck, a vehicle, food to eat, and a wonderful family who didn't abandon me throughout all of this. I have at least ten or fifteen people, maybe more, whom I call TRUE friends. On top of all of that, THE GOD OF THE UNIVERSE LOVES ME!

Unfortunately, life happens, but in the midst of life happening, I don't have to make myself more miserable by complaining. In the midst of it all, those Everlasting Arms cradle me unless I'm a wiggle worm and constantly wriggle myself right off of His lap.

Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians 10: 5+ that God's displeasure with His people was because of their complaining, grumbling, and discontent.

These things happened as a warning to us,

so that we would not crave [lust after] things as they did

or worship idols as some of them did . . .

Don't grumble.

I'm rereading Elisabeth Elliot's Keep a Quiet Heart. Amy Carmichael, a missionary to India who was bedridden and crippled for the later part of her life yet did not neglect her call, influenced Elisabeth and her husband Jim, also a missionary to South America who was murdered by the very people he sought to save. Elisabeth later returned to this tribe and ministered to them.

Elliot reminded me this week that the things we complain about just may be the "instruments whereby the Potter intends to shape His clay into the image of His Son." Amy Carmichael would say, "See in this a chance to die." In other words, be content in the blessed assurance of the goodness and faithfulness and mercy of God. His goodness and His mercy DO follow us all the days of our lives.

So, I leave you with a summary of Elisabeth's list of "Several Ways to Make Yourself Miserable" in hopes that I will strive to achieve my goal of not complaining. Life is what it is.

I have a choice: peace or misery.

• Count your troubles. Name them one by one over and over and over again.
• Worry every day. Don't get out of practice. It might burn a few calories.
• Have a pity party. If you pity yourself, no one else will have to.
• Try to serve both God and man.
• Find out what the Joneses [not aimed at Jimmy and Jaimie] are buying and where they are going. Try to outdo them even if it gets you deeper in debt.
• Stay away from absolutes [truths]. What's right for you is all that matters. Be and individual. Be independent. Don't be stressed over what others expect of you.
• Make sure to protect your rights. Never think about other people's rights. You have your life; they have theirs.
• Don't fall into a compassion trap where people can disappoint you and take advantage of your generosity. If you get too involved in another's troubles, you might neglect your own.
• Don't let Bible reading, church going, and prayer get in the way of what's really important - TV, news, gaming, sleep. Invisible things are eternal. Stick with the visible ones.

If we do these things, our hearts will be anything but "quiet" this year.

May the peace of God rest on us all.

To Do or not To Do

Recently, I had an unpleasant dream about one of my neighbors. Usually when this happens, I pray for the person. However, this time I awakened with another friend on my mind. I did pray for my neighbor, but I prayed more for my friend. 

I wrestled with whether to tell my friend about the dream. Normally, I would quickly tell the person, but this time I hesitated because my friend has had a terribly hard year.

2016 was an unusually hard year on most of my friends and neighbors. The year began with a cousin losing an early thirty-something. Then another friend lost a sister and later in the year a nephew, another lost an early twenty-something, and a week later a neighbor in her early sixties lost an early thirty-something who left behind a beautiful four-year-old whom she is now raising. I was there when that child was born and watched her grow up. Then a week later, another neighbor of mine lost her husband of 45+ years who just dropped dead in their home one night.  Later the same year, this same neighbor buried her mother. The list continues along with bankruptcy, other financial and inheritance woes, strange sicknesses, etc. 

Watching my friends and neighbors cope with grief and other assorted problems has been heart wrenching. Each one has faced multiple issues and is coping in his/her own unique way. I've shed and wiped away a lot of tears this past year. 

Thus, my hesitation in contacting my friend about the dream and the prayer and "vision" I had afterwards. I didn't even send this friend a Christmas card because sending one felt "inappropriate." 

I questioned my soul: "Was the dream just part of the intercessory process?" or "Is this something God wants me to share?" God knows I've had many "Job-ish-like" friends who have come to me with many words that made me feel worse instead of better over the past fifteen years. The unsick and the ungrieving just do not know what to say to the sick and the grieving. I did not and do not want to do that to anyone, especially my friends.

Thus, my delimma. God has not let this dream go. Every day in over nine days, I have awakened with that face in front of me. Every day in over nine days, I have been forced through many different circumstances to remember this particular friend. 

I guess - no, I know what I need to do. I need to write that letter and have already begun to craft it. Please pray that I won't be a friend like Job's.

All of that to say this: Every day we are faced with choices which determine whether we are disciples or deserters. These choices are the nature of His call - to obey or not to obey. Often the words He speaks or the deeds He asks us to do aren't pleasant. Really, it's always been this way. 

Check out John 6. Jesus has been performing miracles - feeding 5,000, walking on water, healing, etc. He faces the crowd and reads their mail: "You want to be with me because I fed you, not because you understand the miracles (basically, you don't understand who I am). Don't spend your time chasing the perishables like food; spend your energy seeking the life that I can give you." 

Later, he says a hard thing. "I am the living bread that came down from heaven . . . Unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood, you cannot have eternal life within you . . . My flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Anyone who feeds on me will live because of me."

The crowd's answer: "Say what? Eat his flesh and drink his blood? I don't think so." 

His disciples: "This is very hard to understand. How can anyone accept it?" Sooooo, many turned away and deserted Him.

Jesus asked the twelve who remained: "Are you also going to leave?"

When these hard choices come, and they will most certainly come, what will be our response this year? Will we flee or fight to complete what's been asked of us? I hope, I pray that my response this year will be with quicker feet than I had last year.  I do not want to be a deserter. I do not want to waste precious time deciding to obey.

We have to settle in our hearts BEFORE the hard choices come one, that we will follow and complete the task; two, that we won't be offended by what's been asked of us; finally, that we will believe in Him and in His call in spite of the strangeness and the mystery of it all.

We cannot pick and choose what we will or won't believe. Our only choices are to believe or don't.

My prayer is that we will take the step whether we understand or not and take it quickly, not wasting time. I pray that we will set our hearts to believe knowing that we may never understand this side of eternity.

To eat His flesh and to drink His blood is His call to us, a call that makes Him and His words to us our very life.

May we, like Peter, answer Him with, "Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give life. We believe and know You are the Holy Son of God." 

By the way, the letter is in the mail.     

Seeds

How rocky is your soil?
How blind, your eyes?
How deaf, your ears?
How hardened, your heart?
How cluttered, your mind?

Maybe you heard

but did not understand;

thus, the treasured seed was stolen.

Or maybe you heard

and even rejoiced

yet had no foundation

for truth to stick;

thus, the winds of problems,

changes, and persecutions

blew the precious seed away.

Or maybe you heard,

but life happened -

its worries and schemes

hatching only barrenness.

Oh, to have a heart

full of the loam

of belief and understanding,

a rich soil

ready for planting,

a heart awaiting

a plentiful harvest

from divine seed.

Prepare the soil.

Remove all impediments.

Plant the seed.

(My New Year's prayer for 2017)

God of the brightest mornings,

God of the highest peaks,

God of the darkest midnights,

God in the deepest seas,

be the God of me -

totally.

My soul's farthest horizons

surpass the morning's light,

are higher than mountain precipices,

darker than any night,

deeper than the depths of the ocean,

stranger than anything I've seen.

No one on earth can fathom

all that's inside of me.

But You, Lord of all creation, know me -

thoroughly.

I alone cannot reach

the heights, the depths of me,

but You can trace my motives

and tame my mysteries.

So I humbly bow before You

and cry on bended knee,

"Search me,

Send Your cleansing rain.

Be the God of me -

totally."

The Stranger

Hummm.

Another day.

So tired of all of this.

Nothing in cupboards.

Nothing in fridge.

Guess I'll have coffee.

Well.

Out of coffee.

Huh.

Couldn't have one anyway.

Forgot the power was turned off yesterday.

Water will probably be next.

Well.

Here I am.

Alone in this dismal place.

My name?

Dave.

No.

Better call me Rob like everyone else.

Don't like that name.

But it does seem to fit.

Rob is short for . . .

No, not Robert.

ROBBED.

Everything I ever had is gone.

You know like I've been robbed.

Lost my job.

Wife left me . . . took the kids.

Probably about to lose this place.

Have no money.

Nothing to do.

Nothing to live for.

Once had an okay life.

Not too shabby.

Had plans.

Dreams.

Reason to live.

You know, a home, a family, a little money.

All that's gone now.

Can barely get out of bed.

Don't want to get out of bed.

Nothing for me here or out there.

Is that a knock at the door?

Crap!

Let me guess.

The super.

"Sorry, son, but can't let you stay here any more.

Wish I could help you. Have done all I can."

[Knocking continues.]

Okay, already.

I'm coming.

Time to face the music.

Homelessness is calling my name.

When I opened the door, a stranger silently stood there.

"Who are you?"

"A friend."

"I ain't got no friends."

"You do now. Are you going to let me in or let me freeze?"

"I really don't know. You're dressed kind of funny."

The stranger stood there dressed in a crimson coat and hat.

Looked expensive.

Tailored to fit.

He really wasn't much to look at, but there was an aroma about him.

Made me hungry.

And I was hungry.

He carried an old-fashioned carpet bag made of some sort of crimson material, a tapestry maybe.

"Well, are you going to let me in or keep me out in the cold?"

Well, what the hell?
Hmmmmm.
Might as well.
Not like I'm going anywhere important.
The worst he could do is kill me.
That might be a good thing.
His story might be interesting.
About all I get these days -
another man's stories, another man's blues, another man's dreams.

"Come in.
Warning.
Place ain't much."

The stranger picked up his carpet bag and silently entered the room.
I offered him a chair at my table.
He took it.
His eyes never left my face.

After a few silent moments, I felt awkward, uncomfortable.
His gaze seemed to make me notice myself, my place.
I felt shame, yet I was curious.
Who is this man?
What does he want with me?

"Dave?"
"What? How did you . . .?"
"I know everything."
"Then you know that Dave is not my name."
"Dave is your name. I gave it to you."
"Man, you're not my father."

He smiled.
"We'll see."

Slowly, he began to open his bag.
"Hey, man. You're not going to hurt me, are you? Rob me? I don't have anything you'd want. In fact, I don't have anything."

"We'll see."

He withdrew a stained,rough, misshapen wooden bowl from his bag and set it in front of me.
Then he filled it with water from a broken bottle that had been pieced back together somehow - some sort of pottery.
As he filled the bowl, I noticed how thirsty I was.

"Okay. I'll play nice for awhile.
Is this some sort of magic trick?"

"We'll see."

Next, he opened a small velvet pouch.
He handled the pouch with uh . . . reverence?
Inside were crimson, heart-shaped rose petals.
He crushed a few of the petals into the clear water.
Immediately, the water began to turn a pale pink and then a deeper shade until the water was so red that I couldn't see the petals anymore.

Then he carefully lifted a small vial and added its contents to the ancient bowl.
This liquid looked like oil, and its fragrance filled the room.
Finally, he removed a small golden tube from the bag.
He reached in and pinched a few tiny crystals and carefully sprinkled them over the contents of the bowl.
Looked like salt.
He didn't drop a one.

As the aroma enveloped me, I felt . . . safe.
This man wasn't here to harm me.

"Wash."
"What? Did you say wash?"
"Wash."
"Me?"
"Who else?"
"But it's red."
"So. Wash."
"Okay."

As I washed my hands, I began to notice just how filthy I really was, and I felt ashamed.
Years of filth and grime were on my hands.
I expected the water to turn brown from the dirt, but it just deepened in color.

"Are you finished?"

I didn't want to be finished because the water felt so soothing - healing.
Then I really took a good look at myself.
Could anything wash away this amount of dirt?

"Are you finished? You don't have to be. You can wash as much and as long as you wish."

So, I began with my face.
The water felt wonderful.
Hadn't felt that good in years.
Didn't want to stop.
Wanted to be clean all over.

I eyed the gentleman closely.
He nodded, so I took the bowl in my hands.
Lifting it gently, I raised it over my head and turned it upside down.
The water flowed down covering me all over, cleansing every nook and cranny from head to toe.

The stranger then pulled a folded piece of brilliantly white cloth from his bag.
Maybe silk or linen.
As he unfolded the cloth, light drove the darkness from the room.
For the first time in a long time, I could see clearly - the room,
the furniture, my clothes . . . even me.
Once again, I felt shame over the shabbiness and filthiness of my surroundings and the stained rags I was wearing.

As he unfolded the final fold, I realized his intentions.

"Please don't ruin your lovely cloth. See the dirt, the scratches, the stains."

"Don't worry, son. This cloth has been everywhere and has seen everything. It will cover it all."

And then he gently placed the cloth over my shabby, dirty table.
Suddenly, everything seemed new.

"I have prepared a feast for you."
"For me? Why?
"Because I love you."
"But I don't even know you. I don't even know your name."
"I know you, and that's all that matters."


A feast sounded awesome.
I was hungry, so hungry that it hurt.
Funny how I didn't realize how hungry I was until this moment.

"You ready?"
"Yes."
You can have as much or as little as you wish. I will leave that up to you. Okay?
"Okay."

He then placed a beautifully ornate, silver chalise on the table and poured a dark red liquid into it.

"Go ahead. Enjoy. I paid a very high price for this wine. It's called Forgiveness."

I took a deep drink.
Then another and another.
As I drank, my heart grew lighter, and a subtle joy began to warm me on the inside.
I felt something on my face.
Tears?
After all these years?
Wow!

Something was happening to me.
Something strange.
Something wonderful.

He then lifted a loaf of bread from his bag.
Before he placed it on the table, he broke it and said, "Take. Eat."
It was still warm and soft.
Best bread I ever tasted.

"The bread and the wine are the first course. There are many other dishes. You don't have to eat them all at once. Remember, you can have as much of each as you desire. Everything has been prepared with a special seasoning called love."

While I devoured the bread and the wine, he busied himself setting
out bowls and platters of food, each overflowing.
Their aromas were intoxicating.

As he positioned the dishes on the table, he named them - Mercy,
Belief, Grace, Peace, Wisdom, Power, Joy, Patience, Kindness, Generosity.
And on and on.
I honestly cannot remember the names of all of them.

"Do I need to taste them in order?"
"Not really, but I would recommend beginning with Belief and Faith. Remember, you can have as much or as little as you desire."

So I began with Belief and Faith and moved onto something called Hope. 
I'd never tasted it before. 
These made me want to taste all the others.

The more I ate, the stronger and younger and lighter I felt.
What was happening to me?

The stranger didn't talk much but just sat there smiling in delight while I ate.
Occasionally, I would hear, "Good choice." "Wise."
I couldn't get enough.

"Why? Why me? What have I ever done to deserve this? There's got to be a catch?"
"Nope. No catch. This is a real deal. It is everlasting."
"But I don't understand."
"Keep feasting. The more you eat, the more you'll understand."

Circumstances forgotten, I continued to feast.

"Well, Dave. I have to leave."
"Why? We're just getting to know each other. I'm just getting to know you."
"You're going to be okay - now. I'll be around. Promise. When you least expect it, I'll drop by. Thank you for letting me in, for opening the door. That took courage. Remember that you have enough here to share with others, so be generous."
"Wait. You never told me your name."
"Dave, my son, you've always known my name."

From that day forward, I lived thinking about the "stranger" at my door.
He turned my darkness to light, my blindness to sight.

Yes, I'm still hungry and thirsty and looking for a home.
But just as he promised, there has been plenty for me and plenty to share.
The more I share, the more I have.
My cup has never run dry.

And when I least expect it, he comes.
His visits renew me and energize me and keep me going.
And he always brings something new to taste and enjoy, something that somehow changes me and enables me to carry on.

Wow!
What a friend I have found in this stranger.

Patience

I and almost everyone I have ever known have at one time or another prayed for patience. Patience seems to be the one virtue that is in short supply.

So, what exactly is patience?  "The capacity to accept or to tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset."  Patience's immediate family members include Perseverance, Persistence, Endurance, Tenacity, Determination, and Resolve.  They reside in the neighborhood of No Whining and live on the streets named Never Give Up, Never Give In, and Never Give Out.

Playfulness aside, we desperately need patience.  Why?  To press on to maturity or as John Wimber so eloquently said, "To grow up before we grow old."

I do have my own definition of patience - WAITING.

Think about life for a minute.  A tremendous portion of each and every day is spent playing the "waiting game."  We wait for football season to start, payday to arrive, meals to be served, and to check out when shopping or to check in on vacation.  We wait for our coffee to brew and our pizza to bake (or be delivered).  We wait for summer to arrive and for school to start.  We wait for Christmas or Valentine's Day or our birthday/anniversary in anticipation of spending time with the family and maybe even a cool gift or two, and then we often spend time waiting on the family to arrive for the party or FedEx to deliver the gift.  We wait on homes to be sold and on loans to buy homes and other things.  We wait on babies to be born and on others who are suffering to pass.  We anticipate our babies' first words and steps, and then when they are grown, we longingly look forward to their infrequent visits.  Waiting is living.  Living involves waiting.

Waiting doesn't bother us most of the time, but if we have to wait for a long time or a really long time, we don't fare so well.  In fact, sometimes we morph into the animals that we are.  Just check in to the nearest Chick-fil-A drive thru at about 11:45 or the car tag/drivers' license line that's winding all the way down the hall on the last day of the month or sit longer than fifteen minutes in the waiting room at the doctor's office.

God has built this "waiting game" into life, into each of our spiritual journeys to grow us up, to strengthen our faith, to make us into the "little Christs" (definition of the word Christian) He designed us to be.  To quote Adam Russell:  "We were not made for comfort but for greatness."  The "greats" had to wait without becoming offended with God.

How then should we wait?

With ATTITUDE!

What kind of attitude?

EXPECTATION of God's goodness - with FAITH/BELIEF.

"Without faith it is impossible to please God, for he who comes to God MUST BELIEVE that God is and that God is a rewarder of those who seek Him."  (Hebrews 11:6)  In other words, we must believe in God and believe that HE IS GOOD not just when life is good, but when life is bad.  If we live long enough, life will have bad moments, sometimes really bad moments.  Regardless, God is good ALWAYS even when life isn't.

Many of the "legends" in the Bible waited patiently a long time to see God's goodness, to see His promises become reality.  Some never received in this life what was promised, yet they diligently believed and obeyed until the end.  They were neither sluggish nor dull.  They took hold of hope in the goodness of God and His promises.  That hope, that faith, that belief became the anchor for their souls.  They had attitude.

Their waiting was not  a passive, "I'll sit right here until something lands in my lap."  No way! 

• They trusted.
• They believed.
• They sought God.
• They expected His goodness to be revealed.
• They looked forward with hope and faith.
• They hung on for dear life
• They worshipped in spite of circumstances.

This is the kind of attitude, life style that pleases God.

"Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.  For by it [faith and hope], the men of old gained approval and pleased God."  (Hebrews 11:12)

• They were looking for God, seeking Him and His plans for their life.
• They expected Him to come and to be faithful.
• They were moving forward, closer to Him every day and loving and honoring Him more and more each day.
• They were laying down their chains, their sins.
• They were running with endurance, not walking, the race God had set before them.  They weren't doing their own thing.
• They did not lose heart or grow weary or complain [most of the time].
• They held fast and believed in God and His goodness.
• They hoped and didn't waver.

Why?

Because "He who promised IS faithful."  (Hebrews 10:23 - 12:1)

Yes, God's school is a waiting room.  It is also a testing room.  I did say "testing" room.  Faith isn't truly ours until we do something with it.  For us to "do" something with our faith, we have to have a "have not" that tests us and everything we believe. 

If we pass the tests, those struggles/conflicts strengthen everything within us and change us into more of what God designed us to be.  Ultimately, that is what we all want - change - genuine, lasting change.  Maturity.

Let me share a secret.  GOD WAITS TOO!  Yes, He patiently and lovingly waits for us to seek Him and to love Him.  He stands waiting just like the good and patient father in the story of the prodigal son.  He waits for us to come home and become a part of the family.  I believe He also sheds tears just like Jesus did over those who have lost their way.  May we all find our way back home.

"But let patience (perseverance) finish its perfect work so that you may be perfect/mature and entire/complete, not lacking anything."  (James 1: 4)

The King of Brokenness

I've known pain and loneliness.

I've cried frustration's tears.

I've been broken, rejected by friends.

I've been imprisoned by fears.

 

But He's not afraid of my weaknesses.

He's not upset by my tears.

He embraces my brokenness

and understands my fears.

 

He was broken and bruised and left all alone.

He cried powerful tears -

Despised and rejected, considered a fraud,

crucified after thirty-three short years

 

He was God's plan

to redeem fallen man.

Jesus embraced it all --

the King of Brokenness.

 

He's the Hero who loosed my chains,

my Friend when I am afraid,

the Merchant who purchased my sin,

the Hand who holds my days.

 

He's the Shadow who carries me,

the Hope of a brand new start,

the Redeemer of all my weaknesses,

the Joy in my heart.

 

He's the Rock who shelters my soul,

the Physician who makes me whole.

He's the Power behind everything,

the Reason I sing.

 

He was God's plan

to redeem fallen man.

Jesus embraced it all,

lovingly embraced it all

 

for me,

for you,

for us all.

He's the King of Brokenness.