We often fear that enduring someone’s abusive words or actions and being willing to forgive those who participate in them against us somehow makes us weak. See if Joy’s little motivational speech changes your mind. For all of you Harmony folks the ministry she works with may sound pretty familiar.

Why do you work?

It may seem like a simple question, but there are multiple layers to the answers we give.

Answer 1: Because I can. I work because I can work. Somehow someone saw me as valuable and they hired me to do a job that was worth doing.

Answer 2: Because I should. God interpreted man’s existence quite simply in Genesis 2:15. He was to work and care for creation. A few thousand years go by and God commands a nation of former slaves, who undoubtedly worked long days every day, to work six days and rest on the seventh (Exodus 34:21). And in Thessalonica Paul instructs the church that he who does not work should not eat (2 Thessalonians 3:10). I earn a living and this should be a testimony to the redemption that has taken place in my life.

Answer 3: Because I am. I am an ambassador of Jesus Christ. I am an adopted son of the Most High God. I am bought by the blood of Jesus to do good. I have been reconciled with God to do what God originally intended. So, in the use of my skills, gifts, and talents I glorify Him who gave His life for my sake. Creating, serving, working are acts of worship because I am Redeemed.

Thoughts inspired by Ann Voskamp’s Do You Feel Broken And Fragmented?

Lately, I have been meditating on that word…normal. What does it really mean?

Why are so many people pursuing it?

Why are so many more running away from it?

When life exits a crisis why are we in search of a “New Normal?”

Normal is a word you want to hear after a medical exam, and is a word you hope to never hear in show business.

What about all of the normal people in the Bible? People unlike Joseph who was sold into slavery by his brothers and eventually rose to be second in command to Pharaoh, or David who killed Goliath with one shot and became King of Israel only to eventually commit adultery and murder a friend.

What about the men who fought with Gideon? Or the men who were sent away because they chose to drink from the stream instead of from their hands?

What about the elders of the churches that were started by Timothy and Titus and Paul? What about the people Peter, Paul, Jude, James, John and the writer of Hebrews fail to mention?

In the day and age where great leaders are celebrated and even worshiped I find myself wondering if everyone is supposed to strive to be great, or are most of us just supposed to figure out what it means to be normal Christians?

After watching this trailer I am left wanting to see the whole movie, which means it’s a good trailer. I am also left thinking a couple of things. One is, “WOW!!! These dudes took some serious risks and got some serious kicks. Creation is truly majestic.” This thought was immediately followed by, “How in the world do these guys top this? I mean how do you go bigger? If bigger is what you are chasing, then how do you do that?” I’m left feeling envious of of them for having lived so close to the edge, while at the same time feeling sorry for them because it is the edge that they live for. What a useless purpose. So, how do I live closer to the edge, but do so for the glory of God?

My grandmother, who lost my grandfather a few years ago, called my Dad yesterday on what could have been his 42nd wedding anniversary, and his first without Mom. The conversation went like this:

Grandma – “So, how many years would it have been?”
Dad – “Today would have been 42 years.”
Grandma – “Wow, that’s a long time.”
Dad – “Yep, a long time.”

Grandma – “A long time…just not long enough.”

That pretty well sums it up.

The blessing in mourning is that we loved someone enough to actually feel those words. Imagine never loving someone enough to be able to say that? What a tragedy?

There is much of my life that has disappeared over the years. One moment it was there and then the next it just crumbled into a pile of dust. Some of it I destroyed intentionally, some unintentionally, and some just happened without any effort or neglect on my part.

Living in a sin infected world, and being myself infected with this disease of rebellion, dust piles lie all around us and in and around the lives of everyone we meet. 2010 leaves numerous piles in my life. I have a choice to either be overwhelmed at the mess or live in anticipation of what the Beauty Maker might make to rise up out of it. While I am tempted to live in despair I strive to live in wonder as I wait to see the Potter add water to my dust and begin to mold and make something new. This is what Advent is all about.

In the most dirty and desperate of environments, the Stable, the most splendid and pure living being, Jesus, arrived. And the lives of the despised and dejected have never been the same. I will miss those people, especially Mom and Grandpa, and ideas and things that used to be, but today I look forward to something beautiful becoming of their departure, because in Jesus I can.

This core value, which has really crystallized at Quest Community Church in Lexington, Kentucky, is one, in my humble opinion, every church in America needs to adopt.

People who say that they are Christians may not actually be known by Jesus. They may actually not be covered in His blood. They may actually be destined for Hell unless we begin to ponder this question.

How would we do weekends, or weekdays for that matter, differently if we assumed that almost everybody attending a worship service, Bible study, small group, or cookout were not Christians?

I have a deep unsettling passion that the reason American culture continues to look less like Jesus is because many, if not most, of the people who attend mass or a worship service in churches around the country say that they are Christian while in reality the risen Son of God, Messiah, Jesus has not been embraced by them.

They have accepted an idea in lieu of embracing a person. Their fruit is rotten (Matthew 12:33).

Pete Hise, pastor of Quest, had six minutes to share about this core value. It’s worth six minutes of your time to watch, listen, and ask yourself whether or not you’ll be standing in a Matthew 7 line.

“21 “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord, will enter into the kingdom of heaven – only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. 22 On that day, many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, didn’t we prophesy in your name, and in your name cast out demons and do many powerful deeds?’

23 Then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you. Go away from me, you lawbreakers!’“

Pete likes the NLT, but I am loving the NET these days and I think that there is significance to being called a lawbreaker in light of the atoning death of Jesus. So, are you sure that you’ll not be standing in a Matthew 7 line? You cannot be called a lawbreaker if Jesus’ blood is on you. Have you been washed in His blood? If not leave me a comment, or pull me aside, or send me a note. Let’s talk about it.

When we see the sin of others we have a choice. We can empathize with their need for a Savior, or, out of apathy, we can ostracize them according to their need for a Savior. I think Jesus would want us to empathize with one’s need for a Savior. It doesn’t mean we say to the abusive alcoholic that it is permissible to keep drinking and abusing, but we try to enter into the mess of their lives pointing out their need for Jesus. We don’t overlook the glutton who has a significant weight problem, but we lovingly point out that Twinkies should be left off of the shopping list for a while and that their weight problem is really a food problem which is a sin problem from which Jesus promises to free us.

The reason we do not like to step into the mess of someone’s life is because it is far less painful, less complicated, less emotional, less sacrificial if we just say, “When you follow Jesus you must abide by the policy “No Sex Outside of Marriage” and because you are not abiding by that policy you are going to Hell.” The reason we don’t enter into the sewer is that we have a faith problem. We have failed to remember from what we were saved, and fail to recall for what we are saved. We, the Church, have done a poor job of allowing others to see us tell our story to others, and we have failed to teach Jesus’ people the importance of remembering and telling their own story. So, many of us forget just how wretched we were, and refuse to confront just how wretched we still are.

I think Jesus would have us dig deep into the reasons of why Jane feels like she needs to sleep around with other women, and then seek to usher her into the presence of Christ who in turn can free her from her addiction to a broken way of living. But we just don’t have time for that do we? It’s better to just point to a couple of verses about homosexuality being a sin and tell them to turn or burn. It’s short and to the point, right. I mean who wants to befriend a kleptomaniac and try to walk with them for a lifetime in hopes that one day a trip to Old Navy doesn’t result in a trip to the police station? We want results, we want them now, turn or burn is all we have time for especially if we are going to be successful in leading the masses to be slaves to Jesus.

Bob Goff has some tremendous insight on this. Take a moment and read his thoughts.

What Are the Words to Your Song?

Posted by Bob Goff

I once listened to a Taylor Swift song called “Love Story” on a flight all the way from the East Coast to the West Coast. I had the song on repeat on my ipod for some reason and as soon as it finished, it would automatically start once again. If you want to know how many times I heard that song, divide 3 minutes and 55 seconds by North America. Even though I had heard the words sung over and over, you know what? I can’t remember more than a few isolated lyrics.

I remember that it’s about a guy named Romeo and I’m not quite sure who the girl is. I’m guessing it’s Taylor; but that’s just a guess. I think that they had to overcome some adversity because the girls’ dad wasn’t keen on young Romeo. As a dad, I can respect that. But at the end of the day, I remember the song says something about “go get your white dress”… so I assume that they sorted it all out and the guy got the girl.

I don’t remember much about Taylor’s love story even though I’ve heard the song about it over a hundred times. I’ve wondered why, by contrast, we can each remember every nuance; every glance; and if we’ve fallen in love, our entire courtship story with such punishing detail. Forget the first kiss; just think about the first time you touched knees with someone you liked a lot. Yet I can hear Taylor Swift sing about her story all the way across North America, and it has no shelf life for me. It’s like her words are made of Teflon.

Not so with our own love story though. Every detail comes alive. I suppose that’s a reflection of the factory settings that we each have. Our own love stories are so poignant, so detailed, no nuanced, so unforgettable – at least to us. When it’s someone else’s love story however, we will be polite and listen, but usually it’s entirely forgettable. It’s kind of like looking at someone else’s vacation pictures in that way.

That’s how Taylor Swift’s song was to me. It wasn’t my movie, so I just settled in and listened to the banjo playing in the background as the words floated past unnoticed and unremarkable. When we can relate to a story in some way though, it becomes part of us; in other words, it matters to us. And I want more things to matter to me. Do you know why? Because things that matter to us, shape us; things that don’t matter to us as just more banjo music.

I have often wondered why the things that are talked about at bible studies I’ve been at never really stuck with me. I used to spend a lot of time shaking my head in agreement on Wednesday nights, but just because I agreed didn’t mean that I remembered. In fact, most of the time, it seemed that the nod of agreement shook whatever was said right out. I wanted to remember; I wanted what was said to matter, but like Taylor’s song, it didn’t – at least not enough. But that all changed when I started engaging my faith; when I started doing stuff. It was then that I stopped humming along to someone else’s song and started writing my own.

What I found is that when something matters to me and I have skin in the game; then I become engaged. And when I’m engaged, I remember. Some people think of engagement as the time between proposing marriage to someone and getting married. I think of engagement as the time between when we stop just agreeing and being polite and when we do something about it.

Another byproduct of engagement is that all of the canned answers to complex questions seem to melt away. I think that’s because we see ourselves in the context of something larger that is unfolding; and the details aren’t distractions, they are ladder rungs that we can pull ourselves up on. We remember because we are no longer observers. I think that Jesus had in mind that we would not just be “believers”, but “participants”. Not because it’s hip, but because it’s accurate. He wanted people that got to the “do” part of faith; not because He wanted activity, but because He wanted our faith to matter to us.

One of the ways that I make things matter to me is to move from merely learning about something to finding a way to engage it on my own terms. For example, if someone asks what I think about capital punishment, instead of reciting the party line and parroting someone else’s thoughts, I think of a teenager named Kevin in a prison accused of a capital crime. If the topic is same sex attraction, I think of a dear friend who is gay. Now, instead of talking about an issue, I’m talking about a person; someone who matters to me. I think that Jesus wired us that way so that we’d remember. And it’s not about just being politically correct, it’s about being just plain correct. We need to make our faith; our love story; our very own.

One last thought. Our own songs matter a great deal; each lyric and each refrain. But if we don’t get ours right, we can’t hear anyone else’s song. One of the things that can make us tone deaf to the lyrics of other people’s songs is having our own song either playing too loudly or skipping across the disk – not playing at all. This doesn’t mean that we should engage in endless and paralyzing personal introspection, but we need to settle down and figure out what our own song so that we can help others find thiers.

Maybe you can’t remember the words to Taylor’s song either, but what is it that helps you remember the things that are most important in your own faith?

What is it that helps you remember the things that are most important in your own faith? When is the last time you tried to remember those pivotal moments in your own story of Redemption?

Let me state from the outset that I grew up in a home with both parents. My Dad never missed a game, took me fishing, hunting and is still a great Dad. My Mom; however, was the spiritual lead…even for my Dad, as he has readily admitted in the days since her physical death. Her ability to hold Dad to Christ’s standards is the thing I believe he feared losing the most.

It was embarrassing at times as it seemed Mom would try to make some forceful corrections in our lives by introducing uncomfortable elements of faith, or in correcting the actions or words of a friend. Mom wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but in the end she loved Jesus and she had little problem letting people know. About 10 days before Mom left the hospital for the last time she had emergency surgery to remove a tumor on her spine that had paralyzed her from the waste down. The following afternoon after the surgery, and after receiving the first in a long line of bad news my Mom asked for her purple iPod Nano, unplugged the headphones, and played and through tears attempted to sing Matt Redman’s You Never Let Go. It is a memory that moves me to tears as I write. At it’s conclusion she then asked for hugs from every family member and pronounced a blessing over every single person with some words of wisdom and encouragement as she embraced them. She knew the end of this life was near for her, and she used the platform of her impending physical death to point my four cousins, my uncle, two aunts, my grandmother, my sister, my brothers, a soon to be sister-in-law and her mother to Jesus and His ways.

It was an episode that she repeated with every new visitor. Even when she could not stay awake for the visit she would wake up and pray over people before they left. Only time will tell of the fruit Jesus bears from those moments. Her moments with me have already born much fruit.

In the age where more and more families are broken and more and more fathers are absent the faith of the Mothers will be the primary guiding influence in the lives of children in America. While it is tragic that so many men have failed to be a Christ-centered spiritual guide for their families we cannot ignore supporting the mothers in their struggle to raise their children while trying to stem the tide of divorce, unwanted pregnancy, co-habitation, and the absence of men in churches. We must never let go, because He won’t.

The Absolute Power of an Apology | Donald Miller’s Blog

Detroit Pitcher Armondo Galarraga threw a perfect game. Through nine complete innings, he struck out or was sloppily hit by twenty-seven consecutive batters to complete the twenty-first perfect game in the history of baseball. But he won’t get credit for it. On the last play, Galarraga ran over to cover first and clearly hit the base before the baserunner Jason Donald arrived, and the umpire blew the call. Galarraga knew it, the fans knew it, and even Jason Donald knew it. Jim Joyce, standing within a few feet of the base, called the runner safe. Replays clearly showed he missed the call. The Tiger’s manager stormed first base irate, but Joyce stood his ground. It wasn’t until the game was over and Joyce saw the replay that he realized he’d blown the call and cost the young pitcher a coveted place in the history books. What happened next, in my opinion, is what really made this game such a great story. Both Galarraga and especially Joyce responded, well, perfectly.

It is rare to find a person with the strength to admit they were wrong. Joyce is under no obligation to apologize for a missed call. The human element gives baseball it’s charm. But after he saw the replay, he went to Galarraga and apologized, with tears in his eyes. Galarraga gave Joyce a hug and offered forgiveness, and in a subsequent press conference expressed deep sympathy for the umpire, saying nobody in the world felt worse than him. The next day, as Joyce went onto the field to call the game, Galarraga came out and handed him the batting order as a sign of reconciliation and forgiveness. Perfect.

Because Joyce was not defensive, and because he did not make excuses but took responsibility for his actions, players, fans and even the harshest people in the world, sports radio personalities, sang his praises on the radio for the rest of the week. Joyce had made a mistake, for sure, but asking forgiveness, showing remorse, not making excuses, that’s the stuff of the supernatural, and when we see it, there is something in us that recognizes the exceptional.

If you’re a leader and you’re wrong, admit it. People will respect you. Admit it and show remorse. And if you follow a leader who struggles admitting they are wrong, DO NOT FOLLOW THEM. We all make mistakes, and people who admit their mistakes are in touch with their humanity, and those who don’t are simply delusional. And if they are not willing to pay for their mistakes, you better believe they are going to make those around them pay.

Congrats to Armondo Galarraga for his perfect game and to Jim Joyce for his perfect response to making a mistake. I was more inspired by what happened in that game than I’ve been in, perhaps, any contest I’ve seen. Remarkable stuff.