Adventures

I am currently finding myself about waist-deep in an ever unfolding adventure. Humbled to be participating in the first multi-site expression of church in the Churches of Christ, I'm finding very little to be unfolding as predicted. I love adventures, always have.

Ever since I was a little kid, I've preferred the "unknown." Given the opportunity to hear something, read something, experience something where the final "chapter" is unknown, I'll take it every time over the predictable. I've always been spontaneous and love "taking turns" at speed.

I have been known to simply "drop in" on my friends (much to the consternation of my wife) with little or no notice. This tendency likely has some genetic moorings that I'm now watching regenerate in at least one of my own children (the other is more like her mom... "let's be on time and spare me the surprises" would be her mantra).

One of my favorite things to do is to get on my motorcycle (preferably with another friend also on their motorcycle, though I have gone it alone), pick a navigational direction and just "go." For several days at a time with no idea for what we'll see, or what we'll eat or where we'll sleep or whatever. It has proven to be one of the most liberating experiences of my life and I'll likely keep doing it as long as I'm able.

Right now, ministry is like one of those trips. We're launching a new church site this coming Sunday and we have no idea how many people are going to show up for the first worship service in our new location or what to expect other than we will be gathered to lead people to a deeper walk with Christ.

We've extended the invitation to over 20,000 people (if they all show up, it will be a real adventure, for sure) and we are scurrying around making all the preparations so the day goes as smoothly as possible. However, building renovations won't be concluded and there will surely be some loose ends that we can't begin to even forecast. But I am confident God is going to show up in even greater force than those who come to worship Him and it will be an amazing time.

Isn't it great to follow the Creator who can build a universe out of "nothing?" Keep us in your prayers, we have no idea how wonderful this trip is going to be, but I can assure you, it will be exciting!

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous.
Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged,
for the Lord your God will be with you
wherever you go."
Joshua 1:9

Simple Things

Thinking back over my years thus far I have to confess I've been quite fortunate. So many incredible blessings beyond counting have been mine and still I'm amazed by the things I experience every day.

I've been fortunate to sit at the feet of some incredibly talented and well-known (famous) people, I've seen some amazing things and traveled to locations some will only see on the pages of magazines (though there is still so much more I want to see and experience) and still I remain staggeringly amazed by the "simple" things.

I have found it is not the famous, the picturesque or the exotic in life that finds its deepest meaning for me, but rather it is in the simple. Catching the eye and the smile of a 5 month old child during the last song of today's worship, noticing the grandeur of an old oak tree, or simply taking a walk around the neighborhood. Sometimes the most "amazing" experiences are found in the "simple" things.

What will that little 5 month old boy become one day (I prayed he already feels the power of God's presence in his life)? How long has that old oak tree been growing next to the freeway exit (I guarantee it has been there much longer than the freeway)? How many crickets, frogs and birds are contributing to nature's chorus in my own backyard (listen closely to their music, it is magnificent)? Simply amazing, really.

If you are willing, look for the "simple" things and share what you experience over the next few days.

Culture of Abundance

Much is often said of the abundance in our culture. Fortunate or not, we find ourselves living in the wealthiest nation in the world at what is arguably the height of its riches. Sociologists make much of the ever increasing distance between the wealthy and poor and that this distance will ultimately be the downfall of our "success." I don't know what to make of such things, though it seems plausible when I consider how abundance influences my own life.

Earlier today, I continued pondering the expanse of my own abundance. Yesterday, I began culling through my closet of clothes because I simply can't stand the thought any longer of having so much and consistently wearing so little (not that I wear "skimpy" clothes, but I tend to wear the same things with frequency). So, I'm planning on donating a bunch of clothes to our local benevolence ministry.

The ironic thing in this great culture of abundance is considering the things I lack. The things I lack are not of a material nature, but are rather things like the discipline to spend even more time in quiet reflection before the Lord. Things like taking the time to call my sister more often and catch up on her life. Things like stopping long enough to watch birds bathe themselves in puddles (or take dirt "baths" in piles of loose dirt -- that's always been a mystery to me as to why they do that -- there is nothing about a dirt bath that I find inviting).

I suppose my problem with the whole thing is that I live as though there will always be "enough" of everything in my life -- a culture of abundance. For example, I tend to live like there will always be time to do these things I mentioned I don't seem to have "enough" time to do. I try to be disciplined with my time and maximize the effort I invest in my life, but perhaps the culture of abundance deceives me. Maybe there is a better way...

To think of time as a precious commodity... rather than one of abundance, makes me wonder how my life would change (I realize this cognitively, but emotionally and spiritually there are new depths to plumb). Would I become even more "possessive" of my time and treat people or projects with disrespect if I didn't deem them "worthy" of my time? Would I become even more liberal with my time and allow for even more intrusion than I do now? I don't know. But it seems to me there must be a better balance in there, somewhere. Don't you think?

What are your thoughts about our "culture of abundance" and how do you think it influences our life? I'm curious to know your thoughts.

How about taking a little time, giving it a little thought and then sharing what you discover about it? If you have the time... of course.

Wild Fire

Most people are quick to proclaim which element of their physical being for which they have little if any affinity. For some, they might declare it is their hips that could benefit from some renovation (now that I think of it, I don't believe I've ever heard a man complain about his hips). For others it might be their hair (and then I've heard a "mess" of men complain about their hair -- or typically the lack thereof). I am, however, most certain I've never heard anyone complain about their tongue. That is simply something you don't hear people talking about! "Eeewww... I hate my tongue," does not roll off the lips of body-conscious teenage girls. While hormonally-driven teenage boys who will brag all day about their biceps or "six-pack" abs will never be heard bragging about how awesome their tongue is (at least I'd hope not). It just doesn't happen (at least it shouldn't -- that'd be just a little too weird).

Perhaps this explains the relative lack of maintenance the human tongue receives. Do you brush your tongue with regularity (kind of a personal question, I know)? My dentist told me long ago vigorously brushing of the tongue was a way of preventing what he determined as "unsightly breath." (Now, I'm still trying to figure out just how "unsightly breath" would smell and it seems to me that if one's breath has deteriorated to the point of being even "sightly" (let alone "unsightly") it would likely be time to consider a new oral hygiene regimen).

I've always had a unique relationship with my tongue. I recall wiling away hours in school, training my tongue to do various "tricks." The standard "nose touch" and the typically routine "half-pipe" roll was an early accomplishment along with the "barrel-rolls" both to the right and to the left. After some practice, I got to the point of being able to fold my tongue over backwards, sticking it "front over back" (think taco laying on its side, long edge facing you) and keeping it there for as long as I pleased. This won the acclaim of many grade school counterparts. I was one of only two kids in my entire school whom I knew could even come close to that trick. My crowing achievement in "tongue tricks arena" however was when I was in graduate school. Suffering from a serious sinus infection, one day I was scratching the back of my throat with my tongue when I accidentally swallowed my whole tongue (while driving a car I might add). Instantly I began gasping for breath, thinking this would be an inexplicable way to die! I could hear the officers asking my wife, "Just how long was he epileptic?" and her replying, "I don't know, he never shared that fact with me!"

Shocked nearly beyond recovery at the time, I finally had the presence of mind to reach my own finger back into my throat and boldly "rescue" myself. I thought, "I really have heard of people dying from this!" So... I did the most logical thing a 22-year-old guy would do and.... I did it again, only intentionally this time! Within a week, I could swallow my tongue (without the instinctive gag reflex kicking in) at will. What fun, I thought! Dry graduate school lectures would never be the same!!! I had another "trick" in the repertoire! Throughout the years since, it has served as a great "party gag" and in particular social settings I could have probably earned some extra spending money with that tongue trick -- which isn't really my point.

While I've spent years being aware of what "tricks" my physical tongue can accomplish, I'll confess I've not always appreciated the harm it can render as well. What mighty "fires" can be started by the "spark" of the tongue (see James 3:1-13).

When I think of the power of the human tongue it is surprising to me it doesn't get the attention it deserves. These days, both men and women pierce their tongues for various "decorator purposes." While people will install all kinds of interesting implements in their tongues, I wonder if we humans are equally aware of how "disguised" our tongues can be. The subtle veils of deception our tongues will garner often betray the true heart within. We may speak with "designer" tongues, but the language is as impostor as fake jewels.

Lately I've been working on my tongue, not to accomplish any more tricks, but merely trying to make it more presentable in the image of the Savior to whom I try to devote my days and nights. Consistency, accuracy, sensitivity, leniency are all things with which I'm trying to tame my tongue. If I get those things figured out, maybe my tongue will be more presentable and I won't have to rely on the "tricks" anymore.

How about you? How are you working on your tongue? If you are working on it, what are you discovering?

Distance

Even casual or recreational writing is a demanding discipline. Time, energy, attention are stern taskmasters and must be respected and heeded appropriately. What is there to say when one refuses to submit the time, energy and attention to accomplish the task? Best to keep quiet, I suppose.

June 9 was the last date of entry to my blog. Obsessively moved at times by many things in my life, blogging had become one and yet I found myself growing scattered, weary and taxed for the time to devote to it. I also found myself drifting as with what words to choose. A hiatus was therefore in order.

If there were any who read this blog with frequency, my hunch is they have since moved on. If you are one of those and happen to find yourself returning to this particular entry, I apologize for the unexcused absence. Perhaps this cliche may suffice, "absence makes the heart grow fonder." I would want this to be the case, at least.

Some distance from the discipline of writing I believe has refreshed me. Who would want to read something of someone who feels as if they have little of nothing to say? Frequently, I read others who seem to write simply because they have to not because it is something which flows from within them. I have at times allowed my blogging to take time from my wife and children and even if there was content worth considering (and I hesitate to suggest there really was), at what price should it come? I have to wonder.

The distance over the past few weeks has been blessed. I'm prayerfully considering wading back into the blog water again. There are fascinating things happening in the world around me and perhaps these will stoke the flame to write a bit more. It is with anticipation the content will merit the return.

Thank you for reading. I'm humbled by your presence.

Peace be with you.

Winding Road Ahead

Taking off for a few days of R&R (rubber and RPM's). Leaving tomorrow with a friend to do some serious motorcycling in the Ozarks and further parts unknown.

There is something about motorcycling that is different than traveling by any other vehicle. The inherent freedom of only two wheels, one rider is liberating alone. But then add in, not knowing where you are going to ride, where you'll sleep or where or what you'll eat and you have the formula for great fun, thrilling adventure and general all round relaxation. Riding this way in a visually amazing part of the world must be one of the great frontiers still available to 21st century man. 24 hours and counting down...

The "twistier" the road the better, with hopes of something good to eat and a hot shower at the other end of each day is calling my name. "Marco Polo and friend" with tales of adventure shall return. This always promises to be fun...

Ahhh... R&R on two wheels. For me, it personally doesn't get much better than this!

Your prayers are always appreciated.

So Much Beauty

Yesterday life was amazing at every turn. Following weeks of what seemed like nearly constant rain, the North Texas area this week has seen nothing but radiant sun, brilliantly blued skies and warming temperatures. Humidity rises each day to greet the dawn while the full of the day holds the promise of Creator continuing to sustain all created wonders of His hands.

For the fourth consecutive day, blessings rolled under my two wheels as I darted here and there on what has been an excessively transient week of ministry. Yesterday was virtually booked solid from hour upon hour upon hour. Rather than the usual tens of miles traveled typically from garage to office and back again, this week hundreds of miles have rolled under tires and up the odometer finding me on one church campus or another, zipping from one appointment to the next all while doing what avid motorcyclists live and love to do -- ride. This is a beauty than only a relative few can appreciate.

But yesterday... yesterday saw beauty culminate in a wonderful span of just a couple hours.

It might be Southern hospitality, the richness of the clay soil or maybe something in the water, but there is something about this place. Arguably more beautiful places exist, but there is something about North Texas. Upon my arrival here approximately two years ago I often heard of the Dallas Arboretum, but I had somehow avoided my first visit. However, like a distant voice calling out from behind a thick russet of foliage, something beckoned me to come. Not to merely "go there," but to "be in this place."

Through the gracious hospitality of a friend, an active member and volunteer, the blessing was mine to visit the beauty of the Dallas Arboretum. Walking through the established stone entrance was as if I entered into the arms of the Creator himself. This place embraced me as if to suggest "why has it taken you so long?" I wondered myself.

For two hours my friend and I walked, talked and absorbed breath-taking beauty. As Rich Mullins once wrote, "There's so much beauty around us for just two eyes to see, but everywhere I go, I'm looking..." I could have stayed... not for hours, but for days.

Slowing down long enough to hear the articulate language of the breeze hushing through the trees or to catch a bloom practicing its tethered dance before being released from its duty to surrender one life for another is beautiful. So much beauty... I will return, and none too soon.

Later brought a gathering to meet at our home as a band of Christ-followers eager to go deeper, farther, longer and more sincerely with the humble One. So much beauty, two eyes (and ears) surely can't take it all in.

Finally, finishing the night in a gathering of literally hundreds of "two-wheeled" types and their machines... beauty of a different variety to be sure and of a very specific audience, but so much beauty remains... beauty is so often and so much in the eye of the beholder, isn't it?

So much beauty...

Remembering to give thanks

If you're like me, there has been more than one occasion when something you have spent considerable time praying for comes to fruition, but it is not until some time later you remember to give thanks for the very thing for which you so passionately sought the Lord.

Today... it has been raining off and on with steady frequency and some sessions with considerable volume in some cloud bursts. Several months ago we were under an official "drought" condition and I was among many I know who were persistent in asking God to "send His rain."

Over the past several months God has been faithful in bringing the rain on this land and we are very close to being "officially" out of the drought. Though I've been thankful with each storm we've seen, it struck me with a greater sense of urgency today to give thanks.

God is good, all the time, rain or shine.

Listening for Silence

There is an old adage that proclaims, "Silence is golden" and to a large extent I believe it.

Sitting in a movie theater and having to endure "whispering" on the part of conversational viewers sitting nearby is always such an irritation. Or in the same context, having some clueless person not only allow their cellphone to ring aloud, but to answer that same phone ought to be grounds for expulsion or worse. "Silence is golden" when one is on the receiving end of the noise. But what about on the other end? As the noise producer, when is silence "golden?"

Have you ever known someone who simply talks "too much?" It is one thing to be aware of someones propensity toward verbosity, but to be self-differentiated enough to know when one is speaking too much themselves is quite another thing. That takes some real discipline and self-awareness.

What is it that drives one to speak more than necessary? Too often it is a function of a person simply loving the sound of their own voice a little too much. A subtle function of pride allows us to believe our words are simply that important that we must be heard. And yet, some of the most wise and helpful communicators I have experienced in my life have been people who were humble enough to appreciate that "silence is golden." They speak only when necessary and have the compelling ability to allow me to "talk my way" through things without monopolizing the dialogue. The biblical author James once wrote, "My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry..." (James 1:19).

I'm trying to better listen for my own silence and hoping that an increased desire for the humility of Christ will result in my silence being "golden" for those around me as well.

"He was oppressed and afflicted,
yet he did not open his mouth;
he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,
and as a sheep before her shearer is silent,
so he did not open his mouth."
(Is. 53:7)

What Do You Expect? Part 2

A couple of days ago, while sitting in S'Bucks for a planning meeting, I watched what was obviously a female "mentor" of four teenage girls. During the entire time I was in my meeting, they were in their meeting and occasionally they would capture my attention with giggles and laughter. Having given a large chunk of my life to the development of teenagers, the "mentor-Mom" had my honor as she was giving up her time and energy to lead these young women closer to Jesus (I saw the "mentor-Mom" had her Bible, a discussion guide book and the all-to-familiar look of a teen worker/volunteer).

Impressed by the girl's attentiveness to their leader's leading, I noticed they were about to pray close to the time my meeting was wrapping up. As they began to bow their heads for the prayer, one of the girls spotted a teenage boy approaching the door. While all the girls initially bowed their heads, slowly... one-by-one... each girl eventually left the attention of their leader's prayer and watched the boy walking into S'Bucks. They all recovered the "prayer posture" just about the time the leader said her "Amen." All's well that ends well, I guess! Or maybe not...

That image has stayed with me over the past couple days and I've been wondering "what did those teen girls expect from that moment of prayer?" I know the powerful draw of a "cute guy" for a 16 year-old-girl (I currently have one of those girls living in my own house), but is it powerful enough to take a young woman away from a conversation with the Creator of the universe? Perhaps. But maybe the girls are not altogether to blame. The issue may rest with the rest of us who have led them. Have we taught them to expect and anticipate being in the presence of God?

What do we really "expect" when we pray, when we worship or when we read Scripture? Do we really expect to be in the presence of the Almighty God? Do we really expect an encounter that may change our lives? If we do expect it, do we "anticipate" something will, in fact, happen as a result of being with God? My hunch is we are not as assured or as cognizant of it as we could be.

I know in the life of a 16-year-old girl, the attention of a teen boy can be the highlight of the day. But when I think of eternal life and the power of knowing God, I have to think we who are older need to take the responsibility for this one. For a teen girl to "diss" a boy for a moment of prayer, she's going to have to believe in the power of what she's doing and maybe we've simply not modeled expectation enough for them.

What do you think?

What Do You Expect?

Several years ago, while sitting in the top row of an arena filled with over 16,000 adoring fans of a particular professional sports team, it struck me like a lightning bolt, I was in a "worship service!" While it wasn't your traditional "church service," it was still categorically worship. This professional event, for which people spent considerable amounts of money to attend, was the "worship" of the masses. Win or lose, people still came and paid (literally) homage to something (and in many cases someone) beyond themselves. 16,000 people were exalting an entity that was "bigger" than they ever will be. Few of those 16,000 knew any of the players personally, and yet they let their emotions soar in praise as they would call players by name. All 15,999 (I was too long gone in thought at this point to really actively participate) chanted mantras repetitively with expert precision, "Beat L.A." or "Aaaaaiiiir-ball...aaaaaiiiir-ball." It was an amazing thing to witness from my perspective, so high in the rafters of the "sanctuary."

There is something compelling about worship. Transcending form, worship is more about function and is something of a natural expression of the "created" for the "Creator." Worship can be suppressed with minimal effort but this does not reduce the reality that one day "every knee will bow and every tongue will confess" the reality that calls all of humanity to worship the Creator.

What is interesting to me is the quantifiable difference between "worshiping the profane" and "worshiping the Divine." While I can be as guilty as the next guy of rooting (I'd like to think not quite worshiping) my favorite team or athlete, no matter how hard I chant, or yell or sing or "praise" my favorite team, there is nothing substantive that changes in my life as a result of that experience. I am, in no direct way, transformed by the contemporary "worship" of the "arena mass." I may walk away pleased if my team wins, but I'm not changed (especially for the better). The guy who walked into the arena is the same guy who walks out of the arena (okay, I may be a pound or two heavier from all the junk food I've eaten and $100 or more poorer from all the money I've spent -- but other than that, my life remains unchanged).

Coming into the presence of the Divine is to be changed, transformed, to experience a metamorphosis. To worship "the King, all glorious above and gratefully sing His wonderful love" means as a result of His exaltation and glorification, I, a worshiper, am different as a direct result of the worship experience.

This is an important distinction from your "garden variety" (Madison Square Garden perhaps being one possibility) worship experience. There are numerous examples of people coming into the presence of the Divine and being changed. Are we one of them when we worship?

If we worship, but aren't changed, what is the reason? Maybe it has something to do with what we expect going into the experience?

More on that tomorrow...

The Death of Humility

It was there in the beginning. But somehow along the way, it was lost. Like the mysteriously disappearing sock in the dryer, you put them both in there, but somehow only one returns! My drawer holds many of those and why I don't just throw them in the trash continues bewilder me. Maybe I'm waiting for some sort of redemption from beyond the sock world? Perhaps one of them will come wandering home like a lost puppy?

The very nature of being "created beings" elicits a response of humility. How can the "pot" tell the "potter" what it's intended purpose will be? Total and unabated reliance and dependence upon God was what the first man and woman must have enjoyed. God made the earth and the heavens and everything found in and upon them. It was perfection created and personified in the glory of God's presence. The crowning jewel of God's creative nature came forth in the form of dust and breath. Man became a created being in the very image of God. They would walk together in the cool of day, until one day only one of them showed up for the walk.

Among all the creatures of the earth, there was none suitable enough to be man's partner for life. And from man's own side, God tore a place in Adam's flesh, took out a rib and fashioned an even more outstanding creature (from the guy's point of view anyway!). She was "bone of bone and flesh of flesh." Imagine man's exuberance in feeling the pain but finally realizing the gain! For this reason future men would (and continue to) leave their parents and be united to a wife and they will become one flesh.

Together they were in the Garden. Everything could have remained so good, so right... but happy endings are not easily found, even in the Garden of Eden. "Made in the image of God" apparently wasn't sufficient. Man and woman simply desired more... more knowledge and more wisdom... more "like God" and less dependence and reliance upon Him. The Serpent said, "You will not surely die," and to a certain degree the crafty snake was correct. While man and woman didn't physically cease to be, something definitive died that day. The spiritual breath ran out at the end of innocence and with it, humility in its tracks.

Humility plays itself out in utter dependence upon God. But things changed that day. The "pains of childbirth increased" (guys know nothing about that kind of pain -- though I've heard gall stones are a good role play) and the men assumed provider responsibilities for the family that are sometimes debated even to this day. The guys went to work... "painfully toiling" in order to eat, sweating from the brow and eventually "returning to the dust" minus the breathing part.

Hoping that other sock might be found, several "singles" lie in wait in my second dresser drawer. Redemption for those seems hopeless at this point (some I've had for years). The redemption of humility is a much more certain find. The One through whom all was Created came back in the form of "breathing dust" to show us the way back to humility. He was in very nature God, yet He didn't consider equality with God to be something He should hold onto. Instead, He considered Himself "nothing" and took the very nature of a servant and though He looked like any other "Adam," He did what most "Adam's" can't (or won't) do and became obedient to death, even death on the cross. In this act alone, He redeemed humility and showed the rest of us how it is done.

Because of this, we was lifted up by the only One who could lift Him up and was given the name that one day will be bowed to by every "Adam" and "Eve" who have ever lived. To the glory of the Father, the "death of humility" will become the "redemption of humility" and some day things will be like they were in the very beginning.

No more missing socks.

"Humble yourselves before the Lord,
and he will lift you up."
(James 4:10)

Falling Off the Planet

A little less than a week ago, my entire cyber-existence came to a screeching halt. While watching the NBA playoffs on the big screen and tracking stats and stuff on my laptop, something went seriously, tragically and terminally wrong. The very heart of my laptop stopped with a DNR toe-tag attached. The Dell was terminally phased.

While realizing this is an everyday occurrence in the life of most people exposed to the marvels of technology, fortunately for me this was the first time I've ever experienced the demise of a hard-drive. Coming on as suddenly as it did caused me to realize how "quickly life can change!" In the "twinkling of an eye" all can be right with the world and then suddenly all is wrong! One would think given my penchant for motorcycling, I would have a stronger awareness of such vulnerability.

Here I sit, nearly a week later after having fallen off the electronic planet. Cut-off from cyber-existence, the first 48 hours were the worst. I was like an addict craving his next hit. Sitting in my office I would turn to my side desk to send an email or Google search something and find myself reaching for a phantom computer. My connection to the outside world as vacant and void. I am here to testify it was downright horrible! "Am I that addicted and dependent on technology?" I queried. Painfully the reply was affirmative. But if I am so addicted, everyone else with whom I communicate frequently must be equally so! But that doesn't make it right.

I had to do some writing shortly after the disk's "funeral" and realized the patterned behavior of typing words rather than hand writing them has secretly crept into my creative process. Like a cold-turkey smoker leaving cigarettes behind, I found it difficult to find words using an old fashioned pen and paper. it was as if my mind has attached itself to the ends of my fingers. Has the sound of clicking keys and the glow of an LCD screen become that much a part of my creative landscape that it is difficult to create without it? Interesting, isn't it?

Through this electronic sabbatical, I also learned a fine lesson in the art of backing up documentation. Thanks to our excellent Minister of Technology and the computer support contractors working with our ministry group, all of my important data was saved. I did lose my list of "Favorites," but it was coming time to clear those out anyway. I'll consider the occasion a "Spring Cleaning" of sorts.

Many lessons learned in the past week to pass along: 1) Sometimes it is healthy to disengage from technology (my wife actually enjoyed spending time with me without a laptop sitting between us); 2) Human communication is actually enhanced when you have to get up, walk across the floor and talk face-to-face with someone; 3) If data is important enough to you, you'll make sure it is appropriately and intentionally backed up. If you don't back it up, it probably isn't that important to you; and finally, 4) Give thanks for the technology available to us. This is an increasingly amazing time to be alive.

Addicted or not, it is nice to be back on the planet!

Underdogs

Laptop literally sitting on lap, I'm watching game five of the 2007 NBA playoffs featuring the Dallas Mavericks playing against the Golden State Warriors. With 8 minutes left, the score is tied 97-97 in what could be the last game of the season for the Mavs. What has made this series so amazing to watch is the alleged "distance" between these two teams. The Mavs are the #1 seed in the bracket having the best regular season record in franchise history, the Warriors are the #8 seed who made the playoffs on the last night of the regular season. Never before has a #1 seed lost a series to the #8 seed in the NBA playoffs history. It could happen tonight. At this second, the Warriors are now up by two points.

There is the usual Hollywood-type drama in tonight's game... former Mavs coach (Don Nelson) now facing his former assistant coach Avery Johnson. A list of well known Mav players facing a roster of relatively "unknown" Warrior players. A team that hasn't won a playoff series since something like the 1960's (the Warriors) going up against the team that only lost in the NBA finals last season (Dallas Mavericks). All that drama is there, of course. Warriors are now up by six points with less than four minutes remaining. It is getting tense and I'm tempted to just close the lid on this laptop.

What I realize watching the seconds peel off the clock is that I am the Golden State Warriors -- we all are really -- we are all "underdogs."

I love rooting for the underdog, though because of my current residency and having so many die-hard Maverick fans for friends, I'm inclined to want to see them win (though I quietly really pull for the Phoenix Suns). However, it is not unusual for me to root for the underdog in sporting events where I have no vested emotional interest because I relate to the underdog.

In the faith journey of all Christians, we have to see ourselves as the underdog. Considering our addictive tendency toward sin, our perpetual penchant to do the very thing we don't want to do and not do the very thing we ought to do (see what Paul has to say about it in Romans 7) we have to see that left to ourselves alone we are underdogs. We have no business shooting "lights out" in what is the most amazing "game" of history. But that is the difference Jesus makes. He is Light shining in the darkness where darkness should be winning!

Favorite and underdog, together, Jesus Christ gives the believer in Him the victory.

Do you know what the score is? No matter what the score board may say, Christ keeps his people in the game and we live to play again.

"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."
John 16:33

M&M-ology

A busy week has precluded my being at the "blog" table much this week. But while we're on the most recent topic, how do you eat your "M's?"

There is something about eating M&M candies that prevents me from popping a whole bunch of them in my mouth and just chomping away. It would appear there is a refined art to eating M&M's like there is to eating sunflower seeds (another favorite baseball pastime of mine). In my opinion, one can't merely slam a handful of M&M's into their mouth and chomp away. There is a better way...

Take your "M" and greet the "M" (there is only one M on each piece) with a smile of recognition and appreciation. Acknowledge its specific color and shape (not all M's are created equal by the way and some are downright mutant (those are fun to eat) but all still pack that wonderful flavorful experience. While appreciating the color, there is no truth to the rumor that difference colors have a different taste. Blind taste tests will prove this point.

Now comes the exciting part... to crack an M between your teeth and accomplish a "perfect split" is the best experience in M consumption. A "perfect split" separates the shell right around the radius of the candy and splits the candy coated shell from the milk chocolate on the inside, thus a "perfect split." Now stick the tip of your tongue in that empty shell side and break it against the back of your front teeth. Notice all the little pieces. Fun!

Next hold the exposed milk chocolate side of the M open side down on your tongue and let the milk chocolate melt onto your tongue. This is better than drinking chocolate milk... creamy, yummy, good!

If the other side of the shell is still in tact after letting the mild chocolate melt (a rare occasion) crunch that thing into oblivion and reach for another candy. Repeat the process!

If I gave this much attention to the subtleties of my relationship with Christ, how different would my walk with Him be?

Oh, by the way, how do you eat your M's?

The "Perfect" Candy

Never known for having much of a "sweet tooth," I can usually pass on most desserts or candies that come my way. I've taken a pass on some great looking cakes or other delicious delectables without much trouble. I'd love to say it is will-power, but it isn't. It is just that my palate doesn't beg for sweet stuff.

All my life though, I have enjoyed M&M candies. You know the slogan "melts in your mouth, not in your hand" (though that is a bit of a misnomer, because unless your hands are only slightly above the temperature of an ice cube, holding even a few for a moment will eventually result in a veritable "rainbow of color" in your hand). All-in-all however, I'm inclined to think M&M's may be the "perfect" candy. What can be better than rich milk chocolate surrounded by a hard candied shell? It is the best of both "candy worlds!" M&M's could possibly be the greatest candy ever created!

I ate so many packages of M&M's in high school, that a few people actually started called me "M" for short (thankfully that tag didn't stick). It was a rare day I didn't have at least one package in my possession and friends were always hitting me up "for some M's."I liked them because it was possible to "graze" on a package for most of the day (can't do that with your favorite candy bar). You could keep them in your bookbag and (if they didn't get exposed to heat) were "good to go" at a moment's notice. I also liked the fact that I could sneak them into my mouth even in classes where the instructor prohibited eating in class. That was always a bit of a challenge to see if I could get away with it. I'll generally take a good challenge.

M&M colors have stayed basically the same over the years (save the introduction of "blue" a few years ago) and there is a certain urban legend surrounding one other color in particular (I can neither confirm nor deny the veracity of the legend -- so let's leave it there). How many other candies can claim an "urban legend" surrounding it? That must account for something when it comes to being named the "perfect" candy, shouldn't it?

M&M's transcend all other candies because they have actually acquired certain existential qualities and status. Not only in addition to ordering specific colors or color combinations (a friend of mine once order thousands in a favorite sport team's colors), there is also "custom labeling" available so that now your M&M's can express your own personality (of course, it still has to fit on an M&M) and you can even create an M&M character to look like yourself. Click here to check it out! Does any other can have this kind of essence about it? That is status, baby! It has even been rumored scientists have located the M&M molecule! Snickers can't say that!

A few years ago, my Dad (a retired, but semi-professional woodworker) made a really ingenious wood and glass M&M dispenser. It now sits on my desk and I buy my M's by the pound (literally). All throughout the day, co-workers come by my office, say "hello" and then grab a few M's. The dispenser distributes a maximum of two per pull so it makes it easier to pace consumption. It is humorous, because I can always tell when someone comes by only for M's. People will say the lamest things to get to the "perfect candy!"

If I can go on about a simple candy which is realistically far from "perfect" (it only approaches perfection in my own opinion) imagine what can be said about the One who is, truly Perfect?

What is your "perfect" candy and what amazing thing about the Perfect One comes to your mind when you think about "perfection?"

"O praise the greatness of our God! He is the Rock, his works are perfect,
and all his ways are just."
(Deut. 32:4)

Pray the Paper

As initially moved as I was regarding the Virginia Tech shootings, I have not been true to typical form. In the past, when nationally known tragedy has struck, I've been glued to broadcast mediums to soak in as much information as possible. The East-Asian Tsunamis, 9/11, Oklahoma City Bombing, etc. have always sparked a deep curiosity in me and I have spent considerable time seeking information to somehow cope with the devastation.

This week, I've not had the energy or been able to afford the time to pursue similar information on the tragic events of Monday. I only know the number of people killed, that the shooter was despondent and of Asian descent, that one of the victims was a holocaust survivor but was found perished in the shooting and that today the university announced all the victims would be conferred with posthumous honorary degrees. Beyond these few details, I have no knowledge of the facts. But I have nonetheless been deeply moved by this occurrence.

The one thing I've found I could do is pray. Why it seems many Christ-followers turn to prayer as a secondary resource (or later), I don't really know. I've always held the opinion that there is nothing more powerful or effectual a Christ-follow can do than to pray. To evoke the power of the Almighty on any given situation is nothing to be reduced to merely a rote exchange of patterned language. Prayer can be a "verbal wrestling" with the God of the universe and can bring not only understanding, but powerful change as well. I've experienced the incredible transformation prayer can bring (sometimes instantaneously) and find myself thrilled by it.

Not having even a list of victims, this week I simply numbered these souls 1 - 33 (yes, even the assailant -- and I figured God could understand which was which) and have been praying for these unfortunate persons, their families, loved ones and classmates that the peace of Christ might dwell with their hurting souls.

Though it has been a long week for me, my week has been nothing in comparison to the fatigue and weariness the survivors must be experiencing. This week I'm strangely energized by this discipline of "praying the paper" (though I've not even taken the time to read the paper). I feel more productive in this discipline of prayer than merely knowing facts and recounting endless video loops on CNN or network news. Each time I see a flag at half-staff, I'm moved not only to mourn, but to continue praying. I've partnered with this event in a way substantially different than in the past.

If you were to "pray the paper" in today's daily, in what section would you begin praying?

Senseless and Wordless

Today our country witnessed the worse single incident shooting attack in its history. On the campus of Virginia Tech, some 32 people's lives were cut short at the hand of an apparently crazed gunman who then took his own life. It is a senseless tragedy. How can one explain something so mindlessly barbaric?

I am deeply saddened and prayerful for dozens of parents, spouses and friends who's day began like any other and ended like no other.

God bless those who grieve, mourn and wail. Though my tears have yet to fall on your behalf, I believe they will. Until then, I'm wordless.

Peace of Christ be with you.

Cool Spaces

It seems to me the longer God blesses each of us to live, the more we begin to appreciate the "little" things in life. The smile of a stranger, the scent of a bloom as we pass by, the first sip of a good cup of coffee or the gentle hug of a loved one. These "little" things are what seasons our life with beauty, blessings and joy.

One of the things I have come to really appreciate in the past few years has been "space." Not the "final frontier, to boldly go where no man has gone before variety" (though that really fascinates me and can consume a significant chunk of reading or net-surfing time for me), but the "living spaces" my life encounters.

I've been affective about my space for as long as I can remember. I recall the frequent times during my childhood when my mother would come into my bedroom and just "hang out" for a while because she simply "liked the space." The right lighting (ask my patient wife how crazy I am about lighting in our home -- it is the first thing that has be to "right" whenever we move into a new space and I'm always adjusting dimmers to "fit the mood") the aromas, the sounds all contribute to a space being "right" for me.

Some of my favorite spaces are out in creation, but living in a major metropolitan center, that is not always an easy thing to find. Therefore, I find myself finding "new interior spaces" that speak to me and bring meaning into my life. I have several but don't like to advertise them much due to their relative vulnerability at becoming something other than what they are for me.

As I write this entry today, I'm sitting in one of those spaces. Sitting in a dark corner, upstairs in a loft, I have retreated here for a great cup of coffee and in search of some creativity. There is something amazing about "space" in that it can either work against you or for you in any given moment. Today, this space is working for me and I have a wonderful sense of energy from it (of course, that might be the coffee, too).

The thought of going into the office with our current construction noises (we are in the home-stretch of a major facilities renovation), epoxy fumes, phones ringing, doors knocking and emails pinging (though in this space I do have the benefit of free Internet access -- how cool is that?) to get some of the day's deadlines met, I simply felt I had to seek some solace and proper space.

I think Jesus must have had the same need. In Gethsemane he went away to experience what would be the deepest moment of encounter with His Father He would ever face and it was apparently a pattern of his behavior to seek "solitary places" (Mark 1:35) where He prayed and restored Himself.

Today, I'll share a photo of this space I'm enjoying and give praise to God for all my "spaces" and for the power they hold in my life. This has been an incredibly productive and creative hour I've spent in this "space" and my hope is that if you don't have special "space" (or spaces) in your life, you will begin seeking it/them and allow it/them to bless your life in significant ways.

Peace and productivity be yours in the One who created space and may you "boldly go where no one has gone before."

Where You're Coming From

It has seemingly always been my fortunate circumstance to have been in churches where "recovery" (though we didn't always call it that) was a theme. Many people had a story of finding Jesus that was fairly dramatic and emotionally persuasive. Recovery from drugs, sexual exploits or other life abuse was a common occurrence to my recollection and I was always compelled by how moving these stories of life-recovery were.

Early in my college career, I remember one particular person "recovering" from significant life abuse and finding "new life" in Jesus with whom I became particularly close. We grew beyond typical casual acquaintance and conversations to begin sharing some of the "secrets" both of and to living life. I was always impressed with how clarified his story was and how emotionally compelling I found it. I was frequently moved to hear of how God had "saved him" from his own selfish destruction and I sometimes felt my own story was a bit "flat" and, honestly, a bit boring.

One day I confessed to him how I wished that the story of my own faith journey was as emotionally compelling, dramatic and as convincing as his. It was then that he shared something that has stayed with me through the decades. He said, "You are so fortunate... you've been in church since you were six weeks old. You had parents that not only taught you how to pray, but also listened to you pray. Your meals were family occasions where people shared life and love. You had a community of faith who looked out for you and cared if you knew Christ or not. You had Christian friends who walked in faith with you and picked you up when you fell down. And do you know what? From my point of view, that is an amazing testimony and I'd would trade for that story in an instant!" I was shocked at the persuasion of my own story as it came from the mouth of someone else and realized the reality of things really came down to a matter of perspective.

While lamenting my own lack of "dramatic testimony," this relatively new follower of Christ caused me to realize where I was coming from also "had some teeth" as well. It is an amazing thing when people are fortunate enough to find Jesus at a very young age. That day I came to know that we all have a story and it doesn't have to be a "Hollywood drama" to have validity and power. I guess it just depends on where you're coming from.

Sadly and regretfully, since that time so many years ago, I've managed to add some drama to my own faith adventure that I'd rather take back and "do over again" if I had the opportunity. In my own form of spiritual "recovery" I see God taking my mistakes and failures and making some Good News out of it through the grace of Christ and I can how see how my scars are being a blessing to the life of others. But the roots of my story still speak as well and if not for others, it still speaks a powerful testimony for my own life. I have been very fortunate and so richly blessed.

I guess it just depends on where you're coming from.

So where are you coming from? What is your story? The longer I live, the more I realize every story is amazing in itself and God's love is an amazing thing as well.