Dear Keith

I can’t explain it. You totally caught me off guard, and honestly, sort of freaked me out.

Friday at lunch I was telling LeeAnn a story. Like a flash in a dream, there you were sitting beside her. And you were gone as soon as you had come. You took my breath away. And then I probably freaked her out.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the empty booth across from me. I couldn’t speak, overwhelmed with shocks of joy and sadness. The sight of you right beside her just like it was a normal day here on earth was simultaneously bizarre, natural, and beautiful.

When I finally composed myself, all I could say to LeeAnn to explain my sudden pause was, “I wish Keith was here to hear this story.” Typical LeeAnn, she flowed with it. But she said something that still has me thinking. After stating she wished the same thing, she told me my moment was honoring. I suppose it was.

I was at your memorial service. I didn’t share anything from the stage. So I never publicly shared any statements of honor. But apparently, twelve years later, it’s coming out. Had I had the opportunity to say something then, who knows what I would have said. But having had you on my mind for two days, here are three things I honor you for.

You took phone calls. It’s been almost 15 years since we had a very memorable phone call. I was beside myself. You were steady as a rock. You talked me off the ledge and gave me courage when mine was gone. Because of your faithful presence to your friends, many of us carried on when we thought it was impossible.

You cheered. No, I’m not talking about for Alabama, although that’s true. I’m talking about your unending support for anyone pursuing growth, needing support, or lacking that “I believe in you” voice. I’m guessing it was true for men and women, but you seemed to have a God-given heart for guys that is rare and therefore highly valuable.

You gave. The fact that you X-men-like showed up at lunch testifies to this. But the biggest testament to this is what I see now in your family. They carry on the giving. They know how to give because you modeled it and never stopped.

No, you weren’t physically at Ferraro’s on Friday. But without question, you were spiritually. If my tears and these words honor you, so be it. I’m grateful to have seen you and to have been reminded of these important ways you blessed so many.

Thank you for joining the booth…Roll Tide!

Photo by Ambitious Studio* – Rick Barrett on Unsplash

Now I Know Why

Rarely do I regret reading a book. Actually, if I think that’s going to be the case, I don’t finish it. Again, that’s rare.

However, often I finish a book and think, “I’m glad I read it. It’s not for everyone, but maybe there’s someone I’ll be able to share this book with.” That’s exactly what happened today.

The last book I read was Finding God in the Waves by Mike McHargue. Actually, I listened to it through Hoopla on audio. I believe I came across it by reference in another book I read earlier this year, so I put it in my queue.

I hadn’t heard of McHargue. But apparently his writings and podcasts have created a stir. I see why, which is why I know his book isn’t for everyone. But I met Dave today, and it was obvious I had to share this book with him.

Why isn’t important. What’s important is that sometimes we’re fortunate to experience firsthand, and even within days, what God is up to. We can wonder and be curious. Sometimes we see it; sometimes we don’t. I counted it a rich moment to say to Dave, “Now I know why I read that book.”

Photo by kaleb tapp on Unsplash

An Altar in the World, Meditation #6

On recommendation, I recently read An Altar in the World by Barbara Brown Taylor. It’s subtitled A Geography of Faith. In the spirit of that lane, rather than offer a review I’ve selected my top highlights and will offer a meditation post for each one. Here’s the final quote:

Anything can become a spiritual practice once you are willing to approach it that way-once you let it bring you to your knees and show you what is real, including who you really are, who other people are, and how near God can be when you have lost your way.

Chapter 5, The Practice of Getting Lost

Chapter 5 is a ride. Taylor takes something bane like getting lost to illustrate her point that anything can become a spiritual practice.

I can’t say I get lost on purpose, but I understand her point. Getting lost viewed through the lens of “maybe there’s a reason” certainly requires some discipline and regulation. What I have done on purpose is take new streets, driving or running, just to see what’s on them. This past Saturday, in fact.

I had an event to attend downtown Sarasota Friday night. Instead of driving home to West Bradenton afterwards, I booked an Airbnb just south of downtown. Main reason: to run the Ringling Bridge the next morning. It had been too long, so I felt like it was worth it. Of the overall 7.28 miles of the run, besides the bridge, I had never ran any of those streets. I purposefully returned back a different way than I had approached the bridge. The two best sections of the run was by the Bay on Mound then through and around Payne Park.

I agree with Taylor. Growth happens when you lean in to purposefully embrace the unfamiliar. And whether that unfamiliar was planned or not, your peace and trust are revealed. Who couldn’t benefit from that?

Now I’m remembering running on some very unknown streets in 2012. That summer I took my first international trip, to Belarus of all places. The purpose of that trip wasn’t to run or pleasure traveling, but to teach ESL classes through a supporting church. Many disciplines were bundled together on that trip; they still bring me to my knees, show me what is real, who I am, and who other people are. I may never forget running in that country. It was spiritual.

What practice of yours, if looked at differently, could become spiritual? Grilling? Baking? Fishing? Painting? Ask God to show you the way. May you find a new altar in your world.

An Altar in the World, Meditation #5

On recommendation, I recently read An Altar in the World by Barbara Brown Taylor. It’s subtitled A Geography of Faith. In the spirit of that lane, rather than offer a review I’ve selected my top highlights and will offer a meditation post for each one. Here’s quote #5:

To become fully human means growing gentler toward human weakness. It means practicing forgiveness of my and everyone else’s hourly failures to live up to divine standards.

Chapter 7, The Practice of Living with Purpose

What Taylor is describing in the paragraph containing this quote is her view of loving God and neighbor as oneself. She calls that the vocation of becoming fully human. These thoughts are two of the six she offers to explain what she means. They are all examples of living with purpose.

What if we all were working toward growing more gentle?

What if we all were empathetic toward other’s weaknesses?

What if we all were forgiving toward failures, including our own?

What if we all were after the glory of God?

What if we all were becoming fully human?

Photo by freestocks on Unsplash

An Altar in the World, Meditation #4

On recommendation, I recently read An Altar in the World by Barbara Brown Taylor. It’s subtitled A Geography of Faith. In the spirit of that lane, rather than offer a review I’ve selected my top highlights and will offer a meditation post for each one. Here’s quote #4:

Our bodies remain God’s best way of getting to us.

Chapter 3, The Practice of Wearing Skin

One might argue there are other ways just as impactful that God gets to us, but Taylor makes an interesting point. Whether through our body loathing, our seasons of suffering, or our comparing our bodies to our neighbor’s, we certainly have many opportunities for more of God.

I believe a good chunk of these opportunities revolve around the work of acceptance. Accepting the diagnosis, the loss, the genes, the future produces humility, alignment, focus, and peace that may only come through the avenue of our bodies.

I’ve had few physical challenges in my 55 years of life. The main one I’ve dealt with in recent years is a Schatzki’s Ring. If that’s a new term to you, you’re not alone. Bottom line: I have to be careful and alert to food getting stuck in my esophagus.

It’s more annoying than anything, but it has caused me to attune to myself and others in ways I hadn’t before. It all started in a Miami restaurant in 2014 when I had no idea what was going all. All I knew was my chest was tightening, and everything I had eaten wasn’t going to stay in my body. Since then this has happened in friend’s homes, multiple restaurants, even on stage this past Sunday. That was weird. Try singing with a wedged orange slice on the verge of shooting out of your mouth-a whole new method of God getting your attention.

I’ve learned many lessons from these situations. I believe the key one is the value of lowering our guards. Here are three lived examples of what I mean:

  • Lower your guard rather than hiding behind any sense of embarrassment or shame when you have to excuse yourself from the table.
  • Lower your guard rather than exploding in anger or pride when you have to seek help for something you can’t explain or fix.
  • Lower your guard rather than ignoring the obvious and making matters worse for you and those in your company.

How does that connect to God getting to me through my body, in this case a Schatzki Ring?

  • My guard hinders his releasing my shame.
  • My guard halts his providing my desperately needed healing.
  • My guard eliminates his growing and maturing me and therefore my community.

May we pray, “God, even in my body, get to me however you want. I’m all yours.”

An Altar in the World, Meditation #3

On recommendation, I recently read An Altar in the World by Barbara Brown Taylor. It’s subtitled A Geography of Faith. In the spirit of that lane, rather than offer a review I’ve selected my top highlights and will offer a meditation post for each one. Here’s quote #3:

How often we are embarrassed to do and say the things that really affect us.

Chapter 12, The Practice of Pronouncing Blessings

This one is a pickle. It is a What If-er’s nightmare. “If I say how I’m really feeling, how will they respond?” “If I make this decision, will my friends understand?” On and on.

Taylor advocates for two things in this chapter: 1) embrace blessing all things and 2) speak from your heart.

The first time I gave an unexpected, heartfelt blessing was in a letter to my college best friend and his fiancee. I was surprised how much it touched them. From that I learned we don’t practice blessing enough. It’s a foreign language.

To improve our skills, as simple as it sounds, it all begins with the word “may”. “May” frames the future, a future where potential is realized and hopes are fulfilled. When introducing a spiritual blessing, “may” invites the work and hand of God with reverence and promise. No matter the person, no matter the present, everyone could stand to hear a blessing, a word to affect today and tomorrow.

To the newborn, speak a blessing.

To the estranged, speak a blessing.

To the groundbreakers, speak a blessing.

To the paralyzed, speak a blessing.

To the faithful, speak a blessing.

To the wanderer, speak a blessing.

To the one in the mirror, speak a blessing.

To the One above all others, speak a blessing.

Photo by Glen Carrie on Unsplash

An Altar in the World, Meditation #2

On recommendation, I recently read An Altar in the World by Barbara Brown Taylor. It’s subtitled A Geography of Faith. In the spirit of that lane, rather than offer a review I’ve selected my top highlights and will offer a meditation post for each one. Here’s quote #2:

Human beings may separate things into as many piles as we wish-separating spirit from flesh, sacred from secular, church from world. But we should not be surprised when God does not recognize the distinctions we make between the two.

Chapter 1, The Practice of Waking Up to God

Taylor’s quote comes at the end of the chapter where she has offered the teaching that God can show up in any space or through any means he chooses. In that moment, we have the opportunity to erect an altar-take note and mark that spot where God revealed himself. Her biblical example is Jacob’s reaction to the ladder dream. Because he knew he had encountered God, he paused and created a marker of significance.

Makes me think of Paul David Tripp’s teaching about two-drawer living. God doesn’t instruct us to live two separate lives-one for him and one for ourselves. Everything belongs in one drawer. The challenge is to view more and more of life as an encounter with him, a journey with him, an alertness that he’s always here.

Case in point: Sunday after church I had three hours to kill before attending an event in another town. I decided to google a new place to eat, try something different. I ended up at Blu’ Island Bistro. When I pulled in the parking lot, I wasn’t quite sure. But I said to myself, “Trust the reviews.”

It’s not a big place, but it has charm. I immediately felt it when I walked through the door. And here’s the thing: IT NEVER STOPPED.

Besides the quick seating, the perfect plate portion, the excellent tacos, and almost just right sweet tea, no one, and I mean no one, lacked joy. Not a customer. Not an employee. Everyone seemed happy to be there. I literally said to myself, “I should tell my pastor that I found the restaurant that feels like church.”

I stopped counting how many servers checked on me. I believe it was six. That’s a little crazy. And I don’t mean annoying crazy. I mean “thank you for your care” crazy.

I didn’t just encounter God between 10:00 and 11:00AM Sunday morning. I encountered him at the restaurant, then at the beach, then at the ice cream shop, and then at the event. How? I was looking for him. And the altar I erected? I gave the restaurant a Google review, I’m posting this blog, and I thanked God for putting everything in one pile.

Photo by Jack B on Unsplash

An Altar in the World, Meditation #1

On recommendation, I recently read An Altar in the World by Barbara Brown Taylor. It’s subtitled A Geography of Faith. In the spirit of that lane, rather than offer a review I’ve selected my top highlights and will offer a meditation post for each one. Here’s quote #1:

Faith sometimes looks like a blunt refusal to stop speaking into the divine silence.

Chapter 10, The Practice of Feeling Pain

In the face of betrayal, keep speaking.

In the face of confusion, keep speaking.

In the face of loss, keep speaking.

When fear says, “No one cares,” refuse to listen.

When doubt says, “No one’s listening,” refuse to isolate.

When impatience says, “No one’s responding,” refuse to self-muzzle.

There is a time to be blunt.

There is a time to be persistent.

There is a time to be verbose.

If God is silent, might it be because he wants to keep hearing from you?

If God is silent, might it be because he’s respecting your need to process?

If God is silent, might it be because he’s taking a moment to appreciate your faith?

Photo by Harli Marten on Unsplash