Whose Voice Matters Most

It’s Labor Day weekend here in the U.S. May mean you have more time to think. Here’s a reminder for you: Who God Says You are Matters Most.

In my thinking time already, I reviewed three conversations this week where descriptions were painted about someone. All were offered in constructive ways. Regardless of the intention or the relationship, human evaluations are limited. That’s not the case with God. Here are three reasons why:

Time known…God’s known you from conception…No one’s known you longer. Someone we knew in college may not recognize us today. It’s like that statement some middle-age adults make to a current friend: “If we’d known each other in college, we probably wouldn’t have been friends.” God’s been around for all the years. That history gives him the most information to back up what he says about you.

Depth known…God’s known you from formation…No one’s known you as deeply. The revelations we get from personality assessments make us say, “How did they know that? That’s so accurate.” It was no surprise to God. He wired you. He’s also been part of the ins and outs of life that have continued to form you, to mature you, to change you to the core. He knows you the most deeply, so his words about you carry the most weight.

Relationally known…God knows you by connection…No one’s more connected. Some people wear many hats in our relationship with them (family, boss, friend, neighbor, coworker, etc.). Naturally, we want to lean in to what they say. We long to be known by them. But there are many hats that only God can wear. When we are aware of them all, respect them, honor them, give thanks for them, the magnitude of what he says about us expands. Often, we forget just how much we most want to be known by him, but he cannot know us any more.

During this weekend, find some time to give him space to speak. Tune in to his voice. It matters most.

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10 Endurance Tests

Currently I’m going through a YouVersion reading plan for James 1. The first four days of ten have pretty much focused on this verse:

For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.

James 1:3 NLT

Reading this the other day, it struck me to get specific. For instance, when faith in one area of life is tested it has a chance to grow. To flesh that out, here are ten additions where growth can be experienced by faith testing.

When your faith in your spouse is tested, your endurance as a vow-keeping partner has a chance to grow.

When your faith in your boss is tested, your endurance as a loyal employee has a chance to grow.

When your faith in your children is tested, your endurance as a loving parent has a chance to grow.

When your faith in your parents is tested, your endurance as an honoring child has a chance to grow.

When your faith in your government is tested, your endurance as a contributing citizen has a chance to grow.

When your faith in your company is tested, your endurance as a committed team player has a chance to grow.

When your faith in your church is tested, your endurance as a kingdom-minded citizen has a chance to grow.

When your faith in your investments is tested, your endurance as a focused treasurer has a chance to grow.

When your faith in your friend is tested, your endurance as a reliable presence has a chance to grow.

When your faith in your God is tested, your endurance as an image bearer has a chance to grow.

Photo by Hu Chen on Unsplash

Sacred Space

What is it about 3AM? God seems to enjoy waking me up from some whopper of a dream around this time, and off my mind goes. And my first thought is, “You know I’m trying to sleep here, right?”

This morning’s dream was fuzzy, but not. The main storyline was that a man had been told he had 24 hours to live. He wasn’t lying in a hospital bed. He hadn’t been in a tragic accident. Somehow he knew this was true, and he was working through letting everyone know.

He was sitting on a chair in the center of a room. People were coming and going from the room. It had the feeling of a wake, but the person wasn’t in a coffin. He was alive, still available for visitors to say, show, do whatever they wanted in the time they had.

And that’s the observation I had just made when I woke up. No one was rushed. Time seemed to not matter while it also ticked away. As he continued to contact people to share his news, people arrived to visit and say goodbye. But no one was panicked or hurried. The mood in the room was peaceful, almost sacred.

There could be many takeaways from this scene. The one that stood out to me at 3AM was the preciousness of space. It’s a gift when we receive it. It’s a gift when others protect it for us. It’s a gift that God offers to us probably more often than we think. It’s certainly a gift when we live in peace, without panic or hurry.

May we honor our spaces. May we recognize the sacred and sit in it as long as possible.

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“No Thanks, Well-Meaner”

This afternoon I had one of those “Huh…I never thought of it that way” moments.

I was describing to someone why it’s never worked out for me to pursue a particular job. Over the years many folks have encouraged me to pursue it, and I even came relatively close to it once. As I was telling this story, these words came out of my mouth: “It just never felt right. You know, sorta like trying on Saul’s armor.”

I stopped talking for a second to let that sink in, more for me than the guy listening. In my head I said, “That’s a perfect analogy. Can’t believe I’ve not made that connection before.”

If you don’t know that reference by the way, or need a refresh, check out 1 Samuel 17. It’s the David & Goliath narrative. Well-meaning Saul outfits shepherd boy David in his own armor. No go. David knew well enough that it wasn’t going to work. He took it all off, and we know how the story ends.

Suppose David ignored “well enough.” Suppose he caved because that’s King Saul. How do you question the king, that you just met? “Who do you think you are?” Suppose he allowed the natural to get in the way of the supernatural. We’d have a whole different story end.

Truth is, many relationships start by well-meaners that knew well enough. Many jobs begin that were never the right fit. Hindsight tells us that, but imagine what’s possible when courage undergirds one’s mindset and convictions so that well enough writes the story.

When we are in tune with God and with our own mind and body, we know well enough. And it’s really just a split second between anyone’s well meaning and our well enough that determines how the story ends.

In preparation for that split second, what if we chose this conviction? “I’m not here in the king’s name. I’m not even here in my name. I’m here in the name of the same God as David’s. Well-meaners, thanks, but no. In this moment, in this battle, in this decision, God’s well enough fits just fine.”

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The Rich Ones

Letting go is a skill. It could also be called a discipline. It also seems the more one practices it the richer they become.

Letting go of regret increases grace.

Letting go of anger increases peace.

Letting go of pride increases humility.

Letting go of worry increases trust.

Letting go of what could have been improves vision.

Letting go of unmet expectations increases mercy.

Letting go of control increases faith.

Letting go of disappointment increases joy.

Those who know how to let go or at least are growing in this skill and discipline are growing in their wealth.

They are the rich ones.

Photo by Максим Степаненко on Unsplash

Small Christian Living

Dear, dear Corinthians, I can’t tell you how much I long for you to enter this wide-open, spacious life. We didn’t fence you in. The smallness you feel comes from within you. Your lives aren’t small, but you’re living them in a small way. I’m speaking as plainly as I can and with great affection. Open up your lives. Live openly and expansively!

2 Corinthians 6:11-13 MSG

Earlier this week the explanation for division amongst Christians that resonated with me was how small we’ve made God…without seeing it. The next morning these three verses were part of my daily devotional reading. Sync.

When believers sing “How Great is Our God” but refuse to drive onto the campus of another church whose theology doesn’t perfectly align with theirs, Paul says, “You fenced yourself in…and God.”

None of us have all the answers. And the second we believe we do, God no longer sits on His throne. He’s lost any signs of “omni” because we’ve lowered him to our image, the reverse of our beginning.

Forgive us.

Forgive us for our reductive pride.

Forgive us for yielding to the temptation to make you in our image.

Forgive us for we know not what we do.

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9 Ways to Better Goodbyes

Today included a goodbye. And I can honestly say it wasn’t sad.

Not because neither of us care. Quite the opposite. The care is selfless.

I don’t exactly know how long we’ve known each other. But what I do know is that from the very beginning we cared as much for the other as we did ourselves. That’s a rare form of rich. Golden.

Upon reflection, here are a few ways to better goodbyes. From the beginning and throughout your journey…

  • Listen deeply
  • Be available
  • Provide safety
  • Say it
  • Name it
  • Encourage
  • Reveal unseen good
  • Affirm faithful decisions
  • Celebrate what’s possible

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You’ve Got Ink

A couple of weeks ago the devotional read during our staff meeting asked an interesting question: How do you view a pen that has ran out of ink?

The obvious answer is it’s no longer useful. File 13. A pen without ink is useless, right?

True. But another view gives us a more life-giving response. In an inanimate way, what if we viewed that pen as having given all it had? Yes, it ran out. But what if instead of only discarding it since it no longer can give what it once did we acknowledged all that it did faithfully give.

An alternate perspective from a simple life routine. Appreciate the pen for what it did instead of what it no longer can.

Pretty sure I’ve blogged about this before, but it brings to mind our need to maintain balance between being filled and pouring out. Unlike the pen, we don’t want to completely deplete ourselves. To serve community well requires all of us to pour out, which requires us to steward how we are being filled. It is a constant process. With great attention, it is a thing of beauty.

So let’s check ourselves. Right now as you read this, how much “ink” do you have left? Where/how/when do you best get refilled? Which parts of that does your calendar contain between now and Monday?

One more thing. Most likely you’ve been doing quite a bit of pouring out this month-a lot of ink has been flowing. Take a moment to remember where it flowed, what that did for you/others/God, and the story that ink wrote because you allowed it to flow.

TAKEAWAY: You’ve got ink to steward. Be Filled & Pour.

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Falling Cherry Blossoms

Last March I posted a blog referencing Makoto Fujimura. He’s become a staple for me to follow-podcast episodes, videos, books, etc. A few months ago I started reading his book Silence and Beauty, where he goes in depth to analyze the book I mentioned in the previous blog post and its place in Japanese art and history. I finished reading it on a plane ride Saturday.

I’m glad I took my time reading this book. The slower read allowed for his words and thoughts to breathe and to sink. What I enjoyed most about this form of Fujimura’s art was how he chose to build toward the ending. His final chapter, Mission Beyond the Waves, overflowed with images and challenges that perfectly summarized his message of silence and beauty.

The image that most caught my attention was his imagery and symbolism of falling cherry blossoms. “In Japan of old, cherry blossoms are considered most beautiful when they are falling.” He penned that following this quote by former archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams:

Our voyages are all about loss and death. At the moment of our death, which could be any moment, how is my mortality to be made fruitful in the life of another? How may my loss and my suffering become a Word to others? The ultimate question that any of us, or any art, can ask is this: “How may I die generously?”

Meditation on Death

If indeed cherry blossoms are most beautiful when they fall, they are most beautiful when they are broken and completely sacrificed. Fujimura’s challenge is for us all to be generous. Generosity in our faith and in our acts “can be a sacramental act to bridge the divide and brokenness created in society.”

What generous act are you prompted to complete? How can your faith assist you? What beauty is coming when you offer your creations?

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Acting Despite the Stone

You know that moment when you read something for the umpteenth time and it feels like the first? That happened to me reading the first three verses of Mark 16. Here they are:

When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus’ body. Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to the tomb and they asked each other, “Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?”

Even though I’d read this multiple times, something jumped out at me clear as day. That something was the order of events.

It wasn’t the first thing on these three ladies’ minds to ask themselves about the stone in the way. No, they bought the spices, set their alarms (although I have a sense they didn’t really need to), and were already headed to the tomb to tend to Jesus’ body before they really pondered exactly how they were going to get in.

I found that very telling. Many times we let the impossible keep us from preparing for it. These ladies didn’t worry about that. Why?

I believe it was because they were so focused on serving Jesus. Literally. The stone in the way didn’t deter them from buying the spices. They could have said, “Uh, what’s the point of spending money on something that I might not be able to use. I’ll just pray about it and hope that stone gets out of the way somehow.”

Instead they bought them, got up early, and headed for the tomb. It seems they had so much faith they were going to get to tend to Jesus that their attitude was, “Somehow, we don’t know how, but somehow that stone will not keep us from getting to him.”

I have a sneaky feeling their question wasn’t one of doubt but one of wonderment. Just how was God going to help them.

It seems that God often does his best work when we let him deal with the impossible while we deal with the possible. They did everything they could to be ready to serve. What did God do? He made sure the obstacle in their way was removed.

The Lesson: Act despite the stone. Avoid letting the impossible paralyze you from living an active life of faith. These ladies would have seriously kicked themselves had they let the question come first.

What they would have missed. I’m thankful for their example of not letting the question of the impossible stifle their actions of faith.

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