These may be reminders. They may be challengers. They are descriptors John Sowers wrote to his daughters about what it means to be a friend.
(Chapter 21, Say All the Unspoken Things)
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Did something a few weeks ago that I haven’t done in a while. Went to an actual bookstore. It was for work, but how does a reader go in a bookstore and not make a personal purchase?
So on my running trip two weeks ago, one of the books made the trip. I’m 15 chapters in.
Chapter 14 is entitled “Whispers.” This paragraph starter got my attention:
There is a verse in Psalms that says, “God whispers to those who trust him.”
Made me want to look it up. Couldn’t find it. Then I checked the chapter notes.
Psalm 25:14, author’s paraphrase
I respect that.
Next I opened my Bible app to compare various translations of this verse. Here are three that come close to Sowers’ paraphrase:
Chapter 14 is in Part 4 of the book entitled “Becoming.” These verses’ images encourage me to be becoming.
In a recent interview, a pastoral candidate described what he was hoping for as “a tall order.” I replied, “I’m pretty sure God can handle tall orders.” Not that He’s obligated to any human’s orders, but He’s more than capable to fill them.
You got a current tall order?
Whatever it is, consider these talking points in your prayers the rest of this week:
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Before the rainbow only one family received God’s grace.
Before the rainbow the earth was full of corruption.
Before the rainbow a 100-year project had to be completed.
Before the rainbow every God-given detail had to be followed.
Before the rainbow goodbyes were said to everything.
Before the rainbow a year-long boat ride.
Before the rainbow an altar produced a new covenant.
The rainbow reminds us of a promise. I appreciate the lessons to be learned from remembering what came before the rainbow.
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Left this morning for my first 2024 race trip. Checking off three states between Friday and Monday.
I pretty exclusively fly Southwest. And I want to give a shoutout to this guy.
From what I observed, a lunch conversation with him would be fun. He’s got a story or two, no doubt.
But my shoutout is due to his leading a flight in a way I’ve never witnessed. Here are six ways he did it.
It wasn’t appropriate as we deplaned, but I wanted to tell him employees like him give Southwest a good name. More importantly, for all the people he’d say he represents, he gives all of them a good name.
Well done, Sir!
Following my last post, everyone lives in a perpetual state of not knowing what they don’t know. Inside of that bubble comes moments when we learn something we’d rather not know. Is it just me, or do those things make you wish you could unlearn them? And, doesn’t it seem like it’s happening more and more, almost daily?
Seven chapters later in Joshua, I’m guessing Caleb could relate with these two questions. His conversation with Joshua was 45 years after learning something very costly. It cost many men he knew their lives. Caleb was promised he wasn’t included in that result, yet he lived with knowing so much that I imagine he struggled knowing.
Knowledge brings choices. I prefer that thought over the thought that knowledge is power. Both can be true; but looking through Caleb’s 45-year hindsight, I lean toward his model of making righteous choices versus abusing bestowed power with his knowledge.
CHOICE #1: Knowledge doesn’t make you king.
Caleb may have been tempted to envy Joshua or to disrespect his predecessor, Moses. He didn’t, I believe, because he made the choice not to pursue a physical position of authority just like he didn’t assume one in his spiritual life. Caleb was not the king of his life. His choice led him down a long, hard, unchosen path resulting in generational blessings no other man with his knowledge received.
CHOICE #2: Knowledge doesn’t dictate direction.
Realistically, Caleb could have taking a direction in an attempt to act on what he knew. Yet, year after year after year, he chose to submit to a direction that must have seemed avoidable and sorrowful. What kept that choice in tact was a promise, a promise that sustained and grew his strength around each turn to his final destination.
CHOICE #3: Knowledge does offer servanthood.
Another guess I have about Caleb is that he viewed life as a gift. Life didn’t owe him. It didn’t owe him power or guarantee him ease. This view of life molded him into a servant. He allowed it. He welcomed it. He embraced it. That’s why 45 years later he reaped a servant’s reward.
When we know what we don’t want to know, may be all be drawn to Caleb’s choices. For the long haul. For everyone’s future. For the promised land. For the Promise Keeper.
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One of the more liberating understandings I came to appreciate years ago was that there are times I don’t know what I don’t know. Well, maybe at first it wasn’t liberating. Probably more frustrating…until grace stepped in.
This came to mind recently when I read Joshua 7. Talk about a frustrated leader. Joshua was deep in it. Here’s how he voiced it to God:
7 Then Joshua said, “Oh no, Lord God! Why did you ever bring this people across the Jordan? Was it to hand us over to the power of the Amorites, to destroy us? If only we had been prepared to live on the other side of the Jordan! 8 Please forgive me, Lord. What can I say now that Israel has retreated before its enemies? 9 The Canaanites and the whole population of the land will hear of it. They will surround us and make our name disappear from the earth. What will you do about your great name then?”
In this moment, Joshua had no idea what Achan had done. In all reality, it’s possible he didn’t even know Achan. Think about it. A man he may not have known was the reason behind his questioning, pleading, and speculating. Joshua didn’t know what he didn’t know.
These type of scenarios can be an opportunity to hit pause. Before finger pointing at God or spraying the mirror with the “why’s, what are you doing’s, or what will happen’s,” some additional questions are available that usher in curiosity and temper impatience.
Those kind of questions change prayers, create stillness, and offer a seat beside restorative waters. When and if I need to know what I don’t know, it will come. This is a moment for grace…and there’s plenty available.
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The last two books I’ve read have been authored by Colby Martin, a progressive pastor in California. I’m not going to do a review or respond to his writings except for one observation.
I finished The Shift today. Some who will follow that link may wonder, “Why would you read that book, John?” Here’s a quote giving a hint:
Listening helps us understand, understanding leads to compassion, and compassion opens the way for love. Suddenly, we see others not as our enemies, not as people out to get us, but as people for whom we do not desire suffering. We now feel a longing for their well-being in the same way we hope for our own. We may still not like what they’re saying, and it may still be appropriate to push back, but now you’re engaging in the conversation from a place of love, and that changes everything.
-Chapter “When Progressives Attack”
In this next-to-last chapter, Martin addresses the issue of when progressive Christians attack each other. I already respected him before this chapter; this chapter elevated my respect. Martin isn’t trying to create a war. In fact, he’s challenging those within his ranks to move away from that posture.
I was reminded of reading Senator Ben Sasse’s book Them. Sasse drove home the point, five years ago now, that the challenge in America is we take sides and make enemies of those on the other side.
I’m thankful for leaders who are countercultural in modeling and challenging us to listen to help us understand to grow our compassion to open ourselves in the ways of love.
I’ve found a podcast that’s growing on me. It’s called Everything Happens with Kate Bowler. Check out the link to see what it’s about.
One episode prompted me to think about some things I’ve given up. When we think about giving up, some things we give up are good loses; other things we choose to give up may cause people to question why. The latter is where my mind went. Not that I’m paralyzed by what people think, but I revisited two things I gave up that have often caused people to cock their head with a look of, “I’m not sure that makes sense.”
In 2014, I gave up tennis. Almost to the day ten years ago, I had my second neck surgery giving me three infusions most likely due to a car accident that happened around twenty years ago. What does that have to do with tennis? Both instances when the nerve pain surfaced was either the next day after playing tennis or during a season where I was playing quite a bit of tennis. It can’t be confirmed, but it makes sense to me that the motion of serving and other movements during a tennis match didn’t go well with the disc issues that surfaced. Thus, I gave up tennis. Exercise does include some pain, but being healthy doesn’t have to include self-harm.
In 2001, I gave up being a worship leader as an occupation. It became clear to me after 12 years of music being the basis of my work life that it wasn’t fulfilling. There was something else that was better. I didn’t have the answer, but step one was to give up doing something just because I can. A bigger purpose rose by choosing better over good.
In this vein, my pastor spoke this morning about giving up things in order to live in freedom rather than anxiety. When we are honest with ourselves, we often are quite aware of what’s binding us that we aren’t willing to give up. If you find yourself in this position, let me encourage you with this blessing from Kate Bowler. Each episode I’ve listened to, a blessing is how it ends. In the episode that prompted this post, she ended it with the following words. May they speak life into your soul that it’s okay to give up.
Blessed are you who have reached a new age, even if it doesn’t seem to fit. It may feel too big, too reductive, too limiting. It may be marked by a life you barely recognize. The kids who have all moved out or settled somewhere far away, or they’ve never left. And you’re wondering if you’ll ever get that home office. The work that no longer sets the daily hum. The life partner who is gone. And friends you’ve outlived. The body, which doesn’t allow for the hobbies you loved anymore. The monthly check that doesn’t provide the flexibility you’d hoped for. Wasn’t I young just a second ago? Will I ever recognize the person staring back in the mirror? What’s left to do that really counts? How do I know if I am or ever was enough? God gave us eyes to notice the ways life can still be beautiful and rich and full in the midst of so much that has been lost. Remind us that you are not done with us yet. For the God who spoke us into being calls us even now. Not to an ideal or a role, but to a moment. This one. In a world that equates age with liability, it’s time for a reminder that you are a gift. You give advice. You hold on to family recipes. You remember that thing that happened and honestly, we shouldn’t have forgotten. You think our kids are beautiful, and our bad partners should be soundly dumped. You kept the photo album. You hold our stories. Thank you. Even when the world isn’t paying attention. May you get a glimmer of a reminder that these little things add up to something that is and always will be beautiful.
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I woke up this morning smiling. I got to spend 3 hours with a 21st century friend last night. Let me explain.
We met in 2016 by way of the land of phone conference calls. He lives in Ohio; I live in Florida. We took some coaching classes together and have pursued friendship since. What other century has afforded humans such interaction? Thus, a 21st century friend. Which leads me to think about the guy I wrote about in my last blog post.
We met by Zoom. He lives in Wisconsin. Odds are you’ve never heard of what he does. He is a Virtual Reality pastor for his church. No kidding. I kept saying to him, “This isn’t why we’re talking, but I have so many questions.” No other century has imagined humans going to church virtually. Which leads me to think about conversations I had earlier this week with a friend in Jordan.
We met…wait for it…in person. Six years ago I traveled to Jordan twice with a few folks from our church to provide services for Iranian and Syrian refugees. That’s where I met Homero, who by the way is Brazilian. On that trip I was introduced to What’sApp. I had no choice in order to connect with our airport shuttle driver; that was her means of communicating. So since then, Homero and I occasionally connect from wherever he is in the world through means of an app. What other century has allowed instantaneous conversation with anyone anywhere in the world? Which brings me back to last night with my Ohio friend.
We were on a walk towards ice cream after eating dinner on St. Armands Circle. We were passing a store, guessing by the window display, was some kind of gift shop. But a sign by the door included ice cream and baklava. I said, “Hey, I have to go in here. I’ve never seen this place.” I ended up walking out with more Turkish baked goods than one human should purchase. More about that later.
Come to find out, the sales clerk encouraging my baked goods splurge just arrived in the U.S. three months ago from Turkey. “I came to America to get my PhD in climate change and to reap the benefits of what’s possible here so I can return home to help my country.” He shared his story in pretty good English. Imagine our shock when he said he didn’t speak English when he left Turkey. To explain his amazing 3-month-English-speaking capacity, he said, “I watch YouTube.”
Thinking about all four of these connections makes me smile. Here’s to the 21st century, and all the friends it affords!
John Gregory 