Attached to God (book review)

Last Fall I read Krispin Mayfield’s Attached to God.

I wrote one post about a lament exercise he outlined, but I never offered my thoughts about the whole book once I finished. Today, I finished rereading it. Time to share.

I’m a little obsessed.

My hunch is that anyone wishing to understand or improve their relationships with humans and with God would also believe Mayfield delivers on the subtitle’s promise of a practical guide. His effort to breakdown attachment science then connect it to one’s relational experience with God produces clarity and hope for any breakdown to be restored.

Of all my highlights, here are three to whet your appetite.

Distance happens in all relationships. (Chapter 1, “The Still Face of God”)

A friend of mine recently made a self awareness by saying, “I guess I live in a fantasy world.” I’d say that’s true for many professing Christians in regards to their beliefs about how close they are expected to feel to God at all times. Mayfield argues human relationship with God is like our other relationships-distance happens.

I was in my 30s before I fully accepting this truth. Many close friends moved and distance happened. It’s normal. That doesn’t provide comfort or easy acceptance, just normalcy. Learning how to respond to distance in a secure way is worth the effort, for you and for the relationship.

Information doesn’t change your beliefs, experience does. (Chapter 4, “Shutdown Spirituality”)

When religious folks get their head around this one, attachment shifts. And it’s a struggle. Why? We are programmed that attending church or a study group is the sole means of establishing beliefs. Any transparent pastor or counselor would most likely agree with Mayfield. They’ve seen how experiences affirm or alter beliefs, in their own lives and in those they serve.

From my experience, this has definitely played out the last 15 years for me. Traveling to other countries, visiting other denominational churches, and dialoguing with Christians on the other side of all kinds of aisles has made me check my beliefs. And yes, some have changed.

In any authentic relationship, there’s room for real talk. (Chapter 10, “The Risk of Trust”)

When people describe what the younger generations are looking for in their attachment to religion and God, the word authentic comes up regularly. I believe age doesn’t matter; we all hunger for it. This 57-year-old does.

RECOMMENDATION: For all your attachment seasons, secure or insecure in any relationships including God, this book deserves space in your library.

The New Home (Green Light) Odyssey: The Right Agent

I closed on a new home April 28th and within 24 hours was completely moved in. That’s the short version. The long version includes many right decisions that I eventually started calling “going through the green lights” that I continued to experience.

The decision to move began in December simply by responding to a “for rent” sign. I wasn’t really sure about renting, but it was almost too good to be true. A .2 mile trip to work. After checking it out, the green light read “Move, but buy instead of rent.” The odyssey began.

I didn’t have a timeline other than sometime in 2025, ideally the first half. I now drove five days a week to Sarasota versus three, so the sooner the better, and before the summer heat.

I started a relationship with Zillow. I thought I knew where I’d be most comfortable in Sarasota, so I started following listings in that area. I found quickly that the possibilities widened to areas I had previously ruled out.

Zillow isn’t stupid. Floods of emails suck you in and can foster obsession. One trick that got me moving further on the journey was open house notifications. I finally broke down and went through the next green light: “It’s just an open house.  Go and see what that location and price point feels like.”

That decision to go to a March 2nd open house led to an unexpected green light: “Here’s the agent you are going to work with.”

Funny. I didn’t know I was looking for one. I wasn’t in a hurry. I thought I had plenty of time.

Don’t get me wrong. No one forced me through that green light. But it was a little too obvious. My coming to that open house and them being the agent at that showing was supposed to happen. I wasn’t forced; but when the light is green, I’ve learned to keep moving.

Fear or uncertainty can cause us to not proceed down a path that we weren’t expecting or may not think we are ready for. This part of the home buying journey reminded me of two main things about God and his children:

  • He’s always at work preparing us for what he has in store for us.
  • He knows the desires of our heart and excitedly wants to fulfill them.

If you are sitting at a green light, take heart. It’s safe to move forward.

Photo by Mark König on Unsplash

Inheritance

Came across this version of Matt Maher’s “Inheritance” yesterday. What a find!

Happy Easter!

Lyrics:

VERSE 1 Right from the very start You had me in Your heart Nothing but dust and yet You gave me life and breath Loved me before I knew For nothing that I could do You wrapped Your Word in flesh What an inheritance

CHORUS You don’t withhold a thing You were the offering I don’t deserve it It doesn’t make sense What an inheritance

VERSE 2 There on a lonely hill 10,000 debts fulfilled Heard in Your final breath Last will and testament Father, Your work is done Now let Your kingdom come Death has been laid to rest What an inheritance

POST-CHORUS 1 Oh, oh, oh What an inheritance

VERSE 3 Spirit of life and truth Filling the upper room Beating within my chest What an inheritance Counsel and closest friend What an inheritance

CHORUS 2 Freely You give to me Freely I will receive I don’t deserve it It doesn’t make sense What an inheritance

Alone Yet Connected

Finished listening to Seeing with the Eyes of the Heart today. One of the last discussion points centered on the reality we all encounter of facing aloneness.

Adyashanti stated he believed almost no one understood Jesus, making him one of the most alone figures in spiritual literature. To explain what he meant, his reply included these thoughts about aloneness.

Engaging spirituality in an authentic way will bring us to encountering our aloneness many, many, many times…Ironically the greatest feeling of belonging comes through these deep and profound encounters with our aloneness. It’s so paradoxical that our greatest sense of belonging comes by going through those doorways of aloneness…We almost always try to do end runs around aloneness, finding surrogates for the experience of aloneness rather than really meeting it…We’re all one. That’s a really great and nice thing. But we all are simultaneously very unique expressions of the one. We all have our very unique journey that is not exactly like anyone else’s…Aloneness, in the ends, leads through the door not only to connectedness but a kind of spiritual autonomy.

I relate.

There is an aloneness on the journey of making your faith yours, not anyone else’s. Think of any faith decision you’ve made to this point that was lifechanging or formative. It came down to you making that choice by yourself. Those decisions, those moments rooted you, grounded you, expanded the territory of your faith, and girded your faith in such a way that it no longer relied on another person’s faith.

Yet, because of that, you now have the strength, the maturity, or the allure to those in your faith community that draws people to inquire how you got it. And the connectedness is more about the kingdom than you. Your aloneness that you walked through, whether you wanted to or not, brightens your image of God. It’s attractive while also preparatory for your next round of aloneness.

These thoughts remind me of this quote:

“Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.”  -Frederick Buechner, Beyond Words

Beautiful and terrible await you in aloneness. Don’t be afraid.

Photo by Matt Le on Unsplash

3 Thoughts on Forgiveness

I’m in the middle of listening to Seeing With the Eyes of the Heart.

Roughly a third of the way in, Adyashanti asked to address the topic of forgiveness. His thoughts were striking.

At one level I think the greatest forgiveness is when we really see that there’s no need for forgiveness because everything is inherently, consistently forgiven. It’s human beings that decide we are sort of God’s arbitrators of who can and cannot be forgiven, and it disconnects us from the experience of the way forgiveness works in the universe.

No need for forgiveness seems utopian. Yet, his reasoning is captivating. He’s not saying there is no literal need for forgiveness. He’s suggesting we must task ourselves to learn how it works, first from God and then between humans.

Some of Jesus’ last words on the cross were “Forgive them for they know not what they do,” referring to the people who put him there. If you are on the cross and you can forgive the people who put you there, that’s a pretty big forgiveness. You’re forgiving hate, and you’re forgiving violence…there’s a great teaching in that. If he couldn’t have forgiven them, he could have never been free from them. He would have been trapped in their hate because he couldn’t forgive their hate. He would have been trapped in their violence because he couldn’t forgive their violence…Ignorance can take some pretty violent forms…Most people are pretty much doing what they can do. What they are doing is an exact reflection of the state of their consciousness.

The striking image of these thoughts is being trapped. Couple that with being trapped in hate or violence with the foundation being the other person’s ignorance, forgiveness not only seems possible but desirable.

If we have no forgiveness, our participation in the world is seared with anger and hate, even if we are working with something that is very necessary and good. This motivation seems to come from fear rather than love.

May our searing be exposed. May love overcome our fear.

Gracists

Last month I had a conversation that left me with a feeling I didn’t want and, for sure, didn’t see coming. A few weeks later while attending a community event one speaker mentioned moral injury. And that feeling suddenly had a name. Check out this video to learn more about it.

This incident led me to intentionally choose to read several YouVersion devotional plans addressing the topic of racism. One of those was based on David Anderson’s book Gracism. Day 3 of that plan was very helpful, so I want to share this segment from that devotional:

From 1 Corinthians 12, I have identified eight principles or sayings that can guide us as we develop as gracists. These sayings lead us to actions that we can engage in to build bridges across the deepest divides of color, class, and culture. As you meditate on these verses, look for each of the eight sayings listed below.

  1. I will lift you up. “Special honor” means lifting up the humble among us.
  2. I will cover you. “Special modesty” means protecting the most vulnerable among us from embarrassment.
  3. I will share with you. “No special treatment” means refusing to accept special treatment if it is at the detriment of others who need it.
  4. I will honor you. “Greater honor” means God, as a gracist, has given greater honor to the humble.
  5. I will stand with you. “No division” means when the majority helps the minority, and the stronger helps the weaker (gracism), it keeps us from division within the body (an opposite view than normal).
  6. I will consider you. “Equal concern” means having a heart as big for our neighbors as we do for ourselves.
  7. I will celebrate with you. “Rejoices with it” means when the humble, or less honorable, are helped, we are to rejoice with them.
  8. I will heal with you. “Suffers with it” means empathizing with the pain of another and walking empathetically with the injured party.

To connect with that day of the plan, follow this link: Gracism: The Art of Inclusion – Day 3 of 5

Here’s to our collective development as Gracists.

Four One Liners from The Shack

Hullabaloo is not a party I enjoy. So forgive me if I’m eight years late to The Shack conversation (referring to the movie; 18 years since the book publication).

My free evening in Las Vegas was not going to be about hullabaloo either. So I turned on the TV for the first time in four days to see what I could find to watch. Up popped The Shack. It was time.

Papa (Octavia Spencer) and Mack Phillips (Sam Worthington) in “The Shack.” (Photo Credit: Jake Giles Netter) 

As the story unfolded, I was drawn to all the one liners; so I started this draft to share the ones that got my attention the most. Here are those four.

“Don’t forget we love each other.”

Nan, the wife, said this to Mack, her husband. He was withdrawn, and she wanted to find a way to reach him. This was a good reminder for those who are tempted to isolate when dealing with pain. Remember that people love you…and that you love them.

“Love always leaves a mark.”

God said this to Mack. Mack was expressing doubt and lack of trust in God’s love due to all the pain in his life. He learned that he was judging God, blinding him from just how much God loved him and everyone in his life, even the ones who had hurt him. This line was God expressing the extent of his love for Mack.

“You have no idea how much I’m doing right now.”

Mac was trying to make a joke about what God was doing. And his judgment brought this response. What a reminder! Our finite minds find it hard to comprehend exactly what all is going on in the universe and God’s part in it. Our humility grows when we consider the magnitude of that work.

“Does what I do really matter?”

This was Mack’s question toward the end of the movie. It caught my attention because it somewhat seemed to come out of left field. Yet, anyone floundering in their pain would most likely eventually ask this question. Purpose has a way of healing wounds.

Yes, one could dislike the movie and the book for theological reasons. Being late to the party, I’m choosing to listen and grow, one line at a time.

Flying Through the Clouds

The last leg of my trip from Sarasota to Bakersfield, California, yesterday started in Phoenix. I had been watching the weather forecast for weeks, curious what to expect for the race tomorrow. So I knew it had been rainy that morning and was supposed to be clearing. When the pilot said he expected the last part of the ride to be bumpy, I nodded.

Sure enough, about 20 minutes before landing the clear skies gave way to a blanket of clouds. I decided I’d watch the decent through my window-seat view.

For quite a while we flew just above the clouds. That’s all you could see beneath the plane. I was waiting to see when the pilot decided to dive. When he did, I looked at my watch.

It was roughly six minutes later when the plane was beneath the clouds, the blanket shadowing Bakersfield.

I wondered what goes through a pilot’s mind before and during a decent into such coverage. If I could, I wanted to ask the pilot to give me one word to describe what he felt during that six minutes flying through the clouds.

Often we feel like that. Those six minutes could literally be six weeks, months, years, or decades. The possible one-word list is long:

  • Unsettled
  • Edgy
  • Heavy
  • Antsy
  • Lost
  • Tired
  • Frustrated
  • Guarded

The truth I was reminded of watching out that window is this: God doesn’t change.

During that twenty minutes while experiencing the beauty above the clouds, the uncertainty through the clouds, and the darkness under the clouds, my location and my experience didn’t impact Him. Our relationship remained the same every second.

Wherever you find yourself in relation to the clouds, hold on to this truth. The clouds were created. Their Creator is not drained or threatened by them. He remains the same above, through, and under.

Photo by Johannes Mändle on Unsplash

The Lord Is My Courage (book review)

I don’t recall what I thought I was going to get from K.J. Ramsey’s book The Lord Is My Courage. But here’s what I know I got:

  • New Language
  • Deeper Understanding
  • Fresh Appreciation

Ramsey’s approach to this subject is 1/4 part self-therapy, 1/4 part reader-therapy, 1/4 part church culture review, and 1/4 scripture exposition. That’s a lot. For her. And for the reader.

David, who wrote both Psalm 27 and Psalm 23, knew what it was like to have an enemy, knew how it felt to be afraid, and knew how much it hurt to wonder if you are heard.

Chapter 5, “He Makes Me Lie Down”

For this response, I took my time. Like a good meal, it’s better to pace yourself. The two chapters worth savoring the most were Chapters 5 and 20.

Chapter 5 includes nuggets rooted in a distinction of translation. Some scholars prefer a translation of the Greek to read “he settles me down” instead of “he makes me lie down.” Is that a big deal? To K.J., yes. “I thought God was a shepherd who made me lie down.  I needed to encounter God as a shepherd who settled me down.”

These kinds of bites are served throughout the book. The one I enjoyed the most was this one from chapter 20.

In John 16, Jesus is telling us, Peace is found only in my presence. And I will not leave you alone.

And then Jesus says to “take heart,” which can also be translated as “have courage,” telling us that our future is secure because he has already overcome the world.

Fear is just courage’s preamble. When we practice remembering that the Spirit of Christ is our companion, fear simply becomes one more prompt to pay attention to the voice and presence of Love. Fear doesn’t have to be an enemy to conquer. It can be a place to be companioned by Love.

Ramsey definitely follows the theme of the book, folded creatively in each chapter. Here are five illustrations:

  • “Courage is the practice of risking to trust that we have a Good Shepherd who is with us always-no matter what.”
  • “Courage is resisting the hurried pace of modern life and embracing the slower rhythm our bodies need to regulate and rise.”
  • “It takes courage to quit doing things for God to commune with God.”
  • “Courage is choosing to commune with someone who has already chosen to be with us.”
  • “Courage is simply the choice to be found.”

Is this book for you? If you enjoy the Psalms, yes. If you appreciate the integration of scripture and psychology, yes. If you are struggling with current or past church experiences, yes. If you like brain food, yes. If you could use a fresh look at who God is, yes. Chances are, yes.

Sealing Hope for ’25

Recently gave my Kindle away. Just lying around, it was time to give it a new home.

When I was looking through the library I had built on it before deactivating it, there was one book that I knew I’d want to find a way to keep. GOOD NEWS: It’s on Hoopla!

If you’ve been following this blog for any amount of time, this book will most likely sound familiar. Why? Because since 2016 I’ve read it every year. I just finished the ’24 reading. It may be the last time I hold to an annual commitment to read it. No doubt, I glean relevant takeaways each time I read it. And, interestingly, with each reading, I also observe personal growth based on the lens of my reading and my responses.

Paul David Tripp’s Awe is the book. This reading, chapters 7, 10, and 13 received the most highlights. Chapter 10, “Worldview,” is always a great reminder of how to look at current circumstances:

Your idea of God will never be either accurate or stable if you’ve arrived at it by trying to figure out what he is doing in the situations in your life…when you wear the glasses of Isaiah 40 you can understand yourself, others, meaning and purpose, right and wrong, identity, morality history, and the future properly.

Chapter 13, “Work,” I’ve blogged about before. What stood out today was Tripp’s many references to rest, which is my word for 2025.

Success is not about accruing power but about resting in God’s power…Awe of God teaches me that, by grace, my life of work can now be an expression of rest and not worry.

Chapter 7, “Complaint,” is consistently corrective, which oddly can be encouraging. The meat of the chapter discusses five questions that Tripp says steal or seal our hope; Tripp believes we answer these questions every day:

  • Is God good?
  • Will God do what he promised?
  • Is God in control?
  • Does God have the needed power?
  • Does God care about me?

I encourage you to sit with these questions this week. They may renew your awe for what’s happened in ’24. They may seal your hope for what’s going to happen in ’25.

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash