Favored One

This morning in my conversation with God, I was discussing the fact that Mary was the “favored one” and the picture of an employer sitting behind a desk came to mind. Before him sits 7 or 8 resumes all vying for one position where each has the same background and qualifications, which one does he choose, which one does he favor? It wasn’t that God thought Mary was perfect, head and shoulders above all the rest, He simply chose her. Then in the course of my discussion He told me something I kind of had lost sight of. “Mike, I chose you too.” “Yeah, I know” I responded rather flippantly unfortunately. “I don’t think your grasping what I’m saying Mike, I had the choice of you or to offer My Son to pay the penalty for your sin and I favored you. I chose to allow Him to be bruised ….and it made me happy. It made me happy to bruise Him Mike, because by doing that it gave Me the opportunity to spend this time and all eternity with you.” The thought of it bringing a smile to His face to see His Son pinned to a piece of wood, bloody, beaten beyond recognition just so He could have an unhindered relationship with me doesn’t make sense to me, but I’m thankful it does to Him.

Dancing One Thousand Miles

This morning while I was cooking breakfast, listening to music, and dancing like a Baptist, the Happy Song by Delirious played from the playlist I was listening to and I actually paused to really pay attention to the lyrics.

Oh I could sing unending songs
Of how you saved my soul
Well I could dance a thousand miles
Because of your great love”

Then I realized the truth in the lyrics. Oh I could sing unending songs? Yes I “could” sing, the question is not in the actually possibility, if it is plausible for me in the same way I “could” pray without ceasing but the question is “do” I sing unending songs. Is my life a song of praise, a song of joy, a song of worship, a song that brings Him glory – in everything I do? Not only that, the song says I could dance a thousand miles. Now I understand that it is hyperbole to dance 1000 miles and at times when things are “good” it seems easy to dance 1000 miles but Christ tells me to simply walk 2 miles. Is my grip on faith one that ebbs flows with the tides of blessings and trials, a grip on faith that “dances” only when there are earthly blessings? It may be my desire is to dance 1000 miles regardless of the terrain, yet I will only do that when I have completely surrendered, when I have completely denied myself of all fleshly desires. So, I must continue to climb this spiral staircase of sanctification striving to be holy as He is holy, stumbling again and again being picked up again and again and reminded of His great love.

Render unto God....

Jesus in looking at a coin answers the questions of paying taxes by saying, “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” We often view His response as direction as to what we do with earthly government. Yes this is true however that is only half of what Christ said. “Render to God the things that are God’s”. What are the things that are God’s?

How to draw me to your church?

Today I read an article “10 things to draw me to your church”. From the surface it all “sounds” good yet there is a fundamental flaw. The goal of the article it seems is to draw someone to the institution of “church” such that they become the all elusive “club member”. I have seen so much effort made by churches to “entice” the community to enter their doors with the sole purpose of gaining prospects. We have harvest parties, offer parenting, marriage, and financial seminars promoted as “we’re reaching the community” where the effort is made in the registering or signup. So much priority is made on attendance that the culture now measures spiritual maturity with attendance and evangelism is inviting individuals to a service or event instead of simply sharing the good news. This has led to the average Christian compartmentalizing their life, with “church” (which represents their personal relationship with Christ) in a box set off by itself that is only opened Sunday morning and opened Sunday night and Wednesday night for the dedicated. This lack of interest has led churches to become “relevant” to the lowest common “seeker” such that it removes Christ completely from the church because there are none that seek righteousness, no not one. “But we’re about building relationships” churches say – relationships between who, man and man or man and Christ? If the measure of our church is defined by the number of lost people that sit in a chair for the Sunday service with the hopes of connecting with them to build relationships then we can say we do pretty good. Even so if the measure of the church is defined by the fulfillment of our purpose statements, idealistically those “fully devoted followers of Christ” would be devoted at the workplace, parks, shopping centers, movie theaters, highways etc. and we wouldn’t need to “draw” anybody to church with programs or paradigms because by being the example of Christ every moment of every day, the grace we live by would draw people to Christ regardless if they “attend our church”. The church in the book of Acts, spent time devoting themselves to the apostles teachings and as a result, had favor with the community. Bottom line, it is Christ that does the drawing, we simply do the obeying.

Good News?

We often say the salvation is the “Good News”, salvation from the slavery of sin to the freedom to sin no more. Of course that doesn’t mean we don’t sin we simply have a choice to not sin anymore. Anyway, if it were such “good news”, then why do we not spread it more? When was the last time you heard someone say “did you hear the good news?” or have we become so jaded that the only thing that catches our attention is sensationalized tragedy which simply lets us know how fallen the world is? I heard a quote from 23 year old Kerry Underwood “God has blessed me so much I will be spending the rest of my life trying to figure out why”. If the Good News is such a blessing and really is “GOOD NEWS”, what holds us back from sharing it?

Important or Unimportant Tragedy?

Today I’m gonna vent a little bit and pray that I don’t sound bitter and come across as judgmental. This morning in listening for the traffic report as I sat on Bandara with the steady red glow of break lights in front of me as far as I could see, the “teaser” for a big story here in San Antonio was “A Former MacArthur football player killed”. When the story came on, the reporter focused on the former MacArthur football connection as if that made it more of a tragedy. Now I will be the first to tell you that yes it is a tragedy, but what makes any more tragic that the homeless person that was killed last week? We tend to esteem certain social/cultural statuses more than others as if by identifying with them we become more significant. It seems as if we are so focused on ourselves and setting ourselves apart in our search for meaning in this world that deep down we don’t really care about anybody else but ourselves. There are fires out of control in San Diego were thousands of homes have been destroyed, so what do we report on, not the need of the people who don’t have a friggin home to sleep in but the possibility we can have a fire here in San Antonio as if we want to have a tragedy so that we can be “front page material”!!! Christ said unto the least of these, you do unto me.

5 Smooth Stones

Yesterday in my small group community at my church we discussed having faith that Christ has equipped us to fulfill His will by looking at the account of David and Goliath in I Sam 17. One of the questions I asked the group was why did David take 5 stones when only 1 was needed? Didn’t he have faith? Didn’t he believe God could smite Goliath? Didn’t he taunt Goliath saying that God would deliver him into his hands? What makes the question even more puzzling is that when we think of David we think of him as “A man after God’s own heart”. So why 5 stones? Doesn’t that show weakness? Doesn’t that show a lack of faith? Doesn’t that show that David isn’t this “man after God’s own heart”? Then I had to ask the question, what does it mean being after God’s own heart? Does it mean faith? Does it mean service? Does it mean smiling and giving grace when that jerk jumps in front of you in the 10 items or less express lane and has 400 items? What I’ve noticed is if the person’s heart is honest with God, I mean transparently honest with Him, God is pleased. After David had eyes for Bathseba, when Thomas said he just wouldn’t believe, when Martha pointed her bony finger at Jesus and said “If you had only been here my brother wouldn’t have died”, when Peter denied Him to the servants, when the rich young ruler walked away from Him sad, Christ’s response is always of love. Compare that to Ananias and Sapphira when they, in all appearances, were being “Holy” and “giving fully of themselves” but secretly kept back some of the profits they pledged to Christ, God hit the smite button. What God wants is our honesty. When asked how ya doin’ the answer is not always good, yet God wants us to be willing to have faith in Him that He will still love us even if we are disappointed, disagree, or discouraged by what He does and wants to the point we are willing to tell Him we are ticked off, grieved, or discouraged. Look at the Psalms, didn’t David do that? Didn’t he tell God his joys, sorrows, trials and successes? Maybe the next time we pick up 5 smooth stones we will remember that and be comforted that He is still pleased.

Man's best friend

Last night I went for a run. Plugged in with my IPod, I had my attention focused on what was in front of me when all of a sudden I felt this “presence” behind me to my right. My first thought was that I was “Oh no I’m being passed” and as I’m sure you’ve experienced, you can’t look bad by being passed when you’re out for a jog. But then all of a sudden out of the corner of my eye I saw it by my waist, the big head of a monster dog. Needless to say I immediately stopped running, jumped up in the air and let out a yelp like a little school girl and stopped. It was a yellow lab and it stopped right with me then moved over to the sidewalk, looking straight ahead as if it had been trained as a seeing-eye dog. Now I am not a pet person and it’s not that I don’t like dogs because I do, I just am not ready for the responsibility of one. Well this dog simply stayed there, it didn’t try to sniff me, slobber on me, jump on me or bite me in the butt. So I began running again and it trotted along right beside me 6 inches away from my side as if it were on a leash. It was following me. So I stopped again and it stopped. I reached over and pet it on the side of the head and it didn’t flinch, pull away, or try to get a whiff of me. Now that is my kind of dog, one that will let me do anything I want with it and won’t be jumping all over me, licking every part of my exposed skin, but simply faithfully following me waiting for me when I am ready to show it affection when I want. Then it dawned on me. How much is this dog like Christ? He does not impose Himself on us, but loves us with His life. He allows us to smack Him, yell at Him, treat Him like property, and ignore Him as if He doesn’t exist. Yet He is always on the front porch waiting and wanting for us to come home so that He can express His love for us. We tend to love dogs because of their unconditional love for us. A dog will listen as we gripe and unload our burdens, not giving any solutions, not telling us that we are wrong for having that attitude, not condemning us for our response. The result, they completely take our troubles away, calming the pains in our hearts taking us to a whole new world when we reach over and scratch them behind the ear. Isn’t that what Christ wants to do for us? He tells us to cast our cares upon Him, to “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls for my yoke is easy and my burden light.” I have heard that preached so many times to the point where it is now kinda like a cliché. It is easy to say, but not necessarily easy to do, or is it? If I allow a dog to wisp away all my troubles, I can do the same with Christ. I guess that is how Paul can be in jail and still have his “best day attitude” in a worst day situation.

Hearing a lot

I just watched the movie Gettysburg and yep you guessed it, it’s about the battle of Gettysburg. The cool thing about it is that it humanizes the leaders, displays their faith, their pride, their honor, and their struggles. There is a scene between Gen. Longstreet, “Pete” and Gen. Armistead, “Lo” in Gen Longstreet’s tent. Gen. Armistead, a subordinate to a subordinate of Longstreet, is expressing his desire to see Gen Hancock who just so happens to be the opposing commander. He talks about how they were the best of friends before the war and how he didn’t really want to fight him. At one point he recalls that he told Gen Hancock that if he raised his hand against him “may God strike me down” (a quote that is historically accurate and event that happens). But what struck me was not Gen. Armistead lamenting but Gen Longstreet simply listening. Gen. Armistead does all the talking, and I mean all the talking. Old Pete simply listens, giving Lo his complete attention, and the occasional nod. The result, Armistead thanks Longstreet and is comforted that Longstreet empathizes with him. The fact that Longstreet understands is enough for Armistead. How much so is it with Christ? He completely understands our lives, our joys, our sorrows and is available all the time, anytime to listen. God has been hearing a lot from me lately, the good and the bad, my successes and my failures, my hopes and aspirations and what I believe as hindrances and as a result I have been comforted and content.

Foot in Mouth Disease

I couldn’t sleep at all last night. Kathy and I talked until about midnight then I tossed and turned until about 1:30 slept for a couple hours then tossed and turned until it was pretty much time for me to get up for work. I don’t know why, there wasn’t a full moon, I hadn’t had an espresso before I went to bed, nor did I take any Sudafed, I just couldn’t sleep. So my day didn’t start out very well, but that wasn’t the worst part of the start of my day. Now my pride needed some stroking because although I didn’t sleep I deserve to have a good night sleep (yeah right) and in the process of trying to drum up the sympathy from Kathy I said, “I stayed awake for while after you stopped talking” and as soon as I said it I wanted it back. Whatever happened to “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs”? Words, unlike a cup of coffee can’t be taken back. What I was thinking in my head was that Kathy was so tired last night that she fell asleep in the middle of a thought and so she just “stopped talking”. But she can’t read my mind and had no idea what I was really saying she just knows what I said that I didn’t value her enough to want to listen to her and it was a dagger into her spirit. Now I immediately apologized and while that may remove the dagger, it doesn’t heal the wound. The dagger may be removed but the result, the consequence of it is still there, the hurt, the shame are still there. Being burdened by the weight of my sin, knowing that I hurt her, made my day start worse than not sleeping well, not having any coffee, or the worse kind of bad traffic, yet Kathy is the best thing that God could have ever given me. Just before I walked out the door, I gave her a kiss, and she held on to me and hugged me in such an intimate, caring, compassionate, grace filled, forgiving embrace that my burden melted away and my love for her grew even more. Now I don’t know if the wound is healed, only time will tell. I just know that Christ’s grace overflows from my wife and I desperately don’t want to wound her again.

Quick Fix

Last night we received some bad news; my father-in-law needs to have surgery again. He had surgery at the beginning of February and it has not healed and the mesh they used to seal his wound is infected so they need to replace it. The surgery is not that complicated but his health is. He has a tendency to get blood clots after he has surgery which can be very deadly. He has survived 2, which is a miracle and we don’t want to test it again. Kathy called me at work and I came directly home. I could have told her to “trust the Lord”, “have faith”, “God is the Great Physician”, or “God has a purpose” but that is not what was needed. She needed my shoulder; she needed my ear; she needed my arms to hold her. It is always easy to offer up a cliché and brush off a problem as fixed and in our fast paced society, a quick fix, a band-aid is what we feel is the optimal solution. We have so many crusty, dirty, torn band-aids on burdens that we have band-aids to hold band-aids on. Sometimes, the best kind of healing is exposure, to air it out. Last night, I didn’t “fix” the problem, I simply let Kathy it air out.

Saw dust

I always find it fascinating watching people interact. Today I watched as two individuals spared back and forth, speaking of the other person in cryptic yet cutting and biting remarks wanting to let everyone know how they feel about the other person without coming out and boldly proclaiming it; condescending arrogance from one, defensive attack from the other. My heart broke when with each comment both individuals looked at me seeking affirmation to the hurtful encrypted message they were sending. I wonder how much Christ’s heart breaks when we pray for the speck to be removed from our brother’s eye, blind to what we have in our own eye. I would like to say that grace was given and grace was received but neither heart listened to His message

On the run

Last night I went for a jog in my neighborhood. I had my ipod blasting in my ears as I was enjoying the first real cool breeze in south Texas in several months. About 2/3’s of the way through I saw it rounding the corner going as slow as it could without being considered parked, playing it’s music louder than my ipod. Yep you guessed I saw the ice cream truck. Push ups, ice cream sandwiches, nutter butter’s all in the back of that truck. Then the real scene happened, a boy no more than 13 began crossing the street. In his arms he carried a baby somewhere between 6-8 months old, no pants, shoes or socks, a bunched up t-shirt that at one time was white and a sagging diaper that would make any plumber jealous. Close on his heals two other kids one about 3 the other about 6 with excitement on their faces not paying any kind of attention to crossing the street. The oldest boy was doing his best to make sure they crossed safely to get to the ice cream truck and I a question went through my head, why was a 13 year old parenting? Who is there for that guy? Here he has all kinds of responsibility running around his ankles but what about him? Who can he be free with, who can he lean on, who can he dream with and be encouraged by, who cares about him? And I kept running.