inconvenient

A couple days ago I was picking up a few things from the grocery store. I thought there was an open parking space close to the door, only to discover one of those new and tiny gas-saving cars hidden there. As I settled for another space down the row, I was struck by how inconvenient it is to walk an extra 30 feet.

Last week I experienced some trouble with my ISP (internet service provider). For some reason I kept getting knocked offline and had to reboot several times. Even though having a high-speed internet connection in my home is a fairly new luxury, I recall feeling very inconvenienced that it didn’t work perfectly.

This past Sunday I went to church…

We treat our churches like they’re the grocery store or an ISP, don’t we? We act like they ought to scratch us where we itch and meet our every felt need. One word that super-spiritual people always like to use in relation to their church is the word “fed.” Usually it’s in a very negative context like, “I’m just not being fed at my church” or “I have to go to a church that feeds me.” Now, where is that in the Bible? While I hope and pray that every church preaches the Word of God boldly and accurately, is it their responsibility to feed us?

There are a few passages in the New Testament that reference spiritual food (1 Cor. 3:2, 10:3, Heb. 5:12-13, 1 Peter 2:2), usually milk in particular, but those passages challenge us to grow up. They confront us about spiritual growth and maturity. A newborn baby needs to be fed milk, but what about a growing, maturing child? Shouldn’t he be able to feed himself? At least in part?! Wouldn’t it be sad to see a mother still bottle feeing her 13 year old? It makes me wonder…are our churches full of spiritual children still demanding to be fed by others? Unable to feed themselves?!

Even worse than that is the fact that we treat God like this too. Right? Don’t we pray (and by pray I mean “whine”) about things that we want, but don’t really need? Haven’t you caught yourself asking (and by asking I mean “begging”) for God to make you happy and feel good? Is it not accurate to say that typically we believe (and by believe I mean “demand”) that God is on the job to heal all our wounds, fix all our mistakes and clean up all our messes? Whether we recognize it or not, our American perspective of God is that He’s some giant, generous Santa in the sky. We love it when He does what we want and pull away when He doesn’t.

Come on. Let’s be honest here. If we’re inconvenienced even the slightest bit by God or His Church, we’re ticked. We’ll just quit altogether! Why get up early and go to church with real people when TBN is on all day? It’s too inconvenient. Why volunteer to serve when someone else will do it for you? It’s too inconvenient. Why witness to your neighbor when the pastor gets paid to do that? It’s too inconvenient. Why read your Bible when there’s a great movie on? It’s too inconvenient.

I’m beginning to think that God is all about inconvenience. I don’t think He wants us to be comfortable. I don’t believe He likes it when we’re content with ourselves and our world. I can’t imagine He’s pleased with a people that like things just the way they are, thank you very much. Our lives are far too convenient, our churches are way too accommodating and our gospel is abundantly too easy.

The God of the Bible is extraordinarily inconvenient. He doesn’t seem to care if we’re happy at home—He’ll move us anyway (Gen. 12:1). He’s not embarrassed to ask us for our most prized possession (Gen. 22:1-18) and doesn’t mind wrestling us to the ground from time to time (Gen. 32:22-32). He shakes the mountains (1 Kings 19:11-13), unsettles the nations (Isaiah 13:4) and even allows death (Heb. 2:9).

Now, don’t misunderstand the point. All of this inconvenience is rooted in love. Everything God does is because of His great love for us. That may not make a lot of sense, but when has love ever made a lot of sense. Are you married? Does it make sense? Do you have children? Do they make sense? When has love ever made sense? Love is crazy and erratic and…well, inconvenient.

Your mountains may be shaken, your prized possession may be required or your comfortable life may be turned on its ear. But take comfort. Not only is that okay…it’s good. It’s a good thing to be inconvenienced by God. Trust His heart of love, embrace your inconvenient life and hang on for the ride!

weary

Weary. That word is probably a good summation of this past week. I don’t know where it came from, but something happened somewhere on Thursday afternoon to just lay me and Carla out. It probably wasn’t any one, big thing, but a collection of multiple, smaller things. Regardless, quite out of the blue, we felt spiritually bankrupt. We were so discouraged, depressed and exhausted. That feeling lasted into Saturday morning when we finally asked for help.

I guess until then we thought it was just a case of “the Mondays” or something. Anyway, on Saturday morning we sent out a few emails asking for prayer from people we knew would literally stop what they were doing and pray for us immediately. They did. And guess what. Saturday improved. We woke up Sunday not to perfect circumstances—in fact it was bumpy like most Sundays are—but we felt renewed strength and hope. Our service ended up being a powerful, unifying experience. We took a great step toward becoming a church planting team instead of a small church.

Anyway, back to that word: weary. (Often we get so excited about the good outcome that we forget all the pain it took to get there. Let’s not forget the journey.) I left the house Thursday afternoon to get a haircut and spend a little time in prayer. While praying, my mind wandered to a scene I recently saw in a dramatic retelling of the American Revolution. In it, George Washington is telling John Adams that he’s weary of the burden of being the President, another possible war, etc. Well, I could identify. I told the Lord that I was absolutely weary of our position and responsibilities. Immediately, the Holy Spirit responded, “Don’t be weary in well-doing.”

I didn’t want to hear that. In fact, I said so…out loud. I told God I knew that was true and Biblically correct, but still didn’t want to hear it. A weary person doesn’t want to hear “stop being weary.” That just makes the weariness even more wearisome. I wanted some kind of miracle. I wanted a lightening bolt. I wanted… anything but more words. Yet, somehow, that word was enough. Barely, but it was.

When I got home I looked that passage up, wrote it on a sticky note and put it on the fridge where everything important goes. Then Carla forwarded me an email from one of our praying friends. The Lord spoke the same verse to her about us. Then another said the same thing. Then a movie preview, believe it or not! I have no doubt that word was from God. That knowledge doesn’t necessarily make it all better, but it helps.

Of particular significance to me is the organic imagery at the end. “At the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” It’s okay to be weary. It’s not okay to give up. I don’t know the proper time. I never have. I’ve driven myself crazy to figure it out and worked myself silly trying to make it come prematurely. He knows, though. He knows the proper time and is slowly and patiently bringing it into our reality.

If I were to chart our lives for the past two years, I think we moved here on a pretty big high. Slowly and consistently, though, we wilted. I think we declined for a whole year, pretending everything was cool and good and right. Finally, after a year of suffering and pain, we admitted our brokenness and recognized our struggle against God Himself. At that point we flattened out and walked with God, on rock bottom, for about another year. Well over the past month or so, I think we’ve been making very slow progress back up. We are ascending out of the valley, the desert, the wilderness—whatever you want to call it. But it’s as slow coming back up as it was going down. Maybe slower! But we are making progress little by little. I see that. And I’m trying very hard to not be weary. Well, that’s not really accurate. I’m trying very hard to not get too weary…so weary that I give up. That would be the real tragedy. To come all this way, to sacrifice all this, to endure so much…all for nothing.

I believe the harvest is coming. And I believe it will be worth the weariness. We will not give up, Lord! One more day, Jesus! Here we go!

paradox

There is a paradox at the heart of the Christian faith. If you haven't acutely felt it yet, you will. We are sinful, weak, flawed human beings...yet we are also holy, sacred, chosen creatures. We are capable of the most beautiful works of art and acts of compassion...yet we are also guilty of the most heinous, evil acts of brutality conceivable. How can both of these things be true? How can we possibly exist in such a dual reality?

Sometimes I get stuck on a passage of Scripture. Lately it's been John 12:23-28. Jesus and His disciples have just entered Jerusalem like a rock band on tour. We usually refer to it as "The Triumphal Entry." The people are going crazy cheering, singing, throwing down palm branches and their coats for Jesus to walk on. One would think that Jesus is overwhelmed with gratitude, but He's not. Quite the opposite, in fact. While most would be basking in their own glory, Jesus is solemnly dwelling on the glory of His Father.

Some people think a true leader is always rock-solid, always secure, never struggling, never in pain. That's not a picture of Jesus in this passage. He transparently admits that His "heart is troubled" (v. 27). He's weak at this moment and not afraid to admit it. The omniscient (all-knowing) Son of God sees what's before Him - the pain of the cross - and doesn't want to suffer. He wants to bail on the plan, run away from the struggle, hide...but He does not. Even within the most horrendous circumstances possible, with His life literally on the line, Jesus knows and follows His divine purpose. With all the strength He can muster, Jesus boldly proclaims, "Father, glorify your name" (v. 28)!

There is only one reason Jesus can endure this kind of pain and suffering. There is only one reason for this kind of struggle. Only one thing explains the paradox and Jesus knows what that one thing is. It's not about us. He knows that there is something bigger going on. There's a larger and grander tale being told. His death, though awful, is a necessary, realistic part of the overall story. So, Jesus can press on. He can keep going. He can courageously charge forward knowing full well how devastating it will be. See, if it's not about us, if it's actually about the Father, even death is okay. There is victory even in the grave.

"I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds" (v. 24). The majority of us won't physically die a martyr's death like Jesus did, but that doesn't mean we won't die. There will be seasons of pain, suffering and death - many times excruciatingly difficult - in every one of our lives. We will die to ourselves - our own dreams, plans, desires, etc. In those times it's so easy and so common to falter in our faith. We have a hard time standing strong with Jesus, boldly declaring the glory of the Father. It can seem strange that a loving God would allow this much suffering. The paradox can feel so confusing, so infuriating, so hopeless.

"The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me" (v. 25-26). In other words, you can't run from it. The paradox is reality in every one of us whether we acknowledge it or not. So, just be real about it. Like Jesus, open up. Like Jesus, share your pain. Like Jesus, push through no matter what. Like Jesus, muster up the courage to glorify the Father right smack dab in the middle of your most horrible experience. It's not about you. Let yourself die that He might live in and through you. Our death is His glory!

secret ingredient

People love secrets. I learned that from my years of youth ministry. If I had a secret, any secret, those kids wanted to know. I love preaching sermons while some object is covered up. I have some great stories with secret, surprise endings. Even websites with secret “Easter eggs” are more fun and popular. I think we feel special somehow, in-the-loop, when we know a secret. Well, I want to share one with you today.

I believe there’s a secret ingredient that is missing from the spiritual lives of most people. Like trying to follow a recipe without knowing that key, missing ingredient, we get frustrated because it’s just not turning out right. The cookies just don’t taste the same. The marinade is good, but it’s obvious that something is strangely absent. Wouldn’t you want to know? Wouldn’t you pull out your cook books, jump on Google, call your mom…whatever you needed to do to figure out that key, missing, secret ingredient?

Now, before the dramatic reveal, here’s one more rather frustrating truth. This secret isn’t really a secret. It’s actually quite obvious once you start looking for it. As the old saying goes, it’s hidden in plain sight. It is a major thread woven throughout Scripture. It is the common denominator in history’s greatest spiritual giants. It has even probably been strangely present and helpful in your own life, yet you haven’t recognized the depth of its influence. Simply said, the secret ingredient to a fulfilling, growing, successful Christian journey is this: prayer.

It makes sense now, huh. As soon as it’s pointed out, we can see it. “Of course!” we might say. “How could I have missed it?” we wonder. Well, quite frankly, because prayer is hard. It’s not called a “discipline” for nothing. In fact (I’ll say this as kindly as possible), I would venture to say that many of our “prayers” are not really prayer at all.

If it’s just a repetitive statement at the beginning of a meal because you’re hungry and want to get on with it, is that really prayer? If we only bow our heads and close our eyes because the pastor tells us to, is that really prayer? If we only remember to call on God when the money is tight or a loved one is sick, is that really prayer?

There is very obviously a difference between being a person who prays and a person of prayer. Jesus was a person of prayer. Those who were closest to Him, the Twelve Disciples, were completely humbled by the gap they saw between His prayer life and their own (see Luke 11:1-13). Jesus had a funny habit of getting up “very early in the morning, while it was still dark” (Mark 1:35) to spend time in prayer alone (see also Matt. 14:23). To Jesus, prayer was so much more than a sporadic, half-hearted string of words. To Jesus, prayer was a lifestyle.

Going to church is crucial, but it’s not the secret. Obeying the Ten Commandments is fantastic, but it’s not the secret either. Even reading and studying the Bible, as essential as that is, is not the secret. Prayer is the secret ingredient. If we become people of prayer, we will go to church, obey the commandments, study our Bibles and so much more. And they will not be painful, begrudging chores, but joyful, fulfilling experiences. They will flow from a love relationship with a personal God who listens and speaks back—who communicates with His people in a beautiful dialogue we call “prayer.”

What if you discovered or rediscovered this secret ingredient? How would your life look different if it were marked by a daily dose of prayer? What would a lifestyle of prayer look like for you? I believe it’s the key, the secret ingredient, for me and for you and for us. Let’s start today. Let’s be people of prayer today.

acceptance vs endorsement

I’m currently re-reading a fantastic book called Prayer by Richard Foster. The other day it got me thinking about the very heavy theological doctrine of Original Sin. Without being too technical or academic, the basic idea is this. Due to Adam and Eve’s sin/fall in the Garden of Eden, all of humanity is inherently sinful. At our core, we are broken and can do absolutely nothing to fix that. Sinful humanity requires a Savior and Jesus is He. His saving grace reconciles (bridges the gap of sin between) us and our Creator God. Heavy, huh. Well, I completely agree with this ancient Church doctrine and see it fleshed out constantly. It seems to me that most people sense their sinfulness, but, for many varied reasons, refuse to turn to God. So, the only Source of healing and wholeness becomes yet another thorn in their sides and prick in their conscience.

Most people tell me they don’t like the Church. Surprise, surprise! They say things like “those people are all hypocrites” or “I tried going a couple times, but no one even said ‘hello’ to me.” The general feeling is that the Church is just a big clique that is really tough to break into. Normally, though, when I do some digging, the issue is much deeper than that. These people (and I would include myself here) are really not looking for acceptance. They’re actually looking for endorsement. They are searching anywhere and everywhere for someone or, ideally, some group of people to endorse, support and approve of them.

The problem, of course, is that we can’t ever truly know a person, can we. Even if we’re life long friends. Even if we’re married. Even if we spend every hour of every day together our entire lives, we cannot truly know what is inside a person—how they genuinely feel, think and act when no one else is around. That’s why trust is so critical to any relationship. That’s why we talk and yearn so much for unconditional love—the kind that stays no matter who we are deep down. Because we all know that deep down we’re dirty and evil and disgusting and broken.

Our best friends certainly don't agree with everything we say and all our decisions. But they love and accept us anyway, right? They maintain and even pursue a continued relationship with us not because we're some super-friend who never messes up, but simply because they choose to. They love and accept us because...they love and accept us.

Actually, we don’t even really know ourselves, do we? Have you ever done or said something you were ashamed of later? Ever made a “mistake” that wasn’t really a mistake, but a flat-out sin? Do you ever wonder “what came over me?” or “why am I so angry?” or “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” There’s only One who knows us - truly, knows us. And it ain’t us! The only One who really understands us is the One who created us. He knows all the deep, dark secrets. Nothing is hidden from Him. NOTHING! Even if it seems like we’ve gotten away with something, it’s only a matter of time.

Now here’s the best part. The One who knows all the garbage and sin and evil and junk in our lives... He loves us anyway. Yup! It’s not an issue of trust because, well, He doesn’t need to trust us. He knows it already. It’s not a matter of performing well or saying the right things because He’s everywhere at all times. That is unconditional love! That is the kind of acceptance we all crave so deeply! Isn’t that amazing news?! This is the reason that throughout history God is known by one primary trait: love. He knows it all and still He loves.

God accepts every one of us, sin and all. But He does not endorse it. I know...this is a fine line, huh. I believe the message of Jesus to all of us is, “come as you are, but don’t stay that way.” He has a better way. He knows what life is actually supposed to look like. He can show us the way to true freedom. And, of course, He’s the only One who can help. No one else, including us, knows how broken we are. The Creator is the only One capable of being the Repairer.

If we’re looking for endorsement, find a club. Search for a social organization of some kind with similar values. But know this: you’ll never be whole. It might feel good to be with like-minded people for a little while, but it won’t last. It never does. But if you’re looking for acceptance, try Jesus. I can guarantee He’ll meet you there. He always does.

spoken words

I don’t buy into the whole “name it and claim it” theology. That’s a view of a God who is too small and a human race that is too big. I also don’t buy into the whole prosperity gospel that teaches us to believe God for bigger salaries, larger houses and more expensive cars. From my perspective, the Bible tells us to depend on God and God alone for our hope and provision. Jesus actually had very harsh things to say about those who were materially rich (i.e. Luke 18:18-25). I guess the bottom line is that we do not control God, demanding whatever we want, whenever we want it. Our sovereign Master is in charge and dictates what is right and what is wrong, the correct timing, etc. On the other hand, though, there is something to be said for a tangible, spoken, verbalized faith.

I once heard an African missionary speak about faith. He made a connection I will never forget. He reminded us that, according to Genesis 1, all of creation was spoken into existence. God didn’t use any actual materials when creating us, like a carpenter would use tools and a pile of lumber. No, He simply spoke the words “Let there be light” and light appeared. He said “Let the land produce living creatures” and it just did. The spoken words of God have unlimited and phenomenal creative power. When God speaks, it happens!

This missionary went on to explain that when God created us, He did so in His own image and likeness (1:26-27). Unlike any other part of creation, we look and feel and act like God…at least in part. Unfortunately we all know from experience that we also deal with sin and weakness and failure. We are not God, but we are like God. Well logically thinking, said this missionary, if we were created in the image and likeness of God, and if God’s spoken words have creative power, perhaps our spoken words have some creative power as well.

For years psychology has talked about the power of spoken words. They may use different terminology, like “self talk,” but the idea is still the same. If a child is repeatedly told that he/she is a “loser” and “will never amount to anything,” what usually happens to that child? He/she believes and lives according to those spoken words. Likewise, if a person is constantly affirmed, encouraged and spoken to in a positive manner, he/she is very likely to have a much higher self-esteem, sense of success and happiness in life. Perhaps our verbalized words are much more powerful than we really know.

This idea is consistent with Scripture as well. James, for example, speaks of the power of the tongue. He even likens it to a small spark that can easily start a huge fire (3:5). The Psalms are full of exhortations to open our mouths and praise the Lord (i.e. Psalm 71:8). Even the art of preaching, utilized throughout history, hinges upon the spoken words of God’s people. It makes me wonder if we Christians ought to be much more serious and intentional about verbally speaking words of faith.

I spent some time in prayer this morning and, quite frankly, it was hard. I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t feel spiritual at all. What I did feel was very discouraged and defeated. All I wanted to do was whine and complain. In fact, I even told God that I was having a hard time believing in and trusting Him. I don’t think God was angry at my honesty. It was still, in fact, prayer. But then I felt compelled to push beyond that self-pitying prayer and speak in faith. Once again, I told God something like, “I don’t really believe what I’m about to say, but I’m going to say it anyway.” I then proceeded to thank God for the “impossible.” I began to verbally speak out in faith, praising God with my mouth, singing songs to Him and worshiping Him out loud with actual, literal words. And the strangest thing happened: I felt a change. I sensed my spirit lift and my heart lighten. It seemed that those weak, unfeeling words of mine somehow created a whole new atmosphere of belief and trust.

There’s nothing wrong with silent prayer, but maybe we should try more spoken prayer. We all feel bad and have pity parties now and then, but maybe we should try verbalizing some praises anyway. I realize we won’t always feel like it. We certainly won’t always want to. Try it anyway! Give it a shot! Let that faith within you come spilling out in actual words. Perhaps the creative power of God’s spoken words will show themselves in your spoken words!

ears that hear

Last week we took Josiah to the beach. It just so happened to be the day of a -3.8 tide. I’m not exactly sure what that means, but the water level was way lower than normal. We did meet a guy there who explained that once a decade or so the moon is exactly opposite us and its gravitational pull causes the tide to be pulled back far beyond what is considered typical. Evidently, the water in the Puget Sound was 3.8 feet more shallow than normal.

It was really cool. We saw starfish, sea cucumbers, a sea anemone, tons of barnacles and all kinds of other sights that are great for adults and mesmerizing for children. Josiah was so excited that he kept running off ahead of us to explore more new and uncharted territory. Each time he did we had to call him back and warn him not to get too far ahead. Well, you already know where this is going, don’t you? At one point he bolted, we yelled, but he simply wouldn’t listen. After about a 50-yard sprint, like a prisoner who just got over the wall, Josiah hit a puddle that was a little deeper than he thought and fell, face down, into it. Wet sand and salt water soaked his entire front side as 3-year old screams pierced the air. That kid didn’t even try to get up! He just lay there bawling until I ran up, pulled him out of the puddle, quickly took a picture—it was pretty funny in a twisted kind of way—and comforted him.

Now, that little guy has ears and they work just fine. As a matter of fact, they work pretty great. Carla and I can’t even seem to whisper secrets back and forth any more! He hears them all! But just because he has ears, didn’t mean he heard or listened to our warnings and cries at the beach. If only he’d paid attention to our parental advice. If only he’d obeyed our instructions. If only he had ears that hear.

Doesn’t that describe you and me? How often have we known the right thing, the wise thing, the Godly thing, but still chosen the wrong, the foolish, the ungodly. Most of us have ears that work just fine, but that doesn’t mean we truly hear, listen and obey. Like Josiah, we find ourselves far away from the familiar, loving voice of our Father. We continually fall down, with sin all over us, screaming for help. And He, like a good Father, continually comes to our rescue.

The Bible has a lot to say about this very phenomenon. The prophets, in particular, were known for their attempts to shake people up, disturb the status quo and wake people from their spiritual slumber. In Ezekiel 12:2 God tells the prophet that he lives among a people that “have eyes to see but do not see and ears to hear but do not hear, for they are a rebellious people.” Those kinds of warnings scare me a little. I don’t want to have eyes, but be blind. I don’t want to have ears and yet be deaf. I don’t want to rebel against God. I want to develop and cultivate a spiritual sensitivity for whatever God may be saying and doing.

Maybe “reality” is more than what we can physically see, hear, smell, feel and touch. Perhaps our faith in the unseen is as important—or even more important—than the seen. Maybe it’s possible to see through eyes of faith. Perhaps we can all hear through ears of faith. And maybe, just maybe, that faith will guide us to a whole new place…a whole new way of loving, living and leading like Jesus.

shield of faith

Lately God has really been dealing with me about faith. Scripture teaches that without faith it is impossible—impossible—to please God (Hebrews 11:6). Clearly it’s a big deal. Obviously God wants us to put our hope, trust and reliance upon His unseen and yet vastly superior resources. This church planting process has challenged, bent, stretched and nearly broken my faith. I have come to a dependence on God that I never knew existed or came close to understanding before. The spiritual warfare my family encounters on a daily basis is overwhelming. There is so little that I can do and so much that He can do. I must believe that to survive.

This past week a friend of mine reminded me of Paul’s word in Ephesians 6. He says that our faith is a shield. It’s a source of protection from and defense against “the devil’s schemes.” See, it’s crucial to understand that we’re not fighting each other—other humans—but a spiritual force of evil. Individual humans are not free from their own sin and guilt, to be sure, but they are being controlled and manipulated by an evil one—the devil himself. And, in that furious battle, our faith is a shield.

Our faith is something we can duck behind and find shelter in. Only this shield of faith can block and even extinguish all those flaming arrows of the evil one. I’ve felt the sting of these arrows in the past couple years. Arrows of insecurity and depression; pride and fear; doubt and loneliness. I’m sad to admit that my shield of faith has often been found on the ground instead of in my hand. There have been many times that I forgot what my strong God has already done; what we’ve already come through; what has been promised and guaranteed by the Faithful One.

I have often reflected on how difficult this experience has been. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like we’ve made much progress. We continually struggle with feelings of failure and discouragement. But Paul seems to be okay with that. In fact, he says that wearing all this armor and holding onto this shield of faith will enable us, not to storm the gates of hell, but to simply stand. I find a great deal of encouragement in that! There are many days that we do nothing but stand our ground. This fortress of God has come under intense assault. The “day of evil” has certainly come. But we are still standing. And we will continue to stand.

The best is yet to come! The shalom of God is on the horizon! The miraculous is just around the corner! Victory draweth neigh! Lift up your eyes to the heavens, people of God! He is coming in power! Our protection and deliverance does not come from within, but from a Warrior God whose glory covers the whole earth! Here He comes! Stand and see!

nothing is difficult

About a year ago God told me that He doesn’t just want me to be a man who prays, but a man of prayer. One of the ways I have found to be most helpful for this new lifestyle of prayer is to carve out at least one full morning a week to do nothing except be with God. I usually go for a walk, bike ride or drive. I get out of the office and focus all my attention on the Lord for at least a couple hours. This past Tuesday I went to one of the local beaches and began strolling down the sand.

As I listened to the hypnotic sounds of breaking waves and seagulls, I began to think about the fact that nothing is impossible with God. I was thanking Him for taking care of us and always knowing best. I was feeling very grateful that, with God, all things are possible. But then He interjected. The Lord told me that not only is nothing impossible for Him, but nothing is even difficult.

Whoa! That was a mind bending concept! I guess it’s hard to even fathom that kind of power, because for me almost everything is difficult. Especially lately, every step has been an absolute chore! To think about being able to do anything and everything with ease and grace, without sweating, stressing, struggling…that’s just overwhelming. It sounds unbelievable. It sounds like heaven.

Just about then, I spotted a guy walking his dog down the beach in the opposite direction. From out of the blue came this thought: give that guy $20. “WHAT?! Why? That’s silly. That’s not really God. It’s not like we have money to spare. I can’t do this.” As he passed me by I even squatted down to pet his dog and heard him wish me a good day. I stood completely motionless and watched him walk away, thinking to myself, “Well, I certainly blew that one.” Then God spoke again. “See, nothing is difficult for me, but even the smallest of things is difficult for you.”

It didn’t feel mean or derogatory at all. It felt sad. I think it makes God feel sad that I have so little faith sometimes. Quite frankly, it’s sad to me too! I’ve been a Christian my whole life, raised in a pastor’s home and am a proud seminary graduate. Yet in many ways I am still a spiritual child. If only I could learn to trust Him; depend on Him; believe Him for the impossible.

I’m going to keep exercising my faith muscles. I want my life to look more and more like Elijah, Paul and Jesus. I don’t want the little things to trip me up and be so hard. I want to learn to trust God with anything and everything. I know I’m not there yet, but I am progressing. God is helping me every step of the way. Slowly but surely I’m learning to view life through God’s perspective, God’s eyes. Slowly but surely I’m letting go of my humanity and embracing His divinity.

My poor little human brain cannot possibly grasp God’s amazing plan. I have always known that nothing was impossible, but now I’m coming to see that nothing is even difficult. And if I’m in Christ, that’s true for me too! If God has called me, if I’m following His lead, not only is nothing impossible, but nothing is difficult! Woo Hoo!!!

squeaky brakes

The other day I went for a short bike ride. Actually it was a bit of an emotional ride. Okay, I was mad. I was mad at God, I was frustrated with our circumstances, I was…having a pity party. We have our good days and bad days. It was a bad day that day so I went for a ride. There are some great trails in a park close to our house so I started riding down them. I found this really cool little spot off the trail with a huge tree and some logs surrounding it. It was obvious that I wasn’t the first one to spend some time there. And the hypodermic needles let me know not everyone was praying! Anyway…

So I got off my bike and started pacing around that huge tree. God and I were having a very serious conversation about church planting. Right in the middle of one of my bitter rants, I heard something. It was in the distance, but getting closer, and it was annoying. It was a high pitched squeal. It would stop for a few seconds and then start up again. Off and on, off and on—annoying, irritating, disrupting my precious pity party!

Well, I couldn’t focus on my tirade with this racket so I paused long enough for the interruption to pass. Then I saw the source. It was a father and son on a ride together. The father was in the lead of a downhill section. It could have been out of safety or fear, but that guy just kept hitting the brakes…squeaky brakes! It was like fingernails down the chalkboard every few seconds. Lovely. Evidently I wasn’t the only one annoyed by this either, because just as they passed me by, the son shouted something to his dad. “DAD! YOUR SQUEAKY BRAKES ARE RUINING THIS EXPERIENCE!”

I’ve been squeaking a lot lately. Even I, the source, know that. Even I, the source, am annoyed by it. How many more people are having their experience ruined by my squeaky brakes?!

It’s taken me a couple days to realize this, but here it finally is. That father and son bike ride was supposed to be an enjoyable experience. It was supposed to be a fun and exciting adventure. It’s sad that something as small as squeaky brakes could get in the way, but that’s just the reality. Now, those brakes didn’t stop them. They didn’t cause the father or the son to cease the bike ride or fall to the ground. But they sure did put a kink in the ambiance. They sure did affect the journey. That father and son were going to get to their destination with or without the squeaky brakes, but the manner in which they dismounted their bikes at the end could swing in one of two ways. And to think, a fairly minor adjustment could have changed all that!

I can be a very negative person. I am the king of cynicism. I have a real talent for spotting the bad in just about everything and everyone. Then, upon the discovery, I can pick it apart and dwell on it for hours, days or even weeks! I know, I know. If only they had an Olympic event for it. I would definitely win the gold in the 400 Meter Squeak!

See, God and I are on this journey one way or the other. He is leading the way and I am following. My negative, squeaky brakes aren’t stopping us or killing me, but it sure is ruining the experience. It was supposed to be this amazing, fun, spectacular and even miraculous adventure, but often I find myself just feeling irritated, exhausted and frustrated. All I can see is the bad. All I dwell on is the pain. Squeak. Squeak! SQUEAK!

God reminded me of that day and that example this morning. He revealed something very important to me. If I would just shut my stinkin’, squeakin’, negative mouth, I might just have a blast. I might be able to look at the beauty surrounding me. I might be able to feel the wind in my face and sense the thrill of the ride. I might get to the end of this ride, dismount with a smile, and say, “WOW! LET’S GO AGAIN!”

And to think, a fairly minor adjustment could change all this! Less squeaking for me. Let’s go for a ride!