the god of stuff

What is the most valuable possession you own?

When I asked a group of teens to name the one possession they would be sure to save in the event of an emergency such as a housefire they began naming things like their phone, car keys, pet, and PS4.

And how could I blame them? I'm sure my answer to the question of what is most valuable to me has changed multiple times over the years. 

What we find most valuable isn't always the thing that costs the most money. Oftentimes it's the thing that occupies the majority of our time.

As a child it may very well have been my game system. The original Nintendo for all the 30's in the crowd. That and a box of Little Debbie's were the prized possessions going in my bag the day I screamed "I hate you" and decided to leave home as a kid (The Life of a Prodigal).

As a teen, it was sports and relationships. I lived to hear my middle school girlfriend breathe on the other end of the family's landline phone while watching "Saved by the Bell" and "Family Matters" every day after school. And I was constantly trying to impress my classmates with some masterful art of hitting and shooting a ball. Those abilities were the most valuable possessions I owned through school and I protected them and showcased them like I was some kind of "Million Dollar Man."

When I reached early adulthood I focused on being a good preacher. Being a likable youth pastor. A respected student of academic success. I was collecting degrees like a warm summer's day! Planning trips and retreats! Being Mr. Cool with the kids and staying calm, cool, and collected with the parents and those silver-haired ladies from the church. But just like sports, being cool has a shelf life.

I'm older now. And I've sat aside some of those childish pursuits like video games, popularity, and achievements to be applauded by others. Or have I?

Back to the original question; what is the most valuable possession I own? Is it my truck, TV, credit card, gun safe, or recliner? I don't think so. As those students shared that day I kept waiting on my turn. I didn't hesitate. I know it's not worth much but it's invaluable to me. It's a painting. But not just any painting.

Several years ago I went on a trip to Africa. Nearly three weeks on foreign soil away from my family. When I finally arrived back in the US, I was greeted by my family. My son came peering through the crowd and my mom stood at just the right angle to capture a photo of me dropping my bags and embracing my son perhaps like nothing before or since the day he was born. And that moment has become a token, a stake in the ground for me to visualize the real meaning and value of love (Love God's Way).

That picture has since been enhanced into a painting that remains in our bathroom and every time I see it I remember the moments of that trip, that embrace, and that love that has forever been branded on my heart. And should anything happen and I would need to quickly evacuate my home, it would become the one possession (besides family) in my home that I would attempt to rescue.

But forsaking one thing for another isn't cheap or easy. Those possessions symbolize and epitomize the value we have placed on the treasures of our heart. Left to its own devices, our hearts will often default to a place of comfort and convenience as its most valuable treasure.

I asked those students two questions: (1) What lie are you willing to believe to be satisfied? (2) What are you willing to sacrifice to be satisfied?

In the Garden of Eden Adam and Eve believed the lie that it would be more satisfying to take the forbidden fruit than to honor the authority and promise of God's word to remain in the garden with Him.

Esau believed selling his birthright to his brother for a bowl of stew would be more satisfying than the promised inheritance for maintaining his legal rite and status as the firstborn of Isaac's children.

These possessions that we claim to own aren't really ours to keep. They're meant for something more. There's a difference in being a consumer and a steward. Consumers believe that what's theirs is theirs and for their own benefit. Stewards realize what they have is on loan and meant to be used for a greater purpose beyond themselves.

Rather than being a collector, be a giver. Rather than clenching to what's yours, cheerfully let it go. Rather than being greedy, choose to be generous. And be grateful!

The Bible says, "what does it profit a man to gain the whole world yet forfeit his own soul?" The stuff in this world will never completely satisfy. No person, no possession, no performance. Nothing. What is your soul worth? Is it really worth a few moments of chasing empty allusions that never really amount to much in the end?

"Store up for yourselves treasures in heaven...for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Friend, we would do well to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus and what matters most to Him. He is the only Source that can truly satisfy the longing of our soul.

Forty Years!

The number 40 has a certain amount of significance. The great Flood lasted forty days and nights. Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years after escaping Egypt. Forty days lapsed between Jesus' resurrection and ascension.

Today marks my parents' 40th wedding anniversary!

Two individuals from modestly conservative homes. Merely kids when they decided to tie the knot. Who witnessed two strikingly different family models. Two individuals who are vastly different having been shaped by their family's values and the uniqueness of their own personalities and life experiences.

How have they made it this far? How has this man and woman been able to navigate this journey of marriage for forty years having met on such varying places of the relational spectrum? They didn't just fast forward to some time in the future.

It has been an unwavering commitment of 14,610 days. This includes all the birthdays, holidays, special days, and what many would call regular days. 10 leap years. 10 Olympic Games. 10 Presidential elections.

It has been an unwavering commitment of 350,640 hours. Long hours in baby delivery rooms, hospital waiting rooms with sick and passing family members, sleepless nights laying silent in the bed from an earlier disagreement, nights at home alone due to work and travel. Sacrifices made for the sake of the other.

It has been an unwavering commitment of 21,038,400 minutes of choosing to say yes and stay committed to this relationship no matter what the circumstances may be. Understanding that there is no opt-out clause for this covenantal relationship. Not allowing their minds to wander to the tempting places of 'what if things were different' when life became difficult or feelings of loneliness or discontentment creeped in.

Multiple kids, multiple jobs, multiple housing locations, multiple dreams, multiple opportunities taken and some even denied. But one singular purpose. A relationship built on the promise of their vows on their wedding day. With all the changes they've experienced through life for the past forty years they have not excluded or minimized their commitment to one another.

Today seems appropriate to celebrate a victory. A milestone. A watershed moment. But days like today never come apart from the small victories they have experienced daily for the past 40 years.

My parents aren't perfect. And I haven't always agreed with their parenting decisions and even sometimes their personal decision-making. But they've been a model of consistency and a bedrock foundation of faithfulness for me to see as I establish and pursue my own blueprint for parenting and personal relationships.

Oh the stories us kids could share of how our parents have raised us and helped provide a clear path into maturity and adulthood. And oh the stories we've learned as adults that they shielded us from as kids to protect our innocence at vulnerable seasons in our life.

Loads of grace, forgiveness, and love have become the requisites for sustaining a marriage that has spanned the past forty years. Putting personal preferences aside at times for the sake of the other. Choosing to say "I'm sorry" instead of "I told you so." They have loved one another; they've protected and provided for one another and our family incredibly well. 

While their grit, determination, and unwavering commitment have proven to outlast the cultural norm of revolving door relationships there is no question they both would admit that it's truly by the grace of God that the longevity and mutual love of their relationship exists.

God took two broken people and formed a united bond of marriage and simply asked them to keep Him at the center of their relationship. He then simply asked them watch how He could fashion and form a beautiful family by weaving His grace through the complexities of their lives together.

For the disheartened, there's hope. For the hurt, there's forgiveness. For the tired, there's rest. For those in the middle of the mess, cling to what is good. For those on the outside looking in, give grace. For those considering what's best for themselves, choose to love the other. For those considering giving up, there can be victory. For all of us, He's writing a story of epic proportions that will ultimately bring glory to Himself! 

Saturday Down South

It's Saturday down South!

SUV's and RV's parked in the lot outside the stadium. Antennas tuned in to ESPN College Game Day. The FM station on radios tuned in to everyone's favorite pre-game show.

Drinks in the cooler. Dogs on the grill. Corn hole. Ladder ball. Sitting under canopies in the shade. And stories of last year's win against today's chump change team.

Guys three cars down that you've never met take a seat or play a game like they've attended your backyard BBQ's for years.

As time nears kickoff you begin making your way to the stadium. Filing in. Through the gates. Down the aisle. To your seats. It's a sea of our favorite fall colors. Red. Crimson. Orange. Gold.

We stand. We kneel. We salute. We pledge. We pray. We play.

Opening kickoff jitters and jeers. Flags and towels waving. Voices screaming. The offense takes the helm. Marching the ball down the field. Cheering on every caught pass. Booing every missed penalty. High-fiving our new found friends in seats 23 and 24 on row CC near the forty yard line.

Isn't it funny the emotional highs and lows we experience based on a nineteen year old's ability to catch or throw a football?

Can't wait for the third quarter. Halftime speech. Second half defense. The athletes are gonna start pulling away in the fourth quarter. Grinding. Pounding. Overpowering. Running five stars in one right after another.

The final second ticks off the clock. Our team on top. Again. Crowd goes wild. Teams shake hands. Players make their way to the student section to sing their beloved alma mater. It's something heavenly.

Saturday down South! It's truly a wonderful experience. A worshipful experience.

Gathering in our sacred cathedrals. Dressed in our sacred attire. Chanting our sacred hymns. Sacred leaders reading the script of their sacred book.

Don't get me wrong. I live in the South. And I have a team. I may not be tailgating in a college football town but I'm gathering with family or friends on Saturday afternoon sporting my team's colors, eating pizza or burgers, watching the game on the big screen with surround sound.

But Sunday's create a similar experience. Gathering in our churches. Singing our songs. Praying our prayers. Preaching our sermons. Giving our money.

And if we're not careful it will be brought to our attention that all we did was shift our focus from the god of Saturday to the god of Sunday; from the god of sports to the god of religion.

Perspective; that's all I'm saying. Perspective. God gave us competition, entertainment, and community that could be built around our favorite schools and sports teams. But He never intended for it to dominate our affections, attitudes, and actions.

On Saturday's we have permission to cheer and laugh and play and enjoy spending time with friends and family. But choose to find Christ at the center of all we think, and say, and do.

On Sunday's we have permission to be more reverent and reserved. But choose to remember the great sacrifice Jesus has made to give us reason to celebrate all the more.

Passion and enthusiasm are words that can cross all cultural lines. Therefore, passionate worship can be a spontaneous yet deliberate act of gratitude toward One greater than your favorite team or player; our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Cheer. Support. Watch intently the games of your favorite teams. Wear their gear. Talk about the game with your friends. Find the highs and lows. Offer words of encouragement in plausible ways.

And as a Christian, cheer on those running this same race. Watch their lives. Look for the fruit of their faith. Make them a priority. Encourage them. Worship God together.

Don't just be a fan in the stands. Don't just find your name on the injured reserve from some story in your past. Don't be envious of your teammates or fear your rival.

Get on the field. Play the game. The head ball coach is calling your number. He's calling your name. He's inviting you to play. This is your spiritual act of worship!

The Good Portion

Do you know what Memorial Day and Labor Day have in common? 

Food. 

Firing up the grill. Opening up the pool. Horseshoes. Corn hole. Watermelon. Homemade ice cream. Meat. Lots of meat. And all the fixins'.

At these shindigs you have the fixers and the eaters. And I'm an eater. 

Sure, organization and preparation and serving are necessary. But when you've been in the family long enough, no matter how many people show up, everybody quickly assumes their position. Table setters and consumers. 

I'm generally stationed by the pool with the kids. Why? Because I'm a kid at heart. I'd rather play than work any day. I'm not bringing potato salad, baked beans, or churning ice cream. I'm swimming laps around the eight year old's. Loving every minute of Marco Polo, sharks & minnows, and flips off the diving board. 

My set of eyes on others' kids frees them to prepare a delicious cuisine fresh off the grill that we can all enjoy. I'm making the sacrifice. Just doing my part!

Have you ever thought about your role? Are you a fixer or eater? Producer or Consumer?

These questions took me back to a story about two individuals that were serving and sitting. It's the story of Martha and Mary. Martha was busy in the kitchen while Mary appeared to be doing nothing.

Luke tells this story, "Martha welcomed Jesus into her house." How thoughtful. How sweet. How hospitable. But that kind of makes sense. It was Jesus. Many were intrigued by Him. Others had grown to adore Him. Martha had become friends with Him. 

But then the story makes a strange shift. "Martha became distracted with much serving." In the kitchen cooking, in the living room decorating, on the front porch sweeping. I don't know. Those seem to make sense. But she had become distracted. Too busy to notice. Notice what? I don't know. Maybe too busy to notice Jesus. 

And her busyness led to frustration. "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone?" You see when we get busy and place our worth and value on our deeds we get tangled up in this web of comparison that sets our gaze on others instead of fixing our eyes on Jesus. It's a slippery slope that's extremely dangerous and deceiving. 

Her frustration led to anxiety and worry. Do more. Do different. Catch up. Not good enough. Not fair. And Jesus said, "Martha, you're worried and troubled about many things." It makes sense that Jesus would come to her rescue. Console her. Feed her impulse of feeling neglected and alone. 

But check this out. He cut her no slack. "Mary has chosen the good portion." In other words, Mary has chosen the better thing. Talk about a slap in the face. Working, working, working. Your sister has chosen the better thing. 

What was Mary doing that constituted something better than Martha's hospitality and service for Jesus? "Mary sat at the Lord's feet listening to what He said." Wow! Mary was sitting down at the feet of Jesus, doing the better thing, and received His praise. Wouldn't you be a little ticked if your sister was sitting there in the floor instead of being in the kitchen making preparations? 

And here lies the great dilemma of yet another sibling rivalry. The clashing of personalities. A difference in perspective. The re-arranging of priorities. So, what does having a Mary heart in a Martha world look like? It looks like this. 

Neither of them had done anything wrong. There's a time and place for both sitting and serving. For dispensing and consuming. But Jesus lends us His words to prioritize the heart of these two ladies. Martha had become worried while her sister was worshipping. 

In John's account of this story, Martha was serving, Lazarus was reclining at the table, and Mary had taken an open vessel of perfume to wash Jesus' feet. She wept, she washed, she wiped, she worshipped. It was a beautiful picture with a wide angle lens of community and fellowship. 

In a world where our accomplishments so readily receive the applause of man, Jesus said it was better to submit to His authority, hear His word, and gladly obey His teaching. 

There's no place to advocate laziness or the skillful art of abdicating our responsibilities but we must learn to prioritize our lives so that we are constantly seeking to do the better thing. Organization, preparation, and work are necessary. But not at the expense of spending quality time with Jesus. He's not called us to do things for Him in place of being with Him. 

Religious activity apart from a meaningful relationship will produce begrudging obedience instead of glad obedience. Jesus desires for us to have an inexpressible joy and peace that can only be found in wholehearted submission to Him. 

Setting the table is necessary. But so is supervising the kids in the pool. One's not more important than the other. But we must remember "whatever we do, we do for the glory of God." That's the better thing! 

Beach Vacation: Mission Accomplished

I love to vacation at the beach.

Waves crashing. Sun shining. Sand glistening.

I wake up each morning and step out onto the balcony with my cup of coffee looking for dolphins effortlessly gliding across the top of the water. It's something that’s majestic!

Then it comes time to load up the beach buggy and make the journey down to the white sand beaches of bliss. But not without the dreaded elevator debacle. Anywhere lower than about floor number six is worth the hassle of the stairs. Beach buggy and all.

Finally you get to the beach. You know somebody in the family went down at dawn to set up the tent and umbrellas so there you go darting in the direction of the most glorious of ocean views.

Unpacking snorkels, a frisbee, and sunscreen someone speaks up and asks for a sandwich and a drink. "Seriously? We just got here!"

Kids and sand castles go together like peas and carrots or peanut butter and jelly. It's an almost necessary exercise of skill and imagination. Even writing messages in the sand. There's something about those small grains of sand running through your fingers and toes.

Stretched out on a towel or in your beach chair you watch sea gulls and pelicans diving after a meal like kamikaze pilots into the water. Just as you feel yourself start to drift off in the afternoon ocean breeze you hear the kids making their way to the tent saying, "We want to go to the pool!"

Packing up the beach toys. Breaking down the beach umbrellas. All the beach bums begin to hide like it's the brink of the apocalypse. Trudging your way to the steps with beach bags on each shoulder, a tube around your head, and pulling a cooler you make your way to the courtesy shower. Spraying sand and seaweed out of the cracks and pockets of your beach chairs and swim shorts.

Back to the elevator you go. Smells of sweat and sandy ocean water. Rising temperatures and uncomfortable closeness caused by teetering the maximum capacity limit. Coolers, chairs, beach bags, and skimboards. Awkward stares when the elevator door opens. It's like the Forrest Gump of elevator travel, "this seat's taken!"

Back to the room in a mad dash to shower and change clothes because there's always that one person with the itinerary. Times, locations, details. Out to eat, a quick round of mini golf and go carts, then back to the beach at sunset to get our annual family white shirt beach photo for Christmas cards later this year.

And who could forget a nice cool walk on the beach after dark with flashlights and small nets searching for sand crabs. Only to be followed up with a large bowl of ice cream while watching tomorrow's weather or a recap of the day's sports before bedtime.

The week ends and you pack up the beach house or condo and prepare to make the trek home. Your attitude stuck somewhere in the middle of exhaustion and success. The beach was great. The food was great. Time with family was great. Now you're going back home. Your house. Your bed. Your routine. Vacation ain't easy for the one footing the bill. But looking back you can say, "Mission accomplished!"

Jesus walked the streets and beaches with His closest friends and family like that. Early mornings and late nights observing God's creation in the serenity and quietness of being alone on the shore. Having meals on the beach. Taking the boat out on the water. People watching and conversations as the tides rolled in. Maybe even photo ops with little boys and girls on the big rocks by the bay.

He spent three years with these guys. Guys with different personalities. Different backgrounds. Different stories. Sometimes in tight quarters. But long walks on the beach can change a man. He began to share His heart; His mission. It wasn't a dream vacation. It became more like work.

The stories and parables and miracles. That was probably like amusement parks and beach vacations. People beaming over the multitudes being fed and the lame made to walk. Those moments no doubt were filling up their Instagram and SnapChat feeds daily. #nofilterneeded

But then He began to say things that were disturbing. "I did not come to be served, but to serve. I came to lay down my life, and if I lay it down I will take it up again. I am sending you out as sheep among wolves. Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me."

These words provided the dizzying effect of change. His followers could no longer simply listen to these words and remain the same. It wasn't just a vacation; it had become a mission. Jesus was not aimlessly wandering around the beaches and mountains of Palestine simply looking for a good time. He was intentionally going somewhere. And He invited people to come along with Him.

He took His parables and miracles to the masses to make Himself known. But that was not His ultimate mission. He wasn't looking to impress people with His oration or supernatural abilities to heal the sick and diseased. He came to die that we may live. And by way of the cross and empty tomb He did just that; mission accomplished.

Tipping our beach hats to the words of Jesus from the safety of the shore is easy. It's like building castles in the sand. But refusing to trust and obey will only guarantee that our castles will take a hit when the tides of life come rolling in. Fully embracing the words of Jesus is living a life of faith that believes He is and has done all that He has said!

It's more than splashing through the water and basking in the sun. It's more than re-organizing your thought patterns and priorities. It's a re-orienting of your heart toward the person of Jesus. It's surrender. It's commitment. It's an exchange; His life for yours. It's not a week long vacation; it's a life long mission. And it's you banking your life on the One who's footed the bill!

Deal or No Deal

Have you ever watched an episode of the game show "Deal or No Deal?"

Howie Mandel decked out in his sharp black blazer and twenty six models with sparkling dresses carrying briefcases of heavenly wonder. While most models remain nameless to the casual viewer, Meghan Markle, a Deal or No Deal model, is making her way onto life's grandest stage of British royalty.

A lucky contestant chooses the one briefcase they're convinced holds the $1 million card inside. And one by one they begin to eliminate every other briefcase of what they believe to be a lesser prize.

Then the banker calls. Making an offer unquestionably less than the desirable $1 million pot but an enticing offer that is clearly known. No need to wonder. Or guess. Or question. The number is in plain view. It's a gamble. Take it or leave it. "Deal or No Deal!"

It reminds me of a story about a man referred to as the rich young ruler. He approaches Jesus one day and says, "What must I do to inherit eternal life?" Surely Jesus knows the man's intent and is even somewhat aware of his deeds as He begins to list off many of what we know to be the 10 Commandments. The guy's eyes must have lit up to hear these words ringing in his ears as he says, "I have kept all of these since I was young."

And the text says, "Jesus looked at him, loving him..." 

It seems reasonable that you or I would be thinking, "I'm crushing it! I'm going to heaven! Jesus is picking me to be on His team!"

What will be Jesus's next words? Is He going to affirm the young man for his deeds or yank the carpet out from under his feet? Is he about to place the proverbial winner's crown on his head or send him to the back of the line to try again?

"One thing you lack; go, sell all your possessions and give to the poor. Then come follow Me."

Wait. You mean to tell me that this guy has lived a near perfect life according to the letter of the law and now he needs to forfeit it all to inherit this new way of life from Jesus?

The text says, "he went away sorrowful for he had much wealth."

This culture embraced the notion that riches and good fortune was a sign of God's blessing, and poverty and sickness was evidence of God's curse. He's lived a life of moral superiority and accumulated an extraordinary amount of material possessions to only have it stripped away for some ethereal wonderment.

Forced to respond to the call of the banker, He said by his withdrawal from the conversation, "No deal!"

But isn't this similar to our circumstances? We create or assume some moral code by which we believe our good deeds need to outweigh our bad deeds to supplant ourselves in the favorable position of being in the presence of God. Or we believe that our hard work and rightful wages can somehow be used to pay off the divine heavenly guard at the gate of heaven at our life's end.

Moral achievement and material accumulation can never replace the requirement of total surrender. We keep holding on to that one briefcase believing that it holds the key to our happiness. To the life we've always dreamed of having. As long as we have the box we feel we have control. There are other briefcases to be opened and maybe we'll make a trade. But what do we do when the banker calls?

God is not making compromises to His high and lofty standard or establishing a unique set of rules just for you. He created one standard by which we all must abide; only through Jesus can we inherit this life. The down payment was submitted. The invitation was extended. "Come follow Me!"

Loosening our grip on the little silver briefcase of all that we've accomplished and gathered up for ourselves is the necessary act of surrender to truly be changed and receive the sure offer of salvation extended through the personal invitation of Jesus.

The banker is calling, "Deal or No Deal!"

Palm Branches and Late Night TV

Do you remember the days as a kid waking up in the middle of the night by the sudden surge of last  night's dinner rearing it's dreadful face?

Splattered on the floor because you couldn't tiptoe your way to the bathroom without your night light on, and all you knew to do was whisper, "Mom, I need you!"

Lights on. Hovered over the toilet. Cold damp rag now placed on the back of your neck. A couple of saltine crackers and a small glass of ginger ale. That nauseating feeling now at bay after several heaves into some porcelain bowl. "Lord, please let this cup pass from me!"

You make your way to the living room sofa with a new set of PJ's. Your mom turns on the TV with you favorite popcorn bowl resting by your side until you doze off to sleep again.

All you can hope for is, "morning is coming!" When all will be made right by cheese toast, a glass of orange juice, and a fading memory of last night's horrific scene that formed a trail of slightly used spaghetti noodles down the hallway.

My mom and sister still get a kick at reminding me how bad of a patient I was as a kid, moaning and whining and complaining about how bad I was feeling. I was a terrible patient. I showed a low tolerance for pain and discomfort.

Just to be clear, I hate pain and suffering. It's seems so emasculating. And to think that pain is sometimes necessary is despicable to me.

I prefer comfort and convenience. And, in most cases, I like to be in control. Every 'i' dotted and every 't' crossed. Writing out my story where I get everything I ever wanted and seeing the story through to the end.

Can you imagine the Sunday before Easter? Palm Sunday as they call it. Jesus entering the streets of Jerusalem far from sickness and discomfort. In effect, the complete opposite. People laying down palm branches as He comes riding into town on a donkey. He's being treated like a king.

Those are the days we prefer. Everything lined up perfectly, going as planned. Celebrations. Parties. The rent is paid. The power still on. Maybe even a promotion. The kids' report cards have great marks. A weekend getaway just around the corner.

But you see, Jesus knew Friday was coming. We call it Good Friday. But it was far from good for those standing by who had truly cherished His friendship and committed their lives to following Him.

Later in the week He would be wrongfully accused, arrested, beaten, and crucified. Before His arrest, He would pray, "If there be any way, let this cup pass from Me!" He understood the suffering that would soon be upon Him.

Not the suffering of some virus like the flu or chicken pox. Not the suffering of smashing His finger with a hammer on His latest carpentry project. Not the suffering of cancer or a terrible auto accident. But the suffering caused by separation from the Father's presence as He bore weight of the world's sins upon His shoulders on the cross.

One of the ways that makes His suffering different than ours is that He suffered well. He embraced the suffering when He concluded His prayer with "Nevertheless, not My will but Your will be done." More importantly than escaping the suffering, as we often attempt to do, He stood in the gap and accomplished God's eternal purposes that required His suffering for your sake and mine.

While hanging on the cross, instead of blaming others for false accusations or calling out judgment for their evil deeds, He graciously asked the Father to forgive them. His crucifixion was not only the atoning sacrifice for sins but it became the catalyst for reconciliation into the family of God.

You and I would do well to see the example of Christ as an opportunity to learn to suffer well. To embrace the struggle. To let God's hand complete His work in us. To trust that what He's doing will bring about His intended purpose. To ultimately give Him His due glory.

It's normal to become angry, to place blame, to cast judgment, to feel ashamed. Those are real emotions and responses attached to every person's sinful, fallen nature. And living life with others makes these feelings even more real. But suffering well is holding on to a promise beyond the momentary afflictions we face in this life.

In spite of all that seemed to go wrong on Good Friday, Jesus knew something that His followers failed to see; Sunday is coming!

Fight or Flight

I'm a runner.

When talking with people about the weather or sports occasionally the subject of diet and exercise comes up and they make assumptions like, "Oh, you must be in really good shape."

Yes my hairstyle makes me more aerodynamic and yes I have a high metabolism. But if you think I'm cranking out countless miles on a treadmill at the gym, weaving in and out of traffic around town, or dodging trees through the woods, I'm sorry. But you're wrong.

I'm not in great shape but I can definitely play the part. There are other areas that we can all play the part as well. And one area I often try to play the part is relational conflict. When it comes to conflict in relationships we can choose fight or flight.

Remember, I said I was a runner. Not on the steady incline of some machine or the winding trails in the great outdoors. Mainly just from conversations that begin escalating from differing opinions and dodging words that cut deep to the heart.

I'm not the Rocky Balboa of relationships where I stand in there and take the punches looking to hold out for victory in the final round. I'm more like the Usain Bolt of conflict. When conflict arises, I jet.

The real question isn't do we fight or flight; it's, what are we doing to resolve the conflict.

This is for the fighters. Listen. This is for those who want to go the distance. What if you just stand in there and listen? Not contemplating your next move. The next phrase that will set the conversation on edge. No retaliation. No points to be counted. Not looking to see who wins this round. Just listen.

Begin to consider how and why they feel the way they do. Why they see the situation the way they do. What about their past and present circumstances are causing them to respond the way they are. It doesn't mean they're right. It simply means that their words, feelings, and thoughts are valuable. To you.

Then apologize. Perhaps you've stood there before throwing shot after shot with verbal jabs toward your opponent. Now it's time to own your part. Own your mistakes. Your selfish words. The bitterness that's rooted deep down inside that's been leading you to fight. And apologize.

Your offensive weapon of words isn't meant to beat down or crush spirits in this moment. It's meant for restoration. And it begins by choosing to admit your own faults. To apologize. To repent. Will it be easy? Certainly not. But that's the best response for resolving conflict and reconciling your relationships.

And to the runners; forgive and speak the truth. Flight should not be option numero uno. Stand in the gap. Relationships won't grow with gaps. "But you don't know what they've done?" You're right; I don't. But I know what we've all done to ruin the most important relationship we could ever have.

We all have faults. And our primary job is not to point out the speck in others' eyes. It's to remove the log of wrongdoing from our own eyes. Start by forgiving yourself. Sure, their words and actions can cut deeply. But our own internal accusations of ourselves can be just as damaging.

Avoiding conflict or running from the circumstances that simply add more baggage to the emotional suitcase we're carrying will only weigh us down even more. You've guarded against the emotional angst as best you can and now it's your turn. Stop. Forgive. Then, speak the truth. Start with you. Not them. Your attitude. Not theirs. Your hang-ups and bad habits. Not theirs.

Forgiving and speaking the truth keeps us in the fight. When we forgive others we free ourselves and when we speak the truth it provides a stronger bond to endure the next moment of conflict in our future. No more running. No more avoiding the situation. No more refusing to acknowledge the need for forgiveness and truth.

In most instances we have developed conflict management mechanisms to fight or flight by repeatedly choosing one or the other in past experiences. In either case, both require the necessity of change.

For the fighters, listen and apologize. But empty apologies void of true change are worthless. For the flighters, forgive and speak the truth. To remain bitter or never address the real issues by speaking the truth will cause the cycle of unresolved conflict to continue. There must be change. Where conflict is present, may grace and the desire for reconciliation be present all the more.

Disclaimer: While conflict is a natural part of all relationships, please know that abusive relationships are not. This topic in no way condones the emotional or physical abuse of another person. Conflict arises when differing views are shared. Verbal and physical dominance to control or manipulate others in relationships should not be expected or accepted. If you are in an abusive situation please seek professional help or contact local authorities.

Grateful Meter

I hate big cities.

Maybe that's not completely true.

Big cities provide great opportunities for careers and are rich in entertainment. Restaurants, museums, and stadiums. It's a place that's unique to all kinds of diversity shaping culture through fashion and the technology industry.

But I'm a small town guy.

Often what I see in big cities is traffic jams. What I hear is car horns. What I smell is exhaust fumes.

I like driving my 4x4 truck on dirt roads with the windows down. The smell of freshly cut grass in the summer and brush fires in the fall. Trips to the mountains. Or the lake. And wide open fields.

I have found myself driving in circles on downtown city streets looking for a place to park. Wandering around the block for a place to put my rental. And wouldn't you know it? A parking meter. Really! You're gonna charge me to park my car here when I'm about to go and spend who knows how much in these little shops up and down your street.

I have received fines for parking illegally [too close to a fire hydrant apparently] and traveling through the wrong lane at a toll booth on more than one occasion. And the most aggravating part was the car rental company charged me triple, did you hear me, triple, the cost of the fine.

The time on the parking meter expired and I got a fine. And my anger meter exploded.

Ok. So it was my mistake. Wrong lane. Not enough time on the meter. Parking on the curb questionably marked as off limits. But a fine? The rental company charging triple the amount of the fine? Was that really necessary?

And that's how it happens! When the rage meter rises the grateful meter is depleted.

Why are we not grateful?

Pride restrains gratitude. We think we deserve all that we have. We feel entitled to collect our wages. Our hard work has become the beckoning call for all that's good in our lives. We never pause to consider that our riches could simply be a gift from another but rather a collections agency making a return on our investment over time.

Greed restrains gratitude. We simply want more. Contentment isn't in our vocabulary. We can't appreciate or be satisfied with what we currently have because we're certain a higher dose of whatever we're chasing is necessary to gratify our desires.

Impatience restrains gratitude. We not only want more, we want it now. The high pressure demands of having those things we think will satisfy immediately are evidenced by commercials and solicitations all around us everyday. Every moment that unfolds and every memory that's collected is a token that we embezzle or exchange. And our demand to quickly change the channel of our circumstances for more proves our lack of thankfulness for those tokens of gratitude.

Why should we be grateful?

Gratitude leads to forgiveness and healing. We chase possessions, status symbols, and relationships that become poor substitutes for creating an identity that leaves us feeling empty and discontent. Gratitude begins when our lives are measured by the forgiveness of our Creator that constitutes a healing of our soul to find Him as our greatest treasure and joy.

Gratitude leads to freedom. When gratitude is lacking it permeates the feeling of a prison. A cold, dark, lonely cell of our own doing. A place void of others’ attention and affection. Bound up in feelings of loneliness and desperation. But if we're honest, we would much rather experience the feelings associated with charity and compassion in the context of community. And sharing our experiences with others leads to a freedom that's best expressed in deeply woven relationships that provide security and hope.

Gratitude leads to generosity. Giving avenges greed. Hoarding for ourselves the monuments of materialism builds cobwebs in the generosity compartment of our hearts. When we recognize that not all of life's possessions are the result of our hard work but generous gifts from someone else, then, we will begin to embrace the concept of passing it on for the good of others. A grateful heart can be recognized by the loosening of our white-knuckled grip on precious possessions given away for the good of others.

How do we show gratitude?

Say it. It's amazing the number of people who have developed cold-hearted bitterness toward others simply because they never believed they were appreciated. Their actions seemed to go unnoticed or taken for granted. And perhaps all it would have taken was a short phrase like, "I'm thankful for you." Rather than making assumptions that others know how grateful we are for them it's better to leave no doubt and make a concerted effort to let them know.

Share it. Practice the art of gift giving. We often see the task of generosity too overwhelming or unfair to those whom we can't help. I once heard a guy say, "do for one what you wish you could do for everyone." Other times we're afraid that our generosity won't be reciprocated. And that's not generosity at all. Release yourself from the prison of greed. Give without the expectation of return from others knowing that real gratitude is rooted in something [Someone] much more deeply than the human connection we make with gifts and possessions.

It's time to reset the grateful meter. When life becomes more about others than it does about ourselves we will become more inclined to give out of the profound richness of what we've received. Be grateful! And prove your gratitude by thanking others through word and deed!

Annoyed

Who do you know that absolutely annoys the mess out of you?

People on the phone in the supermarket. Fanatics at the sports bar. People always trying to make an appearance. Texting and driving. People who go on social media rants. People who talk too much. Laugh too much. Cry too much. Skinny jeans. Yoga pants. Dads living their dreams through their sons. Moms dressing like their teenage daughters. Those flaunting their wealth of knowledge or cash. The know it all's and the have it all's.

They're just plain annoying.

But there's a good chance that on some occasions we can be the most annoying person in the room as well. Seriously. I make myself so mad. Sometimes I annoy myself. These little quirks that I have. I often think to myself, "Why did I do that? Why did I say that? Why did I think that? Why did I wear that? Why did I go there?"

Do you know what else annoys me? Statements in the Bible. Statements like:

Sin has consequences. Morality doesn't heal heart issues. Forgiveness is costly. Those who find life must lose it. Giving is better than receiving. Humility is preferred over pride. Generosity and greed can't cohabitate. Suffering is inevitable.

These truths are unsettling. They disrupt my lifestyle. It seems like God, the Bible, Jesus wants to interrupt my regularly scheduled program of doing things my own way. Christianity interferes with the god of 'me.' And to be honest, it's annoying.

I want to do things my way. Go where I want. Do what I want. When I want. With whom I want. Without anyone telling me what to do, how to think, or where to be.

But I can't.

Some time ago I read this verse in the Bible, [they were] greatly annoyed because they were teaching the people and proclaiming Jesus (Acts 4:2). For way too much of my life I have been annoyed just like those religious leaders. People carrying out the mission of God while I sat idly by being annoyed by their fanaticism. Watching their lives being poured out for the singular purpose of bringing glory and honor to God.

And through that verse there's been a conviction brought on my life that is driving me toward a greater faith and fearlessness to accomplish His purposes in me.

I, like Paul, have decided to make it my mission to live by this anthem, "I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now liv in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me" (Gal 2:20).

I suppose I will still be annoyed. Annoyed by my own tendencies to shrink back from doing what I know I ought. Giving in to those temptations that simply please myself and feed my flesh. Annoyed by my own sinful habits instead of the habits of others. But with every moment of annoyance I hope I'm brought back to this phrase, "[He] loved me and gave himself for me."