House Divided

"Roll Tide!"

"Beat Bama!"

You see it on car tags. Coffee mugs. Key chains. Front porch banners.

Phrases like "Gators and Dawgs!" "Trojans and Bruins!" "Buckeyes and Wolverines!" "Longhorns and Sooners!"

How did you miss this conversation? You could've had this anywhere. Over lunch. At the gym. On your first date. Marriage counseling.

Most of us are born into it. Others, crazy enough, marry into it.

Some of us are won by the sheer loyalty of the fans around us. It's persuasion at its finest!

Family. Friends. Laughing. Playing. But that one day, that 3rd Saturday in October, is better left alone. Give them space. Maybe a whole other house altogether.

Tomorrow we can be friends but today, today, we fight to the death!

Before every game we hear the national anthem. Some standing. Some kneeling. All listening. Then cheering. And the game begins. In the trenches. Between the hedges. And for a moment our patriotism is put on hold as we place our lock, stock, and barrel of allegiance on our team.

We can befriend strangers in the stadiums, tailgates, and bars so long as they root for our favorite team. And create enemies out of allies for anyone sporting opposing teams' jerseys on game day.

This division with others can become brutal though. What begins as a joke or small jabs at someone else because their team lost or their coach was fired begins to create irritating tension.

It's incredible to think how united or divided we can become by the entertainment of watching guys running and throwing a ball around the field. And the attitudes created on Saturday night that carry over into Sunday conversations at lunch.

It's a thing of worship, really. Those coaches, players, stadiums, mascots, our alma mater, have been placed on a pedestal of praise. Or perhaps even lamenting in sackcloth and ashes.

Worship is a war zone. Pledges like "this is our house," "our year," "next year" come bellowing out of painted faces like Mel Gibson in Braveheart.

And here I find this internal struggle woven deep into my own soul; a house divided.

Here's the struggle. I do things I don't wanna do and neglect doing things I know I ought to do. That's a paraphrase of Paul's struggle in his letter to the Romans. But it's true for me too.

This body of mine is lugging around thoughts, perceptions, and predispositions that have been shaped by circumstances and conversations since childhood. These small cartoon character-like figurines sitting on my shoulders whispering in my ear, "do this" or "do that."

This war for my affection is manifesting itself as a form of worship in my soul.

It's a craving to feed my flesh or my faith. This predisposition to figure things out on my own, to be good enough, to hide the less than stellar parts of who I am. Or the alternative; to admit that I don't have it figured out, I'll never be good enough on my own, and there's One who already knows every part of my being and loves me anyway.

I don't want to be a house divided. I don't want this temple of a body to continually battle between good and evil, but unfortunately, I was born this way. "Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love" the songwriter penned.

The good news is as long as I'm fighting there's still hope. There's hope to overcome the tactics of the enemy. To overcome obstacles standing in the way. And overcoming the struggle strengthens my devotion. My obsession. My passion.

Everyday I must suit up for battle. To beat the enemy into the ground. To beat my flesh to death. And every win allows my heart to enjoy the life I was meant to live; a life of freedom found only in the victory of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!

So today, today, we fight to the death! We put to death every tendency that is trying to destroy this temple, this house, from representing team Jesus!

A Black Eye in Sports

Do you know what's the best thing about being hit in the face with a baseball bat?

Nothing! Who in the world could find good in that?

I was a teenager and it was the week before school. My neighbor and I were shooting basketball in the driveway. Breaking ankles. Dropping dimes. Making buckets.

Then somebody had the brilliant idea, "Hey, hit the basketball with this baseball bat!"

I should've remembered something from science class that said "for every action there is an opposite and equal reaction." Newton was brilliant! And as quickly as my bat struck that basketball it ricocheted back against my face. And did it ever hurt my face. And my ego!

How would you like to show up on the first day of school with a black eye and a humiliating story like that to make it even worse? Thank goodness there wasn't YouTube, Facebook, or SnapChat!

The only bright spot that day, and really for the next week, was the shiner around my eye.

We all have stories like that. Some funny. Others not so much. But stories, nonetheless, that we're constantly having to choose between pressing play or the eject button of our mind.

Abandoned. Ashamed. Betrayed. Cancer. Death. Desperate. Divorce. Finances. Grief. Guilt. Heartache. Hunger. Loss. Misunderstood. Poverty. Self-esteem. Suffering. Tragedy. Unwanted. And the list goes on.

We all have stories we wish we could change or wish would've never happened. And for some reason we feel like our experiences are unique and no one else struggles like we do. So we blame others for how we're feeling or hide in fear of being found out.

But we must learn to own our experiences without being defined by them. To realize we all struggle and we can actually learn from our past experiences and share in the process of moving forward when we're honest with others.

Looking back on that dreadful baseball bat experience I've come to realize this; I can relate, on some level, to everyone who's been hit with a baseball bat. I know it may sound silly but we have a common shared experience.

Some 2,000 years ago a man by the name of Jesus comes onto the stage. His incarnation had been forecasted for centuries. And now the time had come. A king was coming onto the stage of human history!

The people of Israel had been waiting and they were ready for justice to be served, their land to be preserved, and their journey to political, religious, and economic prominence to be restored. But what a twist in the anticipated storyline of a coming kingdom. No palace. No servants. No royal festivities. Talk about a major letdown!

He was born in a stable and placed in a feed trough so He understood poverty. He was questioned by His own family when they left Him in the city. He was in the wilderness and became hungry. He spoke of being homeless. He was surrounded by sick people. One of His best friends died.

He was called into question about paying taxes. He was criticized for having dinner with tax collectors. He was wrongfully accused by the religious and political authorities. He was stripped of his clothes and publicly humiliated. He was abandoned by his friends. He was mocked, beaten, and crucified.

His name; God with us. Jesus came. Why? To eliminate every excuse. He became like us, clothed in humanity, to feel, to think, to experience all the toils of this world. To have empathy for the world He loves.

God is not a god who doesn't understand. He completely understands. He humbled himself and came to this earth. He was tempted in every way just as we are. And He came out on the other side; blameless. In essence, He can, on some level, relate to every struggle we have ever experienced.

If He can predict His suffering, death, and resurrection then my confidence remains high that He will keep this promise; I will be with you. He will not abandon us. I really believe this; He's closer than you think. And you can trust Him!

Irrevocable

Have you ever had your driver's license suspended?

Just wondering...

I suppose if you're a person whose schedule requires you to drive a vehicle from here to there, then, having your license revoked would create quite a hassle.

At which point you would have a significant decision to make: choose to break the law or be at the mercy of the next available Uber?

Isn't that kind of the way the world works? At any given moment in time we can be handed a title, a position, a responsibility, even a gift and in a matter of seconds it can all be taken away...

Revoked!

I remember years ago setting in front of the computer at the DMV successfully completing the test for my driving permit. I was a real licensed driver. Under close supervision, of course, but a licensed driver nonetheless.

A year later, sitting behind the wheel, ready to show the world my skills, I parallel parked my mom's mini van like a boss. [Actually, it may not have been a mini van.]

I was rocking this driving thing turn after turn. Until...

Until the attendant said, "Did you notice that sign?" "Sign?" I guess not. But I should have. The big white sign with black letters that said, "NO TURN ON RED."

I didn't break the speed limit. I didn't change lanes without a signal. I didn't run a stop sign.

But I made one fatal mistake. After looking both ways multiple times, I forgot to look up. And it cost me dearly. I was a mere 200 feet from the finish line only to hear her say, "I'm sorry. You will not be able to receive your license today."

Denied.

Is it any wonder why so many people walk through life the way they do? Looking for land mines and waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under their feet.

Why?

Because the thought of revocation is frightening. Rejection is painful and sometimes too difficult to handle. To be denied becomes a form of brutality to our souls.

There was a time when life's circumstances had placed all odds against my favor. I looked up and felt abandoned. I looked within and felt so empty. I looked around and it seemed like the people that mattered were busy and preoccupied. And I began to question all that I had ever known.

We're convinced that nothing is permanent. That nothing can last a lifetime. That jobs will be lost. Promises will be broken. Our greatest treasures will lose their value. That even the good gifts of life can be taken back.

And yet I'm supposed to believe some anomaly that there is this one person making this one promise that I can take to the bank. Yeah right! Why should I believe that? If everything and everybody in the world has the capacity to fail me, why should I trust anyone?

And yet there's this one phrase tucked away in a letter written by this rebel, a murderer, after his life had been transformed by the God of the universe, "the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable."

That what this God says and what this God gives cannot be taken back. That's incredible! God is making irreversible promises to His people and no form of evil, not even our own selfish desires, can thwart His inscrutable ways.

There is no question that God placed an undeniable call on my life. And that call has been more clear than any word ever spoken over me. More than my parents' words. My teachers' words. My coaches' words. More than any word meant for pain.

What God established before the foundation of the world will never been shaken. The word that brought light out of darkness and everything from nothingness is the same word that has spoke truth over you and me. How incredible is that? His word, His calling, is irrevocable!

What Did He Just Say?

This past weekend I said something that was alarming. Even to me.

The introduction of my speech included the use of an "F" word from a childhood memory. Certainly there were gasps. People stunned with bewildered looks on stoic faces. While others sheepishly grinned. But not for reasons you would think.

In an effort to garner the attention of my audience I had stooped to a level of unprecedented depths. I said the word "fart" in church. And as a 10 year old boy in the home of my best friend I had carelessly used this "obscene gesture" to describe the unpleasant disdain of my friend's ill-timed shenanigans.

But this was not the alarming statement of my speech.

My sermon had focused on some obscene "F" words that prevent us from accomplishing and fulfilling our God-given calling in life. Words and phrases like "I'm fine" and fear and failure.

I expressed these sentiments as casual thoughts and attitudes that rob us from experiencing life to the full. To say "I'm fine" keeps casual conversations at bay from peering into the depths of our soul. It will not allow for honesty and vulnerability to shape our attitudes and actions. Fear frustrates and paralyzes us from accomplishing even greater endeavors than our resume already includes. Failure convinces us that we are the sum of our past mistakes instead of believing in second chances.

And then I shared what I believe can be life-altering thoughts to depose these gestures that keep us bound captive from experiencing God's best for our lives.

Forgiveness, faith, and freedom.

When we recognize that we've been forgiven we can choose to embrace and extend that forgiveness to create a dynamic shift in the way we see ourselves and others around us. When our faith is renewed it allows trust to take root, not in our strengths and abilities, but in the eternal presence and power of God to prevail. And the freedom we now have in Christ begins to release the chains and bondage of sin in our lives. To see ourselves as sons and daughters of God for that's who we are.

And here was the alarming illustration that is a constant battle and a constant frustration even in my own life.

Remember, the children of Israel? God sent Moses to be their deliverer from Egypt. They crossed the Red Sea and the Egyptian army was drowned. And God's people were free.

But do you remember their response to Moses in the desert? "You brought us out here to die! It would have been better for us to stay in Egypt!"

Are you serious? It would have been better to be in bondage and captivity and under the harsh rule of Pharaoh than to be free among God's people?

Lest we be too harsh we must remember that our hearts are just as sin-stricken as theirs. We oftentimes prefer the known to the unknown. The familiar rather than the unfamiliar. Even though Egpyt is more costly than the wilderness we still prefer bondage over freedom. Why? This battle that's raging in our minds blankets these "F" words: fine, fear, failure, forgiveness, faith, and freedom and we're constantly having to choose between Egypt and the wilderness.

Conforming to the patterns of this world will keep us confined to Egypt's landscape of captivity but being transformed by the renewing of our minds will lead us precisely toward God's will for our lives be it the wilderness or beyond.

Here's my dilemma: Egpyt or the wilderness? Conform or be transformed?  Fine or forgiven? Fear or faith? Failure or free? Slave or son? Whatever course God is establishing for my life, that's the path I want to take. The journey that places all my trust and confidence in Him. Because He's good.

Can I Really Trust You?

My son and I recently spent the day at Stone Mountain, the world's largest exposed piece of granite, riding the Skyride and hiking down the steep western border.

There are also smaller chunks of granite around the park that made for great places to run, jump, and play hide-and-seek.

As my son's courage continued to grow, I told him to jump off the rocks into my arms. "I'll catch you! Just jump! You can trust me!" And as he hesitated and considered all the possible outcomes he said, "Can I really trust you?"

I'm his dad. There's nothing more important to me than loving and protecting and providing for my son. And he's going to ask if he can trust me?

But how often are we guilty of asking the same question?

Can I really trust you?

Trust is a "firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something."

Because we've been let down by others' unreliability we find ourselves holding loosely in our minds any real belief that we can trust them. Our hopes have been stripped from the firm grasp of placing our lives, our emotions, our future in their hands.

Broken trust can leave us basking in the rays of relational conflict. Where we find ourselves drowning in the tears of misplaced trust. Strangling on the words of broken promises. Carrying the bags of betrayal to the next street corner of frustration and insecurity.

And then people want to come offer their opinions and advice. "You have every right to be upset. You don't need them. Their time's coming. Forget them. Take some time away."

Even the religious crowd wants to chime in. "Well, you know everything happens for a reason. God is working all things together for good. Vengeance is Mine thus saith the Lord."  

But when someone's trust has been violated they don't necessarily need our high and lofty opinions. They don't even really need our coffee cup verses from the Bible. What they need, what I needed, is someone to be present. Someone to be remain faithful. Someone they can trust.

My son jumped, not because I told him to jump, but because he quickly replayed in his mind all the times I had been there before. He asked if he could trust me but he already knew the answer. He knew I would catch him!

Remember, I said that my priority was to love and protect and provide for my son. I'm His father. And my Father, perhaps your Father, is doing the same for me. He's loving and protecting and providing for me. He's building my trust in Him.

Spurgeon once spoke these words, "God is too good to be unkind and He is too wise to be mistaken. And when we cannot trace His hand, we must trust His heart.”

I may not always see the way He sees but I'm learning to trust Him anyway. Why? Even though His ways and thoughts are higher, He's always been present and faithful. He's never forsaken me. He's never abandoned me. He's never let me down on one single promise. He's a good good Father!

Step, Swing, Squish

"Step, Swing, Squish!"

This is the phrase I repeatedly tell my son before hitting whiffle balls in our back yard, practice balls off the tee, or baseballs in a game.

No, I'm not an MLB scout or the hitting coach for a travel ball team. I'm just a dad who hopes his sticky statement for hitting a baseball works.

So, what's with this silly phrase, you ask? It's a reminder that hitting the ball is not about aimlessly swinging as hard as you can to hit a ball in motion; rather, it's a combination of timing and technique.

Obviously any expert or even an amateur who's spent 10 minutes watching YouTube could critique my hitting lesson with ease. But the point I'm trying to make for my seven year old son is it's more than meets the eye; it's more than just swinging the bat.

Hitting practice balls off a tee is monotonous. Boring. Not much fun. But there's something beneath the surface that's being developed with every proper swing. And the discipline to keep swinging and refusing to lose focus is creating an incredible potential that will not be realized until the game is on the line.

Littering the yard with a bucket full of whiffle balls is fun but it doesn't produce any kind of measurable results for winning a game. So we have to be creative. Alternate sides of the field where the ball must land. Run the bases on every third swing. Get your granddad out here in the yard and chase you around the bases. Make it fun.

But baseball is a just few hours a week for several months out of the year. Remember, my son's only seven. We're not professionals. He's not being paid to play. In fact, we're shelling out pennies from our pockets this season.

So, what do we do with all those other hours, days, and months? We step, swing, and squish.

My son is more than a ball player. He's a scientist who loves to investigate and experiment. He's an artist who loves to be creative and use his imagination. He's a friend who loves conversations and making memories with others. He's my son, watching and imitating what his daddy is doing!

Stepping means we aren't standing still. Faith is an important part of our lives and we want to see each day as an opportunity to grow by taking steps of faith. Swinging means we will take risks. We won't be paralyzed by fear. Squishing means that we will drown out negativity and evil, and choose to lean in to opportunities to encourage one another.

My goal as a parent is to teach my son the fundamental truths of living a life of faith. No, I'm not perfect. No, I don't have it all figured out. No, I won't get it right every single time. In fact, my batting average as a parent is no doubt less than stellar. But we will keep stepping, swinging, squishing!

We will keep leaning in to hear the voice of our Creator, who is marking out a path toward a life of faith and righteousness. We will keep taking risks we believe He's calling us to take knowing that He will not abandon or fail us. We will keep drowning out the world's schemes to distract us from being who we are in Him. Our confidence will come from the identity that He's placed on us as His children. We will win! In fact, we have already won!

I promise

I promise.

Words everyone longs to hear and yet oftentimes go forsaken in the midst of life unfolding in the most unlikely ways. All the while its those words that can still be found ringing in the ears of the betrayed and broken.

To find her dressed in white gleaming on her special day. Only to find her picking up the shattered pieces of what might have been. Replaying the memory of being down on bended knee in eager anticipation of hearing her say "Yes" has now been replaced with him on bended knee with the sickened feeling of wondering where to turn.

Whether it's the uncharitable disunity of a marriage, the severed ties of a parent and child, or the best of friends placing years of memories on the chopping block of petty selfish behavior, people have a way of choosing to disrupt years of stability with a few short moments of nonsensical behavior.

I recently had a conversation with a lady who felt like her life was on the brink of relational despair. While I didn't feel I had the words to console or encourage her in the moment, I couldn't shake the circumstances from my mind for several days before eventually tapping into my own experiences and suggesting some thoughts that began to help me deal with my own personal struggles.

Own your part and seek forgiveness. Relationships are developed between two less than stellar individuals who will always carry a fair share of responsibility for the direction of their relationship. And any time tension arises between those individuals it's important that they both own their contribution to the waves of that tension. Relationships have a greater chance to be reconciled when the offender recognizes the offense, chooses to change, and seeks the others' forgiveness to begin building trust again.

Extend forgiveness and trust God to heal you both. Individuals in relationships inevitably will offend the other. Humans are human. Imperfect. With flaws. They think differently. See differently. Just different. Incomplete. So, the best we can hope for is to believe that there's still work to be done. And that work comes in the form of healing. Bandaging the wounds of relationships with forgiveness and grace over long periods of time. And it's deeper than self help or the power of the mind. It really only comes in the form of someone greater stepping in to intervene and mediate our situation from the scope of eternity.

Filter others' advice and counsel. It's easy to get wrapped up emotionally in the appeals of others' facts, opinions, or nonsensical advice. What we need most in moments of broken relationships is for people to speak the truth in love. Those leading us to make wise decisions. Those more interested in our growing as a person than our ability to shoot darts of bitter venom at the offender.

Speak less. The more we speak when we're hurt the more likely we will begin to rationalize or justify our position to play the victim or execute judgment on those who've brought pain into our lives. Sharing our feelings and admitting our pain can be helpful in the healing process but we must careful with what is being poured out on paper, social media, and into the laps of those who will listen. Our hearts are fragile and certainly vulnerable to be shaped by the poison of bitterness, and what's locked up inside will eventually be spewed out when the lid on our mouths is released.

Spend more time alone with God. Perhaps the most profound notion we can take is simply look to find rest for our weary circumstances through being still. Thoughts running hundreds of miles per hour in our heads, asking questions like "what if" or "why" can be exhausting. And while we often fail to find answers to such questions I really believe there is a purpose in the pain. Our view of God is often blurred by our self-righteous acts and achievements. But it's in moments of devastation that an opportunity to see Him more clearly becomes possible. And He wants to create a change in us that otherwise may not be possible.

While I know this doesn't answer every question for the difficult circumstances in our lives nor does it bring healing to every fractured relationship, it does give a frame of reference for every individual seeking to find a journey toward healing.

I promise. These words invoke an overwhelming amount of trust or skepticism depending on our experiences with those who have such a claim. Here's what I believe, "every promise is Yes in Christ Jesus." He is doing a work in us that is incredibly life changing for our good and His glory!

I'm Addicted To...

"Addicted to what?" you ask.

I know this may sound trivial or contemplative. Normal or superficial. But...

I'm addicted to me. By that, I mean I'm addicted to pride and selfishness. The only one in the room. At least, the only one that matters. As if everybody else in the room, the universe for that matter, exists merely to appease my own self-interests. I manage low risk opportunities against sub-par competition to inflate my own stats and ego.

I'm addicted to you. Not you, really. But your approval. Every step I take and every word I speak is carefully calculated in search of your acceptance. You matter. Your opinion matters. But the truth is, because I'm addicted to me, your opinion only matters if it improves my position by lobbying my own self-worth.

I'm addicted to love. Maybe it's more like lust. Not lust like "50 Shades of Grey" but lust like I'm constantly wanting things that I cannot have or should not want. In reality they're not even necessary or really all that satisfying in the end. It seems as though I can't be content with the simplicity of having enough but I'm constantly reaching for just a little more.

I'm addicted to security. Actually, I'm afraid of being alone. I fear rejection; not having what it takes to measure up to someone's expectations. I stay close to the shore of the familiar and cling tightly to the known. Too often, I'm willing to concede the potential of my future for the pain and frustration of my past just because its familiar.

How will I ever overcome the strongholds of my addictions?

"Lay aside every sin and weight that so easily entangles us." It's easier said than done but sometimes I'm fine to simply let the weight of my addictions lay heavy on my heart rather than deal with the pressure of trying to change.

"Come to Me all who are weary and I will give you rest." The brutality of empty promises have kept me guarded from trusting others. So instead of making myself vulnerable to trust someone to leverage their compassion I find myself striving, working, toiling to become the means to my own end.

Here's the word I need today; Jesus is making a promise. He's inviting me to hand Him my addictions, burdens, and weights in exchange for His rest, peace, joy, freedom.

How about you? The road to freedom begins with handing over the object holding you in bondage; yourself!

Wake Up

In my dreams I'm 6 foot 4 inches, I'm dating a super model, and I own a summer house in Fiji. But it always seems that the slightest noise or a single beam of light awakens me at just the moment it couldn't possibly be better. 

Then there are those moments in my sleep when nightmares of being suspended in the air with no measure of ground in sight or being squeezed between two walls feeling pressure from every direction that I'm thankful to be awakened at any time of the night. 

Perhaps the pendulum that swings from one extreme to the other; from sweet dreams and wishful thinking to night terrors and extreme misfortune, would be best suited to simply find a balance of some happy medium.

Our lives are chock full of happy and sad moments; the blessings of a loving God and the pain of a world full of hate. It seems our sensational views are always circumventing our circumstances to say "life couldn't be any better" or "life couldn't be any worse."

Life often seems to leave us in a state of sponsored pride or pity; feeling like I'm something more or less than who I really am. We've either sunken too deep in our flaws to be helped or we've reach some apex of perfection to relinquish anyone's aid.

We need to admit that we are a bad and sinful people in need of a good and loving Father. A father who never sleeps. A father who will not neglect or abandon his kids. A father who is generous and responsible. A father who is constant and committed. A father who will be there when we wake up!

You can't save yourself. You can't be your own master. And you make a terrible god. Seriously, no amount of effort, money, work, or time can generate an acceptable version of you before God. But He made a way for you to become a presentable candidate for His family through the right-ness of His son. All you have to do is be awakened from this sleep, this death of a sin-stained life, and enter into the light and life of eternal bliss found only in the payment and promise of His son.

Wake up! This is not a dream! Realize that the dreams and nightmares you think are defining your current reality is incomparable to the identity being given to you by the One nudging your soul to awake. Your purpose, your mission is meant for more than dreaming; it's meant to live in an all-out pursuit of the One bringing those dreams to life!

Come and See

Have you ever heard a story that sounded too good to be true?

Some time ago I spoke with a lady who began telling her story, and as she continued to speak I couldn't believe how eerily similar yet wildly unbelievable it sounded.

Just a small town girl in a small town world her Friday nights were filled with cheers from the sidelines of her favorite football team. Weekends with friends. Sundays splashed with church services and family dinners.

But entering adulthood, life had taken her on the ride of her life. Big cities, prestigious universities, and a network of friends that was woven into one of the country's most historically successful football programs.

With diploma in hand, the world was calling her name. Little did she know what lay on the other side of her college experience; entering the hospitality division of a major sports franchise. Meeting successful people labeled among the Who's Who in sports and entertainment.

But the road didn't stop there. Next stop, one of the world's most famously successful retail corporations. And it's here that she partnered with others to help the company make strides in online operations.

In a world prone to arrogance, she carefully crafted her words with a tone of sincere humility. And I was speechless. Then, I finally asked if I could come witness her latest venture. Her response, "Sure, come visit and I'll show you around!"

For a story that sounded so incredible it wasn't untouchable. She invited me into a space of extraordinary otherwise known as her ordinary life. In essence, she was saying "Come and see!"

When Jesus comes on the scene, one of his disciples-to-be actually poses this question, "Can anything good come from Nazareth?" And the only words Philip could seem to muster were, "Come and see!"

When Jesus' disciples return from town to witness His encounter with the woman at the well they pose the question, "Why are you talking to her?" Meanwhile the woman had made her way back to town with this announcement, "Come and see!"

When hearing of His friend Lazarus's sickness Jesus delays His arrival for two more days. Then Lazarus dies. But upon seeing his sister weeping Jesus asked where Lazarus had been buried. "Come and see!"

On the Sunday morning following the crucifixion, Mary approaches the tomb of Jesus. Frantic, I'm sure, by the appearance of an angelic being, he reassured her of Jesus' resurrection with the words, "Come and see!"

The events of Easter weekend may appear unbelievable but the details are certainly undeniable. What appears to be so incredible isn't untouchable. And we've been invited onto the stage to witness the greatest escape the world has ever known. And the resurrection reverberates through all creation, "Come and see!"

Christ accomplishes more than anyone could imagine in the short span of his death and resurrection. Yet, our response is invaluable to this pretense; His life for mine.

To come and see sounds so attractive. But think of the enviable position of Thomas to have his doubts crushed when Jesus bids him to come and touch; to witness more than the attraction of others' experiences. To lay to rest all amounts of skepticism by the first-hand proof of His resurrection.

And yet way too many of us are content to only have a glimpse of the immeasurable greatness of God from a distance. He is calling us to so much more. Bonhoeffer says, "The cross is not the terrible end to an otherwise god-fearing happy life, but it meets us at the beginning of our communion with Christ. When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die."

"Come and die!"

The cross is necessary. Death is necessary. But it does not end with his death. In fact, His death initiated a transaction toward life for us in Him. And now, through His death and resurrection, we can truly live in Christ.

This life leads to death if all we do is strive for all its trinkets and toys. To crucify the passions and lusts of this world and to find the death and resurrection of Christ a joyous occasion will bring life insurmountable.

May our hearts meditate on these words to stir in us a greater affection for God's Son Jesus Christ:

Oh the wonderful Cross, oh the wonderful Cross
Bids me come and die and find that I may truly live
Oh the wonderful Cross, oh the wonderful Cross
All who gather here by grace, draw near and bless Your name 
--The Wonderful Cross by Chris Tomlin