Galilee Mornings

In the gospel of John
Jesus says, “Let's have breakfast.”
And he has a grill and he has the fish and he has the bread
And his old friends sit down around a campfire ring
on a Galilee beach side morning
and they talk.
Relational love.
In between the “pass the butter”
they probably laugh some
and they probably recall moments,
I am sure they have questions
they long to ask,
some do, but they still wonder.
In these moments, though,
the doubting is gone.

The dear disciples,
on fire for Christ
had already heard of his return.
Some had even already seen
nails in palms, the risen man.
And yet, they were awake that night-
headed out to fish.
Casting nets on the wrong side,
-again-
leaving Godly callings
to head back to empty nets
and midnight wanderings
in a sea seemingly void of fish.

At the very hour that God looks down
and longs for these men
to come back to shore,
Christ chuckles, and calls out -
knowing full well
their boats were anchored to seaweed, fears, old sins and insecurities,
He calls out an old memory
and suggests they try the right side of the boat instead.

This is Peter's do over.
And if he gets one, so do you.
So do I.
Christ returns
for relational love
and sets up at our campsite
with the food and words we need to hear.
The shame and pain we bring with us
packed in our sacks, our sins we try to keep-
He unloads over breakfast.
Peter's denial.
The roosters mocking crow-call.
Christ replaces as a dove song.

For our failures
cannot frustrate God's plan.
He stands outside of time.
He has beach-side breakfast mornings
planned months and years ahead.

Relational love.
He wants to feed us.
He wants to laugh and hug us-
to say that my great sin
is small
compared to his great love.

Sweet God of second chances.
Thank you for loving me enough
to make me breakfast.

Giving to God

So, I regularly wake up and consider the importance of giving God my best. I mean I pray and study religiously so that I can give God more. My heart is right. But my stupid mind keeps getting in my way - i am not even sure exactly what it is getting in the way "of". Is it my serving God, or pleasing God, or just simply my effectiveness and my joy? See what I mean? My mind complicates things.

Anyway, I have been wanting to give God my best and I have made my service a pride thing. I would wake up and say, "I am so thankful for my iphone because it helps me stay focused and organized as a mom." I really thought that a lot of people want things, but I was different. I needed that iphone because it was a tool to help me do all the things the Lord gives me to do. I justified that iphone because I wanted it.

Now, my iphone has been misplaced,I am forced to say oh well. Part of me wants to say, "Oh well, I hope I never get another phone again. I've learned to value my time differently and that things are never really mine, but God's." But the other me just wishes wholeheartedly that I wasn't so stupid and forgetful. I'd just say careless, but I really do care. I am apparently incapable of holding onto things. Luckily I hold onto people quite well.

This morning, then, when I awoke to give God my all, I realized maybe I have been doing it all wrong. Instead of pridefully rising to try and give him everything, maybe I should be bowing and giving him my humility. Today, I do not pray that he would use my good works and selfless deeds to further his kingdom. Today I pray that he could use my mess and insufficiency. May he use my mistakes to bring his glory. And that thought, to me, is beautiful. Then he truly will get the glory. The thought gives me peace because maybe I have been cheating God with my praise. I have a wonderful family, and a beautiful home, and a masters degree. It is so easy to fall into the trap of thinking that I achieved this. But these are all gifts.

Let me be done with giving you amazing things with the faulty thought that you need my help. Instead, let me give you my humble brokenness and watch you use that for your glory.

May the Righteous be Glad and Rejoice Before God

Five years old has been a year of whining. My girls turn six this week and my greatest praise is that they are learning to be content. They ask less often for ice cream for breakfast and they fuss less when it is time for bed. They are learning, I guess, that although there is a world of opportunity out there and sparkly, sugary things to grab - sometimes mom just knows best. They takee me at my word now with less dejection. And by any means it is not always. Just yesterday we cried for a bike ride in the middle of a thunderstorm, but we are getting there and I see progress. And I cannot help but think, Praise God! They are finally learning the obvious!

But when I turn in my devotions, and I see Israelites acting like children - I remember I too am called a child of God. And I wonder- am I learning to believe the obvious? If I know that I know that God is good and has great plans for me, why do I so persist in mine? The last few weeks I have been quiet inside, wonderig if my career path is chosen for me. Really, though, I have been begging for a new thing to do. I have not been content before the Lord - and if I am not even content, then how can I rejoice and praise him? And how will others know and yearn for him - not from my example.

So today I turn back and say this prayer. May the righteous be glad and rejoice before God (Psalm 68:3). He daily bears our burdens. Let not my restlessness be a burden to Him.

Amendment: "On Holiness and Schweitzer"

In an earlier post I said that we need to remember God's holiness, and Schweitzer says almost the exact same thing - only with much academic brillance - when he speaks of how the "heroic"ness of Jesus is fading. When I said - maybe we shoudln't wear jeans to church - I meant that "We must be forced to lay our faces in the dust, without daring even to wish to understand his nature." I meant that we need to see him as a hero that stands so far in awe above us that we cannot even bow without begging permission.

He is everywhere I am. And I pray he keeps throwing words at me.

Homing Device?

I recently read a book in which a character confided she secretly believed that books were created with some kind of homing device so that they get into the hands of the reader who is meant to hear those particular words. I immediatley nodded and agreed with the character - for how many times have I read a line from a book and then felt like the author had been listening in on me and my life and my dreams. Maybe it just means I am not so unique - but I more honeslty believe that somehow the book floated down to me from some geneological line that was menat to be.

Just tonight I grabbed a book to read that I have no idea why I even bought. It was on sale, next to one my friend was buying. Truly, I had hemmed and hawed about five other books that I know I WANT to buy - and they were even cheaper but for some reason I put them all back on the shelf. Then, this book book of Essential Writings by Albert Schweitzer (of whom I had scarcely heard)found its way into my hands and I took it home. I opened it this evening (bending the cover for the very first time)- to the table of contents, just to see if any essays would be interesting. And there it was: an entire chapter on Africa. and I had to look up and remember the words about the homing device. Because why oh why does everything I do come back to this continent? Only now, I ammend this homing device theory and attribute it all to God. Dropping words from heaven, he finds me.

After reading Chapter One of Schweitzer:
Dropping words form Heaven,
He tells me
a man can live what he believes.

We must do "something small in the spirit of Jesus"
Not something big
in our own weak spirit.

Such a contrary thing
and yet so mistakably similiar
often in our dreams.

I pray for quiet moments
to feel the difference.

On Holiness

Lately I have been reading a lot of books that sound the same. They talk of the church and how she needs to change or how she has changed. They talk of knowing God and living like you do. All about changing sutffy-Christian-ness into a real religion. And they are all beautiful. Miller. Bell. Groeschel. These new voices that speak of an old God are illuminating. Like they offer a new yoke of Christ to fall under. But I got to thinking when I opened yet another book that begged me to remember that I am okay. Because I get that Christ has saved me. I do. But I think we might need a few shots of humility to go along with this “okay”ness. I mean, the theme of these voices certainly urges me into God's presence and not just me but everyone. But once we are ushered in, I think we need to be careful not to embrace the sacred with our sloven-ness. God told Moses to stop and not come any closer when he boldly stepped toward the burning bush. When ground is holy, we can't go treading anywhere we'd like, we have to stop and just listen. I think lately we are being urged to run to our Lord, as father and friend, but that we are forgetting his holiness.

Let me slow down because I don't want to be misunderstood. Not enough people have Christ. Period. The world is dying and we need to know our savior. Christ is our only hope, not for death, but for life. That was a misdirection I faced when I met him. People told me – good people. God's people – that I needed Him so that when I died I would be in heaven. Yes, the old fire insurance metaphor – but it works well. Christ became, essentially, a part of my death plan. I guess he was to be an Exit story so that when others came to mourn me they would be okay. They needed to be able to say, at least she is in a better place. Have you ever heard people talk about a deceased one as if he was in hell? We can't fathom that. We'd prefer not to. But in reality, some people are. Honestly, most people end up in hell.
What an ugly thought. And so we accept that there is a God and there was a Christ. And we become a lucky soul who can sit on a cloud or turn into an angel – and then leave God alone and expect him to leave us alone until we need him (or die).

Until we need him.

I guess I should change my perspective here. It has been safer for me to use the plural first person, but I can't tell anyone else's story...so let me switch this all to me.

I lived like God was on the other side of a cloud. Until I needed him. And then I wanted him to descend into my realm – like Jack's Giant, I wanted him to climb down. I realized though that he wouldn't fit. My world was my size and my problems and my glories were small little sand castles and if God walked into my scene, I knew he would crush the things I had built. It took me a while to realize that the castles he could help me build would be much more worth completing – but I will get to that. First, see that God was too big for me. I was just a kid. I memorized verses, could draw my sword fastest in all my Sunday school class, and I collected badges for doing good. I had a whole sash of them. I was trying to be good. And I was pretty good at being good. I think. But that was all I knew of God. All I could know I guess – I mean, I was a child. It takes time for real relationships to develop. But with time, though, real relationships can sour or become neglected. Like an old marriage, we passed each other (God and I) on Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights. The rest of the week I remembered him fondly, like and old friend from summer camp. Then on Sunday again, I pulled him out of my pocket and loved him as much as I could in the few hours we had together.

But I am getting off track here. I am not intending to explain how I came to be a strong Christian, and if I am honest, most of the time I am not. What I intended to write about here was about how we pocket size our God. He is so mighty and so holy. When we go to him, though, it is so much easier (I think) if we think of him as friend or father. And these are true images of him. But God is more. He is Lord and Redeemer. He is Savior and Prince of Peace. These names suggest royalty. We are Americans, though, so the metaphor loses its weight. We have never been asked to bow down before anything. In Biblical times, though, there was kneeling and kissing of feet. There was grasping of robes and there were curtains that separated the holiness of heaven. Jesus tore the curtain in two with his death, but I am not sure we should be able to stomp all over it. Now we don't need to keep up the pretense of subjects and royal masters because Jesus came as a servant and washed our feet. But, for us Americans, who serve ourselves, it would do us well to remember that humility and becoming the least means to read the Lord with awe. When we worship, we are not singing with a rock band, we are lifting praise to a heavenly father. It is different. Sometimes it will look the same. But it is different.

So, in case we are thinking here that I am way off track – that there is nothing to this theory of mine concerning how we should approach the Lord of all – let us check scripture. Moses. Man of God. Led the people out of Egypt(after much prompting and failed attempts) Moses had to learn this lesson, too. When he heard the Lord call his name, he responded with “Here I am.” He stepped up, bold with self love, and looked for who was calling. There was no humble bow, no prayers or hymns of praise – just a “Yeah, what ya want?” Okay, so if we give him the benefit of the doubt, if we pause and allow him a moment of weakness, saying perhaps he didn't yet know it was the Lord, then he still approaches without humility. There was a burning bush, too. And Moses was walking right up to it. He heard a voice; he saw a bush on fire; he approached it. And God said “WHOA!” NIV has him saying “Do not come any closer. Take off your sandals, for the place you are standing is holy ground.” And here is my long in coming point, Moses forgot to bow, he headed in the direction of the mystery and power, and forgot that there is more at work than he could ever imagine. In his curiosity and in the midst of the God revelation, Moses neglected to see the sacredness of the moment when he was speaking with the Lord. He saw the fire, but he overlooked the glow and radiance until he knew it was the Lord.

I think we do this too often. We go running up to God because we have heard of the prodigal and we know Christ is running up to us. But the son bowed. He stopped in the field and let his father bring him into his courts with safety. We must be received. And we will be without a doubt. But what a small and significant difference there is in how we approach the Lord. Yes, yes we must yell to the world that God is accessible and waiting on all. But let us also proclaim that he is mighty and powerful and a Lord. In Cote D'Ivoire the Nafana people have a leader for each village tribe. There is really not much power afforded to the tribal leader because the country is developed enough to have a president and organized governmental system. In the bush, though, in the outcroppings, there remains the tribal chief position. When villagers see him, they recognizes him. When they sit near him, they lower their stature so that he is above them. He has little power, but they yield and submit their body carriage to reveal respect. In the same way, we ought to be more than willing to change our carriage when we walk with the Lord. I do not mean we shouldn't wear jeans on Sunday, although that is many people's way of revering the Lord. I do not mean we should all wear our Sunday best every time we come into his sanctuary. Jesus' yoke is easy and he says, “Come as you are.” But I do mean that we should think about these things. He is holy. He is royal. He is my King and I humbly want to bow before him.

2011 - Finished reading Velvet Elvis...

"I have seen plenty done in the name of God
that I'm sure God doesn't want anything to do with."

I just finished reading the book Velvet Elvis
and now I am disappointed.

I liked the book.
I liked how the author, Rob Bell,
calls for a new kind of Chrustuan faith
He calls for a new church
where people love and love and love
on this journey
and see that the destination of heaven
is only the kindergarten learning of Christ.

I like that he is a preacher
and one day he got up and just couldn't do it.
He couldn't preach anymore.
I like it even more that he told me this
and that he is preaching again
because God told him it was okay to feel this way.
And I like that many of his sentences
are just fragments
and his paragraphs
are just sentences
it mirrors his philosophy
that we don't have to be
and shouldn't even be
polished to shine for Christ.

I like all this.
But at the end,
I turned the page and was shocked
to find the book was over.
I had expected more.
many pages of footnotes and empty spaces fill the end of this book.
I wanted to just keep going - to keep reading.
In my head I had been having a conversation
and I feel like Mr. bell got up in the middle and walked out
and I am still sitting here
with my mouth open and questions falling out.

Why is the cover black and why is the person falling?
It doesn't look as if the person is falling for Christ
but instead falling into nothingness
I want the redmption moment on the cover
and not the failure.

He said, "It was on [a] trampoline that God started to make more sense."
and so maybe the girl on the cover is bouncing from a trampoline...
if so, the sky should still be bluer.

And I like the title.
But I wanted you to talk about it again
to remind me to keep Jesus out of my basement
like the paintings or renditions of the King
that end up sold on roadsides and then tossed away.
Remind me to keep Him Majestic
all the while personal -
filling the voids and valleys of Earth
and all the while still closely tucked into my pocket.

I wanted to say all this and to keep on thinking
so I was sad when suddenly
it ended.