Being Perfectly Human

Mercy and Sacrifice/Our Boundaries Within/The Pain of Love

2012-02-26T19:03:00.000-06:00

10 And as Jesus reclined at table in the house, behold, many tax collectors and sinners came and were reclining with Jesus and his disciples. 11 And when the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” 12 But when he heard it, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. 13 Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” Matthew 9:10-13, English Standard Version

I've been reading Unclean: Meditations on Purity, Hospitality, and Mortality, by Richard Beck of Abilene Christian University, and he uses verse 13 as a theme throughout the book to demonstrate the conscious (and more often, subconscious) boundaries we have in our minds, and what we do with them. As Beck is an experimental psychologist, and not a theologian, this book addresses issues in the Church from a standpoint of attitudes and actions in missionality, and not as doctrine or dogma.

Using verse 13 of Matthew 9, Beck makes the case that the deeper psychological meaning of "sacrifice" here is not so much about offering sacrifice at the temple as it is about how the Pharisees, and we as Church members today, can sacrifice people to be excluded from the Church due to their status as "sinners" or "unclean." Without an in-depth recap of Beck's argument, I think we can extend his ideas from the Church level to the level of our personal attitudes and relationships.

We all have boundary psychology; we swallow our saliva all day long, yet when we spit it out, it becomes something dirty and offensive. It is outside the boundary of our body. We tend to extend these boundaries to our social and moral lives as well. All through history there are countless examples of these boundaries at levels from the schoolyard to nations. "Cool/Uncool", "Our team/Their team", "Republican/Democrat", we have these distinctions that keep us separated for those that are unlike us. These boundaries can become so exclusive that they cause problems, and can become dangerous, like "Black/White" "American/Communist" and "Aryan/Jew."

The Pharisees had their boundaries of "Clean/Unclean" and "Righteous/Sinner", carefully keeping themselves separated from that which was not considered clean or righteous. We have this in the Church today as "Saved/Sinner", and we can see different levels of this boundary of exclusion in various churches today. "I desire mercy, not sacrifice, for I came not to call the righteous, but sinners”, takes on a deeper meaning when we look at it from this vantage point.

Christ extended the boundary of the of the church of His day, showing the Pharisees that it was more important to show mercy to those considered "unclean" rather than to sacrifice them to being kept away from God. In doing this, He showed us that it isn't the outsider that will contaminate us and take us farther from God, but quite the opposite: that by coming into the Church, the sinner draws near to, and partakes of His cleansing.

That's a lot of food for thought concerning our attitudes in a group, but what does that have to do with personal relationships? Christ showed His love and mercy for us by giving His life for us on the cross. He was concerned with our well-being more than His own. At its deepest, most intimate level, love cares more about the well-being of the other person, rather than our self. Think I'm wrong about that? Show me a loving parent that wouldn't exchange their life and safety for that of their child, or a loving spouse that doesn't beg God to exchange their own life for that of their terminally ill or injured love. That's the agapao of the New Testament Greek.

When it comes to our close personal relationships, it's very easy to lose sight of this, especially when clouded by mixed emotions of pain, fear, and love. We can become distant and withdrawn, or desperately try to cling to the other in order to avoid the pain of loss. In either case, we are displaying sacrifice of the other, rather than mercy. It is what Beck terms a failure of love, not in love itself, but in our ability to understand and practice it.

None of this should be construed to say that I would advocate someone endangering their own or another's physical safety, but for the injuries to our emotions and heart, as Christians, we already have access to the most powerful medicine there is. His love and mercy for us.

"I came not to call the righteous, but sinners"

"Come to me, all those who are weary and heavily laden, and I will give you rest."

"To love Him with all your heart, with all your understanding and with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself is more important than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.”

"The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come.” And let the one who hears say, “Come.” And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price."

His love invites us closer.

His love does not set boundaries, it removes them.

His love does not fear hurt or contamination.

His love cleanses and sanctifies.

His love is to save us, rather than Himself.

His love was given to us with all of His heart, understanding, and strength.

More than anything else, I want to learn to love Him as He loves me. Doing that means that I have to learn to love you as He loves you. That means I have to take down the boundaries of my heart, reach out to touch you, and let you touch me.

In doing that, we risk pain. Whether it is the pain of getting hurt in a relationship, or the pain of grief at seeing another's suffering, the deep practice and meaning of love will have pain with it.

But He has love and mercy to heal us all.

Forty

2012-02-22T06:21:00.001-06:00

Forty days and nights of rain for Noah.

Forty days on top of Mount Sinai for Moses.

Forty years of wandering for the Hebrews.

Forty days and nights of walking to Mount Horeb for Elijah.

Forty days to repent for Nineveh.

Forty days in the wilderness of fasting and temptation for Jesus.

Forty hours in the tomb to bring defeat for death.

Forty days of prayer, reflection, and repentance for us.

I've never before been a part of a Christian tradition that observes Liturgical days concerning Jesus. I've always known about the recurrence of the theme of "Forty" throughout the Bible, but I'd never given much thought to the symbolism of the motif until now.

It's the time of year when things are renewed; birds return, wildflowers bloom, the trees bring their new leaves. The dormant grasses send up new green growth, and rains bring nourishment to the land to sustain it through the heat of Summer. The beauty and splendor of nature abounds.

And for us, forty days to remember Him and His sacrifice for us. Forty days to 'examine our ways, and turn again to the Lord.' Forty days of gratitude for the victory over death He gave us. Forty days to work towards turning belief in to being.

Forty days to look inward while reaching outward, to contemplate and internalize the deeper meaning of what Jesus said to the Pharisees: "But go and learn what this means: 'I DESIRE COMPASSION, AND NOT SACRIFICE,"

May we all be richly blessed today.

My Journey to Christ's Heart (And My Own)

2012-02-21T06:02:00.000-06:00

My earliest memories of Church are from a small Church of Christ in rural NorthEast Texas. When I would spend time at my Grandparents house, my dear Grandmother would take me each Sunday morning to services and Sunday school. When I was very young, I mostly remember the loud, old-time Gospel preaching, and not having an understanding of what The Lord's Supper really was (my cousin and I thought it was mean that they were having a snack in the middle of church service, but wouldn't let us have any! We figured out what it was about after a couple of years, though.) I really had no exposure to any other denominations, and even though I saw their buildings, I had no understanding of doctrinal differences until I was in high school.

We never went to church in my own home as a child, but in my freshman year of high school, my Mother decided we needed to go on Easter Sunday. We went to our local Church of Christ, and I ran into several of my friends there. I wound up going back the next Sunday, and stayed at that church through the rest of high school. We had an active youth group and a good youth minister that wasn't afraid to answer the tough questions that we had about the Bible and its teachings. Once I graduated, though, I simply quit going anymore.

Throughout my twenties and early thirties, I never went to church at all, but started attending another Church of Christ in my mid-thirties, after an invitation from a friend. This was a much smaller congregation than the one I attended in my youth, only about 250 members. The evangelist was dynamic, edifying, and informative, and taught a great in-depth Bible class. I wound up becoming great friends with him (and still am), and his eldest son has been one of my closest friends ever since. I wound up leading singing and prayers, and loved that church, especially since it had the feel of the church that my Grandmother had always taken me to. That feeling wouldn't last, though.

An important detail that I left out previously was that I had gotten divorced a few years before I started attending that church. And, with this being on the fairly conservative side of the Church of Christ, I was relegated to being single the rest of my life there. Not that the doctrine said that, but the attitudes there were such that in the eyes of the eldership and most of the members, getting remarried after a divorce was a sin equal to blasphemy of the Holy Spirit. I was told by one of the elders that if I even started dating someone that I would be subject to disciplinary action. All of that left me with such a distaste for church that I vowed to never set foot in a Church of Christ again, save for a wedding or a funeral.

About a decade passed before I wanted to attend church on a regular basis, and I wound up attending my present church through an act of Providence. My high school choir, and our old director had a reunion after twenty something years, and were given the opportunity to rehearse some of our old songs, and then perform them at the church service the next morning. It was the beginning of my journey to seek Christ's heart. An old friend from high school and I wound up falling in love after that reunion, and she was the first person to ever encourage me to try and feel God's love. This was a completely foreign idea to me, and I thought that I would never be able to have any kind of understanding of that.

Anyway, I began attending the church that hosted our reunion (a Disciples of Christ congregation, with the same basic beliefs as the Church of Christ, as they were formed from the same movement in the early 1800's), and even sang in their choir for a few months. My work schedule was such for a while that it was difficult to stay awake on Sunday morning, so I stopped going for a while. With the help of my great boss, I was able to get my schedule adjusted to where I could attend again (and be able to stay awake!), and get involved in some of the activities.

While the Disciples of Christ and the Church of Christ sprang from the same movement, this church had a completely different feel to it than to what I was accustomed, and some of these things took some getting used to. It was very foreign to me to be at a church service that had women in leadership and preaching roles, as the churches I had previously attended were completely male in any sort of leadership or evangelism. They also follow the Liturgical calendar concerning Christ's birth, death and resurrection, which was different for me, yet very comforting somehow. The thing about this congregation, and of the new co-pastors, that helped bring me to a turning point was the emphasis that was less on belief and obedience and more on loving Christ.

"Love God with all your heart, and love your neighbor as you love yourself." These words of our Lord were merely an intellectual concept in my head until recently. During the Advent season, there were great services building the anticipation of His birth, including Taizé services on Wednesday evenings. I was left with a huge and growing sense of His holiness and my need for His redemption. On Christmas Eve, there was a candlelight service that left me with a huge sense of awe and serenity, yet also with some emptiness. With Christmas falling on a Sunday last year, the regular service the next morning brought fulfillment and completion to the celebration of His birth the previous night.

From all those years ago in my childhood, when I thought that the grown-ups were having a snack, to that Christmas morning, the full meaning of the breaking of the loaf and partaking of the cup in remembrance of Him, made the long journey from my head to my heart. That morning, in the center of the tray that held the fruit of the vine, was one cup with oil that was scented with frankincense and myrrh. We were encouraged to dip our finger in that cup and make a cross on our foreheads. The scent of the gifts given to Him by the magi, the remembrance of the supreme gift He gave to us, they pierced my heart and let out the things that had been keeping me from the change, the metanoeo that took me from believing in Him to falling in love with Him.

After the first of the year, our co-pastor, Mindy, led a class on transformational discipleship. Even though I didn't do the work as well as I would have liked, the studies and exercises brought me to where I came to love Him, as well as feel and understand His love for me. In recent weeks, Jason Gray's beautiful song, "More Like Falling In Love", has come to life for and in me. (And you should definitely check out all of Jason's music, not only for the love of Jesus that is in his songs, but also because he is a great singer and songwriter.)

I'm caught up, called out, convicted and pardoned, given a new path and a new direction. All from learning to fall in love...

And now I have an ever deeper appreciation of the Psalms, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes. Wisdom is neither intellectual knowledge nor experiences of the heart; it's a working and living combination of the two. And I'm ready to grow in His wisdom. It's been shouting from the rooftops for me since long before I was born.

Interface: Commonality/Community

2012-02-16T05:43:00.001-06:00

Ever since I started studying the Bible in earnest almost twenty years ago, I've been interested in the Greek and Hebrew words used in the early texts. In an English translation, the words are chosen by the translators to best communicate either the idea indicated in the whole sentence, or to be closer to a word for word meaning translation. In either case, I've always liked to look at key words in the original languages to look for deeper meaning and understanding of what the writers were saying, and what God is saying to me.

Last night, during a class discussion with our co-pastor, Mindy, koinonia (κοινωνία) came alive for me. While it is used in many contexts in the New Testament, the overarching meaning is, "communion by intimate participation." It speaks of not only the remembrance of Christ in the Lord's Supper, but also the relationship of the people in the church.

Think about that second part a bit. When I look at myself, I can't honestly tell you that my church attendance is characterized by "intimate participation."

I can tell you that my thoughts and reflections during the Lord's Supper are intimate and intense. And while I fully believe that the call to remember Him at His table is the highest part of any church service, it's not the whole picture.

Intimate participation. It's a heavy thought.

The interesting thing is that when you look at the deeper into koinonia, this communion by intimate participation, to the Greek root word, koinos, we see that koinos simply means "common."

There's a really heavy idea. That our intimate participation in the Lord's Supper, and in the congregation is meant to be a common thing, rather than something out of the ordinary.

Common. Something occurring often. Ordinary. Something that we would see every day.

This intimate participation, instead of being viewed as something special that happens in our ordinary daily life, makes our ordinary daily lives something special.

Instead of church being something set apart as "special" in our lives, our entire lives become something set apart for God, sanctified in His name.

This commonality of fellowship, this community sense of intimate participation, that's what it means to be called to be His holy people.

But that takes us into a new Greek word to study.

Take a look at Proverbs 8, and then Mark 9:7, and may your day be blessed by listening to His wisdom.

Working On Relationships With People

2012-02-15T06:12:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, I wrote about working on our relationship with God in terms of how we treat people, and today, I'm going to make the logic completely circular, so to speak.

I'm an introvert, an extreme one. While I love having one on one conversations on subjects that are important to me, I have a very hard time with small talk and surface-level social conversations in group settings. What makes it worse is that some days my "give-a-flip" mechanism isn't working properly. It takes all the effort I have in me to simply smile and give a kind word to a stranger. But, at the same time, I know I can't live a fulfilling life, or the life God would have me live, if I stay in that mode.

To get out of that, I have to do some of the spiritual activities things that Beck wrote of in his blog post that can be misused as a substitute for simply being a decent person. I have to spend time in prayer and meditation, writing to clarify my thoughts, attending church services, and studying and internalizing His Word. Without those things, I have a difficult time keeping His will for how I relate to you in the front of my mind.

I've heard (as many of you may have) our spiritual relationships described using the Cross as an analogy. Think of the vertical bar of the Cross as the relationship between us and God, and the horizontal bar as our relationships between each other. And usually when we hear this analogy being used, the emphasis is on the horizontal bar, and how it needs to be complete and whole in order to have the vertical bar of our relationship with God to be right.

While there is a great deal of truth in that analogy, it's an incomplete picture of the dynamics of the entire process.

I'm glad that I don't have to get the human relationships fully corrected in order to have a relationship with God. I couldn't do it on my own.

For me (and I suspect many others, as well) the dynamic is circular. I have to reach out to God for His wisdom, healing, and power, so that I can have the strength and peace to reach out to others. As my relationship with people becomes stronger and deeper, my desire to strengthen my relationship with God increases.

I have to wake up and think about the things that are true, noble, right, pure, beautiful, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy to face the things in the world (and in each of us) that are false, crass, wrong, contaminated, ugly, loathsome, unworthy, and contemptible.

I have to ask for His help to relate properly to you, because only if I do that can I properly relate to myself.

I have to praise Him, so that I can see what is praiseworthy in you.

I have to focus on the beauty of His love, grace, and mercy for us to see the beauty that is within each of us.

I have to meditate on His suffering for our sins to see and touch the suffering in you.

Those five statements are also true in reverse. A feedback loop that goes both directions.

In Christ the whole fullness of God dwells bodily, and in Him we are filled. The feedback loop brings a deeper understanding of that into my heart

Working On Our Relationship With God

2012-02-14T08:17:00.000-06:00

I read a great blog post by Richard Beck, professor and department chair of Psychology at Abilene Christian University. Even though it was written in 2009, "The Bait and Switch of Contemporary Christianity" is still as relevant today as it was three years ago, and well worth your time to read. In it, Beck writes, "The trouble with contemporary Christianity is that a massive bait and switch is going on. "Christianity" has essentially become a mechanism for allowing millions of people to replace being a decent human being with something else, an endorsed "spiritual" substitute...The point is that one can fill a life full of spiritual activities without ever, actually, trying to become a more decent human being."

The question we are left with is , "What did Jesus want us to be, good church attendees or good human beings?" Look at the responses Christ gave to Peter after asking, "Do you love Me?" Each of the answers was to take care of His sheep. While we certainly aren't all followers of Christ, does not being a Christian make anyone not be one of His sheep? We know that Christ was trying to teach us a lesson there, but sometimes it seems as if we Christians only have part of the lesson learned.

I don't believe for one bit that Christ intended for this command to be something that we do to prove our love to Him (or our fellow Christians), but rather, a deep lesson in how to love him, how to transform our hearts to be more like His. And I believe that He intended for this to be a deeply personal lesson and spiritual activity.

While things like giving to charities, supporting missions, advocating for change in society are all good things, do they really reach deep within us and mold our hearts like clay? It's easy to get a sense of well-being and satisfaction from things like that, but do they bring about the crushed and tender heart that is the true sacrifice of God? And are we learning the deep lessons that He wants everyone to learn? Actively engaging with those who are suffering, lonely, hungry, depressed, confused, or just having a bad day brings the pain of real compassion into my heart. And that compassion moves me to greater generosity in all areas that I am able to give.

There's also a lesson in gratitude to be found here, and not just for us as Christians. We all know that the best gifts we can receive are the ones that truly come from someone's heart. When we take the time to reach out in a personal, one-on-one way of kindness and caring, the recipient knows and feels it. Christian or not, they're grateful for what they have received. And in the lessons of compassion and gratitude learned in this heart to heart way, He is there. And then His teaching of compassion can start anew in the heart of another.

I know these are the lessons He wants me to learn from this because of the example he set for us. When confronted with the suffering, He didn't pay for doctors to come and heal, He was there, face to face. When the time came to offer the sacrifice for all our sins, he didn't set up a foundation to gather lambs for the altar, He gave Himself as our sacrifice. When He asks me if I love Him, and He tells me to feed His lambs, I know that He wants me learn the deep lesson, to feel the piercing of my heart as I reach out to the suffering of others.

It's not easy; in fact, it's downright painful.

I'd like to turn away from it, and retreat into my comfort and contentment.

He's not letting me do that. The more I run, the worse it hurts.

It's even difficult to sit in church sometimes, because I know that I'm not the decent human being He would have me be.

But in all of this vulnerability and pain, He is making me a new man, and renewing a right spirit inside of me.

While I may never bring a deep understanding of His love directly to someone's heart, I can give people a glimpse of that. It starts with me trying to be a decent human being, to do what is right and good.

Sometimes, that may simply be a smile and a kind word.

Wasted On The Way

2012-02-13T05:18:00.001-06:00

After all the enjoyment I had singing at church a week ago with my friends Lindy, Christian, and April, I realized how much I had missed listening to Crosby, Stills, and Nash. After buying a couple of favorite albums of theirs, I found myself listening over and over to their song "Wasted on the Way."

The lyrics of the last chorus are what stuck with me most throughout the week, "So much love to make up everywhere you turn, Love we have wasted on the way."

You're either a fortunate person, or a very young one, if those lyrics don't resonate somewhere within you.

But sitting around, dredging up the old regrets, doesn't do anything to change the present and the future.

Love is still there to grasp, everywhere I turn. I just have to see it, and not let the chance go to waste. The big secret that some of us have to learn, is that love cannot be grasped unless it is given.

This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it. And not waste any chances to love.

Vulnerability v. False Sensitivity in the Healing Process

2012-02-09T07:21:00.002-06:00

After a night of tossing and turning in bed over some discussion of healing and vulnerability last night, some things are becoming clearer to me after a few cups of coffee this morning.

There is a big difference between being hurt and being offended.

And there is a big difference between being offended by something and being disgusted by something.

If I say something in anger that is designed to hit someone at a weak spot, then that is purely my meanness, and the fault lies solely with me. If I'm simply stating my experience and my belief, and it somehow offends someone, then the fault is not with me, but rather with the listener.

If someone says or does something that offends me, it is solely my responsibility, because we each choose the things that offend us. Perhaps it is not a conscious decision, but it is our own choice. If something someone says or does disgusts me, it is because that has touched the deepest parts of my heart and soul.

God's law is written on our hearts, and there are many things that should rightly disgust us.

What does any of that have to do with healing?

The deep soul healing from God comes though our vulnerable spots, and we have to let ourselves become vulnerable to gain that healing.

Just as we choose to let a doctor cut into our flesh to take out a diseased organ, we choose to let God cause some temporary pain to remove a diseased spot in our hearts.

But, if I am going through my life bring all the focus on to the things that are "offending" me, then I'm just building another layer of protection to keep you (and ultimately, God) at arm's length from me.

20My son, pay attention to what I say;listen closely to my words.21Do not let them out of your sight,keep them within your heart;22for they are life to those who find themand health to a man’s whole body.23Above all else, guard your heart,for it is the wellspring of life. Proverbs 4: 20-23, NIV

It is not enough for me to guard my heart from the lies and deceptions of the world, I must protect my heart from the lies and deceptions that I tell to myself. Anything I do that builds a false wall of security around my heart is limiting the wellspring of my life, and keeping me from the true vulnerability that allows me to receive His healing.

But that is a hard thing to do, as we all instinctively try to do anything to avoid pain., even when avoiding one pain keeps us trapped in another pain. As Jeremiah wrote, "Let us test and examine our ways, and return to the LORD!" Jeremiah 3: 40, ESV

Guarding my heart means deciding to allow Him to walk with me to some very painful places, so that He may bring me to healing, and to help bring others to healing. It also means that I can't allow myself to construct phantoms of false pain to keep His healing away from me. And it doesn't mean that I should allow myself to remain in a situation where someone's meanness can continue to hurt me.

He knows the plans He has for us. His plans will bring us prosperity, and not harm us, and give us a hope and a future. We don't have to guard our hearts from Him. We guard our hearts, with His wisdom and discernment, to go to the painful places where He may be found, and to keep ourselves from building a wall of false pain that keeps Him and everyone else out.

Both beauty and offensiveness are in the eyes of the beholder. The questions are, "Which of the two will I look for in others?", and, "Which one of those two will help to bring God's healing to the situation?"

Healing Along the Trail of Tears

2012-02-06T07:58:00.001-06:00

It would be so much easier for me to simply ask for healing and then just receive it, with no effort at all required on my part. It's so tempting to want to think of God's healing as little more than getting a shot from the doctor. The catch is that the healing that both God and doctors offer come with instructions to be followed. That means I have to do something, like lose weight and exercise or let go of my spiritual poisons and help people that truly need help. That's a tall order in the days of pressing a button to change the channel on the TV, or just clicking on a link to go to another website.

But the really important things in life usually aren't about instant gratification.

In some odd bit of prescience, I titled the image above "Healing" when I had originally taken it.

Bright sunlight and two paths at the fork.

One going directly to the light, the other leading to shadows.

With spiritual health, as with the physical, we have a choice of paths to follow.

Sometimes it's harder to see the difference in the paths, and we don't know what lies ahead for us down either path. Weighing the risks, trusting His guidance, having courage to not turn back, they all come into play at the fork in the road. One path may be a difficult walk, but take me to a beautiful view; the other may be easier, but simply take me back to where I started, back to my soul-sickness.

The path that brings me to healing may require a sacrifice from me. I may have to stop many times along the way, reaching my hand out to another, becoming vulnerable in the process. It may take me to ugly and painful places on the way to the goal, places that I would rather avoid. It will require me to ask for help to find my way. I'll likely have to dig a grave along that path, one in which to bury my selfishness.

But, at the end of that path, I will receive a crown. A crown that I can lay at His wounded feet. And then, my healing will be complete.

Both paths will be a Trail of Tears. I get to decide whether they will be bitter tears or tears of joy

Static

2012-02-02T05:37:00.000-06:00

Late at night, on a road out in the rural areas far from big cities, someone spins the dial on the AM radio looking for a station to tune into. I've done it myself many times. Some of the channels are empty, some may have a distant signal that will come in clear enough to understand easily. Much of the time, you'll hear two or more stations from afar, struggling to gain the radio's full attention.

As the stations fade in and out, you can sometimes hear a weaker signal that remains steady underneath the static and noise. With some careful attention, you can manage to listen to that station while ignoring the louder ones that waver and shift.

Listening for the still, small voice of God's guidance can be like that sometimes. For me, it can be like that much of the time. Worries, resentments, and desires all compete to drown out that one quiet voice. It takes patience, practice and attention to consistently listen for it.

Static interferes with my listening to you, too. I have things to do, places to be, and insignificant musings to distract me from hearing you. Your pain becomes a voice in the distance, sometimes too far away for my heart to hear. Listening becomes work, and difficult work at that.

Romans 8:22-27 speaks much about groaning. The groans of all creation, the groans of the Holy Spirit interceding for us, and our own groaning as we wait for our adoption as His children and the redemption of our bodies.

It's not a pleasant sound; it's the sound of pain and suffering. We instinctively want to avoid hearing the pained wailing; it reminds us too much of our own pain.

We want to forget the pain. We do everything we can to avoid those memories. The intense, short-term pains we don't mind remembering quite so much, just to avoid having that happen again. But the ones that linger and throb, we want to get away from those. Especially the pains that remind us of the pain we have caused others.

That's why I don't want to listen to you; you might remind me of my own wounds. Your pain might hit too close to home for me to remain in my distracted illusion of comfort.

But trying to keep your pain from getting too close to me doesn't help you one bit, and it actually brings more harm to me.

As I sit with you through your pain, I learn to walk through mine. As I practice gentleness towards your pain, I learn to practice that same gentleness with myself. And in the midst of us as we deal with the pains of our lives, His comforting Holy Spirit is there with us, bringing us His healing.

And then, the static is gone; replaced by quiet clarity and peace. There we are renewed in our inner being. In the silence of our own pain being healed, we realize the pain that the Son endured for our redemption.

"Surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows He carried. Yet we ourselves esteemed Him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.
But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, and by His scourging we are healed."
Isaiah 53: 4 and 5, NASB

All He asks of me in return is to obey His Word.

His command to listen.

To listen to His Son.

To feed His lambs; not only the physical body, but also the soul.

To feed by listening.

By sharing in your pain and suffering to understand His pain and suffering for us.

To learn compassion and mercy for you, and to understand His compassion and mercy for me.

Love always carries risk. Sometimes the risk is of getting hurt, sometimes it is the risk of feeling the pain of others.

It is the only way for us to heal.

I can't really listen to you, unless I'm listening to Him. In fact, listening to you is often the best way to hear Him and his guidance.

Fog

2012-02-01T05:20:00.001-06:00

It's a very foggy morning around SouthEast Texas today. A fairly common occurrence during this season, when the ground and Gulf waters have been cooled by Winter, and warm humid air moves off of the Gulf of Mexico. Most of the time, the fog will lift by mid-morning, but sometimes, it stays foggy for days.

It's hard to drive; the visibility is low, and the roads are slick. Cars slide around, and hit each other or go off of the road completely. It's hazardous until the warmth of the sun lifts the fog and dries the road.

It's similar to what can happen in our lives and hearts at times. Events and things cause the view to become hazy, but we think we can guide ourselves safely, because we've managed OK so many times before.

We might be in the driver's seat, but are we the real source of guidance? So many times in my life, I've crashed into other people, or gone off the path completely, because I was sure that I had things under control.

Just like I need the sun to burn away the fog outside, I need His Light to burn away the fog in my heart and mind. When it lifts, I can see the hazards and distractions, and the guideposts to help me along the path. I can see you clearly; avoiding a collision with you, or of going off the road completely. When I can see you clearly, I can step out of the driver's seat, and simply take your hand and be beside you.

No matter what the weather is like at our location, the skies of our hearts can have ten mile visibility and unlimited ceiling, so long as we know where His Light is.

The Pain and Joy of the Kingdom

2012-01-27T19:30:00.000-06:00

A couple of days ago, my good friend Lindy and I were talking about the different Bible classes we're in, and some of the subject matter that comes up. She spoke of the thought that so many of us have about what it will be like "when we see Jesus", in terms of how Heaven will be. That part of our discussion stuck with me, and brought up some disquieting thoughts in me.

He comes to bring a sword, not peace. Not to fight earthly wars, but to attack and pierce my selfishness and contentment. His Word slicing my soul and spirit, judging my heart.

His Kingdom is in our midst/within us. Luke 17:21 can be read both ways. It's in the sometimes vast gap between us, and in the depth of our own being.

The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand. But I have to reach out my hand to touch it.

"When we see Jesus." It's so hard to comprehend the light that ends my blindness, but when my eyes adjust I can see Him, here and now, in His distressing disguises.

Seeing Him here scares me, and makes me despair. The hungry, the forgotten, the abandoned and abused children, the wailing widows and the caged prisoners. The people being eaten by disease and trapped in the illness of their mind. The refugees from wars and crimes, and those oppressed in their own homelands. The countless ones suffering in silence and loneliness. Those who are groaning from grief and pain.

In other words, in you and me, and all of creation...

The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand. It's at our hands. To touch it here in this life means reaching out to touch the pain, the sadness, the fear. Both in the space between us and inside our own souls.

Picking up my cross and following Him brings an exquisite pain, and also an exquisite joy. John 21:7 came to life for me the other night. As Peter flung himself into the sea to swim to his Lord, Lindy's beautiful daughter runs to me each time she sees me. My joy at her smiling face running towards me. God's joy when we run to Him. Exquisite and ineffable.

The joy of His Kingdom is here for us to grasp, if we are willing to also touch the pain.

Who Am I, Part Three: A Brother

2012-01-24T21:13:00.002-06:00

There are a lot of times that I really wish I could find, and be with God completely in my solitude. It would be a lot less painful to just go and sit under my personal bodhi tree and be at one with Him, rather than looking for Him where he is truly to be found.

The sunken eyes of the hungry children. The cries and tears of the widow. The anger of the betrayed. The nameless dread of the condemned prisoner.

In other words, in you; in the hunger, loneliness, anger, and fear that is in you.

You scare me.

I see your successes, and can think of nothing but my failures.
I see your pain, and know that I'm simply trying my best to hide mine, but don't do a good job at it.
I see you reach out to know who I am, and think that you will think as poorly of me as I do of myself.
I see your weakness and need for love, and get angry at myself for needing the same.

You scare me, because I'm afraid of the things I see in myself that I see in you.

Being an only child, I haven't the slightest idea of what it means to be a brother to someone. The closest I can imagine is the relationship I have with my life-long best friend, Ed. Through the years, even during the times that we have wanted to come to blows with each other, we've been there for each other in times of crisis, and stand with each other against anyone that wants to harm the other.

As little as I know how to be His child, I know that much less about how to be your brother.

His Grace is sufficient, and His power is perfected in weakness. Your weakness. My weakness.

To let His power be perfected in my weakness, I have to be unafraid to touch your weakness. And to let you touch my own weakness.

That scares me most of all.

Who Am I, Part Two: The Orphan

2012-01-24T20:44:00.000-06:00

In my previous post, I wrote of who I am in God's view, in terms of a relationship with Him, and His promises. It's important to understand who I am in relationship to myself, and why I so desperately need the gifts He offers.

I'm a fraud.

A lying, deceitful fraud.

Ask me how I'm doing, and I'll tell you that I'm feeling great, and everything is fine. Can't have you thinking I'm weak or needy. I'll even pretend to be interested in how you're doing, but in my mind, a dozen things are vying for the top position of my attention. Important things, mind you, like worrying about something that may or may not happen tomorrow, or trying to set aside some time for self-loathing.

The funny thing is that when my mind is occupied with those boogeymen and imagined needs, I rarely stop to think about what my true needs are.

I need the joy of the Lord, because I am weak and need strength.

I need His courage to face my fears, because He has overcome the world.

I need His Holy Spirit, to teach me, and bring His Word to my remembrance.

I need His Truth, to set me free from the chains of the world, and even more from the chains I forge and place upon myself.

I need His forgiveness, because I have failed Him. And you. And myself.

I need to remember that He has made me new, so that I can walk in the light, and not remain in the darkness.

Who Am I: The Adopted

2012-01-24T13:13:00.002-06:00

It's a cool, rainy day today. Sitting in my workshop, watching the rain fall, I'm thinking about a question posed in a Bible class that I currently attend: Who am I, really?

Looking below the surface at this question brings up a lot of strong feelings in me. Am I my mistakes, my errors, my failures? Many days, I feel that way. But those define me only if I choose to let them; they are simply a part of me and what I have done in life.

Am I my talents? I like to fancy myself as a guitarist, as I have put in many years of practice at it, but that is a very limited part of who I am. Am I a father, a son, a friend, an employee? Only if I look at my existence in a very limited way. Were I an atheist, I would say that I am simply a biological machine; were I a spiritualist, I would say that I am just a spirit inhabiting a body. All of these are lacking to describe who I truly am.

God tells me who I am, and describes it magnificently. I am His beloved. I have received His spirit of adoption. I am a joint heir of His Kingdom. I am one for whom the body of His Son was broken, and for whom His blood was shed. I am made by Him, fearfully and wonderfully, and have been made new in my soul by Him. I am His child, His lost lamb, His prodigal son.

It has always been a difficult thing for me to personalize "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son." For God so loved me that He gave His only begotten Son is a humbling and awe-inspiring thought to internalize.

But it's true.

I am His beloved child.

New Year's Day

2012-01-01T08:42:00.000-06:00

It's going to be a good day, and I believe this year will be better than the last (all in all, last year was much better for me than many previous years.)

One thing I know that will be better is my spiritual growth. We have some great classes coming up at our church, and I'll be able to participate in several of them. I think I'm looking forward to that the most this year. Along with that comes feeding my soul better things. I have several books on my Kindle by N. T. Wright, Henri Nouwen, Francis Chan, Rob Bell, and others that I will get through in the first quarter this year.

I'm going to work on opening my heart, properly, to others, being more gracious and giving to all, while keeping myself a bit more guarded with some.

I heard a great sermon this morning about the places we find God. The quiet prayer and meditation isn't difficult at all for me, rather, I need to look for God in places I wouldn't normally look: in the crowd, the noise of children, the tears of the suffering.

A new year, a time to make new personal covenant, a time to change, a time to become the man God would have me be.

Christmas Gifts

2011-12-25T08:58:00.004-06:00

I was just watching the local morning news and the station had asked on their Facebook page if people had gotten the gift they wanted. After a night and morning of listening to Andrew Peterson's "Behold The Lamb of God", the joy so many people take in materialism struck me wistfully.

Love.

It's the only real gift there is.

The sting of losing the love of a person still very dear to me is tempered by my reflections on this time of remembering the greatest gift of love ever given.

"Behold, the Lamb of God that takes away our sins has come."

I can't think about the joyousness of His birth here without looking ahead to His sacrifice for us.

His blood of the covenant, poured out for us, to save us from our sins, to save us from ourselves.

Surely, He has, and continues to, take up our infirmities and carry our sorrows.

Everything else pales in comparison.

Seeking Balance

2011-11-13T19:16:00.001-06:00

"Tradition is the living faith of those who are dead; traditionalism is the dead faith of those who are living." - Jaroslav Pelikan.

Shout joyfully to the LORD, all the earth / But the LORD is in His holy temple. Let all the earth be silent before Him.

O clap your hands, all peoples; Shout to God with the voice of joy / Guard your steps as you go to the house of God and draw near to listen rather than to offer the sacrifice of fools; for they do not know they are doing evil.

Praise him with tambourine and dancing / Be still, and know that I am God.

So many seemingly conflicting statements about worship in the Old Testament.
So many churches that choose one or the other for their style of worship.

"We've always done it this way."
"We're going to do things different because______."

Jubilant praise and singing is not incompatible with silent, prayerful reflection on the sacrifice of the Lamb of God to redeem us from our sins.

The Holy Spirit that turned people's focus outward on the Pentecost to proclaim Christ to all the world is the same Holy Spirit that renews and comforts us in the depths our spirit.

"Therefore, since we receive a kingdom which cannot be shaken, let us show gratitude, by which we may offer to God an acceptable service with reverence and awe"

Gratitude is both joyful and humble, proclaiming and silent.

True balance isn't achieved by moving the weights to the middle of the scales; it comes from equal weight on both ends.

He desires our joyful praise.
He desires our crushed hearts.
We can give him both in worship, with reverence and awe.

For our God is a consuming fire.

The Joy of the Lord.

2011-10-30T15:56:00.000-05:00

This morning we had Children's Sabbath at my church. Normally, we have an introductory section of the service, then the children leave to have their own service geared towards their needs and understanding. Today was different in that the children were the service. Not just the focus of the service, but the chief participants. They sang as the choir, led the prayers, and in the course of hearing the lesson delivered to them by the children's ministers, delivered a powerful one themselves.

The lesson to them was of the parable of the mustard seed, but that wasn't the message delivered to me. Watching them read their verses and lead the prayers, Mt 18:3 was the first thing to come to my mind: "Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you shall not enter the Kingdom of Heaven." After a few moments of contemplating that verse, and seeing their excitement, energy, and happiness, my mind went immediately to the verse from Nehemiah: "The joy of the Lord is your strength."

His joy, not mine.

Becoming my strength.

His indwelling Spirit, given in abundance.

Into my emptiness.

His Grace and Mercy, poured out in His anguish for us.

Cleaning and renewing me, giving me new eyes and a new heart to see the youth and innocence given to us.

His pure love, in the hugs of a little girl.

Letting me give Him an acceptable sacrifice, my contrite heart.

Very grateful right now for eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart to be moved.

Droughts

2011-08-25T19:06:00.001-05:00

Finally got a tiny amount of rain last here in drought-stricken Texas last night. Grasses have been shriveling up, trying to keep only their cores alive until the return of proper rain. Leaves and branches are falling off of trees that are putting all of their energy into extending roots to grasp at any bit of moisture they can find.

When it comes to our spiritual droughts of love, we're not much different from plants in our behavior. Our inner beauty starts to wither as we desperately try to make some sort of connection that will satisfy our need for love. Like a tree, many of these roots fail to find nourishment. Some find a temporary source, then fade. Only one root can reach the true source of the living water that provides the fullness to our souls.

I've heard it said many times that you have to give love to get love, but I think that's only a half-truth. I love the way that master songwriter David Wilcox put it once: "We cannot trade empty for empty, we must go to the waterfall for there's a break in the cup that holds love inside us all." The droughts come and go, but that one source, the waterfall, the fountain, the living water that cleanses and nourishes always remains available.

“Everyone who drinks of this water will thirst again; but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him shall never thirst; but the water that I will give him will become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life.”

Once our true thirst is slaked, then we can share with others the water of life, of love, of our soul's true desire. Our roots and branches can be full, and the storms cannot break or topple us.

The droughts will still come, but the thirst will not.

I love the way the band Caedmon's Call once put it: "The past can be like sidewalk chalk if you will dance and pray for rain. Let go and forget what you know."

Routines

2011-08-22T04:44:00.001-05:00

Some people do a lot better with changes to their normal routine than others do. I'm one of those that doesn't do very well with changes to my daily routine, and it seems even harder to get myself back to equilibrium once things go back to normal. My posting here has gotten out of my normal schedule because I had a three-week change in my work schedule as my boss was on vacation and I was covering the office during her absence. I figured I would simply pop right back into my previous writing schedule in a couple of days after she returned, but I just haven't been able to do that.

I'm having to force myself to try and get back to normal writing now; making myself write this at 4 a.m. after a restless night. My brain seems to be telling me that this is foreign and new, but it's the time of day that I would usually start writing. I've even had difficulty in thinking of topics to write about. In thinking about routines this morning I was reminded of Daniel and his routine of praying three times a day, no matter his situation. I need to re-establish my old routine of a morning devotional time, no matter the situation, and let my day and thoughts be led by that. It's so easy to find excuses to not do that, yet I'll readily adjust things to fit in a TV show or football game.

I have a few new books to read, and a couple I need to re-read to start participating in a discussion about neuropsychology with a friend. Hopefully, that will get me back into a more creative mode, and my writing will flourish again. Maybe it's just the heat and the drought here affecting me; it seems to be sapping everyone I see. We need rain, for the ground, for our minds, for our hearts.

Take care and stay cool.

An Introvert's Place in a Church Community

2011-08-08T07:44:00.003-05:00

Over the past decade or so there has been a huge upswing in the amount of talk/discussion/sermonizing about being a part of a church 'community' or 'family.' Listening to these discussions, you'd tend to believe that it is somehow wrong, or even sinful, to keep your spiritual life largely to yourself while simply attending just the weekly worship services. This misconception is understandable, especially knowing that preachers are almost all extroverts, as are the majority of people they encounter and work with. Getting the introverts to be a comfortable part of a church community takes understanding and work from both the extroverts and the introverts, but it can be done effectively and lovingly.

Back when this movement to strengthen the sense of community in churches started, I left a church, partly because of the incessant pressure to participate in "small groups" and other functions outside of worship services. I was left with such a bad taste from that experience (and others) that I refuse to ever attend a church of that denomination ever again, except for a funeral service. Since I didn't attend the first couple of meetings of the small group, I was put on the 'telephone ministry' list (my term for it). This started off with weekly calls from two or three of the small group members entreating me to join their weekly get-together, and eventually became near-daily calls from one member that I assume was assigned to get me to come back into the fold. Out of all that pressure, this introvert quit going to church, and didn't attend another one for almost a decade. So exactly whom was the beneficiary of all of that 'evangelism'? Not the church or the small group, since I quit entirely. Not me, since I was apart from even a small part of communal worship. And certainly not God. So how can we change this and bring introverts and extroverts together as one vibrant, effective community?

First, the extroverts in the church need to understand how an introvert functions, and that being an introvert isn't somehow wrong or subversive to this renewed effort to re-establish the close nature of the first-century church. The first problem to look at is that there is no history of monasticism in the vast majority of church denominations that have arisen since the years of the reformation and restoration movements. This is a mixed bag of blessings and curses, though; the removal of layers of hierarchy and separation being a good thing, but the near-complete ignorance and indifference to the needs of introverted people being a bad thing. At one time in history, there was a great support for monastically and eremitically inclined people from the church at large, to the point that it became fashionable for wealthier people to support a silent monk or a mendicant friar on their own property. Our modern world doesn't lend itself well to that kind of lifestyle for most people, and most introverts don't want to be cut off completely from their fellow man. (We actually crave the feeling of community, but we get it differently than extroverts, by forming deep relationships with a few people, rather than more casual relationships with many people.) A few good-hearted extroverts understanding that about introverts can go a long way towards bringing comfort and community to those of us that just can't jump into the community life with such ease.

Second, we introverts need to fully understand how we can be an effective part of the church community, and that we are needed to be a part of that community. We have to understand the needs of our introversion, how it makes us behave, that it is not somehow 'wrong' or 'sinful' in any way, and that we can meet some needs of some individuals in ways that most extroverts cannot. We are a part of the Body, regardless of whether or not we feel that way, and 1 Corinthians 12:15ff explains it perfectly. The Body has many parts, and each has an important function to allow the body to work in complete wholeness. It has a voice to proclaim the Gospel, feet to carry the message, hands to reach out and help with work, but also ears to hear, a mind to understand and a heart to empathize, and shoulders to cry upon. Knowing our strengths and weaknesses in these areas, helps us to know our function and purpose in Christ's Kingdom, helps to complete the Body in our individual churches, and ultimately helps to bring wholeness to ourselves.

The third point I have here is important to both introverts and extroverts in making our church bodies complete. Once we understand our place in the Body, and the job that our part does, we have to learn to be most effective in that job. And learning how to be most effective usually requires work, and uncomfortable work, at that. For an extrovert, that might mean making a conscious decision to spend more time in prayerful introspection on one's own life. For the introvert, it could mean making ourselves step out of ourselves, and reaching out to the inner being of another, while letting that person touch our inner being also. And for both groups to do either effectively requires the help of the other group, and doing that helps us all to better help anyone we may come across. And, ultimately, that is what God wants us all to do, isn't it?

Whichever side of the Introvert/Extrovert spectrum we fall on, integrating ourselves into one Body effectively will require us to step outside of our comfort zone and try something different that what we normally do. And that will ultimately bring us comfort, as individuals, as parts of the Body, and as a whole and complete Body.

Ready to take that step out of the comfort zone with you,
Eric.

Vision of the Heart

2011-08-02T11:18:00.003-05:00

As an amateur photographer, it has always been interesting to me to hear what people think about my photos. I get a lot of good input from my photographer friends about composition, processing, and such, but I really enjoy hearing from non-photographers when they talk about what thoughts and feelings one of my photos invokes. It's amazing to me how different people can look at the same photo and see so many different things and stories in the picture, especially since I rarely have a conscious idea of any kind of story in a photo, I simply see something that catches my interest, and try to capture the image as best I can.

Last night, I was talking with a friend about my photos while looking through them, and she was telling me different things that a friend of hers saw in my pictures. Some of the ideas were similar to what I thought about them, but as a non-photographer, her friend was looking much deeper than things like composition, exposure, and processing; she was looking at the pictures with her heart, rather than her mind. Sometimes, I've done a series of photos that tell an explicit story from just the images, like my series Shattered Dreams.

At other times, I've fit a series of photos to a message that I wanted to express, as in this three-part photoessay.

And sometimes, there's no story or message to be told, simply something in which I found beauty that I wanted to share with others.

Regardless of the message or intent that I have in a photo, I love how an image can move other people to think, feel and look deeper, both in the image and within themselves. What this topic really got me to thinking about this morning is how it is so easy to not think, feel, and look deeper into the images that our eyes constantly bring us. Especially in the images of the people we see. In our closer friends, we know the story and message, to some extent, and these close relationships are easy to look into deeper. But what about the images of the random people we come across? Am I taking even a slight moment to look deeper into them and their actions and motives? Is there something, even as small as simple understanding, that I could do for that person? Throughout the Gospels, we see how Jesus was perfection embodied, and especially of seeing and knowing the deeper story and meaning with a person. So, if I am trying to live a Christ-like life, I think it starts with trying to improve the vision of my heart, to see into the joys and sufferings of another. If I can spend time trying to imagine the story behind pixels on my computer screen, then why is it so hard for me to do the same with the real-life image of a person. Understanding a picture on a screen requires very little of me; to do the same for a person requires me to empty myself. To empty myself and let Christ's heart dwell within me is something easily rhapsodized about, yet so very difficult to even begin doing. My ego clings to its walls, refusing to be set aside, even for something better.

Still, as a behaviorist at heart, I think that our outside actions work to transform out inner experience. At the same time, I know that I must engage in the deeper inner reflection, as I am changing the outer actions, because I know that God wants us to seek wisdom. By focusing on either the internal or external, I gain valuable knowledge. Only by combining the two in a prayerful, seeking heart do I gain wisdom. A new pair of glasses with which to see the world and those in it, so to speak...

Interface: Love Your Neighbor

2011-07-25T07:25:00.001-05:00

I've long been interested in the scientific examination of existential questions, such as, "What exactly is my mind's I?", "Where exactly does this I interface with my brain?", etc. And while I still love to read all sorts of scientific works on that subject, I've come to realize on a deeper level what Jesus taught us so long ago; the interface of my mind's I and my brain isn't nearly as important to my life as the interface of my I and your I.

No matter what you believe about the nature of the self and the soul, it's pretty hard to justify not loving our neighbors, especially in terms of society and community. The cold selfishness of "Every man for himself" brings us to a level that is somewhat lower than that of some animals, and certainly much less noble. It's easy enough to love the ones that have captured our hearts and attention, but how in the world do we go about loving our neighbors, the ones that live near us, the unknown ones we meet randomly, and the ones we actively dislike?

The English word "love" is a particularly impoverished one; we use it on so many different levels from people to animals to objects. And to accurately describe the differences in those levels, we have to resort to a multitude of words to express these levels. But, in the context of this discussion, the best way to express "love" your neighbor was one I heard years ago: to know and meet the needs of another. None of us can meet all the needs of another, nor should we. What we can do is meet the needs of our neighbor at the level of our interfaces, and the closer our interface is, the more we can do for these people.

I could (and countless people have and do) write about how to improve this aspect of our lives with the ones closest to us, but that would be a post that would never end. The real problem is that "to know and meet the needs" of those we randomly encounter each day is something so exceedingly simple that it becomes very difficult to do consistently, at least for me: Just Be Nice. To Everyone.

Generalizing (and a BIG generalization), we tend to fall in to two categories: nice to strangers, and nice to those near us. For the vast majority of us, it isn't a question of liking/disliking one group versus another, it's that we tend to get distracted. For some of us, it's easier to extend ourselves to the stranger that we don't have a history with, the ones that haven't hurt us. For others it's easier to save our kindness for those we feel deserve it, and let mistrust and detachment rule our random encounters. For a lot of us, though, I think it's just that we forget to keep our view outwards when we interact with people.

How many times have you(me) gone about your(my) day with all sorts of things in the forefront of your(my) mind, forgetting the basics of simple politeness to the people on the street, in the office and behind the counters at the stores? Or, flipping that around, practicing that niceness to strangers, saving the aloofness or venom for home, expecting those closest to us to "just understand?" Neither one of those scenarios is good for others, and especially not for us.

We have to be mindful of our outward expressions and actions, with both types of relationships. The simplest way that I've found to start doing this is a suggestion from Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama: Practice Smiling. Yep, it can really be that simple to start out. A simple smile, hello, and thank you to the waitress or cashier flows easily to a hug and an "I love you" to those at home. A simple smile can also trick our brain into feeling better, with the conflicting signal from the smile overriding the negativity that is occupying our attention. Many people would dismiss this as "faking it", but my good friend Scott puts it so well: "You might think you're faking it, but if you're actually doing it, you're not really faking it." It doesn't matter one bit how I feel inside, if I'm helping someone else to feel better, regardless of my internal state, then it's not faking it.

It's so easy for us in this fast-paced modern world to forget that knowing and meeting the needs of the majority of people with whom we come in contact is as simple as a smile and a kind, friendly word. If you think I'm wrong, just think about how it makes you feel when you get that from a stranger...

I'm not going to tell you to have a great day, because I don't want to tell anyone what to do, but I'm going to go out and have a great one! ;)

Gratitude

2011-07-20T08:22:00.002-05:00

I've been thinking about this for a while now, much more so after a few conversations I've had with friends over the past few days. It's just amazing how our attitudes can get so out-of-whack in so many areas when gratitude falls out of our view. But how do we keep gratitude in sight, or at least in our peripheral vision? Just saying, "I will be grateful today", won't do it. For me, a list/inventory is the way to go.

Writing a gratitude list can be harder than it sounds, especially if you're feeling more ungrateful than normal, or have never done it before. Still, it shouldn't take more than a few minutes to get at least a short list started. Once a few things get on the paper, then more things will flow naturally. If it's really difficult to get a list going, then starting with some very basic things like air to breathe, food to eat, running water, etc., will get the ball rolling. Then we can get down to the "strong meat" referenced in the book of Hebrews. So let me put a few items down and take a look at why I have these things to be grateful for, and more importantly, where they come from:

I live in a world filled with modern conveniences. Most of these things I call 'conveniences' would have been rich luxuries in the past, and still are in much of the world today.
There is a wonderful woman in my life that loves me deeply for who I am, and not what I can do for her.
I have an employer that cares for my well-being as an employee and as a person
I have talents and skills in music, writing, and photography.

That's enough for this example, but I could write all day, and still not be finished. These are humbling enough, but a little deeper look at who gave me these gifts brings a deeper understanding. So, in order of my list, these gifts were given to me by God, girlfriend, boss, and God. Fine enough on the surface, but there's more to 2 and 3 than the surface. Why do I have those things? And who is ultimately responsible?

Starting with number three, why do I have that? If I choose to look at it as sheer luck, then there's really not much to be grateful for, it's just the way the dice rolled. But, If I choose to look at from the perspective of grace (undeserved favor) then I see that there's more to the picture. I could stop at the point of my boss being an old high school friend doing something nice for old time's sake, but is that really what's going on? Looking deeper at the person my boss is, learning about her and the way she lives internally, I can see God's love working in and through her life. It's one thing to look at our salvation with the awe and humility of an undeserved gift, but to look at this through that same filter, it's easier for me to see that this was a truly undeserved gift given to me by God, through one of his servants here.

Looking now at the second item on my list, I could easily say that I deserve someone to love me, because that's what we all deserve. Really? Do any of us really deserve to be loved? If I start giving you reasons why I deserve to be loved, then I am doing nothing more than feeding my ego, and that is the antithesis of this exercise. And if I ascribe the other person's motives to things that are selfish or simply reciprocal, then I am selling both ourselves short. I don't deserve her love any more than I deserve God's love, but there it is for me; a free gift, that is undeserved by what I have done or can do.

These things may sound a bit Pollyanna-ish, especially to someone that is going through a hard time or a crisis. The thing I have to remember (and it can be so very hard to remember this in times of crisis) is that instead of asking God, "Why me?" I need to ask myself, "Why not me?" Is there something special about me that I should be exempted from the life events that happen to everyone on this planet? Nope, not at all, and any other answer is just deflection or ego-feeding. I'm not going to be the person that says, "There's a lesson in everything, both the good and bad, you just have to learn it." That's far too saccharine for me to say. Some things that happen in life are just plain painful and bad, and there's no deep lesson to learn except to persevere through it. Blaming God or telling myself I deserved it just separates me from God and from myself.

So whether I see a gift as coming from a person or ultimately, from God, I have to ask myself why I was given this gift. And the answer that underlies it all is love. And that leaves me with the thought that what I really need is not to receive more love, but to show more love...

Do I Smell Like A Corpse Flower?

2011-07-18T07:10:00.005-05:00

Here in Houston, we're having another rare event; the blooming of a corpse flower (Amorphophallus titanum or the Titan Arum.) The blooming of this endangered species has only happened 29 times in the U.S., and this is the second time in the space of two years that it has happened in Houston. Not really a very spiritual/existential topic, unless we look at it from a slightly different angle. We've all heard the cliche, "Bloom where you are planted." Those cutesy little sayings bug the daylights out of me, but all this got me thinking a little deeper on the subject after seeing the story of Houston's corpse flower on the news this morning.

"You shall know them by their fruits", as the verse goes about discerning false prophets, but how can we use this as a metaphor to look at ourselves? Any plant that produces a fruit blooms first. Turning this inward, no matter what our fruit is, we have to bloom in order to produce that fruit. The tricky thing is that while we may not have much of a choice in what our fruits to the world are, we have all the choice in the fragrance of our blooms. Does our flower have a sweet or fruitful scent, a stench of roadkill, boiled cabbage, and dirty feet (which is how the corpse flower is often described) or no scent at all? Probably the saddest of these in human terms is the scentless one.

We all know that flowers have different levels of scent, too, some filling the landscape, some requiring walking up to the plant, and others demanding that we smell the individual blossom. And, like the levels of our relationships, we each have scents of those levels to give off to the world. I love the huge, sweet aroma of plants like Gardenias and Magnolias, but the thing about them is that the scent can become overpowering, and with the case of some Magnolias, it can become sickening and spoiled smelling as it hangs in the still air.

My favorite flowers are roses. The climbing and bush roses that fill their vicinity with their perfume are nice, but my favorites are the tea roses, the ones that you have to grasp each flower to draw in and appreciate the smell. To me, they are the most like us in terms of difference and complexity. Each one, beautiful to view, with a deeper appreciation of each as you draw closer. Something that can be appreciated just for its mere existence. Small wonder that they are regarded as the flower that signifies love.

Azaleas would be the flower to fit the saddest category for me. They bloom spectacularly, once each year, yet have no scent at all to draw us in closer (yes, I know all about the Encore azaleas, but this isn't about my horticultural thoughts.) All show, and no go, as the old saying fits, there isn't anything there to keep us coming back and pulling the flower to our noses; they're just something that makes us smile as we walk by and look at it.

And then we have the oddity of the corpse flower, the car wreck of the floral world; drawing crowds to stare and be revolted, but being nothing that anyone would want in their own garden. The only real thing that makes it something of interest is the rarity of its blooming. If they were prolific in their growth and frequent in their blooming, we'd develop herbicides specifically to get rid of it. And we do exactly that to the people in our lives that bloom like a corpse flower.

All of this brings me to ask, when have I been like each of these flowers, and what can I do to change the scent of my next blossom? It's easy to see when we've been like the corpse flower or the rose, not so much like the overpowering Magnolia or the scentless azalea. Perhaps just as important is to ask myself if I have taken the time to enjoy the bloom of another and what I have done to help them be a rose and not a corpse flower.

So today, I'm not going out to be my brother's keeper. Rather, I'll regard myself as my brother's (and my own) horticulturist, working to bring out numerous sweet blossoms from all.

Sparks

2011-07-13T05:36:00.004-05:00

It was just a little scrawny poodle. She had picked it out just after 9/11, in those weeks when so many people were still feeling the unease and uncertainty from the attacks. He thought she made a bad choice; there were healthier puppies to be found. He would keep the puppy when she had to travel, taking it places he would go, and letting it sleep with him. Though they had parted company years before, he would still get to see the little fluffball once every year or two. These days, the old poodle walks slowly, until he walks in to see him. The thin, ten year old dog's legs come alive and jump and dance to see him. The spark was still there...

They had known each other since grade school, never more than passing acquaintances until High School. They shared a common activity back then, but were never more than casual friends. He remembered his pleasure at her presence and smile when she stood next to him for a group photo. Decades passed without any contact since those school days, then they happened to run into each other at a coffee shop. He still saw the young girl that once enraptured him and she saw a new man, different than the clumsy boy from their youth. A touch, an embrace, a kiss, and the spark grew into the flames of love to warm their former loneliness...

She was a singer in her youth, and still was as an adult. Once, he had written music for her to sing, now he barely listened to music at all. She was always his first choice to sing with in those days of song, but he had lost contact with her after graduation, as he had done with so many others. Through the strange circumstances of the working world, they had come to work in the same office so many years later. Their mature conversations about life and theology became one of the highlights of his day, and he finally had a job that he looked forward to going to each morning. The spark had become the warm, glowing embers of friendship...

Once upon a time, he knew Him, but then turned his back upon Him. Wandering through the years of his life, he searched the philosophies and teachings of the world in an effort to free himself from thoughts of Him. Finally, he resigned himself to being an outcast, an apostate. After some time, his strength had faded, and he could no longer walk the road. In his exhaustion, all he could say was, "God help me." After some time his legs strengthened and the road became smoother, or so it seemed to him. Then he realized that someone was walking beside him, helping him walk along the rocks and ruts that were still in the road. It was then he realized that his redemption was real, and he had been led home. The spark had lit the torch to light his path, bringing him back to the bonfires of the party his Father was throwing for the returned prodigal...

...As You Love Yourself

2011-07-11T07:21:00.002-05:00

Many people, both in and out of the church, are familiar with the two greatest commandments as taught by Jesus: "You shall love God with all your heart, and you shall love your neighbor as you love yourself." Two commandments, but three actions. Love God, Love your neighbor, and love yourself. Loving yourself has been the subject of countless writings, especially in the 20th century, but how exactly can we do that, and how does someone that doesn't love their self get there? I'll take a look at a few things in this post that have been helpful to me, and hopefully to you as well.

What's the first thing we do when we fall in love with someone and want them to fall in love with us? Spend as much time as we can with them. We talk to them, call them, send them letters, ask them on dates, etc. We do all we can to learn their likes, dislikes, wants and needs. Sometimes, we're simply there in silence as they need a friend. These things can be turned inward to ourselves to learn how to truly love ourselves.

It can be all too easy in this world of work, the 24/7 news cycle, e-mail, Facebook, smart phones and TV to lose sight of spending simple time with ourselves. If you think you haven't missed out on this, answer this question: When is the last time I took a quiet walk in a park, forest, lakeside, etc, by myself? Or some other kind of time that was solely for yourself, and no one else. Even if you were taking pictures, walking the dog, or just exercising, was it something just for you, unencumbered by duty and responsibility and the distraction of someone else? This is something I believe is absolutely vital for our personal well-being and mental health. Even mowing the lawn can be a time to use in self-reflection (My good friend Scott, who once owned a lawn service, said that the time to think to yourself was the best part of that job.)

Following closely with that is writing. It is a bit creepy to write to yourself, but writing for yourself is a great thing to do (hence this blog.) Not the obsessive writing of a teenager about her latest crush, but the simple action of putting your deeper thoughts and reflections into written or printed words. Writings about questions that reach in to your core and out to the hearts and needs of others. I can't begin to tell you how many times I've sat down to write about a subject, only to find at the end that I was incorrect about what I thought and felt about the subject. Writing like this is a great tool to take us to the next part, learning about our true needs.

We all know our likes, dislikes, and wants, but knowing our true needs can be a very different thing entirely. Sometimes our wants are diametrically opposed to what we really need. Taking a look at our relationships, especially those that seem to cause us distress and discomfort can go a long way in revealing our needs to ourselves. What is it exactly that is causing the stress? What is it in this relationship that leaves me feeling empty? What can I do to change this? And what does the other person truly need? Getting a good idea of these things can bring a lot of clarity to knowing what we really need for ourselves, and there are dozens of other questions that we can ask along with these to help dig into our real needs.

And, sometimes, I've found the best thing is to simply be present in silence, as if with a friend that is grieving. Like the old Wolf Brand chili commercial went, "When is the last time you got up early to just watch the Sun rise by yourself? Well, that's too long!"

Within and Beyond

2011-07-07T13:30:00.001-05:00

What does it mean to live the way the Bible teaches us? Is it really all about having the right doctrines and theology, so that a Christ-centered life will flow from that? Is it all about evangelism and missionary work? Is it all about observances? And how in the world do we get ourselves down to living the way God would have us live? These are simple questions that aren't answered so easily by anyone, and countless people in and out of the church are asking themselves these same questions. My view is that it isn't about how anyone teaches or lives but me. The only thing I can truly do is look within and reach beyond.

Any preacher can tell you how the OT was about the coming of Christ and the NT is the story of His coming and Kingdom, but I like to look at a deeper layer that speaks to my inner man and the way he needs to live. When you get through all of the books of the OT to the end of Malachi, you can't help but see the cry of all the prophets to look inside ourselves and return to God. Then, when we read through the NT up to Revelation, we hear the call to reach outside of ourselves and touch our fellow man. Inner and Outer. Within and Beyond. I don't like to look at the OT as only the law that has been fulfilled, just to be stepped past, but rather as wisdom to integrate into my inner being so that I can reach outward effectively. For me, the distinction between the OT and the NT is an artificial one made by man; the entire Bible is God's Word given to benefit both the inner and outer aspects of my life, each and every day.

"Let us examine and probe our ways, and let us return to the LORD", is how Jeremiah put it in Lamentations, and that is a great thing to do as individuals and congregations. In order to effectively and wisely reach out to our fellow man, we must have the insight that comes from these deep looks within ourselves. Some people may think of these inward testings and cleaning as nothing more than dredging up the past, but it can be a lot more than that, if done correctly and prayerfully. I can't begin to put into words that level of self-knowledge that I have gained through this; information about my behavior patterns, the motives behind them, and a true understanding of both the good, and more importantly, the bad that is within me. We do need to remember to utilize the counsel of others that know us well when we start these inward journeys, as it is all too east to either look at things superficially and say, "Everything's ok here!", or allow ourselves to sink under a distorted view of the negative things we will surely find.

Having done the inside work, we can turn outwards, to reach out to our fellow man. Jesus taught us to help our neighbors in both physical and spiritual ways, to help meet all of their needs to be a whole person. But just because we have set our sights on those "beyond" ourselves, doesn't meant that we can let up on looking "within." It's very simple to do things that seem to "help" someone else on the surface, but those actions may not actually be good for that person, or for ourselves. Are we helping this person to grow internally, or are we simply giving them what they need to stay stuck in the same internal spot? Compassion for others is a great thing, possibly the greatest thing we can give to our fellow man, but, we have to ask ourselves if our compassion is truly helpful. I have found the teachings of the Tibetan Buddhists to be very insightful here; they have wise teachings about "Idiot Compassion." We all know the saying of "Give a man a fish...teach a man to fish...", right? Is what I'm doing for someone a thing that is truly helpful, or am I just enabling them to remain in their destructive behavior? Am I helping them to grow into a person that can function on their own reliance of God, or am I keeping them reliant on an intermediate relationship with God through my actions? Am I helping to foster a false sense of self-importance, or a deeper understanding of their importance in doing God's work? Tough things to ask ourselves, but questions that must be asked, and can only be asked with a proper view of the "within."

Inner and Outer. Within and Beyond. Love God with all your heart and love your neighbor as you love yourself. Each of us must look within and reach beyond, and by doing both effectively, we find that God is in both places, Within our own hearts and Beyond us in the hearts of others, helping us and others to grow and be His children.

No Man is an Island

2011-07-07T06:37:00.001-05:00

Grant Snider's Incidental Comics is great today, and really hits home with me. Click on the image to see it larger.

Independence Day

2011-07-04T06:56:00.004-05:00

All across America, people are getting ready to celebrate our nation's Declaration of Independence from the rule of the King of England. Parades, parties and fireworks mark the event in all the states, and people are preparing for cook-outs and get-togethers in countless homes and backyards. The text of the Declaration of Independence will be read at many of these gatherings today, words which represent for many Americans a moral standard that our nation should strive to uphold. Some of these words can have a deeper meaning for Christians, if viewed in the proper light.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." Probably the best-known sentence in the English language, these words have been quoted countless times in the quest to make a better world for ourselves and our children, and they have left an indelible mark on the Church in America. But rights carry responsibilities, and as Christians we need to keep the final sentence of the Declaration in our thoughts when we go about living as members of the Church, and of our communities: "And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor." Jesus calls us to live this way with our brethren, but are we really living this in our churches? There are all sorts of missionary, evangelistic and charitable outreaches from churches today, as we seek to fulfill His will for us concerning our fellow man, but do we live this way when it comes to the person sitting in the pew behind us? I think that this is something that we all need to look at, as I have heard many people echo the sentiments I once shared with them, "I quit going to church because of the way the people treated me/someone else/each other."

These are very difficult words to live by, because they carry a price; a cost to our self-interests, our pocketbooks, and our egos. And I can't lay all the blame on others for failing to live up to them in our churches, because I haven't either. Yet, I can't remain silent on the subject as I see other people causing dissension in congregations and church leaderships harming members simply to further a financial agenda. I'm not going to stand up and champion a cause or defend an individual, as is so popular in our modern culture of fifteen minutes of fame; instead, I'll take my lead from many that came before me long ago and call out for each of us to look within ourselves and think. "Let us examine and probe our ways, and let us return to the Lord", Jeremiah wrote. Each of us. As individuals and as congregations. A lot of preachers in the emergent church are taking a long look at why people leave the church and how to bring them back, but I don't know if any of them have done so with a view to that last sentence of the Declaration.

"Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness" may be the best known words from the Declaration of Independence, but their importance pales in comparison to "pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor." The last three words are the most important, because when all of the material wealth is stripped away, all we have left to pledge to another is our Honor.

That Honor is sacred for a reason.

The Pitmaster

2011-07-04T05:52:00.001-05:00

One thing we Texans love is Barbecue. Not grilled meat, (although we love that a lot, too) but slow-smoked barbecue. Right now, I'm tending a brisket on my smoker, letting it cook over very low heat from a fire of Hickory and Mesquite wood. Normally, a brisket is a tough, fatty cut of meat that isn't very good for much of anything. But, with the right technique, seasonings, and smoke, it can be transformed into some of the best food you can find. Back when I was young, brisket was considered to be a "trash" cut of meat, and it was mostly discarded and made into animal food.

Briskets are covered with a thick layer of fat, and are difficult to trim out when raw. The lean meat under the fat is shot through with tough connective tissue that shrinks up and becomes almost bullet-proof when cooked in a conventional manner. But, an experienced pitmaster can use these bad qualities to make a mouth-watering masterpiece. The smoke surrounds the meat and covers it with a black crust, but it also penetrates into the meat, leaving a red smoke ring around the meat that lets you know it's going to have a rich and smoky flavor. The low heat and long cooking time lets the connective tissue convert into gelatin, leaving the meat tender and juicy, and allows the fat to coat the meat, helping to prevent it from drying out. What looks like a lump of charred meat when brought out of the smoker is quickly turned into glistening, juicy slices of meat that are the hallmark of Texas barbecues.

Isn't that the way God is with a lot of us? I'm not one of those people that is a part of God's Kingdom here like a Ribeye or a Sirloin is on a cow. I couldn't be cut from the carcass and be useful as a delicious cut of meat immediately, I had to get seasoned and tenderized from the loving technique that only the true Master of the Barbecue could deliver. It might have taken me a long time to become ready, but I now have a different flavor that you won't ever find in a T-bone, Ribeye, or Sirloin type of person.

I'm pretty sure that if Jesus had come to Texas, there would have been a parable about the Pitmaster and the Brisket.

Goodbye, John

2011-06-30T06:00:00.003-05:00

Sad morning to find out that my friend John Wilson had passed away on June 28th. I never got to share a meal and coffee or even shake his hand, but he was still my friend. We met online a few years back on the Aminus3 photoblog site that we were both active on at the time. Always willing to share his knowledge, he had a great impact on my landscape photography, and was a great encouragement to me. We had some good laughs playing tricks on Google's search engine to get his sites up to the top of the page, working it so well that we did it again when he returned to the west coast earlier this year (Google people, don't read that last sentence.)

John touched a lot of people in the Aminus3 community, making friends and spreading cheer to people all over the world, and the evidence is all over the community in the many tributes and messages posted. Even though it isn't a huge personal loss to me, his death has caused me to pause and reflect on the past couple of years in my life, as I have been doing quite a bit lately. Once upon a time, I was very active in that community, making online friends all across America and in many countries around the world. I was always amazed at the friendships that I had developed with people in Iran, a country whose people supposedly hate Americans.

What makes me even sadder than John's death is the loss of contact with so many people over the past few years as I have retreated into myself. It might be a conceited kind of thought, but when I'm gone, I want to be remembered by many people as a man that had reached out and touched people's lives and made a difference for the better. I'm trying to do that in a small way with this blog, but I know that I have a lot of work to do to achieve that goal, work both internal and external.

Isn't it wonderful that when people set aside political and religious differences to enjoy a shared interest that we can become friends and simply be human? John was an expert at simply being human, and I'm grateful that I was able to learn some lessons in that from him.

Godspeed, my friend, and save me a spot next to you watching that amazing scenery.

Communion of a Different Type

2011-06-28T07:55:00.003-05:00

Christians everywhere are familiar with the rite of Communion, the Lord's Supper. And while we enter that Communion with reverence and devotion, it seems to me that we have lost sight of the importance of what the disciples thought they were about to do, have a simple communal meal. While there is a renewed focus on sharing meals as a family, as a society, we've come to look at sharing meals with several friends as a special occasion sort of thing, and not an integral part of our lives.

A few years back, I started a tradition of having a large Sunday dinner for my closest friends and anyone that they felt needed to come have a good meal and some fellowship. We'd sit and talk, eat too much, have some coffee, take a walk around the block, and then return to our homes to relax for a nice nap. It wasn't a thing meant to bring a different closeness to our relationships, it was simply a way to celebrate our lives and friendships, and enjoy life in the way written in Ecclesiastes.

I haven't been able to continue that tradition due to my current work schedule, but I got to cook a dinner for two dear friends last week. It left a longing in me for those Sunday dinners I used to cook twice a month. Just sitting at a table, enjoying food, with a lightness of heart and simple conversation than comes from enjoying a meal with friends touched my soul in a way that was not immediately visible to them or myself. It was the communion between people, the connection of our humanity. It's far greater than feeding bodies, it is nourishing our souls.

I need to feel that commonality again, that connection of human souls. Over the past few years, I have become very anxious in social situations, especially with strangers, but almost as much with friends. The dinners with those friends that I love made such an impact on me in quenching the sense of separateness and isolation that are all to easy for me to retreat into. I not only need to renew that sense of connection, but today, I want to. I must find another day to arrange some meals to share with those people I care about, and who care for me. I also want to use this to reach out to some people that don't have any connection of a shared meal. Ask any newly divorced person how hard it is to learn to eat a meal alone, and you'll get about the same answer from any one of them.

Sharing meals with the lonely and isolated ones around us is a ministry that we can all engage in, if we are willing to step just a little bit outside of ourselves. I'm looking forward to restarting my meals here, and also to feeding a new set of friends once I move and start my new life. The good thing is that it doesn't have to be a big production designed to impress those at the meals (although I will admit that I love that feeling, too!) An elderly widowed neighbor, a friend newly divorced or separated, a single parent and their children, or a younger single person that lives away from their family are all people that need to be touched by our human connection, and possibly be opened to reconnecting with God. The way to reach people in today's culture is to bring them to feel that sense of Emmanuel, the sense of "God with us." What better way to start doing that than to share a meal and simply be human?

Being Perfect? Nope, Being Perfectly Human

2011-06-26T15:50:00.002-05:00

I've had a couple of people question me about this blog's title: "No one can be perfect! Only Jesus was perfect!, etc." The misunderstanding comes from two sides; misunderstanding the nature of Christ in relation to our own nature, and misunderstanding the meaning of the words "perfect" and "human", and how they modify each other.

To use a definition of 'human' that reaches farther than an anthropologist's definition means that we must include all of our weaknesses and shortfalls in that definition. We make honest mistakes, lots of them. We willfully choose to do things based solely on our emotions, instead of facts. We have trouble empathizing with others and base decisions that seem right at the time, but turn out to be wrong. I could spend days adding to that list and still never finish. All of this, our triumphs and our failures, are integral to our "humanness."

If you do some research into the Hebrew and Greek words that are generally translated in the Bible as a form of the word "perfect", you'll find that the original meaning is as much, if not more, of being 'complete' rather than 'flawless.' None of us can ever be flawless in this life, but we can be complete. Also, if we look at the phrase 'Being Perfectly Human" in this light, we can easily see that we can be perfectly human. Even if we wish to use 'flawless' as our definition of 'perfect' we can be flawlessly human, because the reality of being human includes all the mistakes and shortcomings of our being; the word 'human' is modifying the word 'perfect' rather than the other way around. ( I don't know about all of you, but those thoughts makes me feel a little bit better about myself.)

As to the question of understanding Christ's nature compared to our nature, we only need to look at the part that directly affects our our daily lives. Countless debates and dissertations have come down through the past two millennia on the subject of passibility of God. While that subject is of great philosophical interest to me and many others, it really doesn't have a very big effect on how I live my life relating to my fellow humans. All I need to know in this regard is that Jesus was Perfect. Period. End of sentence. Being fully God and fully human makes him something vastly beyond us, matters of passibility notwithstanding.

So why all of this focus on "Being Perfectly Human?" For decades, I spent my life in the pursuit of being imperfectly human. I ran from the possibilities available to me, and hid within the safety and surety of my failings. I avoided the fullness of loving to avoid the associated risk of pain. I tried to deny my innate need for with God and my fellow man. Today, living with the large chunk of my being ripped out of me from living my life imperfectly and limited is no longer acceptable. I want the fullness of being perfectly human, with all of the risks and rewards that come with it. And I believe that is a large part of how God would have me live, because accepting the fullness of my human condition brings me a greater appreciation of His glory and grace given to us.

Connection and Separation: Knowledge of Ourselves

2011-06-24T20:30:00.000-05:00

Over the past couple of days, I've had the privilege of watching two old friends get re-connected. The joy in their voices and the easy flow of their conversation has been magical to see. It's as if there were never any lost time between these two ladies (and it is so strange to type 'ladies' when I want to type 'girls', as we were all just kids the last time we were all together.) Yet as I have been listening to them this morning in their strong connection, I have been feeling a huge sense of separation. As bad as that may sound to most people on a superficial level, it really isn't, because I know myself and my needs much better now than I have in the past.

I am an Introvert. An extreme Introvert, on any scale you wish to use to measure Introversion/Extroversion. My two friends are Extroverts, and about as far apart from me on the scale as they could be. And I believe there has been some confusion/disappointment/misunderstanding between one of those ladies and I this morning, as most people don't have a good understanding of Introversion, since we Introverts are vastly outnumbered by Extroverts. But where the big problem lies is not so much in the understand of what is and Introvert/Extrovert, but in our understanding of ourselves and our real needs. We simply can't appreciate and understand the needs of another until we understand our own needs.
All of us have an innate need for connection with other people, and a need for a connection with people that can relate to our own needs at different levels. The purely social niceties of our acquaintances, the camaraderie of closer friends, and the deep understanding of those who love us are all necessary to be a healthy and integrated human. The need for some solitude and introspection is also vital to our well being, but understanding the levels of our needs is always a big issue in our relationships. Especially in the relationships that cross the boundary of Introversion/Extroversion.

Whichever type we are, we 'get' our own type very well. Problems occur in the understanding across those types, and to a greater extent on the Extrovert type, I believe. There are lot more Extroverts than Introverts (75% to 25% is a figure I've seen quoted and believe to be fairly accurate). and an even greater disparity of those of us on the extreme ends of the I/E scale (notice that I always list the 'I' first, where you will see more of the 'E' coming first in personality inventories; that's because we 'I's are outnumbered! lol) Big misunderstandings occur in these relationships for two different reasons: Introverts understand what Extroverts need, because they encounter more Extroverts, but they have difficulty using the social tools of the Extrovert very well, and, Extroverts have a hard time understanding what Introverts need, because it is so different from their own experience, and we Introverts aren't very skilled at explaining our needs.

Whichever side of this equation we are on, it is vital to have an understanding of our type and of our personal needs, as well as that of our partners. Good communication between partners is so very important also, and it is a skill that I am having to work hard at to develop properly. And it is even harder for me to figure out the amount of time I need to spend connected with my friends, my girlfriend, and God, and the time I need to be separated and looking withing myself. It's easier for me to see that time with friends builds to a more easily understood stress in my life; less so when I get the other three out of balance. Regardless, I can't have quality connections without my time of separation, and I believe it follows for others as well.

Slainte Mhath, and good luck to all of us in figuring out when we need to be connected, and when to be separate.

All The Roots Grow Deeper When It's Dry...Sort of.

2011-06-21T07:49:00.002-05:00

This horrible drought we're having in Texas this year made me think of an old David Wilcox song this morning. You can find the lyrics here.

Yes, that's what plants do, even when left alone without a landscaper or gardener to care for them. The catch is that a lot of plants, even large trees, will sicken and die when you get into a drought as bad as we've had here in Texas lately. Like what I've been doing for my tree's roots the past few months, we have to do some work for our souls during these long droughts, if we wish to bloom in the next rainy season.

I live in a section of southeast Texas known as the Big Thicket. It's a forest predominantly filled with pines, but plenty of hardwoods mixed in, with varying concentrations depending on the type of land and sub-forest clime. All the trees here, even the ones in well watered yards, are in a stressed situation. Many are dying already, stressed pines are susceptible to pine bark beetles, and hardwoods are succumbing to oak blight and other diseases. Aside from those problems, these trees are weakened in other ways, too.

The most obvious danger right now is wildfire. All over the area, raging fires have been popping up from even the smallest of sparks. The trees that don't burn down completely are left scarred and weakened for years afterwards. A less obvious danger to the trees can come later: hurricanes. Drought-weakened roots and branches fail in the high winds of a hurricane, destroying the tree and damaging nearby property.

Spiritual and emotional droughts leave us in the same sort of weakened state, leaving us vulnerable to more damage and possibly destruction. And just like taking care of a tree in a drought, we have to take action to minimize or prevent this damage.

For us, this means we have to do some work that may seem futile or pointless, but without it our roots will wither. One of the hardest things to continue doing is prayer when it seems like God has turned away from us. I can't stand the old platitude of, "God is answering your prayers, He's just saying no." That doesn't do anything to help the person having trouble with their spiritual connection. The real point of continuing prayer in these droughts is discipline. This discipline is the work that conditions the soil our roots grow in, and allows us to use the nourishment that is there. I've always had a hard time at continuing prayer when I'm feeling unheard, but it has always been well worth it when I have kept it up.

Journal writing (or blogging, as the case may be ;)) is another task that can be painfully difficult, but it's another discipline that can be of great benefit. I can't tell you how many times I've gotten some insight or a realization about myself while writing. My problem is that it works so well that I quit doing it when I feel better. No real discipline there, huh? It's a lot easier to dig deep with in yourself by writing when times are tough; there's just too many other fun things to do when times are good. But by writing when things are good, I find that it's easier for me to get down to some things inside that I need to deal with.

Volunteering/random acts of kindness/etc. Things like this tend to leave us with a sense of gratitude that helps immensely to heal us. But it sounds illogical, though; we should be grateful when people do or give things to us, not the other way around. But doing things like these make it a lot easier to see the things we already have been given, and give us a deeper gratitude for those things and where they come from. This kind of gratitude comes from a true deep humility, and give us an accurate perspective on who we are, who He is, and our respective positions.

I could go on all day writing about other things to help us in these dry spells, but I'll leave those to other posts. The point is that this is necessary work to do if we're going to make maximum use of the times of spiritual fulfillment in our lives, and keep ourselves from toppling in the winds or burning up in the fires that will surely come. Even if we can only manage to do one part of this work, it helps us grow and heal to do a little bit more work. Then, when our next Springtime comes, we can come back to life with a full set of leaves, instead of having our withered spots keep us from that fullness.

I'm praying for rain today. Both kinds.

The Least of These; The Least of Me

2011-06-17T07:18:00.003-05:00

I've been a fan of the band Caedmon's Call since they recorded their first album back in the mid 90's. There's a line from the song "This World" off of their My Calm, Your Storm album that has always stuck with me when I look at myself: "And the least of these look like criminals to me, so I leave Christ on the street." That's a pretty powerful call to look at ourselves and set out to serve and help the suffering and needy. Countless people have written about this call to service, so there's no need for me to write much about that. Rather, since my writing is more about my internal life and struggle for faith, I'm going to change some words in that song lyric and look at it from a different direction.

I realize today that a lot of the struggle that I have had with my faith in my life has coincided with a struggle with my self-esteem and worth. After all, when you hate yourself, you already know that you're going to fail at "love your neighbor as you love yourself." I know a lot of preachers and teachers will say that all you have to do is believe in Jesus, and He'll take care of all that stuff. That simplicity doesn't fly with people like me who have this kind of internal struggle going on inside. If you've ever been to a meeting of one of the 12-step programs, you've likely heard the phrase, "God will do for us what we can't do for ourselves." If we stop there without exploring the corollary, "God will not do what we must do for ourselves", then it's just another simplistic platitude. "For the dream comes through much effort", as the writer of Ecclesiastes put it, so if we're going to achieve this dream of spiritual wholeness and maturity, then it follows that there will be internal work. Hard work, and maybe a lot if it.

So, let's make that lyric, "And the least in me looks like a criminal to me, so I leave Christ on the street." On the surface, that kind of looks like the simplistic, "Just let Jesus into your heart and everything will be ok" stuff, but it doesn't have to be. If the way I treat the least of them is what I do to and for Christ, then the way i treat the least in me is the same. And for so long in my life, the least in me has looked like a criminal to me, so I've always stepped to the other side of the street and avoided eye contact, trying to stay safe. If I can't show proper kindness to the least within me, then I can't properly do it for anyone else. I might be able to put on a display for people to see, but the underlying motives aren't ones that bring growth and goodness to me. So, to take a look at how to do that, let's shift to a completely different analogy, and hopefully I can tie them together at the end of this post.

I've heard it said that God is like a Southern Gentleman; He'll knock at the door, but won't come in until we open it. And like a true gentleman, He'll sit in the living room until we invite Him to see the rest of the house. Most of us have rooms in our real houses that we don't like to let people see because they're messy and dirty, maybe even damaged. There's no way we'll let someone into that room until we clean it up to what we consider an acceptable level. It's the same inside of us. I'd love for him to come in those rooms and help me fix the sheet rock, plumbing and framework, but there's some junk I have to get out of the way first. Fear and laziness have kept me in the attitude of, "I've got some stuff to move in there, why don't you come back some other day?" That other day never comes, because I just shut that door and wish for it to just go away. But, if I can swallow my pride and practice a bit of humility, I can look at it as saying to God, "I have some repairs that need to be done, let me move a few things so you can look at it." Then something different happens; I'm doing some work, getting tired, hot and sweaty, but the He brings me a glass of iced tea (we are using the 'Southern Gentleman' analogy here!) He brings me a towel to wipe off my face, and when I've gotten enough of the junk out of the way, He can come in and go to work at what He needs to do in me.

So, what I'm really trying to say is that for me do the community work that Christ asks of me, I have to commit to doing some work in my own house at the same time. To truly have helpful compassion for those suffering out there, I have to show that same compassion to the suffering in here. And once I commit to that work inside of me, than I can look past that face on the street, and see the deeper suffering inside them. Because it's just not enough to care for only one part of the person, I have to care for both parts of people, the physical and the spiritual, and do the same for myself. When we look at the big picture of His teachings, isn't that what He's really asking us to do?

I'm not sure if any of this makes sense to anyone but me, and I feel a bit like the fool, multiplying his words, but that's what's rolling around in my heart and head this morning.

Shalom Aleichem, y'all.

24/7 Prayer Challenge - My Second Night

2011-06-16T05:35:00.004-05:00

Yesterday, when I went up to the church for my hour in the prayer vigil, I got to speak to Mindy, one of the church's co-Pastors for a few moments before starting. This morning I got to meet and speak a bit more with her husband Robert, the other co-Pastor. I've got to start forcing myself to drink some extra coffee in the late hours of my Saturday night shift and get back up there on Sunday mornings. I believe there is some very good work going on and some new exciting things that I need to be a part of.

My prayers and experience this morning were very different this morning than yesterday. I opened my Bible to Proverbs for some inspiration and went immediately to the bookmarks I had in chapters 2 and 9.

¹ My son, if you will receive my words and treasure my commandments within you,
² Make your ear attentive to wisdom, Incline your heart to understanding;
³ For if you cry for discernment, Lift your voice for understanding;
⁴ If you seek her as silver and search for her as for hidden treasures;
⁵ Then you will discern the fear of the LORD and discover the knowledge of God.
⁶ For the LORD gives wisdom; From His mouth come knowledge and understanding.
Proverbs 2:1-6, NASB

And

¹⁰ The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, And the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.
¹¹ For by me your days will be multiplied, And years of life will be added to you.
¹² If you are wise, you are wise for yourself, And if you scoff, you alone will bear it.

Proverbs 9:10-12, NASB

After a few minutes praying for my friends and loved ones, I set my heart to ask for His wisdom and guidance, keeping these verses in mind. I think that wisdom and maturity is a very important part of my prayers, especially in the things that happen inside of my heart.

First off, I have to remember that my time spent in prayer isn't always going to feel special and wonderful. Sometimes it feels like God isn't listening, and sometimes it feels like I'm not speaking clearly. Either way, I'm left feeling alone and unheard, although that really isn't the case. The wisdom I have to take to heart is that my feelings are just that and nothing more; feelings, not beings, and that they may not accurately reflect the truth of the situation. At that point it's my duty to trust, wait, and keep praying.

Most of us know that holding our tongues is a wise thing in many situations with other people (and on this point, you might question whether or not I have wisdom.) But, I've found that it can be a wise thing when approaching God. My favorite book of the Bible is Ecclesiastes, and the first three verses of chapter 5 have always spoken to my heart.

¹ ^[a]Guard your steps as you go to the house of God and draw near to listen rather than to offer the sacrifice of fools; for they do not know they are doing evil. ² ^[b]Do not be hasty ^[c]in word or ^[d]impulsive in thought to bring up a matter in the presence of God. For God is in heaven and you are on the earth; therefore let your words be few. ³ For the dream comes through much ^[e]effort and the voice of a fool through many words.

Sometimes (probably more times than I think), I need nothing more than to sit in worshipful silence; to just be still and know that He is God, if you will. I spent about twenty minutes doing just that this morning, and it left me with a powerful knowledge of my place, His place, and the vast difference between the two.

At that point, I was feeling a bit overwhelmed, so I returned to reading my Bible and offering prayers of thanks to Him for what He has done and whom He has brought into my life. Being at the end of my hour, Robert came back in to finish the nighttime vigil until the morning's participants arrived. We spoke for a few moments before I left, and I returned home in silence. Not just in the car, but also in my mind. No internal dialogue, no outline for this post, just the quiet stillness and the knowledge the He is God. A quiet of such a level that I have had to work at finding the words for this post, instead of it flowing easily to the keyboard.

I'm left with humility. Not the humiliation of my sins, but the humility of having a glimpse of the vast gulf that separates God and I, and gratitude that He allows me to approach His throne through the sacrifice of His son.

I don't think I will be speaking many words today.

24/7 Prayer Challenge

2011-06-15T04:55:00.002-05:00

The church that I used to attend before my weekend work schedule interfered has been having a prayer challenge this week. The challenge is to have at least one person at the church, every hour of each day of the week, to engage in prayer. When my friend Lindy first mentioned this a week or two ago, I was non-committal, but when she asked again this week I was glad to accept. I knew this would be a good way to re-kindle my inner spiritual flame, and to reconnect with a group of believers, albeit in a somewhat eremitic manner.

Since my normal sleep pattern is sort of chaotic and random, I decided to take the 3 a.m. to 4 a.m. time slot, as that's a very difficult one for people with normal sleep patterns to cover. I woke up about 2 a.m., got dressed and then went to the church, taking just my Bible for some referral and inspiration. One of the new Pastors was there already, maintaining the vigil in the late night. We chatted for a few moments and then I settled in after looking around for a few minutes. Different stations had been prepared with various ideas and methods of prayers from different Christian traditions, to help people gain inspiration and think outside of their usual pattern.

The night before, my girlfriend and I were discussing this and how difficult even fifteen minutes of prayer is for some people much less an hour. I wasn't too concerned with that as the church youth group I was a part of in my teen years often had long sessions of group prayer. I also have a good deal of experience in long sessions of Buddhist meditation, so I wasn't overly concerned about the time period, but I still had my Bible, In case I needed some inspiration.

Sitting down on one of the front pews, I began praying, specifically for some things that I had been asked to pray for by others. Stopping after what seemed like just a few minutes, I looked at my watch and realized that it had been almost twenty-five minutes. I opened my Bible to the Psalms and spent about ten minutes reading various ones to myself. Returning to prayer, again for what seemed like just a few minutes, I heard the door open as the next participant arrived and realized my hour at watch was over.

I quietly excused myself and went to the clipboards to sign up for the same hour tomorrow morning. Stepping into my car, I knew a peace and contentment that I had not felt in quite a long time. We're taught to pray for God's forgiveness as we forgive those who have wronged us, those against whom we have a grudge. There has always been one person in my life whom I have been very unwilling to forgive: myself. Having asked for help living a life of forgiveness, I was able to feel the beginnings of forgiveness towards myself, and for the first time ever, God's love and forgiveness for me.

It's not enough to just let other people be human, I have to let myself simply be human for the whole thing to work.

Treasure and Worship

2011-06-13T06:39:00.001-05:00

Shifting from one to the other, that's where it all started going downhill. You'll need to refer to the previous post to get some of the references I make here, but it's short and quick to read.

Last year, I wound up in a relationship that was better than any one I had been in before and better than I could have imagined. One thing that made it very loving for us was my decision early on to ask God to help me treasure her every day. The problem was that when you forget who you are, the work you've done, and that you're perfect at being human, it becomes easy to elevate others to a place that they shouldn't occupy in your life. She had become my object of worship.

When that happens, you can say goodbye to the closeness and intimacy in a relationship. The gulf between icon and devotee grows wider every day, and the devotee becomes smaller and weaker while the icon struggles under the strain of the unrealistic expectations. There is no more equality and partnership, only a hierarchy. I've seen it happen in other people's relationships before, even though I wasn't fully cognizant of what was happening exactly and the ramifications of it.

What usually happens when that kind of relationship crumbles is not a return to equilibrium for the devotee. Instead, the hierarchy is simply flipped with the icon becoming the object of scorn. Think I'm wrong about that? Take a look at all the popular songs over the years demonizing former lovers. Realistic assessment of the relationship becomes impossible as one's internal motives become inverted and projected onto the former icon. "I only wanted to love her" becomes "she only wanted to hurt me" etc., and then you're left with a recipe for failure in the next relationship to come along.

Even if you go into the next relationship with good motives, it's going to follow the same type of course unless you get yourself back into the equilibrium of being human, and letting others be human. The gap of "greater than : less than" remains, and the gap will eventually widen as the whole thing plays itself out again, possibly in reverse. I knew that intellectually, but just couldn't translate that into heart wisdom that would live in my life. I had a bad spot on my blade that needed some metal removed. (ok, you need to read the last two posts to get that reference)

Letting myself just be perfectly human allows me to work through my own mistakes without mental flagellation, and lets me accept the mistakes of others as we walk in our relationship. It's about partnership, not rank; equality, not hierarchy.

Wake-Up Call

2011-06-12T04:45:00.002-05:00

I've been processing some things over the past few days and had quite a moment of clarity as a result.

Fours years ago, I had an unrequited love knock me on my butt, so to speak. I was at what was probably the most healthy and whole point in my life, spiritually and emotionally. The problem wasn't so much getting knocked on my butt as it was my lazy refusal to get back up and go on with living my life. Fast forward through three years of isolation and depression, and I found myself with an even more amazing love, one that I couldn't have imagined. Things could have been beyond my wildest dreams, but the depression was still hanging on to me. Or so I thought.
The real problem within me was the laziness. Instead of doing the work on the things that needed to be taken care of, and stepping back into the good internal life that I once had, I simply waited for these things to be cured by osmosis. Doesn't really work that way, does it?

A couple of hours ago, I realized that the happiness and goodness I once had in my life was still there, waiting for me to stand up and take ownership of it. I have some new wounds to work on healing now, but the old wounds that I had worked on are healed; I was merely deluding myself by rubbing on the scars and telling myself they were still bleeding.

I remember now that I am absolutely perfect at one thing: being human. I make mistakes, have flaws that need work, and dull edges that need sharpening. I remember how to use the tools I was once given, and where His tool room and infirmary are. I remember now that good interpersonal relationships start with a good relationship with myself and God, and I'm ready to get back to work on those.

I have some bridges to rebuild from the past few years. Some were burned, others fell apart from neglect and disrepair. I'm very thankful for the people that have built bridges reaching out to my isolation these past couple of years. They know who they are, and I love them dearly.

The birds are beginning to wake and sing now. Soon, a new day will dawn across this town, and also in my soul.

Relationships and Sharpening Knives

2011-06-11T20:15:00.001-05:00

Sounds pretty grim and serial killer-ish, huh? Really, it isn't. Bear with me while I take you through some seemingly unrelated information to get to my final point.

One of my favorite Bible verses is, "Iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another." - Proverbs 27:17, NASB. We all get the gist of that verse, but I think a lot of people miss the most effective way to put it into practice in our daily lives. Why? Because most people have no idea how to properly sharpen and care for a knife.

Lots of us have in our kitchens a knife block with an assortment of knives, usually a housewarming or wedding gift (not many people go and buy a set like that, do they?) In that set will usually be a sharpening steel...steel, not stone or ceramic. The catch is that it's not a sharpening steel, it's a honing steel. What's the difference between sharpening and honing?

If you look at a sharp knife edge under a microscope, you'll see that it isn't smooth, but almost serrated looking at that level. A series of minute nicks and peaks. As you use that sharp knife for a while, and notice that it isn't cutting as well as it did when it was new, you'd see the same tiny grooves, but you'd notice that the peaks are getting bent over to one side or the other. To get it back up to par, you run it along your honing steel, and those peaks get bent back straight, and the knife is good to go again. It's daily maintenance that any chef or butcher does to their knives. That's what honing is, and all that the steel will do; straighten the edge back out. The thing is that it doesn't make the blade like new, as eventually some of those peaks will break off, leaving a bigger nick.

After a while, the steel won't bring the knife back up to the state of sharpness it should be in. It may be usable for a bit, but it will need more and more honing to keep it that way, eventually needing to hit the steel after every slice: the knife has become dull. On a dull knife, these nicks are much bigger, sometimes visible to the naked eye. Once a knife gets to that point, no amount of work on the steel will ever sharpen it; you have to put it on stone. A sharpening stone removes metal from the blade to make a new cutting surface, and most well used knives need to be put to a stone at least once a year. The amount of metal that has to be removed depends on how dull the knife is. The catch here is that if the only tool you use to keep your knife sharp is a stone, then eventually you won't have much blade left, and the knife can't do it's job properly. Both the steel and the stone are necessary to keep the knife like new.

To get a good edge on the dull knife requires stone, but you just can't smack a knife haphazardly against a rock and expect a good cutting edge. The angle of the blade against the stone has to be kept constant, and the stone needs to change in coarseness as you sharpen. I use a Lansky sharpening system on my knives; the blade is held in a clamp, and the stones are guided by rods through holes to match various angles, depending on the knife's purpose. With this system, my most used knives are as sharp as surgical scalpels, and let me work quickly and efficiently to prep my ingredients. When I have friends come to cook with me, I generally don't let them use my Chinese cleaver, as I keep the blade so sharp that it's dangerous to use if you're not experienced with it. I have other knives of a more appropriate sharpness for most people to use.

The funny thing, though, is that a knife is more dangerous to use when it's dull. You have to use more force behind the blade to get the work done, and you're more likely to have the knife slip and stab or cut you. And when it does, the wound heals much slower and more painfully than a slice from a sharp blade.

Isn't that the way people are in relationships? The ones that are properly sharpened spiritually may cut and hurt us, but the healing is faster and easier, and those that are spiritually dull make big gashes that take a long time to heal. What in the world does that have to do with the verse I quoted? When one of us is spiritually dulled, no amount of our clashing and working to sharpen the person will work to make it right. You have to have stone to sharpen the dull blade...a Rock, if you will.

If you use a long Chef's knife for a while, you'll notice that the whole blade doesn't usually get dull, just the most used part, or the part of the blade that has been abused by using it to cut on a glass or ceramic surface. You can slap the sharp section against the steel to touch it up, but the damaged part has to have stone against it. That's the way we are in our relationships. It's so easy for us to see the dull section, and to try and put our steel against it to bring it back to where it needs to be, but it will never work. Only the Rock can fix those sections, and only God knows how much metal needs to be removed. But we still have to be willing and wise enough to be a proper honing steel for God to use.

Perhaps it would be a good thing for us to keep that in mind in our relationships. That way, we can live that verse effectively and work together to keep our good parts sharp, and know when to let God work on the parts we can't fix together. That's what's on my heart today.

Today's helpful tip to go with this subject: When sharpening your knives on a stone, keep the stone oiled and rinse it off periodically with hot water. This keeps the pores of the stone from filling up with metal shavings and lets it keep working properly.