Deal or No Deal

May 1, 2011 in Journey | Leave a comment

As I mentioned in my previous post, I have a decision to make. I’ve been praying, stressing, debating, turning to scripture.

Daniel 2:20-23 is a passage that continues to pop up for me. I keep digging in. Staring at it. Searching for significance. I’ll copy and paste the verses below for easy reference.

Daniel answered and said: Blessed be the name of God forever and ever, for wisdom and might are His. And He changes the times and the seasons; He removes kings and raises up kings; He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who have understanding. He reveals deep and secret things; He knows what is in the darkness, and light dwells within Him. I thank you and praise You, o God of my fathers; You have given me wisdom and might, and have now made known to me what we asked of You, for You have made known to us the king’s demand.

At this point in time, God has given Daniel the power to see and interpret King Nebuchadnezzar’s dream, which will allow him to basically be a hero and a prophet and a key part of God’s plan. He has given Daniel exactly what he asked for, and Daniel has received it fully.

What I immediately draw from it is that God will speak, reveal and equip. He will grant wisdom, he will guide us from dark into light. He will give us exactly what we ask for.

But many times I miss it. In fact, as I’ve been grappling with this major life decision the past several weeks, I don’t feel like I know what to do.

Why?

Well, I have three guesses. 

I don’t hear it. I am simply missing the communication, or I can’t fight my way through all the noise and distraction. I’m looking in the wrong direction.

I don’t get it. I’m not in a place in my faith walk where I can receive the message clearly. It is basically going right over my head. God says one thing, but I hear another.

I don’t buy it. I hear it, and I get it. I just don’t believe in it for whatever reason. I can’t internalize it, because I have doubts.

If I told you all of the signs I think I’ve received from God to help with my current decision, you’d probably laugh and say something like, “Oh ye of little faith.” I’ve all but paralyzed myself, because I don’t want to misread the signals. I don’t want to look back and realize I made some big mistake because I misunderstood God’s will. What if I’m not getting it?

My wife made a good point this morning, telling me that it was probably more important that I trusted God in the decision, no matter which way I went, and believed that He would see me through, whether it worked out the way I hoped or not. I know that to be true. But it hasn’t made the decision any easier. I’m not buying it, I suppose.

I’m continuing my prayer for wisdom, faith, perseverance and provision. Hoping I have a breakthrough and not a breakdown tonight. 🙂

The choice must be made tomorrow, so I’ll be sure to report back and share more specifics. Deep breaths in the meantime.

Gone Fishing

April 27, 2011 in Faith, Prayer | Comments closed

This will be a short post, as I’m pressed for time. However, I feel compelled to write it because a. I’ve been pressed for time a lot lately and b. God is stirring within me.

So, I’ve been wrestling with a major decision the past few days. Driving myself crazy. Weighing pros and cons. Asking God what to do. Just a few moments ago, I paused and realized I might be praying for the wrong thing. It’s just like me as a broken, frail human to cut to the chase and ask God for the specific answer. Don’t make me work for it, God. Just hit me with it. Make the choice for me. Tell me what to do.

We all know the adage about teaching a man to fish. You give him a fish, he eats for a day. You teach him to fish, he eats for a lifetime. Same goes for decision making. What I actually should be praying for is the following:

1. The wisdom to make the best choice.

2. The faith to step into that choice with confidence.

3. The perseverance to see it through to completion.

4. The provision that God promises to always make available.

That’s a much taller order than just sending me the answer. Just like teaching someone to fish is a heck of a lot harder than snagging a bass or a catfish (my favorite) and handing it over.

The reason I haven’t felt comfortable with either road that lies in front of me is that I’ve been treating it like a coin in my hand, flipping it into the air and asking God to call heads or tails. That’s simply not the way to go about it. I am now praying for the above. Wisdom. Faith. Perseverance. Providence. That will lead to increased peace and unity with God, as well as a deepening of who I am in Him.

No Doubt

April 20, 2011 in Faith | Leave a comment

Gwen Stefani has little or nothing to do with this blog post. But I love Gwen Stefani, particularly from her No Doubt days. Hoping to have some of those no doubt days myself sometime soon.

I always feel so guilty and hopeless, weak and hypocritical, when I doubt God. The rough spiritual patch I’ve been working through lately is mostly because of doubt. About me just simply not being able to trust God. And that doesn’t feel good at all.

Last week was full of doubt in a different way. Around every corner, it seemed God was bringing the subject up with me…asking me to meet it head on.

On Wednesday, I was holed up in a bookstore on the campus of MIT, momentarily escaping a torrential downpour. One book jumped out at me: Heaven is for Real. It’s the story of a toddler who has a near-death experience and comes back to tell us all about what’s waiting for us on the other side. One of the reviewers quoted on the inside cover claimed this story would “encourage those who doubt and thrill those who believe.” For some reason that quote struck a chord. I read it several times before placing the book back on the shelf.

On Friday, I randomly encountered a compelling blog post by Mike Friesen, The Importance of Doubt Within Faith where he says, “God wants us to express our personal and theological doubts about who he is, rather than suppressing them because ‘a good Christian doesn’t have doubts.'”

On Sunday, our pastor was talking about perseverance (one more shout out to patient endurance), and he said, “God meets us in our doubt. If we stay available.”

It can feel so frustrating when God is trying to move, and I just shake and shudder and dig in like a dog that doesn’t want to go on a walk. All because I can’t step out in faith. But doubt is okay. It’s part of the true Christian experience. It’s part of growth. It’s actually one way God works in us. Delivering even when we doubt. Building our faith through His faithfulness. In weakness, we find strength after all. I believe God is asking me to seize my doubt, get comfortable with it, use it as an opportunity to learn something about my belief system. To find a way to stay available even when I have no confidence, when I’m raging inside with nervousness and disbelief.

I’m currently sorting through some things with God, asking Him to overcome my doubt. I’m staying available. I’m expressing my doubt openly as I ask for His intervention and support. After several nudges this past week, I have no doubt what God wants me to be focused on right now.

Food Revolution & Other Revelations

April 16, 2011 in Journey, Prayer, Sin | Leave a comment

Earlier this week, I was frustrated and struggling. You may have noticed me heading to such a place in my recent posts. During a moment of quiet time, I specifically asked God to help me see why I was so stuck and why I was falling so fully back into my old routine, my old chains, my old idols. Over the course of 30 minutes, God spoke to me from Psalms and two “prophets” to help me make sense of things.

After my prayer for clarity, I opened my Bible. Randomly. And hit Psalms 132.  In that passage, it says, “Surely I will not go into the chamber of my house, or go up to the comfort of my bed; I will not give sleep to my eyes or slumber to my eyelids until I find a place for the Lord. A dwelling place for the Mighty God…”

Insight #1: I’ve been cramping God’s style.  I haven’t been making room for Him. Providing Him with space to work. That makes sense. I’ve talked before about how important it is to create space. I just haven’t been practicing the preaching.

I continued my pursuit, flipping back to passages in Jeremiah that I had read earlier in the week. In Jeremiah 4:14 it says, “…wash your heart from wickedness, that you may be saved. How long shall your evil thoughts lodge within you?” And then in verse 18, “This is your wickedness, because it is bitter, because it reaches to your heart.”

Insight #2: I need more elbow grease. Evidently, I still have some internal scrubbing to do. Sin digs deep. It sets in over time. You can’t  stop scrubbing when things look clean on the surface. I am in a continual fight to take back my heart, as we all are. Yet another example of the need for patient endurance.

I finished up in Jeremiah, and then another prophet of sorts spoke to me. Jamie Oliver. My wife was in the background watching Food Revolution, tracking Jamie’s efforts to improve the health of Los Angeles by, as the title of the show suggests, revolutionizing their food. I was about to close my Bible when I heard Jamie shout out in his snippy yet endearing British accent, “You have to ask the question: Where does my food come from?” He was referring to the quality of the meat being used to make hamburgers. God used that simple phrase to give me one last truth to chew on.

Insight #3: I need to check my food supply. In addition to not making space for God, and failing to continually clean, I am also malnourished.   I have been filling myself with junk food. Feeding on the same old lies. Curbing my hunger with things that temporarily satisfy but have no long-term value. It’s like eating bacon for breakfast, lunch and dinner (I could so do that by the way) and expecting to feel healthy and full of energy.

Ask and ye shall receive. God responded to me with a clear explanation of why I have been experiencing less than what He has for me. I’m not creating space. I’m not cleansing my heart. And in fact, I’m filling the space with additional junk, nourishing myself with things that will just further clog my spiritual arteries and further damage my heart.

I love that I’m in a place right now where I can troubleshoot with God. It’s so different from how I would have approached the situation in the past. Thanks to Jeremiah and Jamie for the words of wisdom.  Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to try and find something healthier than bacon for lunch.

Focusing on Roots, Not Fruits

April 8, 2011 in Journey, Witness | Leave a comment

Restless. Agitated. Anxious. That’s me lately.

None of my usual distractions are working. I’m not thriving in any of the areas or activities that usually affirm me and help me feel like I’m okay, that my life is okay, that it’s all okay.  All of the ways I self-medicate, they are all just a bit off kilter. Just enough to leave me with an unsatisfied pang and a highly sensitive mindset. All the things that define me are a little less definitive.  

It’s like my skin has been peeled. I’m a giant, exposed nerve. Everything is affecting me faster and more intensely than it should. I’m dangerously close to flipping the switch to off and retreating to the dark where the bright lights won’t strain my eyes and the chaos won’t pierce my ears.

I just wrote about patient endurance. How funny! Here I am feeling like I’ve lost all momentum. I’m tired. I’m half-defeated. I feel like I’ve regressed, that I’m still so much of the man I thought I’d left behind. That I’m so close to falling back into the same numbness and blindness that used to define me.  And that just feeds my frustration. I’m not really enduring very well. And I’m surely not being patient about it.

This is when and where I must take/make a stand. This is where I choose between two paths. One leads back from where I came. The other marches forward.  Again.

I was talking with a man from New York the other day who had just planted grapevines to test his wine-making skills. According to this aspiring vintner,  you actually cut off the grapes that grow the first two years so that you can build a strong, deep root system. Finally, in year three, you’ll get the kind of harvest you need to make a large barrel of potentially drinkable vino. Feels kind of like my story. There have been a few times when it seemed I was actually bearing some fruit, only for it to get cut off and removed. Like the grapes, maybe I needed to go through a few growth cycles that were focused not on fruit but on roots.

God is all about long-term success. He doesn’t want us to be flashes in the pan. 15 minutes of fame. Short-lived.  He doesn’t want us to be satisfied with a first year harvest that produces a little fruit, at the sacrifice of a much larger, sustained harvest later.

I’m still wrestling with God. Still clinging to things that make me feel good, safe, wanted, successful. Things that don’t require a whole lot of faith. Immature fruit that doesn’t require deep roots.  The danger in that is that it makes it really hard to keep the light switch on. It doesn’t require, or even allow, me to grow in Him.

I’m hoping to overcome this agitation soon. It’s clouding my vision and making it more difficult to clearly hear from God. It’s stunting my growth. One by one, I’m prying my fingers loose of the distractions, the substitutes, the cheap imitations. Trying to keep my focus on roots and not worry as much about fruits, at least for now. That will come with age, just like fine wine.

The Benefits of Long-Suffering

April 3, 2011 in Journey, Purpose | Leave a comment

The first 18 verses of 1 Timothy set up a storyline that has helped me keep my focus amidst adversity, both of my own making as well as external forces. Here are the highlights:

The purpose of His commandment is love, “from a pure heart, from a good conscience, and from sincere faith.”

When I stray from that, I “have turned aside to idle talk…understanding neither what (I) say nor the things (I) affirm.”

The Lord has “enabled me” and has “counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry.”

Although I was formerly a “blasphemer, a persecutor, an insolent man.”

His grace was “exceedingly abundant.”

That He might “show all long-suffering , as a pattern to those who are going to believe on Him.”

That last part is what I’d like to focus on for a moment. Long-suffering simply means:  patiently enduring wrongs and difficulties.  I take this both to mean my ongoing failures in my pursuit of God as well as the obstacles, trials and challenges the world hurls my way. Patient endurance.

It’s not enough to simply endure, to take my lumps while I flail about or lash out. I need to have patience as well. Patience suggests that I won’t get rattled or thrown off my game regardless of what I encounter. That I will be calm, cool, collected. That I won’t react rashly to situations. That I won’t over-exert myself to combat the world around me. Slow, deliberate, measured, consistent, even. Those are the descriptors I associate with patience.  Endurance is the physical will to continue. Patience describes the mental state and attitude required for success.

Three things about this passage comfort me greatly. The first is that He has found me faithful and thus will enable me.  He will equip me with the strength and skills required for what He asks of me. Secondly, He’s more than capable of doing it. In fact, He’s “exceedingly” capable of doing it. Lastly, He is clear about what I should expect: long-suffering.

 You could look at that and be really pessimistic. Gee thanks. Long-suffering sounds like a ton-o-fun. You could internalize it only for how it sounds. Long. Suffering. Like when I had to watch Gone with the Wind, remastered for the big screen. With apologies to Clark Gable, Vivien Leigh and the vast majority of humans everywhere, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” Most painful time I’ve spent in pursuit of entertainment. It felt like I was trapped in that seat for 48 hours straight.  

But I don’t look at it like that. When I look at it, it feels just like life. Everything meaningful you achieve here on Earth requires the proverbial blood, sweat and tears. You have to earn it. There is sacrifice. Pain. Commitment is required. Dare I say patient endurance? So why wouldn’t the same be true for pursuing God’s will? And since the payoff is far greater than anything to be achieved in this world, shouldn’t it require long-suffering at a different level?

Embracing that is powerful, because then the challenges just seem like hurdles that you get better and better at clearing. It’s like the burn you feel when doing sit ups or stretching yourself to run one more mile. Embracing my definition of long-suffering also takes away the pressure of perfection, because it suggests that you will consistently fall down, slide backwards, veer off course. It won’t be a straight line from here to there. And that’s okay. The point is that you have to methodically maintain your motivation and your momentum. Patiently endure.

I’ve found great comfort in that fact lately. I have been tripping up a lot. It’s like I’m so close, yet still so far away. But as I remind myself that God is currently “enabling me” and that long-suffering is just an expected part of the pattern, it’s enough for me to avoid being gone with the wind and instead get my second wind. To suffer long and endure patiently. With a better attitude than I had in that movie theatre. And a better outcome in The End.

Desolate Heights

March 30, 2011 in Sin, Witness | Leave a comment

www.livethesheendream.com

I can’t tell you how much time I’ve wasted on that website the past two weeks. Watching Charlie Sheen rapidly decompose before my very eyes has been sad but fascinating for whatever reason.

Coupling his story with some recently discovered scripture, I have a new take on sin.

I’ve always thought of sin in terms of darkness, back alleys, deserted corners.  Deep down in a hole. Somewhere in the underbelly. Something you wallow in. But then I read a few chapters in Jeremiah, and I came across several references to the phrase “desolate heights.” It made me pause and think about what desolate heights really meant. Our debauchery on display, high upon a hill in plain view? Another way of saying it’s lonely at the top? The juxtaposition of these two seemingly opposite words was painfully poetic.

Sin can look like success. You can be falling fast but look like you’re climbing.  Celebrities show us this truth on a daily basis. Famous, rich, accomplished, by all accounts they have reached the top of the mountain. And then you watch Charlie Sheen declare himself a “winner” as  he shares what’s left of his scrambled egg brain with a national broadcast audience.

We get lost within idolatry and materialism. Power and Greed.  Self-importance. Self-indulgence. Self-righteousness. Self-medication. As the old adage goes, we climb the ladder but don’t realize we have it propped against the wrong wall. We might find “success” along the way, but it can come at a price.

We go the way of a backsliding Israel in Jeremiah 3:6, who went “up on every mountain and under every green tree, and there played the harlot.”

When we reach our desolate heights, we are fully engaged in our sin. We are up to our eyeballs with it. And we are on display, high upon a hill for everyone to see. It’s ironic that in some cases you can reach your lowest low from the highest place around.

It is very easy for us to get caught up in satisfying self, or to be overwhelmed by sin, to climb all the way to the top of the mountain only to arrive at an empty, barren wasteland, miles away from God and what He wants for us. On a desolate height. But when you find yourself high on that hill, on that desolate height, what do you do?

I suggest you jump. Leap and plunge right back into faith, trusting God will catch you. That’s what I try to do. I throw myself toward God and His mercy. I try to get grounded again as quickly as possible.  I try to change my attitude by changing my altitude. It is indeed lonely at the top. And I have no desire to “live the sheen dream” at all.

Return to Me

March 27, 2011 in Relationship | Leave a comment

Yesterday, I was reading in Jeremiah, of how Israel had strayed far away from God, how it had been extremely rebellious. God’s request of them? Three simple words. Return to Me. That’s really all He asks of us. No matter how far afield we go, no matter how much and how often we mess up. He’s always there, waiting for us to return.

I used to write songs quite a bit. Music has always been an escape and an outlet for me. Between blogging and cluttered, busy days, I’ve barely had time to touch my piano, or the guitar I had almost learned how to play. But in trying to write this blog post, I decided to dust off my songwriting chops. Below is a working draft of a tune called Return to Me. Let me know what you think.  

 

RETURN TO ME

 

V1:

There I go again

So predictable

Falling out of faith

Forgetting how to walk

Caught up in the maze

Trapped within the walls

A million miles away

Refusing to obey

 

Chorus:

I’m blinded by the shiny things

I’m caught up in an old routine

I’m drifting out there aimlessly   

And still you say

Return to Me

I’m sliding backward every day

Best of intentions slip away

I contradict the words I pray

And still you say

Return to Me

 

V2:

There I go again

So predictable

I forsake my King

With choices that I make

These chains are heavy now

Constantly weigh me down

Been a thousand days it seems

Since I’ve been free

{Chorus}

 

V3:

There you go again

So predictable

You always hold your ground

Same today, same tomorrow

I run so far, so fast

But you never move

You are rooted deep

Waiting patiently

{chorus}

Wrestling with God

March 21, 2011 in Journey, Obedience | Leave a comment

Wrestling with God. It’s evidently a very popular expression. Turns out there are several books with this title, endless sermons posted online, quote upon quote. Until yesterday, I had never actually heard it used as a formal phrase.

My wife and I were at dinner, celebrating her birthday. A nice big steak and a tasty glass of Malbec, paired with some surprisingly deep and rich conversation.  We were philosophically discussing our lives, our purpose, where we are, where we want to be. My wife shared with me something her counselor told her earlier in the week. He said she was wrestling with God. Not fully trusting Him, not fully giving up control to Him. A few days later, one of her friends repeated that exact phrase to her, and it struck her deeply.  I thought it was all very interesting, particularly the concept of wrestling with God. I could relate to that. It felt like a really appropriate visual for much of my recent journey.

This morning in church, the pastor was talking about simplifying life. And he talked specifically about wrestling with God. There it was again. God’s definitely trying to communicate with my wife and I. The pastor talked about Jacob, who went from “heel grabber” to “man who wrestles with God.”  He talked about being called to run away from something really good so that we can receive the very best. That hit home with me.

God has been making my comfortable life very uncomfortable lately. I’ve been subjected to exceptional stress at work, and I’ve been waging internal wars. God has been tugging on me, pulling me toward something. And I”ve wanted to go, but in typical fashion, I’ve dug my feet in, locked my legs, wrapped my arms and started wrestling. The closer I get to whatever the “it” is, the more it scares me. My comfortable life. I make so many excuses for why it needs to be the way it is. Why I need to strive for that next promotion. Why I need to make a better life for my kids. Why I need to provide more financial safety. I’m paralyzed. Trapped. Extinguished. I’m out of the game.

Everything the pastor said this morning stabbed me like knives running to my bones. I’m caught up in materialism. I lie to myself, saying I need the next “thing” so that my family can be more comfortable. Meanwhile, I’m inviting more and more stress into my life. I’m teaching my kids that success in the world’s eyes is what defines them.  I’m constantly distracting myself and my family with stuff and more stuff. All the while, I’m just giving God lip service, turning coward the moment I think I might be asked to experience sacrifice.

I can feel God leaning in, pushing me to either take a stand or fall away. I can feel Him calling me to stop with the heel grabbing, reaching out and grasping for the feet in front of me. I feel Him calling me to stop complicating matters and getting swept up in the rat race, to do as it says in Hebrews 12:1 – to run with perseverance the race marked out for me. 

My stomach has been in knots for three weeks. External situations, coupled with my internal debates, have created choppy, rolling waters that toss me about and make me seasick. And I don’t even fully understand what God is asking of me yet. But I do know it’s reaching a climax, a moment of truth, an act of closure. And in the meantime, I’m wrestling with God. Trying to obey. To trust. And to potentially run away from something really good to experience the fullness of what He has for me. Even if that means getting really uncomfortable in the process.

Baking with Cow Dung

March 16, 2011 in Obedience | Leave a comment

Ha! That headline got your attention, didn’t it!

I’ve been reading Ezekiel’s story. In the early chapters, he’s seeing and hearing God very clearly, complete with great clouds engulfing themselves in raging fire and such. I’m impressed by his resolve and his obedience. And yes, cow dung will come into play later. Keep reading.

First God tells him to go and talk to these really difficult and rebellious people. Whether they listen or not, tell them about the Lord. Oh, and by the way, there’s no chance they are going to listen to you. Then He says, don’t worry, even though you’ll be in the middle of briers and thorns, dwelling with scorpions. Oh, and not a big deal, but they will probably put ropes on you and bind you with them, but I’ll make sure your tongue clings to the roof of your mouth so that you won’t voice disapproval. Oh, and the food I give you, I’d like for you to bake it using a pile of human poop, and…

At this point, Ezekiel finally says, “Hold up, wait a minute, um no way.”

And God responds with a compromise of sorts saying, “See, I am giving you cow dung instead of human waste.”

Well, ok then. That changes everything! 

Ezekiel was being asked to do a lot. And for the most part, he just kept saying yes. And doing it. Following what God asked of him. Being obedient.  I’m a little rusty on my Ezekiel history, so I’m hoping he doesn’t fall off the wagon before the end of the book. As it stands in chapter 6, he seems to fully understand his duty as a man of God.

In Ecclesiastes 12:9-14 it talks about the “whole duty of man.” It says not to over complicate the matter. Too much study is wearisome. There can books upon books and still no conclusion. (Yes, I see the irony in the fact that I’m about to throw one more book upon the pointless pile!) In the end, the answer is as simple as this: “Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.”

Fear God, as in respect Him, honor Him, defer to His will. And then keep His commandments, as in be obedient. Like Ezekiel was doing without hesitation, right up until the baking his food in human waste thing.

I may not have seen God in a flaming cloud, but I have seen Him in equally obvious ways. And He may not have asked me to risk my safety to deliver His word and to use cow dung to bake my food, but He has pushed me with requests that are hard and uncomfortable. I’m being stretched even as I log this post. My whole duty as a man is to simply follow the call. Stretch and be stretched. Keep His commandments as best I can. Whether I agree with or even understand the master plan He has for me. And yes, hopefully, poop plays no great role.

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