IMG_1209

I have an incredibly important decision for you to make today. Are you going to be an orange, or an onion?

To be fair, you probably will need some context to appropriately answer this question. So, let’s start with a brief download on the relevant qualities of, and key differences between, oranges and onions.

An orange has a colorful, durable outer layer. Some find it extremely difficult to fully remove an orange’s peel, leaving some to even proclaim oranges are not worth the trouble it takes to eat one. Onions, on the other hand, have a very thin outer layer that doesn’t really preclude you from seeing what’s likely to be inside. It’s very thin, and peels off nice and easy, offering little resistance as you try to open it up.

Once inside, an orange is pretty straight forward. You’ve got your slices and some strings and a few seeds, maybe. Once you’ve broken through the exterior, you have a full view. Onions are a bit more complicated. You just keep peeling back layer, after layer, after layer. It seems you never get all the way to through an onion. It has so much more depth.

An orange tastes nice and sweet and refreshing. It offends only the most picky of people. It can easily be overpowered in smoothie mixes. While an onion, well, it is a force to be reckoned with. It can bring tears to your eyes, burning little daggers of tears. It has a smell and taste that is bold and not everyone is on board with it.

An orange doesn’t really do much for other foods. It sort of does its own thing. Sure it can have an impact on things such as water, but it’s not a food you would use to bring out the best in other foods. Onions are different. They pull flavor out of the foods they touch. They enhance the aroma and the taste of many dishes.

Spiritually speaking, we all have a choice to make. Are we going to be like the orange, or like the onion?

If you are an orange, you look something like this. You wear masks almost always. You have a tough outer shell that is hard to break through, and even if someone is able to penetrate it, all they will find is sugary sweetness. You’ve buried the rest so deep within yourself that it might as well be undetectable. You don’t offend. You don’t really stand for anything. You avoid conflict. And you don’t really have any kind of big impact on those around you. You just look for people who are content to sit in a bowl of fruit and look pretty, while hoping no one will want to squeeze you.

Meanwhile, the onions among us are very different.  If you are an onion, your outer shell is transparent and thin, as if you are inviting people to see through and into you. The more someone gets to know you, the more layers they peel through and the more truth they see. You are a story with many chapters, and you don’t mind sharing every single one of them. You are powerful and bold, and way too honest for many people. You sometimes find that you have made someone uncomfortable because you refuse to be an orange like they are. On the other hand, you also positively impact many others and infuse their life with new hope and passion. You make them better, just because you share a small piece of yourself with them.

I’ve been an orange a lot longer than I’ve been an onion. And let me tell you. Being either is painful in this life. But only one has the potential to deliver you and to reveal God’s promises to you. I’ll let you guess which one that is.

*Writer’s note. Of course this metaphor is flawed, like most metaphors. Please don’t get hung up on any slight inaccuracies to the physical characteristics of onions and oranges. If you do, I commend you on your knowledge of round foods, but I am sad because you missed the entire point of this blog post. 🙂

 

IMG_0453

Several weeks back, I spent a weekend with a group of men. All of us seeking deeper insight about ourselves, better understanding of God’s plan for our lives. During a break in the action, a few of us were walking the trails of the retreat center and stumbled upon a labyrinth. As we walked single file through the pattern, to the center and back out to the perimeter, we made small talk but mostly relaxed and decompressed from previous high-intensity conversations and group work. It was my first time in a labyrinth. To be honest, outside of Greek mythology, I had never really been exposed to the concept of a labyrinth. All I could remember is that I thought a labyrinth was where they kept the Minotaur. Didn’t sound like a great place to be.

In reality, a labyrinth can be a very peaceful place, full of meditation, focus and relaxation. A place of clarity. And within the pathway of the labyrinth that day, I realized something revolutionary.

I’ve always experienced my life as a very complicated maze. It was overwhelming, all the choices to be made, all the paths I could take. I felt confused and astray most of the time, reaching ahead clumsily with my limited sight, fearing what the next turn would present to me, fearful of a wrong turn or a dead end. I was lost. I thought I needed to solve the maze. I thought there must be a way out.

It turns out that life is less of a maze and more of a labyrinth. At least for those who believe in God as their higher power.

A maze is a complex puzzle that includes choices. It can have multiple entrances and exits and most importantly, dead ends. A labyrinth, by comparison, offers a single, non-branching path, which leads to the center and back out the same way. One entrance. One exit. One pathway.

In Psalm 16:11 it says, “You will show me the path of life.”

Notice that says, “THE” path. The world would tell you that every choice you make sets the path for your future. It’s a choose your adventure kind of life. But God says there is a plan for you. A highly specific plan that has been laid out before you. Sometimes we might be standing still, or walking backwards or feel lost or stuck, but if we step forward in faith, God will deliver us to the center and back again.

The entire book of Jeremiah is about surrendering to God’s will as the only way to escape calamity. There’s only one path. It twists, and it turns and sometimes it seems like you aren’t going anywhere. Sometimes you can almost see your destination, and then it feels like you are headed in the wrong direction, going farther away from where you thought you were being called. But if you persevere in the path God has provided, eventually you will enter into the promises He has made to all who call Him their Lord and Savior. He has ordered our steps. He has carefully crafted the journey He is asking us each to take. It’s not a maze. There aren’t dead ends. There might be pain, suffering, trials, tribulations. Bad decisions. Slow to no progress. But it will all be used to advance you to the ultimate end.

In Proverbs 3:5-7 it says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your paths.”

Conversely, if we don’t place one foot in front of the other, believing we are walking within a labyrinth and not a maze, we will feel much differently about the situation.

In John 12:35 it says, “He who walks in darkness does not know where he is going.” Hosea 9:17 reaffirms this, suggesting that those who don’t trust in Lord’s plan for them will be “wanderers among the nations.”

When you trust that God is in control, the maze of life becomes manageable. You quickly begin to see that while the pattern is complicated, curvy and complex, it is indeed a path. If you are diligent and obedient, this path can lead only to one place. And you’ll be so glad you followed it. When we take things into our own hands, we can paralyze ourselves and convince ourselves that we are trapped in a maze and there’s no hope for escape. I spent way too much of my life convinced of that. I no longer waste energy or time worried about the next turn, because I know that the path I’m on leads me to God and His completely perfect will for my life.

I look back, and I can see how He used all the “wrong turns” and “dead ends” and “slow going” in incredibly powerful ways. Every time I returned my focus on Him, I moved closer to the center, no matter how far I had strayed or how long I had tarried. Life is not a maze. It is a labyrinth. The path you are on is ordained by God. Train your eyes on Him, take the next step forward and soon enough you will see what I have seen. I promise you’ll never be the same.

I’ve been reading a lot of Ecclesiastes lately. Re-reading it would be more exact. Although I’ve read it before, even blogged about it before, it speaks very differently to me now. For starters, the preface in my new Bible sets up what the book is all about, specifically defining what is meant by the term “vanity.” All this time, and I haven’t truly been defining that term properly.

According to my Bible, vanity is “the futile emptiness of trying to be happy apart from God.” I had previously associated that term with pride, vainness, self-centeredness, etc. Thinking about it as futile emptiness that comes from trying to satisfy yourself with anything other than God is much more powerful, and convicting, for my life. It is the definition of where I’ve been.

A few other parts and pieces from ECC that stood out this time through the scripture.

Chapter 1, Verse 18 – In much wisdom is much grief, and he who increases knowledge, increases sorrow. 

This has been so true in my life. Stuffing my head with knowledge about what God wants without changing myself, internalizing His words, seeking His will, has left me miserable beyond belief. Similarly in Chapter 6, Verse 9 it says – All the labor of man is for his mouth, and yet the soul is not satisfied.

Chapter 7, Verse 13 – Consider the work of God; for who can make straight what He has made crooked?

And then in 14, In the day of prosperity be joyful, but in the day of adversity, consider that surely God has appointed one as well as the other…I’ve spent most of my life resisting God’s call, fighting his crooked path and trying to make it straight. Trying to avoid the adversity and just receive the prosperity. It doesn’t work like that.

Chapter 10, Verse 15 – The labor of fools wearies them, for they do not even know how to go to the city!

I work so hard and stress so much, and He says, “Hey, you know you aren’t actually accomplishing anything. You are just wearing yourself down and taking yourself out of the game. And still you’ve done less than nothing. But that’s ok, because I’ve got it.” In chapter 9, verse 7 it says basically to chill out because “God has already accepted your works.” God will order my steps. He will light my path. When I go it alone, I’m just walking in darkness, feeling about as a blind man at midnight. By now, you’d think that I would know better than to think I know where the path leads.

Excited to read through ECC one more time. Wondering how God will speak to me differently the next round!

 

 

counterfeitSo, since I just restarted blogging here, I decided to comb back through the archives and revisit some of my earlier posts. At first, I thought to myself, “Well, that’s not half bad” and “Hey, I like that one.” And then as I kept reading, and became less self involved (i.e. admiring my own writing), I realized something. I was a fraud. For several years of writing blog posts here, talking about the way God was moving in my life. A friggin fraud.

It’s not that I was lying. God was trying to do all the things I talked about. He was sharing the insights with me. Showing me the way. I just wasn’t moving. Not really. You see, I had intellectualized the call of God. I just hadn’t internalized it. I was processing it with my head, but not passing it along to my heart. I heard the call. I just wasn’t really answering it.

It was easy to share about the magical ways God was stepping into my life. What I didn’t share was how I was not able, capable or willing to do what He asked, what He really needed me to do. Because of that, I pretended and pontificated. Without conviction. Real action. True transformation. I was full of hot air, but my heart was frozen solid.

I eventually got tired of acting like I was working God’s plan, so I quit blogging. I quit praying. I quit seeking. I drifted. Fell off the wagon and was run over by it. And in the darkness, there was no light to be seen, no God to be heard, no path to follow.

And yet, God pursued me. And a world of heartache later, I’m back in that place. He brought me all the way back to where He had me years before. Face to face with what He really wants me to do. I don’t like how I feel when I read those old blog posts. I can’t stomach the person who wrote them, that person who was taking God’s wisdom and tossing it around with wordplay, refusing to apply any of it to his own life. What a fraud! What a phony! What a counterfeit Christian I was.

So now it’s time to live in the truth and walk in the light. Live authentically. Love my God. Love myself. Love my family. Love people. None of which I was doing with any degree of success before. I’m ready, willing and excited to change that.

I was having breakfast with a friend this morning. We talked a lot about baseball, raising kids, life. Eventually, we had to make it around to the awkward topic of my journey, the war that I’m currently waging, as I fight my way closer to being the man God designed me to be. As we were chatting, my friend posed a thoughtful question to me. Likely intending it to be hypothetical.

“Why is it that we have to be broken to be used by God?”

I didn’t even hesitate in responding. Because I know. If we have any other path, any other hope, any other semblance of a plan that we think will work, we won’t rest in God. We won’t trust Him. We will do it our way. Before I could help myself, I wandered into a lengthy analogy, which I would like to share here. I think it explains fairly well why we must be broken before God can actually work with us.

Say you have a car. And let’s say that car has lots of things wrong with it. Dents along the bumpers. A door that won’t open from the outside. A busted headlight. Screeching brakes. A cracked windshield. Despite all these defects, these imperfections, we can still drive the car. And many of us do. It’s not running perfectly, but if we’re trying to avoid the expense or the inconvenience of having it professionally repaired, we can limp along with it for months or years.

broken carIt’s not until the transmission falls out of the bottom of it that we actually get help. It’s not until we are on the side of the road, broken down, with literally no other option than to call the mechanic and beg for his divine intervention.

It’s the same with God. We will walk, limp, crawl, drag ourselves forward. It’s not until we are broken, desperate and left on the roadside of life that most of us turn our eyes to God and say, “Ok, have thy will and thy way with me.”

That’s me. I was driving a wreck of a life. The headlights were out, the brakes were shot, my tires worn down to the wires. I was driving in the pitch black into oncoming traffic, not knowing where I was even trying to go. It was storming, and I had no windshield wipers. The winds were blowing, and I had no power steering. And yet, I just kept pushing the gas. Gripping the wheel. Driving.

It wasn’t until I hit the wall, or whatever it was, that I finally stopped. When I couldn’t go further. When it was literally impossible for me to do this on my own. The mechanic showed up. Answered my prayer. And began to restore me so I could fly down the road like a finely tuned machine on the way to a far better place.

I’m broken. But I’m beautifully made. And finally, I get to find out what that feels like, and what God wants to do with me. Amen!

God recently decided to remodel my life a bit. Ok, so it’s more like wrecking and rebuilding it. More of that to come. But for now, first let me say hello again. It’s been a really long time. I’ve missed this. Writing. Sharing. Seeking. Moving forward, I’m going to be doing a lot of that. And in a very genuine way for the first time ever.

Before we dig in to what God is doing in my life, let me say this. I’m doubting all the way. Fighting disbelief. Making God to be smaller than He is. And with every step I take, He is showing up. Bigger and better. And making me feel very foolish for continuing to offer up a mustard seed of faith, instead of a mountain of it.

I was reading in Isaiah tonight, chapter 66. And in verse 9, God asks a few really pointed questions:comingsoon

“Shall I bring to the time of birth, and not cause delivery? Shall I who cause delivery shut up the womb?”

Basically, what He was saying to me was this: Why in the world would I put you in this position, bring you to this place, put everything you have on the line, and then not deliver for you? Why the build up, the suspense? I could have just let you die quietly. No need for a public execution! Don’t you think I have a miracle to work here? Don’t you think this is all too well ordered to end in chaos? Too organized to have no point? Too divine to not end with power and grace?

I see his point. There is no need to let me labor like this if He isn’t going to deliver and bring the miracle of life into my world. No reason at all.

In the end, this is all I have to believe. I don’t have to know exactly how it happens, or where the road leads or even what the destination actually is. I just have to trust that through this labor, comes love. That He delivers. And in my life, it’s coming soon!

I look forward to more frequent conversations here. And if you are out there, feel free to say hi back!

wild tiger

Simple question. You come across the tiger in the picture above. Obviously wounded. What would you do? Would you approach him? No? Why not? He’s wounded badly. He’s in a weakened state. And yet, he’s as wild, dangerous and deadly as he will ever be. And this much is obvious to you.

That’s the truth about being wounded.

We have grown to see wounds as black marks. As weakness. As not being worthy, or simply just not being OK. But in reality, what you see in nature, is that wounded animals don’t act weak and helpless. They are desperate and dangerous. Wild eyed, focused and clawing for life. They are more powerful than when healthy. More intimidating. More fierce.

I have wounds. So do you. And for most of my life, they  have made me feel weak and less than. And like most Christians, I’ve gotten very good at suppressing them, at masking them, at insulating myself. Medicating myself. Calling upon idols and endless distractions. Comforts of everyday life. Numbing myself. After all, I couldn’t possibly embrace those wounds and speak through them. Become desperate and dangerous with my faith. Could I?

I was reading a passage tonight from Jeremiah 37:10. It says, “For though you had defeated the whole army of the Chaldeans who fight against you, and there remained only wounded men among them, they would rise up, every man in his tent, and burn the city with fire.”

I’m not a Bible scholar. So, to be honest, I can’t perfectly provide the context of this verse and the historical setting that surrounded it. But set all that aside and just read the passage. Look at the word “only” being used in italics for emphasis. A group of “only” wounded men, predicted to possess the power to burn an entire city with fire. Desperate and dangerous.

I haven’t written on this blog in over a year. Shameful. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been wrestling with lots of things. The fact of the matter, though, is I’ve been wounded. And instead of leaning into that, using it, fueling the desperation in a positive way, I’ve just medicated. Numbed myself. Compensated instead of challenged. Been a wimp instead of a warrior. Dead instead of dangerous.

I have a rekindled fire. I want to use my brokenness. My wounds. In powerful ways. The first of many being to show other people they are not alone. And that being wounded is not a sign of weakness. It’s a powerful piece of wisdom that can be used in brave, beautiful ways. I keep hearing the words, “You are not alone” rattling around in my head. I think it’s partly for me, and partly for me to say to others. So, I hope to find opportunities to do just that.

BUT, for starters. If you are out there reading this. And you’re either numbed up and feeling nothing, or very vulnerable and raw and feeling a wound that cuts deep. Let me say this. You are not alone. No matter what you have said, thought, felt or done. You are not alone. And neither am I.

 

 

 

 

jcollinsI read something today that struck me, so I’m sharing it here with you.

The most recent issue of Sports Illustrated includes a groundbreaking article. It is the story of Jason Collins who, with the publishing of the column, became the first American pro athlete to publicly declare that he is gay. This is not a blog post to opine on the significance of his announcement. Nor is it an essay debating the Christian response to homosexual lifestyles. In fact, Jason’s sexual preference has little to nothing to do with what I’m saying here. His announcement isn’t what struck me. It was a specific excerpt from it that compelled me to post. During the interview, he says:

“No one wants to live in fear. I’ve always been scared of saying the wrong thing. I don’t sleep well. I never have. But each time I tell another person, I feel stronger and sleep a little more soundly. It takes an enormous amount of energy to guard such a big secret. I’ve endured years of misery and gone to enormous lengths to live a lie. I was certain that my world would fall apart if anyone knew. And yet when I acknowledged my sexuality I felt whole for the first time.”

Wow. Don’t know about you, but I’ve felt like that. Most of us have felt like that. Just take “sexuality” out of the last line. Leave a blank there, and write in your specific word. Now read the paragraph again out loud. I bet it resonates. We all have pasts. Secrets. Scars. Wounds. Imperfections. Regrets. And most of us hide them away in the deepest, darkest corners. And in the darkness they grow. They get bigger. They seem uglier. And we expend great energy to keep them from the light. And in one way or another, they continue to wear on us. Influence our actions. Rob our peace. Interrupt our pursuits.

What I took from Jason’s story isn’t whether or not he should be proud to be gay. It’s that he was brave enough to shine light on the one thing he was most afraid to admit.

The next time you and I have something we want or need to share, something that we need to shine light on in order to be true to ourselves, I hope we’ll remember that everyone has secrets. Only the brave among us are willing to share.

kevin wareAnother March is gone, and the madness of the NCAA tournament is almost over. As usual, we’ve seen heavy favorites fall short and dramatic underdogs write a new Cinderella story. And as usual, we’re left in awe of a team like Florida Gulf Coast who comes out of nowhere to rock the house, and are disappointed with a storied powerhouse like Georgetown who can’t get the job done against a seemingly inferior opponent.

God loves a good underdog story. It’s like He just doesn’t want anyone out there to be happy with their brackets. He has shown over and again what He can do with a heart that is willing.

We sometimes think of God only as being loving, forgiving, kind, passive. Not as strong, powerful, active. We think of Him watching over us. But not warring with us. Yet this is the picture painted by David in 2 Samuel 22: 8-20:

…the earth shook and trembled…the foundations of heaven moved and shook…smoke went up from Him nostrils and devouring fire from his mouth…he bowed the heavens…He was seen upon the wings of the wind..the Lord thundered from heaven…He sent out arrows and scattered them, lightning bolts…

That is the power we hold inside. That is the same fuel that David used throughout his lifetime. It’s hard to think of a better example of an underdog, since every mismatch in sports history has been referred to as David vs. Goliath.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve had experience as the heavy favorite who didn’t deliver, the underdog that overcame the odds AND as the underdog who got crushed because he never believed he could win in the first place. I have a well-rounded appreciation for how things can go. Regardless, I also know that the power of God is within me. I just need to tap into it.

I also gained a little perspective from this year’s tourney. I badly bruised my thigh and twisted my knee last week playing pick up basketball. It’s as close to NCAA as I will ever know. Six a.m. in the gym. I was so bummed about having to go on injured reserve, not to mention the searing pain in my leg every time I stand up. But wow, I got off easy compared to Kevin Ware of the Louisville Cardinals, now didn’t I?

For those of you who don’t watch basketball, even in March, and haven’t heard the story, here it is. With his team on the verge of making the Final Four and competing for a championship, Kevin landed awkwardly and endured one of the most sickening injuries in the history of sports. His leg literally came through the skin. Sorry for those with weak stomachs. I won’t post the video here, but just let me say that this is a great example of perspective. My throbbing knee when I stand up. His leg, shattered in front a national audience. My injury likely prevents me from a couple of weeks of semi competitive, rec center ball. His prevents him from playing for a national title, likely a dream of his since the first time he touched a basketball.

So with all that I’ll leave you with this. I just filled out my worst bracket in 20 years. But I still have a chance to win my pool as we head into the final weekend, thanks to Syracuse. That just goes to show that nothing is impossible in God, and sometimes in March.

path

This is the road I was on today. Literally, the road. It appears to go nowhere. The trees crowd it, and you can’t veer off the path even if you wanted to. You’d either take out a branch or trunk, or roll into a steep ditch. When you get to the end, it’s obvious you’ve reached your destination. It’s the only way in, and the only way out. It’s not a straight road, but it delivers you, just the same.

At the end of this road today was a very Godly man, a seasoned and wise and insightful man. After our meeting, which supposed to be largely business, he prayed over us. His prayer for me was that I continue to be bold, to not be fearful and to walk the path God has for me. To keep remembering that, through God, I have immeasurable power and potential.

This prayer comes just a few short weeks after my latest moment of panic. God is speaking to me a little more clearly these days. It was audible and direct this time around. This man told me that God doesn’t get caught up in our limitations. He told Noah to go build the ark. He didn’t say, “if you can, or if you can find a way.” Of course, when you’re obedient to His command, everything else will fall into place and facilitate your success.

My path is, has, and will be curvy. And if I take my eyes off it, I can easily be overwhelmed by the tall, looming challenges and obstacles that flank me. But those are largely irrelevant. God has laid the path before me. It will lead me to where I need to be, and it’s the only thing that will.

I’m very thankful today for the unexpected intervention. It was just what I needed to hear.

Areas of Interest

Past Stops on the Journey

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 21 other subscribers