Finish Well

I'd like to confess something to you today: getting things done is important to me. There is a certain euphoria in developing and beginning new projects, new books, new habits; but seeing those things through is important to me as well. Crossing that finish line, crossing those things off my list brings a sense of accomplishment and-- I'll be honest --worth. I feel as though I have left my mark as a human being. There are myriad problems with this, however; one of them being, the thrill I get from beginnings causes me to overplan and overcommit, and the satisfaction I get from completions causes me to rush through those things, stressed and striving all the way. Henry David Thoreau, in his book Walden, says:

He who distinguishes the true savor of his food can never be a glutton; he who does not cannot be otherwise.

It is the difference between consuming for the pleasure of it, for the experience or long-term (in some things, eternal) benefit that can be gained, versus consuming simply to consume. 

Take for instance, our quiet time with the Lord. I hope that's part of your day, everyday. When you close your Bible or turn off the worship music, is your heart full? Are you uplifted and feel ready for whatever comes your way? Wonderful. But, what happens when moments later your youngest is, once again, refusing to get dressed? What happens when that first person cuts you off in traffic? What happens when you arise from your knees and the cat knocks the cactus you've been nursing for weeks onto the new carpet? If your answer is not mercy, prayerfulness, patience, perhaps you've been consuming without truly savoring; perhaps you have been pushing your way recklessly to the finish line without understanding or paying attention to the purpose of the race. Ask me how I know. Our time with Jesus each day, throughout our day, is meant to prepare us. 

When Jesus retired to secluded places to pray, He was seeking intimacy with His Father-- with our Father. I've noticed through our years together, my husband and I have picked up mannerisms and expressions from one another; some of his quirks have become mine and vice versa. When he and I are through having breakfast together, I don't go about the rest of my day floating on a cloud, experiencing some sort of exhilaration because we've been together. In fact, the clearest way anyone could suspect we've spent time together is by watching me be me yet, seeing glimpses of Scott in who I am. Jesus prayed His disciples (that's all of us who follow Him) would be one as He and the Father are one. We become one with Jesus and one with each other by spending time together, by knowing one another's character and relating to each other based on that character. Choosing to imitate, to copy behavior, may get us to the finish line more quickly, but it's an outward modification. We'll have missed the deeper transformation, the change that comes from the heart and is reflected from the inside out. 

That's what our time with Jesus each day is about. We quietly, obediently, humbly, submissively seek His will in that time, surrendering leadership to Him, listening for His voice that we might take on His characteristics; not that we might simply feel like we're ready, but that we would truly be ready, armed and obedient. I pray that none of us crosses that finish line before we have been prepared to finish well. I pray that none of us gluts our way to fullness, but seeks the fullness that can only be found in God's presence, in God's time.

A Dose of Reality

About a year ago, I tried my hand at writing Fiction. I'd taken a class with the idea of honing my writing chops in a new area and learning a thing or two. Prior to the course I'd attempted to write a few stories, but struggled, particularly with writing dialogue. It felt as though I was merely putting words on a page rather than "hearing" conversations taking place between people I "knew." The course showed me my imagination was keener than I thought, and that fabricating characters and events could be fun. I could make lions fly and ducks roar; I could make the poorest man rich and the richest man poor, but even those things had to be done within the framework of some elements of reality. Without something to relate to, how could a reader begin to imagine the story in their mind's eye? How could a reader know what "sniggletops" were unless I described them with words like "creatures" or "beautiful," terms we all understand? 

That's the trouble with a lie. A lie is a fabrication, but not without elements of reality. I can't tell you I robbed a bank without including things that are real: the bank, for instance, a business establishment in which money is kept. The existence of reality in a lie can be a deception in itself. It can be the very thing that convinces you the lie is true. I didn't say I robbed a tissue box; that would be absurd; but to rob a place where money is kept would make sense. The only element of fabrication you'd really have to get past is whether I did it or not, and you'd have to know me or know about my activities to know if it was true.

When the serpent appeared before Eve in the Garden of Eden, he didn't hit her with, "You know your Creator isn't telling you the truth," right out of the gate. First, he twisted the information and he tested her knowledge about God. She waffled, and he moved in for the kill: You will not surely die. For God knows that in the day you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil. Eve fell for the lie, Adam affirmed it, and bondage was born. John 8:32 tells us it is truth that makes us free, but in the infamous words of Pontius Pilate, "What is truth?" In John 14:6, Jesus says, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." To know Jesus is to know not just a truth-teller or one who values the truth. To know Jesus is to know Truth itself-- Himself.

Without knowing the truth-- the whole truth, a lie becomes much more believable, especially when fabricated by an expert known to be the "father of lies." Satan won't hit you with an outrageous accusation; he's going to dredge up your past. He's not going to lead you straight into disbelief without first making you question the value of church every Sunday or the integrity of your church family. Lies-- the ones that change the world anyway --are carefully, methodically woven with just enough truth to make the casual listener, the half-hearted believer, the nominal Christian fall for them. Effective lies aren't about roaring ducks and flying lions. Effective lies test our knowledge of the Truth, His words, His character, His history, and His love for us. But even the best lies are mere fabrications, fiction. Jesus is Truth.

In the '70s, Christians jumped on the old Coca-Cola slogan using it to point to Jesus as "The Real Thing," what the world wants. Well, the world doesn't want Jesus, and I'm not very certain the world even wants truth anymore. We've got nonsense like "your truth" and "my truth" now. But the world needs truth and the world needs Jesus. As Christians, we have to know the Truth; we have to know for certain. We're not Fiction writers; we are ambassadors of Truth. And we need to make sure, for the sake of those around us, we know what we're talking about.

A Prayer of Worship: Psalm 103:1-2

Let all that I am praise the Lord;

    with my whole heart, I will praise his holy name.

Let all that I am praise the Lord;

    may I never forget the good things he does for me. (Psalm 103:1-2 NLT) 

Lord God,

You are holy. You are worthy. You have done more for me than I could ever recount.

Unite my heart to fear Your name. Give me a heart with one purpose-- to bring You glory. Give me a heart with singularity of direction, the eyes of my heart remaining steadfast on You. Give my heart exclusivity in its desire; You are my greatest desire. Your word says that I should delight myself in You and You will give me the desires of my heart. May every place in my heart be given over in worship of You. May every piece of my heart burst forth in praise to You. You are worthy of all I have to give! Let all that I am praise Your name.

Bring to mind the things You have done for me. Praise You, O Lord! You have forgiven all my sins, every last one! Sins of commission and omission. Sins past, present, and future. Sins committed in ignorance and those in abject rebellion. You have compassion-- GREAT compassion on me! 

You have redeemed me from death, saved me from its eternal grip once and once alone, because of Your great might and the sufficiency of Your sacrifice. You have rescued me many times, known to me and unknown, from physical death. You have a plan and a purpose for my life. You designed and created me specifically with those things in mind. 

Your breath remains in my body, the first breath ever drawn by Adam. In You I live and move and have being. It is You alive now in me because of Your death and resurrection. Apart from You, there is no life. 

You crown me with Your perfect love and tenderest of mercies. You fill my life with good. You sustain me to do Your will and fulfill Your joy.

Your character has been proven throughout time: benevolence, righteousness, mercy, patience, loving-kindness, justice, forgiveness... Your faithful and unfailing love toward Your children is as great as the height of the heavens above the earth.

You no longer associate my sins with me. I am not defined by my sinful and mortal nature, but by the righteousness of Christ and my adoption as Your own blessed child. 

Despite Your holiness, Your being so far above anything I can aspire to be, You love me.

Despite Your perfection, despite having every right to look down on me as dust and treat me as my rebellion deserves, You have compassion on me.

Despite Your righteousness, You forgive me.

Despite all that You are, and because of all that You are, You love me.

Let all that I am praise Your holy name! 

In the name of Jesus, Amen

Are You Willing to Lay Down Your Life or Put up a Fight?

The day had begun to turn muggy and hot. I saw her sitting at the bus stop: a lady from our church. Just as I noticed her, I heard it:

Offer her a ride.

That would be nice. But she's a good distance away; not safe for her to run across this busy street to hop in. Besides, I can't just hold up traffic to wait for her.

She's going to pay for a bus, and you know she really doesn't have the money.

I'm sure she gets a senior discount or rides for free, right? She hasn't seen me for months and I'm not sure she even likes me. She barely talks to me. She won't want a ride from me.

Is this who you really want to be?

Maybe she's not even going home. Maybe she wants to ride the bus. I've got to get my errands done and get home to Mom.

You know I take care of Mom, right?

Okay, I'll make You a deal: I have to turn around anyway; if she's still waiting by the time I get around the block, I'll offer.

As I approached the intersection for the second time, I could see the woman still sitting on the bench. I pulled safely into the pharmacy lot behind her. Grocery bags were scattered at her feet and she was obviously feeling the mid-afternoon heat. I parked the car and approached her on foot. "Do you want a ride?" She began handing me her bags as she nodded yes. Less than ten minutes later, we were at her front door. I helped her with her groceries and said goodbye. Not exactly the Parable of the Good Samaritan, but there you have it.

In John 13:34, Jesus tells us, "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another..." That's cool; I can do that. But there's more. "As I have loved you, that you also love one another." Wow. We all know what Jesus did. Jesus' disciples were going to encounter persecution. They were going to be threatened with death. It was important that they supported and encouraged one another, that they prayed for one another; it was important they stuck together, willing to lay down their lives for one another if necessary.

In his book, Tough As They Come, Travis Mills talks about life in a military combat unit. He says there is a closeness not found anywhere else "because of the constant need to lay down your life for the sake of others. Because of the ever-present threat of bloodshed and death." The existence of danger creates the need for unbreakable bonds and unquestioning loyalty to one another. I have difficulty giving a sister a ride from the bus stop when the Holy Spirit prompts me.

Scripture tells us the threat of danger in this world is real. "Your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour." (1 Peter 5:8) We wrestle against "principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places." (Ephesians 6:12) This is not a place for the faint of heart. There is a constant need to lay down one's life, one's goals, one's ego, one's conveniences, one's privileges, one's time, for others in order to love as Christ loves us. There are dangers we cannot see, battles being waged we do not know, and sieges designed to bring the body of Christ to its knees. We can take Scripture seriously and follow Jesus in selfless sacrifice, or we can negotiate a simple act of service. 

I pray, the next time, I'll be more willing to lay down my life than I am to put up a fight.