Running is something that I have taken up in the past couple of years of my life, although I haven't necessarily built up a great resume of success with it. But I do enjoy it. Here lately it has taken on more special meaning because I run as part of a team called Team LLF (http://www.lexlf.org/). LLF stands for the Lexington Leadership Foundation. They are a Christian ministry in Lexington, Kentucky that is sort of the man behind the man behind the scenes of outreach organizations and events in Lexington. They do a lot of things. I don't know all of the guys on the team, but some of my closest and most valued friends are on that team and I have had the privilege of running with them. And we are not all athletes either, or at least not very good ones. Some of us are. But some of us are ex-bums trying to change our McDonalds-three-times-a-week regimens and do something new and good for our bodies and minds. When I run with these guys I inevitably run better. I push further. I develop the mentality, "If he can do it I can do it!" and I give it a little bit extra.
Here lately I have had in a thorn in my flesh in my running goals, metaphorically speaking (actually it was most likely a metaphor in the Bible too so that may make my statement metaphorically speaking about a metaphorical speaking). The thorn is in the form of a shin splint. Have any of you ever had shin splints? They can be quite painful at times. But mine, however, is not really that painful. Instead it is kind of a nagging pain that is annoying more than unbearable. Shin splints are infamous for recurring, so once you have them they can be tough to get rid of. It has already taken me out of training for a half-marathon that I was training to run. I won't get into the details of what causes shin splints, but suffice to say that I have one, and I'm actually icing it with a bag of frozen generic peas from Kroger as I'm sitting here writing this blog. The shin splints have caused me to rearrange my running goals to shorter distances until I can build up enough conditioned strength to manage the greater distances.
So this morning my goal was to run a pretty quick and easy two miles. I ran three miles earlier this week and I felt a slight pain in the shins, only to the touch, so I didn't want to risk injuring them further with an intense run. But while running I felt better than expected and wasn't experiencing any pain in the shin, so I pushed on ahead to try and complete three miles. Because I had only planned on a two mile run, I had pushed a little harder pace than usual on the first mile. So finishing the last mile this morning was laborious because my heart rate was higher than usual for that distance. The last half mile I didn't know if I was going to make it. Now, I'm not ashamed to tell you that it is not uncommon for me to pray when I'm running. I pray for several reasons. One, it helps me to get my mind off of my own misery. Also, I genuinely believe that God has all power, and so if called upon, He may just choose to loan me some of His and help me get a little boost. Laugh if you want, but I'll take all of the help I can get. This morning, when I was struggling, I asked God to help me get through that last half mile. I was not happy about the way I was feeling. At first I told God, "God, help me to be willing to suffer a little bit this next minute or so in order to feel the gratitude of having accomplished the distance when it is over." That is a worthy prayer! And it has helped me on many occasions. After all, it is Biblical for us to embrace suffering for the sake of the greater goal! But on the last hundred yards or so, I didn't know if I had it in me. So, I literally invited Jesus to run the last stretch with me.
Those of you who may be agnostic, atheist, or skeptics can laugh at me and I will gladly accept the ridiculousness of this behavior. But it won't stop me from sharing my experience here, for I think it is worthy of sharing. When I invited Jesus to run the distance with me, I pictured in my mind that Jesus was running just ahead of me by about three yards, encouraging me to keep going. That is a familiar situation for me, as my running partners will share with any of you that I typically fall back just behind the pack without losing ground completely. But Jesus did something unexpected. He slowed down and came along beside of me. At this point, Jesus turned and said to me, "There now, that's better. Now we can do this together." And, as a side note, I would like to mention that in my mental image Jesus was wearing the typical garb that you see in any one of the many Jesus movies, long robes or shawls. However, he had on running shoes, like modern Nike's. I'm not lying to you. And I have never used illegal drugs. He and I both joked with each other about how miserable we felt (I liked knowing that Jesus wasn't particularly enjoying the suffering either). After all, Jesus suffered and died on the cross for me, and He certainly is under no obligation to go on a three mile run with me if He wants to take His rest. But He did run next to me, and it helped. But it still wasn't helping enough. So He actually laughed, took my hand, and we ran the last fifty yards hand in hand. To the drivers alongside of me on the street I would have only appeared as an ambitious and tired runner pumping my right fist. I finished the distance. And I didn't even puke at the end.
Now sometimes I am a bit of a spiritual whacko, and sometimes I'm not. I may have been a spiritual whacko this morning. If there is any atheist out there who believes that I simply conjure these things in my mind to give myself inspiration, then I will accept that possibility. Perhaps I do. But if that is the case, then at the minimum I will thank my Creator for giving me an imagination and willingness to consider Him, invite Him, and use my thoughts of Him as an inspiration to push harder. My point is simply that, whatever IT was, it helped me finish. And to me, it was Jesus in a woolen shawl and some Nike's.
My foot is now numb from the frozen peas, so I will leave you with these thoughts of Jesus, generic frozen vegetables, athletic goals, and spiritual nutcase. But if you get the chance to, invite Jesus to do something with you today; something routine, insignificant, uninspiring. Perhaps your task will gain significance, become inspiring, and shine light into your routine. The passers-by may look with confusion as you laugh in your car on your afternoon commute, or when you grip an invisible hand while leading a staff meeting at your job. But hey, we are all a little bit crazy. And Jesus was crazy too, at least in the minds of many who observed Him. But He had power to conquer death, and He did it with peace! And I could use a little of that.
10.08.2010
10.03.2010
The Bad News & Good News of Suffering: My Neverending Story
Sometimes when I read the Bible I lose the ability to receive a powerful message or lesson because I get wrapped up in the words and forget to pay attention to the story. Perhaps this is the consequence of a few years of seminary training where I learned to break down text into smaller and smaller pieces in order to better interpret the message of the whole; definitely a worthy pursuit. But the "story" is something different. In a good story, you begin to have a relational connection with the characters. You, as the reader, begin a journey with them when you pick up the book and begin reading the first page. When I was a kid I was enthusiastic about a popular kids movie called The Never Ending Story. In that movie, the main character literally began living the adventure of the book, and becomes the main character in the book as he reads page by page. It was a great movie featuring a lovable flying cocker spaniel. While you consider your next available opportunity to run to your neighborhood movie rental store let me tell you a little bit about why I began writing this blog with this point. I want to share with you an insight I gained recently when I engaged in a familiar passage of scripture that I approached as story rather than as theological information.
I was reading in Mark 8 this morning, specifically verses 31 through 9:1 (I would encourage any reader of the Bible to begin ignoring chapter breaks in their devotional times. They are handy for creating a universal system for Biblical citation, but they often interrupt some of the most powerful connections of the story. They are not intended to be chapters that begin a new "scene" the way that chapters work in a novel). In these verses we begin the scene with Jesus sharing some really depressing and hard-to-swallow information about what will soon happen to Him. As a matter of fact, the information is so dis-heartening that the gospel writer even bothers to explain, "And He said this plainly" (v32). In other words, Jesus didn't spruce up the information with roses, rainbows, and good tidings. It is hard for me as the reader to capture the "story" here because I already know the ending. So I tend to read Jesus' words and in my mind I just hear, "yada yada yada..Jesus will die...yada yada...Jesus will rise...yada yada ya I know already." But in the story, I remember for a moment that this is an intimate friend of Peter, James, John, Thomas, Judas the good guy, Judas the bad guy, and the other guys that I can't remember right now. Imagine if your best friend, favorite teacher, and personal mentor just sat down one day and said, "Look fellas, eventually I'm going to be arrested, thrown in prison, serve many years of a prison sentence for a crime I did not commit, and then placed in the electric chair. But I will be rising again so don't worry about me." I don't know what kind of friend you are, but my resopnse would be very similar to Peter's response in verse 33. The Bible chooses to describe that response as "rebuke".
Peter rebukes Jesus. Then immediately afterward Jesus rebukes Peter and says, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man." It is thoughts about this verse that I wish to share with you. I hope I didn't waste your time too much with the first two lengthy paragraphs, but I hope my perspective here on this verse will be of some value. When I was a younger believer I was offended that Jesus called Peter, Satan. It doesn't seem very nice does it? I have some different perspective these days. It helps a little bit if I separate our cultural perspective of Satan and remember the Biblical information about Satan. We tend to perceive Satan as the ultimate evil, the world's worst serial killer times one-hundred, who gets most excited about torturing you for all eternity. Some of that may be true about Satan. But the mental image of that description is not exactly the Biblical portrayal of Satan. Satan is first and foremost, an Accuser. His name actually is adapted from the Hebrew word that means "The Accuser". In Biblical story, Satan is not very interested in you or I. He is interested mostly in God; specifically robbing God of honor and glory and showing God that His creation is better run with power rather than love. He doesn't like the fact that people glorify God, so he wants to separate God and man from their relationship with each other in order to rob God of glory. Perhaps we think of Satan as being someone who loves to torture us because we see evidence of him torturing Job in the book of Job. But remember, the torture of Job was not about Job; it was about Satan proving to God that people's love for God was based on blessing rather than faith. The torture of Job was an experiment of variables and constants. Job had to suffer in order for both Satan to make (and fail to make) his point, and God to prove His point. In other references to Satan in scripture, we get evidence that he frequently tempts people away from God's will with the quick rewards of pleasure, and accuses both God and people by bending truth in a way that robs the opportunity for loving relationship between God and humanity. Satan is more concerned about robbing God than torturing you. But as people, we are often simply a pawn in his game. This understanding of Satan helps me to have a better understanding of Jesus' address to "Satan" in verse 33 of Mark 8. Satan is the Prince of this World, who is given power to reign over it for a length of time. The Kingdom of God is opposed to the World. So anytime something occurs that is not of the Kingdom of God, it is under the reign of Satan and could possibly be accused of being Satanic. Thus, Satan is addressed in Jesus' rebuke of Peter because Peter has his mind, "...not on the things of God, but on the things of man."
So what was so worldly about Peter's rebuke? That is the part of this story that most interests me. I can relate to Peter in this story a lot more easily than I can relate to Jesus. Peter simply did not like the news that Jesus laid before them. Again, in the "story" I have to remember that Peter had a relationship with Jesus. He loved him, had left everything for Him, and had been through some pretty meaningful experiences with Jesus. Jesus' news was not good news. Peter simply stood up for his friend. I would do the same. Why? Because I wouldn't want to lose my friend. I would not want the guilt in my conscious of knowing that Jesus suffered and died when I could do something to prevent it. I would do just what Peter did, and I wouldn't feel very bad about it either!
There is light in the darkness of this story, and it comes in the next part. After Peter makes his rebuke, Jesus calls everybody to huddle in close to Him because He wants to share some very important perspective with them. Maybe Jesus didn't want to just leave Peter feeling like crap because He just called Him Satan. It was worth a little bit of explanation so that Peter and the crowd around them understood where Jesus was coming from. So He says, "Okay, look everybody, come over here for a second, I need to explain something to you." Then He shares with them the words recorded in Mark 8:34-38. I'm going to focus specifically on the first part of these statements. Jesus says, "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel's will save it. For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?" Too often I hear these verses set apart and separated from the rebuke of Peter in the previous verse! Don't miss this connection my friends, it is of immense value to understanding the heart of Jesus! These statements were shared in response to Peter's rebuke, and in explanation of Jesus' return rebuke of Peter. This is the Story, not just some theological information.
Peter was referenced alongside Satan as thinking about human concerns rather than Godly concerns. That is not so great of an evil. It is understandable. After all, it is human nature to think as a human! Jesus knew that Peter loved him and cared about him. But Jesus needed to redirect Peter's understanding of love, a Godly love rather than a human love. Human love is but a dim reflection of Godly love. As humans, we cannot love without some selfish and self-serving purpose. We love and hope to be loved and cared for in return. Peter will stand up for Jesus and protect Jesus from death so that He can feel better about himself, as well as earn Jesus' love. Therein lies the error. Peter wants to prove his friendship to Jesus, to earn Jesus' admiration of their friendship. Again, not the worst of evils. However, the information that Jesus then shares with the crowd may be seen as a request. Jesus tells the disciples and the crowd that whoever really wants to be with Him must lay down his own life, suffer, and die for the sake of Jesus and the gospel. Wow, that really sucks! But again, if I read this verse without the context of the story, then I lose the connection. At the beginning of this story (verse 31) Jesus told His friends that He was going to lay down His life, suffer, and die, but also rise again! He is telling His friends that if they want to follow Him then they must do the same thing that He is going to do.
The implication here can only be caught when this event is read as a story, a beautiful story. In essence Jesus is saying to His friends, "Look, if you really love me and want to be with me, then don't try to protect me from this suffering. This suffering is my purpose for being here. Instead, please come with Me. Take the journey with Me. Don't let Me walk this path alone. Join with Me in the adventure and beautiful redemption that this act of sacrifice will offer to the world!" Jesus is inviting them to be a part of the same beautiful act of redemption that He is beginning. He is going first (thank God), and is offering the same beautiful climax of the story, the defeat of suffering and death, for all who are willing to walk the same road with Him. An invitation friends, not a rebuke! He is promising us that the rewards at the end of the journey will far exceed the suffering that we will share with Christ. Paul shares the excitement of this opportunity in Phillippians 3:8-11. Paul understood that suffering was the beautiful path that would lead us to the rewards of being reunited with Jesus in love and intimate relationship with God. Remember, love and intimate relationship with God is exactly what Satan wants to break! Hence, Peter was rebuked because, in his attempt to be a caring friend to Jesus, he was representing Satan's agenda...albeit unknowingly. But Jesus cared enough to explain and to provide Peter and the others with a greater opportunity of love. That invitation is offered to you and I as well.
There are many things I could do in my life under the drive of good intentions. After all, a lot of good deeds are accomplished without the guidance of God, at least on the surface level. But God has the power to take even bad events and turn them into good results. God makes all things good. In this story Jesus is sharing a very deep love with His followers, one that goes deeper than our self-centered understanding. He is asking them to hang with Him, to continue a little further in the journey with Him, to love Him enough to go through some suffering with Him. Why? Because being together is more valuable than doing good things just for the sake of doing good things. If I want to truly be with Jesus, then I must be willing to go alongside Him on His entire journey, even if it involves a little suffering. The great news is that I have the promise of the reward that Jesus makes available to me. Death is not the end of my story. Resurrection is not even the end of my story. The good news of my story is that there is no end to my story! I get to spend eternity with the One who is all-knowing, abounding in love, who will always provide for me in my needs, and allow me the priviledge of livin in a beautiful world alongside a loving God (look at the original condition of the world in Genesis 2 and the return of that condition in Revelation 21 & 22).
I am the first one to gripe and moan when situations in life get a little bit tough. Did you hear any moaning today? It was probably me doing a little suffering for Jesus. How easily I forget the opportunity that is available to me if only I am willing to suffer for a little while. This morning in church I heard a person who has had a lifelong struggle in drug addiction share verses in 1 Peter 5, including verse 10 which says, "And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you." What a beautiful promise. Sadly, I've spent most of my life angrily asking God, "Why did you give me this addiction? Why did you make me weak? Why did you take that relationship away from me? Why? Why? Why?" I weep to think of the missed opportunities that I could have been with my loving God if only I had been willing to suffer alongside Jesus. Today I sit here more grateful for my hardships rather than resentful of my difficulties. After all, they have lead me to nearness with God. And I need that nearness, I really do. I am going to suffer more in this life before it's over with, I believe. But I also will be even closer with God than I am now when it's all said and done. Thank You, Jesus, that You went first, that You took the worst of the suffering for me, that You will be there with me in the suffering of today and tomorrow, and most of all, that You will be with me in the celebration party at the end of the story!
I was reading in Mark 8 this morning, specifically verses 31 through 9:1 (I would encourage any reader of the Bible to begin ignoring chapter breaks in their devotional times. They are handy for creating a universal system for Biblical citation, but they often interrupt some of the most powerful connections of the story. They are not intended to be chapters that begin a new "scene" the way that chapters work in a novel). In these verses we begin the scene with Jesus sharing some really depressing and hard-to-swallow information about what will soon happen to Him. As a matter of fact, the information is so dis-heartening that the gospel writer even bothers to explain, "And He said this plainly" (v32). In other words, Jesus didn't spruce up the information with roses, rainbows, and good tidings. It is hard for me as the reader to capture the "story" here because I already know the ending. So I tend to read Jesus' words and in my mind I just hear, "yada yada yada..Jesus will die...yada yada...Jesus will rise...yada yada ya I know already." But in the story, I remember for a moment that this is an intimate friend of Peter, James, John, Thomas, Judas the good guy, Judas the bad guy, and the other guys that I can't remember right now. Imagine if your best friend, favorite teacher, and personal mentor just sat down one day and said, "Look fellas, eventually I'm going to be arrested, thrown in prison, serve many years of a prison sentence for a crime I did not commit, and then placed in the electric chair. But I will be rising again so don't worry about me." I don't know what kind of friend you are, but my resopnse would be very similar to Peter's response in verse 33. The Bible chooses to describe that response as "rebuke".
Peter rebukes Jesus. Then immediately afterward Jesus rebukes Peter and says, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man." It is thoughts about this verse that I wish to share with you. I hope I didn't waste your time too much with the first two lengthy paragraphs, but I hope my perspective here on this verse will be of some value. When I was a younger believer I was offended that Jesus called Peter, Satan. It doesn't seem very nice does it? I have some different perspective these days. It helps a little bit if I separate our cultural perspective of Satan and remember the Biblical information about Satan. We tend to perceive Satan as the ultimate evil, the world's worst serial killer times one-hundred, who gets most excited about torturing you for all eternity. Some of that may be true about Satan. But the mental image of that description is not exactly the Biblical portrayal of Satan. Satan is first and foremost, an Accuser. His name actually is adapted from the Hebrew word that means "The Accuser". In Biblical story, Satan is not very interested in you or I. He is interested mostly in God; specifically robbing God of honor and glory and showing God that His creation is better run with power rather than love. He doesn't like the fact that people glorify God, so he wants to separate God and man from their relationship with each other in order to rob God of glory. Perhaps we think of Satan as being someone who loves to torture us because we see evidence of him torturing Job in the book of Job. But remember, the torture of Job was not about Job; it was about Satan proving to God that people's love for God was based on blessing rather than faith. The torture of Job was an experiment of variables and constants. Job had to suffer in order for both Satan to make (and fail to make) his point, and God to prove His point. In other references to Satan in scripture, we get evidence that he frequently tempts people away from God's will with the quick rewards of pleasure, and accuses both God and people by bending truth in a way that robs the opportunity for loving relationship between God and humanity. Satan is more concerned about robbing God than torturing you. But as people, we are often simply a pawn in his game. This understanding of Satan helps me to have a better understanding of Jesus' address to "Satan" in verse 33 of Mark 8. Satan is the Prince of this World, who is given power to reign over it for a length of time. The Kingdom of God is opposed to the World. So anytime something occurs that is not of the Kingdom of God, it is under the reign of Satan and could possibly be accused of being Satanic. Thus, Satan is addressed in Jesus' rebuke of Peter because Peter has his mind, "...not on the things of God, but on the things of man."
So what was so worldly about Peter's rebuke? That is the part of this story that most interests me. I can relate to Peter in this story a lot more easily than I can relate to Jesus. Peter simply did not like the news that Jesus laid before them. Again, in the "story" I have to remember that Peter had a relationship with Jesus. He loved him, had left everything for Him, and had been through some pretty meaningful experiences with Jesus. Jesus' news was not good news. Peter simply stood up for his friend. I would do the same. Why? Because I wouldn't want to lose my friend. I would not want the guilt in my conscious of knowing that Jesus suffered and died when I could do something to prevent it. I would do just what Peter did, and I wouldn't feel very bad about it either!
There is light in the darkness of this story, and it comes in the next part. After Peter makes his rebuke, Jesus calls everybody to huddle in close to Him because He wants to share some very important perspective with them. Maybe Jesus didn't want to just leave Peter feeling like crap because He just called Him Satan. It was worth a little bit of explanation so that Peter and the crowd around them understood where Jesus was coming from. So He says, "Okay, look everybody, come over here for a second, I need to explain something to you." Then He shares with them the words recorded in Mark 8:34-38. I'm going to focus specifically on the first part of these statements. Jesus says, "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel's will save it. For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?" Too often I hear these verses set apart and separated from the rebuke of Peter in the previous verse! Don't miss this connection my friends, it is of immense value to understanding the heart of Jesus! These statements were shared in response to Peter's rebuke, and in explanation of Jesus' return rebuke of Peter. This is the Story, not just some theological information.
Peter was referenced alongside Satan as thinking about human concerns rather than Godly concerns. That is not so great of an evil. It is understandable. After all, it is human nature to think as a human! Jesus knew that Peter loved him and cared about him. But Jesus needed to redirect Peter's understanding of love, a Godly love rather than a human love. Human love is but a dim reflection of Godly love. As humans, we cannot love without some selfish and self-serving purpose. We love and hope to be loved and cared for in return. Peter will stand up for Jesus and protect Jesus from death so that He can feel better about himself, as well as earn Jesus' love. Therein lies the error. Peter wants to prove his friendship to Jesus, to earn Jesus' admiration of their friendship. Again, not the worst of evils. However, the information that Jesus then shares with the crowd may be seen as a request. Jesus tells the disciples and the crowd that whoever really wants to be with Him must lay down his own life, suffer, and die for the sake of Jesus and the gospel. Wow, that really sucks! But again, if I read this verse without the context of the story, then I lose the connection. At the beginning of this story (verse 31) Jesus told His friends that He was going to lay down His life, suffer, and die, but also rise again! He is telling His friends that if they want to follow Him then they must do the same thing that He is going to do.
The implication here can only be caught when this event is read as a story, a beautiful story. In essence Jesus is saying to His friends, "Look, if you really love me and want to be with me, then don't try to protect me from this suffering. This suffering is my purpose for being here. Instead, please come with Me. Take the journey with Me. Don't let Me walk this path alone. Join with Me in the adventure and beautiful redemption that this act of sacrifice will offer to the world!" Jesus is inviting them to be a part of the same beautiful act of redemption that He is beginning. He is going first (thank God), and is offering the same beautiful climax of the story, the defeat of suffering and death, for all who are willing to walk the same road with Him. An invitation friends, not a rebuke! He is promising us that the rewards at the end of the journey will far exceed the suffering that we will share with Christ. Paul shares the excitement of this opportunity in Phillippians 3:8-11. Paul understood that suffering was the beautiful path that would lead us to the rewards of being reunited with Jesus in love and intimate relationship with God. Remember, love and intimate relationship with God is exactly what Satan wants to break! Hence, Peter was rebuked because, in his attempt to be a caring friend to Jesus, he was representing Satan's agenda...albeit unknowingly. But Jesus cared enough to explain and to provide Peter and the others with a greater opportunity of love. That invitation is offered to you and I as well.
There are many things I could do in my life under the drive of good intentions. After all, a lot of good deeds are accomplished without the guidance of God, at least on the surface level. But God has the power to take even bad events and turn them into good results. God makes all things good. In this story Jesus is sharing a very deep love with His followers, one that goes deeper than our self-centered understanding. He is asking them to hang with Him, to continue a little further in the journey with Him, to love Him enough to go through some suffering with Him. Why? Because being together is more valuable than doing good things just for the sake of doing good things. If I want to truly be with Jesus, then I must be willing to go alongside Him on His entire journey, even if it involves a little suffering. The great news is that I have the promise of the reward that Jesus makes available to me. Death is not the end of my story. Resurrection is not even the end of my story. The good news of my story is that there is no end to my story! I get to spend eternity with the One who is all-knowing, abounding in love, who will always provide for me in my needs, and allow me the priviledge of livin in a beautiful world alongside a loving God (look at the original condition of the world in Genesis 2 and the return of that condition in Revelation 21 & 22).
I am the first one to gripe and moan when situations in life get a little bit tough. Did you hear any moaning today? It was probably me doing a little suffering for Jesus. How easily I forget the opportunity that is available to me if only I am willing to suffer for a little while. This morning in church I heard a person who has had a lifelong struggle in drug addiction share verses in 1 Peter 5, including verse 10 which says, "And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you." What a beautiful promise. Sadly, I've spent most of my life angrily asking God, "Why did you give me this addiction? Why did you make me weak? Why did you take that relationship away from me? Why? Why? Why?" I weep to think of the missed opportunities that I could have been with my loving God if only I had been willing to suffer alongside Jesus. Today I sit here more grateful for my hardships rather than resentful of my difficulties. After all, they have lead me to nearness with God. And I need that nearness, I really do. I am going to suffer more in this life before it's over with, I believe. But I also will be even closer with God than I am now when it's all said and done. Thank You, Jesus, that You went first, that You took the worst of the suffering for me, that You will be there with me in the suffering of today and tomorrow, and most of all, that You will be with me in the celebration party at the end of the story!
9.16.2010
Why Baptism?
First of all, it has not gone without notice that I am writing an update blog about baptism within a site that is entitled "Dead Man Rising". It is no coincidence either. The blog title is in reference to the hope that is available to us as men to rise from the ashes of our feelings of hopelessness, despair, inadequacies, and shame. Baptism is a reference to death and resurrection; another rising indeed. We are baptized as believers as a symbol of our death and resurrection that is made possible in the death and resurrection of Christ himself. I have been in the process of "rising from the dead" for quite some time now. But baptism is a symbolic act that I have not taken, mostly because it never really occurred to me to take it. Although now, I'm not entirely sure that is the only reason.
I became a believer in Jesus Christ as Lord when I was sixteen years old. I was at a retreat that took place at Trinity Baptist Church in Kerrville, Texas. It was not my home church, but it was the church that seemed to be drawing the largest crowd of fellow high school students. And so it became a great place to be to make friends and to fit in. I was participating in a youth focused weekend called First Love Youth Weekend. I believe my primary motivation for being at the event was to be near a girl that lit my heart up in a way that rivaled the Holy Spirit himself! I was unsuccessful with the girl. But when they invited us to make a decision to surrender our lives to Jesus Christ, and to accept Him as our Lord and Savior, I prayed and made that decision as I sat quietly in the church pew. It was the greatest moment of my life. Actually, I'm not entirely sure the reward of the decision was immediately evident. I do, however, remember journaling that evening in my nightly notebook. And at the end of that night's entry I very simply wrote, "Jesus, thank you for saving me today." I still have the notebook to this day, and could readily pull it out of its closet storage to show it to you. But the real evidence of salvation began to shine the next day. I was at a camping trip with my family. I simply couldn't ignore the joy that was inside of me. I felt alive. Free. I felt like I weighed less. I genuinely wanted to be helpful to my family. All I could listen to was Christian music, and that was a very large change from the music I had been allowing into my ears and my head. At the time I had only a casette of a local Christian band called Gabriel, and an album from Michael W. Smith. I can only hope that my Loving God has forgiven me for the poor musical tastes that I possessed in my early salvation (God bless Michael W. Smith). The point is, I changed that day.
There have been some times in my life that I have struggled with the reality of that decision that was made in the church pew at Trinity Baptist Church. The first time was in college. I had a difficult emotional journey through my college experience. I felt like my Christian environment had been ripped away from me and I didn't have any foundation on which to stand. It is true, I had become very relient on my Christian popularity rather then a steadfast reliance on God. But I was doing the best I could. At some point I remember mourning in my heart because I realized I had completed my full freshman year of college and could not remember uttering a single prayer to God in the entire year. I also was learning a great deal of theology and literatary criticism in my classes at college that were breaking down my faith in God and the Scriptures. All of this lead to a gentle toeing at the line of agnosticism. When I was fortunate enough to visit with old high school youth group friends, I would often argue with them about misconceptions in the Bible and in common Christian theology, trying to lord over them my new found intellectualism. It was really a blanket to hide my naked and vulnerable belief system that had been left with little security. I doubted my faith. I doubted that God really loved me. I doubted myself. However, in all of that struggle and despair, there was a dim glimmer of hope that remained from "remembering the joy of my salvation", as David refers to in the Psalms. I remember sitting in the lush green lawn that lay the middle of my college campus, alone, thinking about the journey that had taken place and wondering who I really was as a believer or non-believer. And there was one pressing Truth that I could simply not deny. I could not allow myself to ignore it. It was my Salvation. I could not argue against my own doubts in order to successfully convince myself that nothing had taken place when I asked Jesus to be in my life. The feeling and the change were too real, too dramatic, and too self-evident. I was left frustrated. So much had changed, but the memory of my salvation experience haunted me and would not let me go.
The next many years of my life have been a journey of doubts and faith, growth and injury, joys and hurts. I don't believe that all of the details need to be shared here at this moment. Suffice to say that I have travelled the journey that would earn all of the approval of anyone concerned with the appropriate actions of a really great Christian guy. I served as a professional youth minister, I attended a thoelogical seminary, I received a religious masters degree, and I taught the gospel to other people. I left seminary with a great deal of knowledge, and unfortunately, a great deal of pride. The knowledge protected me a little bit. But my pride could not save me. I also inherited a lot of the doctrines and philosophies of the United Methodist denomination. One of those doctrines that exists in that denomination is that baptism is a one-time deal, and we are not to dishonor God's work by participating in a repeat baptism. I was baptised as an infant. As much as I would have liked the opportunity to make a choice about baptism as a rational adult, I was not interested in dishonoring God by denying the work that was done in my infant baptism. I simply wanted to trust God and believe.
So why the change? Well, I've taken you through this entire lengthy exposure of my life to honeslyt tell you, I'm not really sure. The Gift Of Desperation (GOD) perhaps. I need God in my life even more than I need oxygen and water. Without oxygen and water I would surely die. But without God I would lose my very soul, the very purpose for which I was created. There are worse things that can happen in our lives than death. Sometimes pain can be so unbearable that death itself begins to seem a welcome alternative. Just ask anybody who has attempted suicide in their life. Paul tells us in the book of Romans 10:9 that, "...if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved." That day in the church pew at age sixteen I accepted Christ as my savior. I covered the "believe in your heart" part, but I never did confess with my mouth. See, other students at the event stood up, walked to the front of the church, and made a public decleration of their decision. I hid. I kept it to myself. I have kept a lot to myself in my life. I've hidden a lot also. I've hidden as much as an adult as I did as a kid. There are probably two main motivations for my decision to be re-baptized. The first is simply that it has been highly suggested to me by men in my life who have taken on the roll of guiding me and leading me in freedom and faith. They have been right about a lot of other things, so they tend to win my obedience in spiritual matters. Plus, they have what I want in their own spiritual lives. My friends in seminary had knowledge, and I wanted that too. But these men have something deeper than knowledge (Proverbs 3:5). And I want it. It's possible that I even need it. Secondly, I believe that I am overdue in publically giving God the praise for His resurrection power in my life. He has done, and is continuing to do, something in my life that I simply do not have the power to do. Like Lazarus who was left to rot in a tomb, I know the feeling of seeming a victim of stinking circumstances. Lazarus did not have much say in the matter. Jesus just woke him up. Like Lazarus, my powerlesness has been made most evident to me. Lazarus could not wake up from death. Only Jesus could raise him. And He did. And only Jesus can do for me what I so desperately need Him to do. And I don't even have much say in the matter. I find myself walking away from a dark tomb, my lungs breathing in clean air, my legs regaining a youthful strength, and my heart beating a strange new rhythm. My grave clothes begin to fall. Fresh skin is revealed.
I doubt that our friend Lazarus would stand before Jesus and argue with him about religious doctrine not allowing his return to life. Likewise, doctrine is not my concern in this matter. What does matter to me is the opportunity to give thanks, praise, and a public witness of Christ's resurrection power. He deserves this praise. And I need his life-giving spirit. And so, without much question, I will do this thing. I will speak of the saving work and the free gift of grace that is made available to me in the blood of Jesus Christ. I will go into the water in recognition that my life alone has but one certain destiny, death. And most importantly, I will rise out of the water and declare that Christ is resurrected from the dead, and so has the power to resurrect me. And may He continue to do so. Jesus woke Lazarus. But when Jesus called to him, Lazarus had to walk out of his tomb. I have a lot of walking to do. And I have many bandages that must be removed. But only Jesus could awaken me. In recognition of Him, I will be baptized.
I became a believer in Jesus Christ as Lord when I was sixteen years old. I was at a retreat that took place at Trinity Baptist Church in Kerrville, Texas. It was not my home church, but it was the church that seemed to be drawing the largest crowd of fellow high school students. And so it became a great place to be to make friends and to fit in. I was participating in a youth focused weekend called First Love Youth Weekend. I believe my primary motivation for being at the event was to be near a girl that lit my heart up in a way that rivaled the Holy Spirit himself! I was unsuccessful with the girl. But when they invited us to make a decision to surrender our lives to Jesus Christ, and to accept Him as our Lord and Savior, I prayed and made that decision as I sat quietly in the church pew. It was the greatest moment of my life. Actually, I'm not entirely sure the reward of the decision was immediately evident. I do, however, remember journaling that evening in my nightly notebook. And at the end of that night's entry I very simply wrote, "Jesus, thank you for saving me today." I still have the notebook to this day, and could readily pull it out of its closet storage to show it to you. But the real evidence of salvation began to shine the next day. I was at a camping trip with my family. I simply couldn't ignore the joy that was inside of me. I felt alive. Free. I felt like I weighed less. I genuinely wanted to be helpful to my family. All I could listen to was Christian music, and that was a very large change from the music I had been allowing into my ears and my head. At the time I had only a casette of a local Christian band called Gabriel, and an album from Michael W. Smith. I can only hope that my Loving God has forgiven me for the poor musical tastes that I possessed in my early salvation (God bless Michael W. Smith). The point is, I changed that day.
There have been some times in my life that I have struggled with the reality of that decision that was made in the church pew at Trinity Baptist Church. The first time was in college. I had a difficult emotional journey through my college experience. I felt like my Christian environment had been ripped away from me and I didn't have any foundation on which to stand. It is true, I had become very relient on my Christian popularity rather then a steadfast reliance on God. But I was doing the best I could. At some point I remember mourning in my heart because I realized I had completed my full freshman year of college and could not remember uttering a single prayer to God in the entire year. I also was learning a great deal of theology and literatary criticism in my classes at college that were breaking down my faith in God and the Scriptures. All of this lead to a gentle toeing at the line of agnosticism. When I was fortunate enough to visit with old high school youth group friends, I would often argue with them about misconceptions in the Bible and in common Christian theology, trying to lord over them my new found intellectualism. It was really a blanket to hide my naked and vulnerable belief system that had been left with little security. I doubted my faith. I doubted that God really loved me. I doubted myself. However, in all of that struggle and despair, there was a dim glimmer of hope that remained from "remembering the joy of my salvation", as David refers to in the Psalms. I remember sitting in the lush green lawn that lay the middle of my college campus, alone, thinking about the journey that had taken place and wondering who I really was as a believer or non-believer. And there was one pressing Truth that I could simply not deny. I could not allow myself to ignore it. It was my Salvation. I could not argue against my own doubts in order to successfully convince myself that nothing had taken place when I asked Jesus to be in my life. The feeling and the change were too real, too dramatic, and too self-evident. I was left frustrated. So much had changed, but the memory of my salvation experience haunted me and would not let me go.
The next many years of my life have been a journey of doubts and faith, growth and injury, joys and hurts. I don't believe that all of the details need to be shared here at this moment. Suffice to say that I have travelled the journey that would earn all of the approval of anyone concerned with the appropriate actions of a really great Christian guy. I served as a professional youth minister, I attended a thoelogical seminary, I received a religious masters degree, and I taught the gospel to other people. I left seminary with a great deal of knowledge, and unfortunately, a great deal of pride. The knowledge protected me a little bit. But my pride could not save me. I also inherited a lot of the doctrines and philosophies of the United Methodist denomination. One of those doctrines that exists in that denomination is that baptism is a one-time deal, and we are not to dishonor God's work by participating in a repeat baptism. I was baptised as an infant. As much as I would have liked the opportunity to make a choice about baptism as a rational adult, I was not interested in dishonoring God by denying the work that was done in my infant baptism. I simply wanted to trust God and believe.
So why the change? Well, I've taken you through this entire lengthy exposure of my life to honeslyt tell you, I'm not really sure. The Gift Of Desperation (GOD) perhaps. I need God in my life even more than I need oxygen and water. Without oxygen and water I would surely die. But without God I would lose my very soul, the very purpose for which I was created. There are worse things that can happen in our lives than death. Sometimes pain can be so unbearable that death itself begins to seem a welcome alternative. Just ask anybody who has attempted suicide in their life. Paul tells us in the book of Romans 10:9 that, "...if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved." That day in the church pew at age sixteen I accepted Christ as my savior. I covered the "believe in your heart" part, but I never did confess with my mouth. See, other students at the event stood up, walked to the front of the church, and made a public decleration of their decision. I hid. I kept it to myself. I have kept a lot to myself in my life. I've hidden a lot also. I've hidden as much as an adult as I did as a kid. There are probably two main motivations for my decision to be re-baptized. The first is simply that it has been highly suggested to me by men in my life who have taken on the roll of guiding me and leading me in freedom and faith. They have been right about a lot of other things, so they tend to win my obedience in spiritual matters. Plus, they have what I want in their own spiritual lives. My friends in seminary had knowledge, and I wanted that too. But these men have something deeper than knowledge (Proverbs 3:5). And I want it. It's possible that I even need it. Secondly, I believe that I am overdue in publically giving God the praise for His resurrection power in my life. He has done, and is continuing to do, something in my life that I simply do not have the power to do. Like Lazarus who was left to rot in a tomb, I know the feeling of seeming a victim of stinking circumstances. Lazarus did not have much say in the matter. Jesus just woke him up. Like Lazarus, my powerlesness has been made most evident to me. Lazarus could not wake up from death. Only Jesus could raise him. And He did. And only Jesus can do for me what I so desperately need Him to do. And I don't even have much say in the matter. I find myself walking away from a dark tomb, my lungs breathing in clean air, my legs regaining a youthful strength, and my heart beating a strange new rhythm. My grave clothes begin to fall. Fresh skin is revealed.
I doubt that our friend Lazarus would stand before Jesus and argue with him about religious doctrine not allowing his return to life. Likewise, doctrine is not my concern in this matter. What does matter to me is the opportunity to give thanks, praise, and a public witness of Christ's resurrection power. He deserves this praise. And I need his life-giving spirit. And so, without much question, I will do this thing. I will speak of the saving work and the free gift of grace that is made available to me in the blood of Jesus Christ. I will go into the water in recognition that my life alone has but one certain destiny, death. And most importantly, I will rise out of the water and declare that Christ is resurrected from the dead, and so has the power to resurrect me. And may He continue to do so. Jesus woke Lazarus. But when Jesus called to him, Lazarus had to walk out of his tomb. I have a lot of walking to do. And I have many bandages that must be removed. But only Jesus could awaken me. In recognition of Him, I will be baptized.
7.05.2010
Tragedy at the Bluegrass 10K
I want to thank all of you for your financial support and prayers as I prepared for the rigorous Bluegrass 10K. I am truly blessed by all of your help and support. There are a lot of races here in Kentucky, and unfortunately it seems I may have signed up for the wrong kind of race. I was unaware that most of the registrations for the race were actually top thoroughbreds. That's right, horses. I'm actually not too intimidated by horses, and feel confident in my ability to out run them, especially in the final stages of the race. They are used to large ovals and circles, and I possess the ability to think more clearly throughout the entire course of the race. Since this race was in downtown Lexington, I believed that they would easily become confused by cars and loud noises.
The results of the race were unclear around the halfway point. Many of the horses had dropped out around the third mile in order to feast on nearby landscaping vegetation. One fell victim to a cruel race spectator who had a tempting carrot. But a handful of the well-trained horses made it to the final stretch. I really had to put everything I had into the final sprint to the finish line. I thought I might have some advantage over them because I had no 80lb jockey on my back horse whipping me. But this appeared to work more to their advantage.
In the final stretch my legs gave out on me just as I made my pass attempt to the lead thoroughbred, an up-and-comer named Chariots of Fire. Chariots of Fire showed no mercy to me as I fell helpless and hopeless on the track before him. The end results were not pretty.
Again I thank you for your support. But I don't think I shall run this kind of race again.
The results of the race were unclear around the halfway point. Many of the horses had dropped out around the third mile in order to feast on nearby landscaping vegetation. One fell victim to a cruel race spectator who had a tempting carrot. But a handful of the well-trained horses made it to the final stretch. I really had to put everything I had into the final sprint to the finish line. I thought I might have some advantage over them because I had no 80lb jockey on my back horse whipping me. But this appeared to work more to their advantage.
In the final stretch my legs gave out on me just as I made my pass attempt to the lead thoroughbred, an up-and-comer named Chariots of Fire. Chariots of Fire showed no mercy to me as I fell helpless and hopeless on the track before him. The end results were not pretty.
Again I thank you for your support. But I don't think I shall run this kind of race again.
Running for the Prize
The holiday weekend is now over. Emily and I were able to enjoy a little bit of fireworks last night at the RJ Corman fireworks display in Jessamine County. We also spent an evening in Nashville with my great friend Jason Spangler. It has been a busy weekend.
But my primary purpose in writing this blog is to update all of you on my involvement in the Bluegrass 10K here in Lexington, Kentucky.
I woke up at 5:30AM on race day to eat a piece of toast and begin stretching to wake my body up. Yes, my body does not naturally wake up at 5:30AM unfortunately. It must be awakened. Just before 7AM Emily came over and we walked together to the race starting line, which is only about two blocks from my house. Emily took all of the photographs that you see here with this blog today. When I arrived at the starting line, I was able to find most of our team by the custom running shirts that they graciously provided for us.
Now for the race: There were more than 1,500 people in this race, so you literally hear the gun go off at the starting line about three minutes before you start moving. Sort of like being in a long line of cars in a traffic jam. I stuck to my suggested training, and kept a slow pace even at the beginning, knowing that I would need the reserves in the gas tank to finish the race. The toughest part mentally was around mile 3. At that point I felt as though I would love to stop running, but realized that I was still only at the halfway point. The crowd was thick, and that made it easy to stay motivated. God really blessed us with fantastic weather. There were about three days of relief from the humidity and heat, and the race landed right on the last day of that relief. Just after the 4th mile I found Eric Geary in the crowd, the LLF CEO and my training partner. He and I stuck together for the last two miles of the race. I think he and I both agree that helped us get to the finish line. At one point in the race an Anglican priest threw holy water on me and blessed me. I think that must have helped as well. Eric and I both finished the race just fine. I surprised him with an attempt to sprint to the finish line and place just ahead of him. However, the man is more competitive than me and he managed to out-sprint me!
We had a great time. After the race many of us celebrated together at a Dunkin Donuts just down the street.
I can honestly say this was a great experience for me. Prior to this race the most I had ever run was 5 miles. The 10K is approximately 6.2 miles. I ran the entire race without stopping to walk, other than very short walk breaks to drink the water that is provided during the race. But it is a great feeling to pass the finish line knowing that your training worked, and that you have accomplished something that you didn't think you could do only a few weeks earlier. The human body is an amazing thing, able to adapt and build according to the pressure we put on it.
It may sound strange to say, but when I run I often think of the idea of suffering as it is communicated in the scriptures of the Bible. Read Romans 5. Suffering is designed to produce endurance, and endurance character, and character hope. In the scripture we encouraged to embrace suffering in order to have a greater reward at the end. When we spend out lives avoiding suffering, we wind up suffering anyways despite all of our best efforts to prevent it. Suffering is inevitable. But when we choose to suffer for the long-term gain, we are better equipped to handle the suffering that we cannot predict or avoid. I think about this when I run, and I ask God to help me with the willingness to suffer in order to feel the joy of the reward at the end of the race.
For those who supported me in finances and prayers in preparation for the race, I give you all of my thanks! Thoughts of you encouraged me on the hard moments of the run. I didn't want to let anybody down! I'm proud to have finished. The official times will be posted on the website sometime this week. In the meantime, Emily tells me I came across the finish at about 70 minutes. Not bad, but definitely some room for improvement. Eric is already talking to me about a half-marathon in the Fall, so improvement may indeed be in order! God bless all of you!
7.02.2010
Formless and Empty
"Now the earth was formless and empty..."
This is the first description of the earth that a reader of the Holy Bible will encounter. Formless. Empty. The beginning of the story of our world as we know it. Very shortly after this awe-inspiring description we read a dramatic telling of how God basically threw drama into that emptiness. Churning waves. Islands and volcanoes jutting out of the oceans. Life bursting forth from the soil and out of every forest and lake. And then us humans, so small in the grand scheme of things, were somehow given a great deal of attention. After all, if you were drawing a portrait of yourself I bet you would really focus on the details. You would want to look as good as possible. And we are told that God made us in His own image. So, for the most part, when the time came for our creation God was making a self-portrait to some extent. I had this scenario running through my mind this morning. God made something out of nothing. And He apparently did it in a pretty short amount of time. And before long (at least according to God's watch) the earth was no longer formless and no longer empty. It was full of life, movement, danger, adventure, pleasure, and pain.
Sometimes in the dark times of my life I have been guilty of believing that God was not able to fix whatever loneliness or darkness was inside of me. Or perhaps I was guilty of believing that He didn't really want to fix it. Darkness can be so deceiving. You hear a voice, but you don't know from where it is spoken. And so it is when we are in darkness. Our own despairing voices begin to speak in our minds, and we easily confuse them with the voice of God. We begin to feel that God is no longer speaking a voice of hope to our dark hearts. We believe the lost voice in the darkness that calls us to despair, and so easily we may follow it deeper into the empty black space. A friend recently told me that in complete darkness even the flicker of a small candle could light the way. What an intriguing truth. In that sense, the darker the darkness, the smaller the amount of light that is necessary to bring vision to the path. I bet you see the metaphor here. Perhaps though we despair, in that desperation such a small glimmer of hope may keep us taking one more step towards the beaming sun that awaits. That glimmer may be in a phone call to a loving friend of family member. Perhaps it is in the opportunity to help another soul even among our own tears.
God created a world full of life and light from what was once "formless and empty." And yet, so often I doubt that He can bring hope and life into me. How small is my heart compared to this great earth of ours? If only God would breath into me, perhaps the flame of the candle would ignite. Maybe life would begin to rise up, and the adventure in my own heart would begin to play out its dramatic story.
Ever felt formless and empty? It might be the best place to be. God seems to like making something out of nothing. Light that one little candle. Take one more step toward the light.
This is the first description of the earth that a reader of the Holy Bible will encounter. Formless. Empty. The beginning of the story of our world as we know it. Very shortly after this awe-inspiring description we read a dramatic telling of how God basically threw drama into that emptiness. Churning waves. Islands and volcanoes jutting out of the oceans. Life bursting forth from the soil and out of every forest and lake. And then us humans, so small in the grand scheme of things, were somehow given a great deal of attention. After all, if you were drawing a portrait of yourself I bet you would really focus on the details. You would want to look as good as possible. And we are told that God made us in His own image. So, for the most part, when the time came for our creation God was making a self-portrait to some extent. I had this scenario running through my mind this morning. God made something out of nothing. And He apparently did it in a pretty short amount of time. And before long (at least according to God's watch) the earth was no longer formless and no longer empty. It was full of life, movement, danger, adventure, pleasure, and pain.
Sometimes in the dark times of my life I have been guilty of believing that God was not able to fix whatever loneliness or darkness was inside of me. Or perhaps I was guilty of believing that He didn't really want to fix it. Darkness can be so deceiving. You hear a voice, but you don't know from where it is spoken. And so it is when we are in darkness. Our own despairing voices begin to speak in our minds, and we easily confuse them with the voice of God. We begin to feel that God is no longer speaking a voice of hope to our dark hearts. We believe the lost voice in the darkness that calls us to despair, and so easily we may follow it deeper into the empty black space. A friend recently told me that in complete darkness even the flicker of a small candle could light the way. What an intriguing truth. In that sense, the darker the darkness, the smaller the amount of light that is necessary to bring vision to the path. I bet you see the metaphor here. Perhaps though we despair, in that desperation such a small glimmer of hope may keep us taking one more step towards the beaming sun that awaits. That glimmer may be in a phone call to a loving friend of family member. Perhaps it is in the opportunity to help another soul even among our own tears.
God created a world full of life and light from what was once "formless and empty." And yet, so often I doubt that He can bring hope and life into me. How small is my heart compared to this great earth of ours? If only God would breath into me, perhaps the flame of the candle would ignite. Maybe life would begin to rise up, and the adventure in my own heart would begin to play out its dramatic story.
Ever felt formless and empty? It might be the best place to be. God seems to like making something out of nothing. Light that one little candle. Take one more step toward the light.
1.22.2010
Trains
This past Christmas I had the opportunity to give my dad a gift that would tap into some of his kid-like emotions. Anytime trains have ever come up in conversation while my dad is around, I see him get this nostalgic look in his eye and he will say something very simple and sincere like, "I like trains." I like trains too. I don't fully know why my dad likes trains so much. I think it has to do with childhood though. As I recall, he had a train set when he was a kid. Maybe that's why I like trains too. I had two different train sets when I was a child. One of them was a GI Joe army train, and it came complete with lots of little GI Joe soldiers who were willing to fight with their lives and sacrifice their frail little plastic bodies to valiantly battle against the blue plastic guys who fought for the evil Cobra Commander. I had another train too. But they both pretty much went to the same destination. They just rode around in circles. I always wished I had more track. Lots and lots of track. Enough track to run the perimeter of every room in our little Texas house and duck under a few tunnels beneath beds and furniture too. But alas, I had to settle for the circle. The gift was worth it though. It was fun to see my dad get down on the floor and just watch that little train go around in circles. I mean, it was a pretty cool train. It even blows smoke and has a real whistle. Dad is pretty cool too. I'm glad he likes trains. And I'm glad he likes the train that I got him for Christmas.
I had the opportunity to go on a real life train this past week. Luckily our train didn't ride in circles. It almost did though. It actually rode in a straight line and then back again. But I enjoyed it. While my dad got his little Lionel train for Christmas, my girlfriend Emily got me a dinner reservation train ride on the RJ Corman dinner train in Bardstown, Kentucky. This train ride came complete with a white tablecloth dinner, great service, good company with other table guests, and an entertaining little murder mystery play. I've included a handful of pictures for your own enjoyment. If you ever feel the urge to take your toy train fascination and upgrade to the full-size deal, head over to Bardstown and enjoy a ride and a fabulous dinner. You can even buy yourself a matching toy train in the gift shop when you return!
1.09.2010
The White Crayon
Did you ever have one of those fancy boxes of crayons as a kid? Maybe as an adult? :) I loved crayons when I was a child. At some point in my childhood a family member gave to me and my sister who is close in age, a very large set of crayons that had every imaginable color, and then every color that would occur if every imaginable color made love to the other imaginable colors and created a bastard crayon child. Me and my sister both used and abused the crayons, coloring just about everything in site. This set of crayons met their unfortunate demise on the nylon backseat of a 1980's Chevy Impala on a hot Texas day. Who knew that the boiling point for crayon material sits somewhere around 98 degrees fahrenheit?
Did you ever have a white crayon in a crayon box set? I never really understood the white crayon. It frustrated me. It stands to reason that just about every coloring book in the great library of coloring book literature has white pages, or off-white, or dark-white. White. So in what case would I want to use my white crayon? I guess if I had more artistic ability as a 4 year old I may have seen the opportunity to use it as a highlight on a blue sky to compliment a scene with some fluffy clouds. Maybe a cat could have had a more interesting furry coat of cat hair. But mostly I just used the white crayon to attempt to color people who were, well...white. They just never looked right though. The white of the crayon didn't seem to match my whiteness as a white guy. Some of you out there may be a closer match to the crayon.
As I was driving out of my driveway this morning I noticed how white it is here in central Kentucky. We have had snow for about three straight days now, and we haven't had a daily temperature above 30 degrees in at least a week. In short, we have a good stack of snow on the ground. I like snow a lot. Most people don't seem to like it much. I guess because it is inconvenient. But it seems to me that the most beautiful places in God's great creation are also inconvenient. Most of the lovely places I have seen in God's world have required a hike, or a climb, or a drive. They usually aren't found right in front of my doorstep. Well snow is a little inconvenient I suppose. Although me and Nacho (the name christened to my beautiful and glorious four wheel drive truck) seem to do pretty well with it. But I like the way that snow sort of outlines everything in the world. The steps leading up to the front door of one of the nearby Victorian style houses is a bit more interesting because it is outlined with white. The tree branches could all be counted in the dim morning light because they are also highlighted by the thin line of snow that has been carefully drawn along its edge. The bushes and shrubs display a more creative artistic approach, as they are gently sprinkled with patches of white, like the frosting on one of those 6-per package sugar donuts that you get in a moment of weakness on an early morning road trip, or at least the spots that such donuts leave on your jeans during the drive.
I have written too long of a blog in order to convey this one simple point, God is a lot better at using the white crayon than I ever was. It always seemed so empty and meaningless to me. It was the crayon in the box that never seemed as worn down as the reds and blues. Around here God seems to save the white crayon for special occasions with us as well. We only see a good snowfall about three times per-year. But I enjoy the white crayon in God's hands. I will gladly be inconvenienced today in order to let Him continue his wonderful work of art.
Did you ever have a white crayon in a crayon box set? I never really understood the white crayon. It frustrated me. It stands to reason that just about every coloring book in the great library of coloring book literature has white pages, or off-white, or dark-white. White. So in what case would I want to use my white crayon? I guess if I had more artistic ability as a 4 year old I may have seen the opportunity to use it as a highlight on a blue sky to compliment a scene with some fluffy clouds. Maybe a cat could have had a more interesting furry coat of cat hair. But mostly I just used the white crayon to attempt to color people who were, well...white. They just never looked right though. The white of the crayon didn't seem to match my whiteness as a white guy. Some of you out there may be a closer match to the crayon.
As I was driving out of my driveway this morning I noticed how white it is here in central Kentucky. We have had snow for about three straight days now, and we haven't had a daily temperature above 30 degrees in at least a week. In short, we have a good stack of snow on the ground. I like snow a lot. Most people don't seem to like it much. I guess because it is inconvenient. But it seems to me that the most beautiful places in God's great creation are also inconvenient. Most of the lovely places I have seen in God's world have required a hike, or a climb, or a drive. They usually aren't found right in front of my doorstep. Well snow is a little inconvenient I suppose. Although me and Nacho (the name christened to my beautiful and glorious four wheel drive truck) seem to do pretty well with it. But I like the way that snow sort of outlines everything in the world. The steps leading up to the front door of one of the nearby Victorian style houses is a bit more interesting because it is outlined with white. The tree branches could all be counted in the dim morning light because they are also highlighted by the thin line of snow that has been carefully drawn along its edge. The bushes and shrubs display a more creative artistic approach, as they are gently sprinkled with patches of white, like the frosting on one of those 6-per package sugar donuts that you get in a moment of weakness on an early morning road trip, or at least the spots that such donuts leave on your jeans during the drive.
I have written too long of a blog in order to convey this one simple point, God is a lot better at using the white crayon than I ever was. It always seemed so empty and meaningless to me. It was the crayon in the box that never seemed as worn down as the reds and blues. Around here God seems to save the white crayon for special occasions with us as well. We only see a good snowfall about three times per-year. But I enjoy the white crayon in God's hands. I will gladly be inconvenienced today in order to let Him continue his wonderful work of art.
1.07.2010
Do You Know Any Dead Men?
I suppose there are abundant reasons why a person might choose to start a blog. To be honest, I don't think much of blogs. They seem kind of boring compared to the other online networking tools out there which seem far superior in entertainment value. But, for the time being, this is what we have to work with. Why this blog? I'm not sure. But let me see if I can bring you up to speed on the social developments which have resulted in this endeavor.
I am a person who has struggled with a lot of, shall we say, personal obstacles. Or to quote the pastor of my small but great church community, I might call these obstacles "hurts, habits, and hangups". I enjoy writing. I don't seem to be the only one either. Other people seem to have enjoyed my writing on occasion. So a few years ago I shared with some guys the idea of writing in a more deliberate and purposeful way. I guess if I really had it my way (and I rarely do), I would love to see a greater collection of literature out there for our contemporary world that communicates a greater vision of manhood and masculinity. If I were a thirty year old man in today's American culture, and hypothetically I was completely ignorant of what it meant to be one, I may pick up some masculine publications to research what American manhood is supposed to look like. There are a handful of men's magazines out there that you are probably already aware of. If I were to use these magazines as my primary source of information, I think I would determine these statistics: 10% of manhood is about working out, following sports, and looking as amazingly sexy as my body can possibly manage. Another 10% of manhood should be directed towards becoming a power player in my career, willing and able to do all that is necessary to climb to the top of the success ladder. The remaining 80% of my being should be geared toward sex, obtaining it, perfecting it, and getting it as often as possible.
So you're telling me that, as a man in today's America, my purpose for living is looks, power & achievement, and sex? I suppose that success in these areas would be fun, and I would certainly have a lot to work on. But I don't really believe that these three endeavors tap into some of the deeper desires of a man. What about honor? What about our instinctive desire to defend and protect? What about the romantic part buried deep inside of all of us that wishes to be the knight in shining armor for some epic beauty, and to rescue her heart rather than simply bed her?
The vision of Dead Man Rising may not appeal to men who simply wish to achieve the cover spot on GQ Magazine. But, for some men out there in the world, perhaps there can be a way to explore that deeper quest that seems to have been planted into the core of our desires. Do you want to explore it? Would you make a contribution in writing? Would you make a contribution of your time? Would you make a contribution of your heart in exploring the possibility that there is more out of life then what we have all been told? If so, then keep checking back. I would love to have your listening ear, and your voice as well.
I am a person who has struggled with a lot of, shall we say, personal obstacles. Or to quote the pastor of my small but great church community, I might call these obstacles "hurts, habits, and hangups". I enjoy writing. I don't seem to be the only one either. Other people seem to have enjoyed my writing on occasion. So a few years ago I shared with some guys the idea of writing in a more deliberate and purposeful way. I guess if I really had it my way (and I rarely do), I would love to see a greater collection of literature out there for our contemporary world that communicates a greater vision of manhood and masculinity. If I were a thirty year old man in today's American culture, and hypothetically I was completely ignorant of what it meant to be one, I may pick up some masculine publications to research what American manhood is supposed to look like. There are a handful of men's magazines out there that you are probably already aware of. If I were to use these magazines as my primary source of information, I think I would determine these statistics: 10% of manhood is about working out, following sports, and looking as amazingly sexy as my body can possibly manage. Another 10% of manhood should be directed towards becoming a power player in my career, willing and able to do all that is necessary to climb to the top of the success ladder. The remaining 80% of my being should be geared toward sex, obtaining it, perfecting it, and getting it as often as possible.
So you're telling me that, as a man in today's America, my purpose for living is looks, power & achievement, and sex? I suppose that success in these areas would be fun, and I would certainly have a lot to work on. But I don't really believe that these three endeavors tap into some of the deeper desires of a man. What about honor? What about our instinctive desire to defend and protect? What about the romantic part buried deep inside of all of us that wishes to be the knight in shining armor for some epic beauty, and to rescue her heart rather than simply bed her?
The vision of Dead Man Rising may not appeal to men who simply wish to achieve the cover spot on GQ Magazine. But, for some men out there in the world, perhaps there can be a way to explore that deeper quest that seems to have been planted into the core of our desires. Do you want to explore it? Would you make a contribution in writing? Would you make a contribution of your time? Would you make a contribution of your heart in exploring the possibility that there is more out of life then what we have all been told? If so, then keep checking back. I would love to have your listening ear, and your voice as well.
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