Snoopy...

"There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say: Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round... as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!" -Scrooge's nephew Fred, A Christmas Carol

 "The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel-- which means 'God with us.' " -Matthew 1:23

It's Christmas time! I must admit that there is no time I would rather find in the calendar than the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I love the lights, the carols, the cold, the trees, the smiles, the hot cocoa. Heck, I LOVE Santa Claus and the reindeer and the elves.

I love the spirit in the air of joy and friendship. I love the stories of Rudolph and the smiles on children's faces as they wait in in line to hand Santa their lists, hoping for a Wii or a horse or a little brother or just the newest Justin Bieber backpack! There is no greater feeling than Christmas in the air!

But something has changed since I was a kid. It's not quite how I remembered it. Perhaps it's because  it starts in October now (or September... or even August...). Maybe it's just because I've gotten older. I'm not sure what has caused it. But it's different.

One of the things I love about Facebook and Twitter is this new trend that has developed throughout November. Each day people would post things they were thankful for: family, friends, romance, school, faith! You name it and someone was thankful for it! It was beautiful.

And then Black Friday happened. The sales moved in and the commercials started playing. 60%-off  doorbusters from Midnight-Noon! Call 1-800-Flowers and give the gift of Christmas! Every kiss begins with K(ay) so give the gift of love! In a snap, we moved from being thankful for everything we do have, to thinking about how to get everything we don't. Somehow I don't think this is the spirit of Christmas.

More and more over the years I've seen more bumper stickers and yard signs that have really started to scare me. They've got a really simple message: Jesus is the Reason for the Season. It's become the motto of the so-called "War to Save Christmas." I see them everywhere: stood up in neighborhood yards, slapped on the back of family SUV's, tagged into church commercials for their Christmas Eve services.

But when I see these words, one question keeps coming to mind: would Jesus even recognize this season that he's supposed to be the reason for?

Growing up in Santa Rosa, California, I lived about 2 blocks from the Snoopy museum and ice rink. Charles Schultz, the creator of Peanuts, was a resident of Santa Rosa and so the official doghouse of Snoopy was right down the road. Needless to say, I've always had a soft spot for Charlie Brown and his life's many (sometimes endless) disappointments. I've also always loved Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown.

In a world of rabid commercialism, aluminum Christmas trees and a high-strung and over-the-top Christmas pageant, Charlie Brown wants desperately to find the real meaning for Christmas. After finding and buying the most pathetic (but only real) Christmas tree in town for their pageant, Charlie's friends all turn on him.

"Boy are you stupid Charlie Brown," says Violet.

"You were supposed to get a good tree. Can't you even tell a good tree from a poor tree," adds Lucy.

At his lowest, Charlie finally concedes to Linus, "I guess you were right Linus. I shouldn't have picked this little tree. I guess I really don't know what Christmas is all about. Is there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?!"

And in perfect simplicity, Linus responds, "Sure Charlie Brown, I can tell you what Christmas is all about!" And then he recounts the story of Christmas.

It's a perfect scene, one I'm sure most of us have seen on ABC each Christmas. But I've yet to find a more pure, more honest answer to what Christmas is all about than Linus. The characters of Peanuts bring the story of Christmas into perfect perspective!

It's this picture and the simplicity of Linus's retelling of the story of Jesus' birth that gives me pause when I see these "Reason for the season" tags. Somehow I wonder, in our speed to defend Christmas from the dangers of culture, if we've totally missed the mark in how to celebrate Christmas well! Santa or no Santa, it doesn't seem like we're doing much differently.

The story of Christmas is at one time a majestic one, a story of angels singing and God coming down. At the same time, it's the story of a family that couldn't find room in an inn so they were forced to go out to where the shepherds were keeping their flocks and lay their newborn in a food trough for those same sheep. The crowd at his birth? His engaged parents, a few simple shepherds and some wise men from the East. Not exactly the beautiful scene in most nativity scenes.

The story of Christmas is the story of God coming down here and bringing peace and joy and heaven with him! As the angel says, his name shall be Immanuel, "God with us." It seems that if Jesus is the reason for a season, it should be a season marked by peace, joy, redemption, forgiveness and love. And yet, while we cry out, "Jesus is the Reason for the Season," we've become consumed with having the brightest lights and filling our lives with the newest things.

I think Scrooge's nephew Fred had it best in his quote above: "But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round... as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of... when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys."

He's right. Christmas is a time to open our hearts, to share joy and peace, to think of others as brothers and sisters. That's who Jesus is. That's what Christmas is. It is a reminder that we already have enough.

I hate that somehow this has become a time of stress and tears. Some of us stress about finding that perfect gift so much that we lose all the joy of giving. Some families are so torn just trying to be able to provide their children with anything. We compete to have the brightest front yards and most cheer. Somewhere I worry we've missed the mark.

I love Santa, and I love opening presents on Christmas morning. But I'm tired of losing sight of what this holiday is all about. So this year, we're trying something different in the Leathers house. We're all getting each other ONE present. We're stripping it down. And what is taking the place of all the presents we used to get? A walk around the lake. A trip to the movies. Time spent together with family.

This is how we're trying to celebrate Christmas well. Others do it differently. Find a way to bless a family or neighbor in need. Get involved in bringing joy and hope to those around you. That's who Jesus was. He brought heaven into the lives of those around him. That's Christmas. We already have all we need, so why not bless others with it. If our Christmas isn't marked with joy and hope and peace, Jesus probably isn't the reason for what we're celebrating.

You see, I do believe Jesus is the reason for this season, we just ought to start celebrating that season! I'm convinced he's more than a slogan to defend. And when he claim a slogan but not his season, what's the point anyways?

forever unfinished (and Merry Christmas)...

Puzzles...

"If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be?" -1 Corinthians 12:17-18

"I know sometimes you feel like you don't fit in. And this world doesn't know what you have within. When I look at you, I see something rare." -Backstreet Boys, What Makes You Different

People are different. You've probably heard that since you were in kindergarten. Except in kindergarten I had this image of people as a paint pallet.

You know: some red, some yellow, some black, some brown, some white. I always wondered if there were were purple and green and blue people in places we'd never discovered yet (I mean, the elves on the North Pole MUST'VE been blue because they were so cold.

Obviously, the color template means of describing the infinite diversity of humanity is a little flawed. But I suppose it's a decent starting point. It illuminates something at a young age: we are all SO different.

 We grew up in different homes with different parents who made different amounts of money and instilled different values. We have grown up in different neighborhoods with different friends who looked different and thought differently.

There's a beauty in that diversity. How creative God must be to imagine us with so many different heights and smiles and winks and hair colors and, umm, smells. I love that idea! The creative god, who painted the stars and whispers a sunset, molded humanity, and then said let's give it six billion different faces.

When I was in middle and high school, every year our family would head to Hilton Head for a weekend at the beach over Memorial Day weekend.

They were pretty typical beach weekends as I'm sure you've had over the years. We'd sleep in, eventually hit the beach, throw a football or a frisbee around, splash around in the ocean and look for dolphins on the horizon. You know, typical beach vacation stuff. (One of us would inevitably always end up a little too sunburned as well...)

And like other families, we would always pull out a jigsaw puzzle and make it a goal to have it finished by the time we left. Tell me if this scene sounds familiar:  you pull out all the pieces, scramble to find the edges and piece the border together in a blaze of glory, then plod along at an elephant's pace to fill in the rest of the picture until only those last 50 or so pieces remain, when the Spirit moves and everyone turns on warp speed seeing how many pieces they can place.

We got a little competitive towards the end. But don't worry, I always beat my little brother to the last piece!

But there is great truth in puzzles.

Every piece is different. Each tells a very small, but absolutely vital, piece of the larger story. It is a intimate view of an infinitely more profound picture. The puzzle is not complete without each and every piece.

Have you ever gotten to the end of a puzzle and realized you were missing a piece? It is the most frustrating thing in the entire world. Hours and hours of work, and you're MISSING a piece?!?! It can deflate a room faster than news that Twinkies and Ho-Ho's are no more.

That's the story of us! In the very first chapter of the bible we get a glimpse into the way God made us. "So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them." This is PROFOUND! There is a deep mystery in what it means to be made in the image of God. It raises a lot of questions I can't even begin to answer.

But what it also says is that in each of us is an unmistakeable glimpse into the Creator. And that means so much for how we look at ourselves and how we look at our brothers and sisters.

Paul paints this really cool picture in his first letter to the church in Corinth. He compares humanity to a body, with all its many parts and pieces. And the foot and hand get into an argument. "Why can't I be one of you? You get all the action!" the foot says to the hand. But how would a body walk without a foot? It is of crucial importance, even if it doesn't get to shake and wave and shoot a basketball.

I love that God could mold and shape each of us with different ideas, different looks, different gifts and skills. None of us is the same. Each of us tells a different story with our gifts. A story that NO ONE else can tell, an indispensable story!

When you look in the mirror, I hope you see that. The world tries to take that from us. It tries to steal the beauty of our diversity and creation. We compare ourselves, wish we looked like someone else, had someone else's gifts. But in the mirror, I hope you see the image of the Potter who shaped you, because He made you and said, "It is VERY good." Don't let anyone take that reflection from you, because just like each piece of the puzzle, we show a piece of who the Father is and the picture wouldn't be complete if you weren't JUST THE WAY YOU ARE.

But we also have to take this and look at our neighbors this same way. If we really are all "fearfully and wonderfully made",  that means we are ALL made that way. Yes, our brothers who voted differently than we did and our sisters living on the streets. Our brothers who think too highly of themselves and our sisters who think too little. Our brothers here in America and our sisters in Iran and China and Poland. Our brothers struggling through eating disorders and our sisters selling themselves and being sold as objects.

The picture wouldn't be complete without each of them as well! What would our world look like if we saw everyone this same way? We have to stop seeing labels and stereotypes, flaws and weaknesses. What if we started trying to see the image of the Creator in his created? Because it's there. We all reflect his face. Your gifts are as valuable as mine. I pray when you look in the mirror you see that you and I and each one of us is a part of something bigger, reflecting the beauty and brilliance of the God who made us in his image.

forever unfinished...

Starry Nights...

"When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him? You made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor." -Psalms 8:3-5

"If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone." -Romans 12:18

I like watching the stars. I always have. But that doesn't mean it hasn't gotten me into trouble from time to time.

If you are like me, you don't have many stories of being arrested or tales of run-ins with the law. So the stories you do have, you hold onto tight and share at every opportunity. You allow them to grow into high speed chases from the FBI.

When I was a senior in high school I had my one moment to shine with one of Brentwood's Finest. It took about 3 seconds after I pulled out of the parking lot at Lipscomb Elementary at midnight for him to flip on his lights, and the chase was on.

Well, the chase lasted about 100 feet before I pulled over and gave in. The officer stepped out of his car, walked up to the window (flashlight in hand) and asked me what I'd been doing in the parking lot so late at night. And my response...?

"Just watching the stars from the playground sir."

Needless to say, he wasn't thrilled. He handed me an information questionnaire with the warning that he was going to go back to the parking lot. If he found any kind of paraphernalia, he was going to be knocking on my door that night to bring me in! ME?!?! A drug dealer?!?!

Never in my life have I had more street cred. And for what? Watching the stars? Needless to say, I was pretty proud of myself, and at the same time utterly embarrassed.

I love the clear night sky. I love its poetry, its romance. I see a painting of infinite detail and rhythm, a blank canvas speckled with light. I love its vastness and grandness, its "bigness."

But above all else, I love my place in it. I love laying in the grass on a clear night and finding my space in the painting above. It's so big and yet so intimate, so grand and yet so simple. I bet God had a lot of fun when he painted the stars and the moon and the galaxies, because they are artwork at its finest. And they draw me in while reminding me how small I am.

In the grand scheme of the universe, I am not even a speck of sand on a vast desert. And I need the stars to remind me of that, to remind me of God's beautiful creation, as well as reminding me that I am just a small part in it all. And that creation, that tapestry in a night sky, doesn't revolve around me.

The stars remind me that my story is not about me, but rather me and my neighbors and the god who knit us all together.

James talks about this beautifully in his letter to the tribes of Israel. He talks about what true wisdom looks like. It is "first of all pure, then peace-loving, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere."

But then from there he makes this profound pivot and asks a perfectly simple question: "What causes fights and quarrels among you?"

It's beautiful really. It's as if he is saying, if you are so wise, and wisdom is peace, mercy and sincerity, then why are you still fighting? And his answer cuts to the core of the matter. It's because we want what we don't have, because we need to be filled, because we covet what others have already achieved.

I'm convinced more and more each day that James is right, that when I convince myself that the most important thing is me I've totally missed the mark. And when I hold up his words as a mirror, they indict me, they tear me apart because I see myself in his letter.

I think it's time we gave the "Me First" view a break and starting writing a new story, because the old one is broken. It's where we find poverty, not just in our bank accounts but in our souls. It's where we find bitterness and resentment. It's where we find competition, not just on the football field but in our relationships.

How many times have we said, "I can't forgive her until she does (fill in the blank)"? How many times have we turned our back on a brother to take two steps ahead? How many times have we made a joke at another's expense because it made us feel better about ourselves?

But Paul has a great answer to this in his letter to the Romans. "...As far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone." That's POWERFUL. That's CONVICTING. It makes me uncomfortable. It takes away my excuses for withholding love, withholding mercy. It puts the ball of love in MY court. It gives ME the choice to write a better story, a story of peace and grace, a story of forgiveness and wholeness. It means I don't have to let the circumstances of my life and the hurt others have caused dampen the joy or light in my life. It means I'm allowed to let that light shine into others. It means I'm allowed to love people who don't love me back.

And it means I can overcome evil with love. I can allow light and love to drown out darkness and hate. And in doing so we can begin to write a better story. A story that doesn't revolve around me. A story that invites people in, even if they don't want to join in.

The stars remind me that there is a better story out there. And what's great about them? Everybody, no matter where they live and who they've hurt or been hurt, sees the same stars and the strokes the Creator has painted. We all share that story, that painting. And we are all specks in its scope. We were all painted by the same painter's brush, and when He finished He said, "It is very good" to you just as He did to me. So go out tonight and take a look at the heavens, and remember that we are all a part of that painting, and that the story of us is much more beautiful that the story of me.

forever unfinished...

Cory and Topanga...

"Throughout your life, there's gonna be a lot of opportunities that come up. And they're gonna seem great. And they're gonna seem wonderful. And they're gonna seem like they make your life a heck of a lot easier. But you have to walk away. And, you know, at times it's gonna be really difficult to do that. But you have to, because you deserve better." -Eric Matthews, Boy Meets World

"Good is the enemy of great" -Jim Collins

As most know, I am an avid fan of Vanderbilt football. It leaves me with heartbreak a lot, but just like with a pretty girl, I keep running back for more, undeterred by failure.

Vanderbilt's coach James Franklin has a saying. It's become the tagline for his program: "Six seconds at a time." It's really a great motto for a football team. On average, a single play lasts six seconds. So win every play, win every six seconds, without worry of what came before or after. Live in the present, and win that.

But while it's a great symbol for a football program, I'm afraid we've become a six-second society. In a world of instant communication and limitless opportunities, we're living life in snapshots, settling for the crumbs of life to the fullest.

We communicate with one another 140 characters at a time #hashtagproblems. We reduce the campaign for the president of the United States to two 3-second sound clips revolving around Big Bird and "Binders of Women" taken totally out of context for shock value. We live relationships one weekend, one night, at a time. We live for what feels good now and easy answers and quick fixes to profound issues and questions when life is a tangled web of confusion and interwoven parts. We're so busy settling for good that we've forgotten what great even looks like.

One of my favorite shows growing up (and still today to be honest) was Boy Meets World. It was a show that followed Cory Matthews from middle school all the way through college graduation. Like all shows about growing up, it carried the drama and angst of high school and the silly quabbles of teen relationships, but there was also something very true about the show.

Throughout the series, a key theme is Cory's relationship with Topanga, his "soul-mate" for lack of any better word. From the beginning of high school until the end of the show, they are together. And there are twists and turns along the road, but they are the constant, even when something has pulled them apart for one reason or another.

At one point in high school, Cory, his best friend Shawn and his older brother Eric are visiting a college at the beach for a guys' weekend. While there, Cory gets stuck alone with a girl in her dorm room, and to say she was putting the moves on him would be an understatement. At one point she had cornered him on her bed and just as she was going in for the kill, Eric walks through the door. Giving the brothers a moment, the girl takes her laundry downstairs.

Cory ardently tries to convince Eric nothing was going to happen, that he was being pressured into something but that he wouldn't cheat on Topanga. And in a moment of pure wisdom (which was a rarity for him,) Eric looks to him and says something tremendously profound and true:

"Throughout your life, there's gonna be a lot of opportunities that come up. And they're gonna seem great. And they're gonna seem wonderful. And they're gonna seem like they make your life a heck of a lot easier. But you have to walk away. And, you know, at times it's gonna be really difficult to do that. But you have to, because you deserve better."

Life is hard. I'm absolutely convinced that God created us for relationships and companionship, for vulnerability and intimacy. And that's HARD! It's scary. What does our divorce rate say if not that? Every day we're faced with choices, some easier and some harder. Relationships are hard. Life is hard!

I've read the Gospels a few times, and I can't find this place where Jesus says life is easy and we'll have it our way and it will all be smiles and rainbows. At seemingly every turn in fact, he keeps reminding his disciples that it will be hard. "You will be persecuted," he says at one point. "In this world you will have trouble," he adds at another.

But the story of Jesus is the story of a God who entered in to our story, the anger and the pain and the imperfections, and shined a little light and restored it. It's a story of hope! The story of Jesus is at its heart a love story. Not in the same way that The Notebook or Beauty and the Beast is a love story. But it's a story of a God who willingly and without pause jumped into a world he loves that is broken and imperfect in order to redeem it. It's a story of a God who gets his hands dirty because his beloved is worth it!

Following after Jesus isn't easy. But neither is maintaining friendship. Neither is fighting oppression or poverty. Neither is marriage. Neither is loving someone who doesn't love themselves. But just because life's circumstances are hard doesn't mean a quick fix is the solution.

Just because vulnerability is hard doesn't mean we have to settle for texts and "Likes" to supply the lifeblood of friendships. Just because relationships are hard doesn't mean we have to settle for instant, shallow passion that leaves us empty. Just because poverty is hard doesn't mean we can't meet and befriend our brothers and sisters living without a home.

There's a saying that I love: "If it seems too good to be true, it is."

Life to the fullest comes when we take risks, when we are willing to jump without knowing where we'll land. Because nothing great every came without risks, without sweat, without love. Just because it is hard doesn't mean it's not worth it. In fact, it usually means it is! Let's stop settling for six-second moments and start living genuine, great stories.

forever unfinished...

Jesus Loves Elephants (and Donkeys too...)

"It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in man. It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in princes." -Psalm 118: 8-9

"One by one, these disciples would infect the nations with grace. It wasn't a call to take the sword or the throne and force the world to bow. Rather, they were to live the contagious love of God, to woo the nations into a new future." -Shane Claiborne, Jesus for President

Warning: This will be about politics and Jesus. You have been warned.

I have a confession: I love this time every four years. I think presidential elections are... fun? Is that allowed? I really like watching debates and hearing the different ideas people have and who's winning and who's playing catch-up. I love seeing candidates share their dreams and plans. It's the REAL reality show.

But this year hasn't been as fun as the rest for me. Maybe it's because I'm older, or because my perspective has changed over the past four years. But this election is different.

I love talking about politics and candidates and ideas and policies, but it has been really hard for me this time around. Nobody seems willing to listen. Nobody seems willing to hear anybody else's point of view. We all seem more interested in posting some clever meme telling the world how enlightened we are and how dumb others are.

There are seven candidates, all very accomplished and very capable, who are running for president. They are very different, and have very different ideas. None's great desire is to bring harm to you or your family. Rather, they simply have different plans for helping people and different ideas about how this country should function.

But that is what I keep hearing. I keep hearing that if we vote for Trump or if we vote for Clinton or if we vote for Carson or if we vote for Sanders or if we vote for some other candidate, the world is going to collapse, freedom will be curbed and tomorrow will be dimmer than today. Each camp is painting the other as the candidate of evil and lies and no compassion. Heck, they might be scarier than the Boogey Man. Fear is the name of the game. What would happen if, God forbid, instead of warning us of their opponents infinite flaws, each candidate were to extol the good things about the other?

But I must tell you, in spite of all of this, I have hope. And it doesn't come from these women and men, regardless of who wins. Because just like me (and you), they are all flawed, imperfect people who make mistakes and misjudgements. None has a monopoly on wisdom. Of course they aren't perfect, and neither are their policies.

But still I have hope. I have hope because there is a god who created the universe and has nurtured it since before time began. I have hope because there is a god who is BIGGER than left or right, red or blue, donkey or elephant. I have hope because there is a god who made the sun rise this morning and will tomorrow and has blessed me beyond abundance.

I've heard a lot about God in this election cycle, and I've heard a lot of people who love Jesus talking in the past year about the election. The funny thing is, though, I haven't heard very much of Jesus in their words.

Paul said it best I think in his first letter to the Corinthians, "If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal." We talk all day about loving our neighbors, but when it comes to politics, we do a great job of excluding our neighbors on the other side of the aisle or who support different candidates than we do. We leave love at the door in an effort to win the argument. We've lost the ability to talk about politics, even the role of faith in politics, with words of understanding and love. (Kinda like college football in the South, huh?)

The truth is that I'm convinced Jesus loves Republicans and Democrats alike. And I know for a fact that there are a lot of Republicans who love him back, just as there are Republicans who could care less about the Christian faith. By the same token, I know Democrats profoundly invested in following after Jesus and others who steer as clear from faith as they can! At the end of the day, I'm pretty sure Jesus didn't check our voter registration cards to validate his love, just like I'm absolutely positive he hasn't registered red or blue.

To a bigger point, however, I'm also convinced that the role of faith in politics descends deeper than a platform of gay marriage and abortion. By no means do I mean to dismiss these as important questions Christians and non-Christians need to wrestle with. BUT, it seems to me that Jesus had much bigger questions at stake: How can we love, encourage and equip our brothers and sisters trapped in the horrors of cyclical poverty? How do we build bridges with our neighbors instead of creating barriers? How do we work towards a world where war is forgotten and peace wins? In fact, I think every issue is a question of faith and how we love our neighbors.

This is why I still have hope. Because regardless of who wins and the ideas and policies they support and believe in, God is still at work. And wherever possible, I'd like to join in God's work of supporting my brothers and sisters who have been forgotten, my brothers and sisters in the midst of terrible suffering and despair. Politics are important, but I have to believe God is bigger (much bigger in fact.) And the next president will not dictate the way I live my life and the ways I love my neighbor.

*As an aside, imagine what amazing work could have been done with all of the $2 billion (that's right, $2 billion) that was being spent on the presidential campaigns four years ago! It is tremendously humbling for me to look at that number and imagine the kinds of ways we could bless our neighbors with that kind of support, the diseases we could eradicate, the neighborhoods (heck, even cities) we could re-start and re-ignite, the hunger we could erase. Not to mention, we could buy SO. MUCH. ICE CREAM.

I love talking and involving myself in politics, but it has become harder and harder. Instead of it bringing people together (isn't that what government is supposed to do?) we are tearing each other apart, calling each other terrible things, condemning one another for ignorance and stupidity. But what if we were willing to listen, even understandingly disagree, with those across the aisle? What if we brought the grace of Jesus back into the conversation (not just as proof text but as the reality he is), and his love and grace actually infected the conversation? I'm convinced James was writing to America in 2012 when he wrote, "My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry."

So here is my prayer for the ballot box, which you are welcome to share: "Father, I pray for my neighbors in this country and for the women and men on this ballot. May they be filled with your wisdom. May they work to encourage and empower their neighbor, both powerful and weak. May they bring together and not pull apart. May they work for peace and not conflict. Let your grace and love and mercy flow in this country as it does for all people all over the world. For Donald Trump and Ted Cruz and Marco Rubio and John Kasich and Ben Carson and Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders, I pray that you shower them with overflowing love and that their will might be in tune with yours. And may we return to loving our neighbors as ourselves!"

forever unfinished...

Strong...

"Somebody once told me that, 'I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me' (Philippians 4:13). Life hasn't been a walk in the park for me, but I'm thankful for the obstacles, hardships, and accomplishments that GOD has provided for me. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be the Rajaan Bennett that you know today. I wouldn't have things any other way.

Strength is the ability to do or bear things in the state of being strong.

In the year of 2000, I moved from the streets of Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, to the suburbs of Powder Springs, Georgia. A year later, my dad died in a horrible car wreck, and as a ten year-old, I knew he wasn't coming back. This tragedy rattled me to the core. I felt as if there was no need for me to live. I wanted to be as happy as the kids with dads and moms.

Some days I would wonder - why me? But eventually, I realized that it was my turn to become a man. As I became older, I came to notice that in life you use strength as a blanket to protect you from this cold world.

I am the oldest of 3 and I have a brother with special needs who I have to take care of. I have to balance school, sports, friends, and family - and it gets so hard, but I push myself. I push myself like a sprinter who is neck and neck with an opponent with 10 meters left. With the strength that I posses, I feel like I'm Hercules.

I matured faster than all of my friends - and there will never be a time that I will give up. I may complain, I may refuse, and I may even cry about it, but I know I have to do what I have to do.

I work hard at whatever I do - just for that man upstairs to smile down on me with the rays of the sun ...and they feel so warm. My drive cannot be stopped or even slowed down, because every obstacle has a way around it. Every day I become stronger from the weights physically, the books mentally, and life emotionally.

There is no limit to my strength and at the end of the day, I want to be known as the strongest."

This is not original. It was written by Rajaan Bennett, a senior three years ago at McEachern High school outside of Atlanta, GA. A star running back, Bennett was committed to play football at Vanderbilt University. A week after this essay was written, Bennett was shot to death protecting his mother and siblings when an ex-boyfriend of his mom's broke into their home. He died protecting the people that needed him most. That is love. THAT is strength.

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Superman...

"Angus, Superman isn't brave... You don't understand. He's smart and handsome, even decent. But he's not brave. Now, you listen to me. Superman is indestructible. And you can't be brave if you're indestructible. It's people like you and your mother. People who are different, who can be crushed and know it, but they keep going out there every time." -Angus

"Fear not, for i have redeemed you' I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, i will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze." -Isaiah 43:1-2

Spiders? Arachnophobia.

Public Speaking? Glossophobia.

A recent study by the National Institute of Mental Health found that 8.7% of Americans suffer from some form of specifically-triggered fear. For some it's as simple as snakes and heights. For others, it's more profound. Stressful interactions. Unknown environments. Point being, we are a people of fear.

Nicole Kidman is afraid of butterflies. Johnny Depp is afraid of clowns. And you won't ever see Oprah around chewing gum.

We've all got things that we're afraid of. When I meet people, I love to ask what their deepest fear is. The answer can tell you so much about somebody.

But fear is nothing new. The bible is a story full of fear.

When Moses met God at the burning bush, he was overwhelmed. When God told him to go back to Egypt, where they wanted him dead, he came up with every excuse to not return, going so far as to plead with God, "O Lord, please send someone else to do it." God's response? "I will be with you."

When God comes to Jeremiah as a boy and tells him to go out and prophesy to his people, Jeremiah wants no part of it. "I'm only a child and I do not know how to speak," he argues. God's response? "Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you."

When David is laying out the plans for the temple that his son Solomon is to build, it all became just too much for Solomon. The dimensions and the materials and the tools. It all just became a bit overwhelming. David's response? "Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord God, my God, is with you. He will not fail you or forsake you until all the work for the service of the temple of the Lord is finished."

The most celebrated names of the bible are people who were wracked with insecurities and fears.

I'm no different in my life. I may not be afraid of black cats or flying, but my story is full of fears. I am terrified of commitment, as I'm sure my ex's could attest to. But not in some giggly "Oh, another guy who is afraid of commitment" kind of way. I mean, I fear committing to things when it requires closing myself off to other options. I am terrified of choosing one door when it requires closing others. So often in my life, once something has demanded that I invest completely and work with all my energy, I have bailed.

I am scared of being bold and being known, being vulnerable. Few things scare me more than the idea that others might know the most intimate feelings and insecurities in the corners of my heart that I try too often to hide even from the Father. I construct conversations and comments to paint the prettiest picture of my life, so that people will only be able to see what I want them to see. Sharing the depths of my soul with someone is horrifying for me.

But when people ask me for my deepest fear, my answer is the fear of being forgotten, of being unimportant to others. I fear my life could be an interchangeable part, that I could be replaced by anyone else and that when I move out of sight, so too does my memory. It drives me to keep myself in others' attention.

And of course, I fear rejection. I fear putting myself out on a limb when I'm unsure of its stability.

But like the faces of the biblical stories, there is a God behind me calling out, "Do not be afraid. Be strong and courageous for I am with you." He is painting a bigger picture.

When I was a kid, I was totally into superheroes, convinced one day I could be Bruce Wayne or Clark Kent. I distinctly remember having a red Superman cape with velcro straps on the shoulders. You see, superheroes weren't afraid of anything. They went and took the bad guys out with a big, "KAPLUNK!"

I think that's why I love the movie Angus. Angus is a heavy kid who's been elected king of the upcoming dance, something that terrifies him. In a moment of absolute wisdom, his grandfather reminds Angus, "Superman isn't brave. Superman is indestructible, and you can't be brave if you're indestructible."

It's my fears that make me human.

But to live the story that God has written for my life, I have to listen to the voice that whispers, "Be not afraid for I have with you."

The most frequent commandment in the bible is not "Do not murder" or "Do not lie." No, it is "Do not fear." And I'm convinced that's because fear is one of the most authentic human emotions and because it dictates so much of our stories, pulling them down roads infinitely less consumed by light and life. I'm sick of living a story where my choices are defined by safety. I'm tired of being afraid to take risks and live the life that God calls me into, life to the FULLEST. When my fears of commitment and rejection and intimacy dictate my choices, my story is only a fraction of what it could be.

Donald Miller tells a story about a friend of his named Bob. "He didn't think we should be afraid to embrace whimsy. I asked him what he meant by whimsy, and he struggled to define it. He said it's that nagging idea that life could be magical; it could be special if we were only willing to take a few risks."

We all have fears. They are a part of who we are. Maybe yours are financial. Or based in relationships. Or maybe they are as simple as the fear of the dark. But whatever they might be, they do not define us, not unless we let them. God is writing a much more beautiful story for our lives than fear ever could. I think it's about time I started embracing a little whimsy and started letting go of my fears. Wanna join?

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Blacktops and Beiber Fever...

"When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it." -Matthew 13:46

"You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down." -It's a Wonderful Life

"For You I sing I dance. I rejoice in this divine romance." -Phil Wickham, Divine Romance

Her name was Brittany Hamilton, and I'm pretty sure she was perfect. Well, at least to a second-grader at Steele Lane Elementary School she was. She had dirty blonde hair and a "10-out-of-10" smile. She danced at the talent shows and was a killer tetherball player.

She was my first crush.

Everybody has a Brittany Hamilton. The guy or girl that showed you maybe cooties weren't SO bad and that there might be something to this whole "cute" thing. Don't get me wrong. Girls still had cooties and the idea of kissing one of them was still the only thing scarier than taking a bath. But there was still just something about her. And although I couldn't admit it for fear of being totally weird, I had a crush and was head over heels in love.

Well, as much as a seven-year-old can be I suppose.

Back then, I would go so far out of my way for her to notice me that I would've taken the route through Minnesota to get from Santa Rosa, California to Honolulu. I had it bad. When recess came around, I would skip in line to be partnered up with her for tetherball. When Mrs. Winstead had us create an acrositc poem about our best friend in writing class, I chose Brittany (and then had to explain why my cheeks turned a brighter red than any cherry when we had to present it.) There's even a picture in my parents' house of me and some friends at an awards ceremony that I had them blow up and frame because she was in the corner of the picture. It's still there I promise.

But I knew I'd arrived when, for about two weeks of the school year, she chased ME around the blacktop at recess. She could've chased anyone, but she chased ME! It was over. I was ready to drop my bachelor ways and invite her to Skate Night at the ice rink.

From that point on, my second-grade life had one purpose: making Brittany Hamilton fall in love with me. I would do whatever it took. Subtlety has never been my gift, but it was wasn't even in my vocabulary at this point. I threw caution to the wind in the maddening pursuit of even a smile.

The funny thing is, even as we get older, things haven't changed much. Most days I'm a hall-of-famer in the sport of tripping over myself and stumbling through my words around a cute girl.

But more than anything, that's the way I want to fall madly in love with the God whose love I will never earn but always have.

You see, daily I want to fall madly in love with God so much that I would stumble all over myself to be with him and love his children. I want to be so starry-eyed by his presence that the men with the white jackets would have to come check me out. I want to fall so head over heels for my creator that chasing after anything else seems a little... blah.

I think of the girls with the most contagious disease known to doctors today: "Beiber Fever." There is no question about their affections. And it permeates every corner of their lives. Their backpacks. Their haircuts. Their iPod playlists. Their words. The weight of their parents' wallets. It's about showing the world how much they love the Beibs (and confession, "Baby" is on my playlists. Luda.) But that's what I'm talking about. A love that permeates every place in my heart and my thoughts. A yearning that blesses my work and my friends and my significant others and my ultimate frisbee playing.

I hear the words of Jesus and Deuteronomy to love the Lord with all my heart and soul and mind and strength. You see, I love God to the bottom of my core. I am enraptured by him. But when I think of Brittany Hamilton, I realize that I would've done anything to have her.

But here is an important distinction between Yahweh and Brittany Hamilton: my love for the Father is not to earn his love, but rather because of his love. It is not out of guilt or a sense of earning. No, I want to be so caught up in the Father's love that there is no other response, because there is no sweeter taste than the love of the infinite and perfect creator and redeemer.

Jesus tells a story about a pearl. A merchant is looking for pearls, and when he finds one, he sells EVERYTHING he has to buy it.

EVERYTHING!

It's because the pearl is so beautiful, so precious to him. That is my father's love. I want to be so caught up in awe and wonder and love of that love that nothing else seems good enough. And in turn, I want a love that shines, that people notice. You know, that sparkle in the eye of someone desperately lost in affection. A sparkle that not only brightens my every step, but the lives of each and every single one of my neighbors.

Brittany Hamilton was my first great love story. But there is an infinitely deeper and more beautiful story being written each day over me, and I want to jump in with both feet off the high dive. Here's to love.

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Heaven...

"For Jesus, the question wasn't 'How do I get into Heaven?' but "How do I bring Heaven here?' The questions wasn't, 'How do I get in there?' but 'How do I get there here?'" -Rob Bell, Velvet Elvis

"Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them." "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control..." -Matthew 7:20 and Galatians 5:22-23

A few months ago, as I talked about in the last post which was far too long ago, I was in Purdy, Missouri at Camp Barnabas with my amazing group at Berea Friendship working with some truly extraordinary kids who just happened to have some developmental disabilities. The work was crazy hard. The sleep was slim. The sweat was beyond glistening. And the joy and smiles were infinite!

You see, Camp is the closest thing to perfect I've ever tasted. More than any Mexican food I've ever eaten or any pretty girl I've fallen droopy eyed for.

And when we got back, everybody's first question, naturally, was, "How was the trip?!"

I'd prepared for this moment. After four previous trips to Camp, I've learned that it's better to have your answer planned out so when it's asked, I could roll out the highlights and the most meaningful moments, the most ridiculous laughs, and the deepest trials. So when our bus rolled up at the church blaring "Call Me Maybe," I knew how I was going to answer the fateful question.

But then something strange happened. I got off the bus and a mom asked, "So, how was your week?" And the answer I'd been preparing for two hours left me.

"It was heaven," I responded.

It was the only thing I could come up with.

For the following two weeks when others would ask, my answer grew. I shared stories of Nolan's name calling profanity and the wrestling in the pool to steal my sunglasses, the Elvis costume and Cross Carry. But even then, the answer always began, "It was heaven..." And that's because for the week we were there, heaven was in our midst.

Jesus had a lot of ways to describe the Kingdom of God. He called it a banquet, a pearl, a feast (my stomach's favorite,) etc. And he also called it a seed. I LOVE this image of heaven. I think it tells us so much of the nature of God's Kingdom.

Jesus tells a parable about a sower of seeds. The sower spreads the seed along the path, but it lands in different places. Some lands in the rocky soil, some in the thorns. Some has no shade. And still some fall on fertile soil. Then, somewhat counter to his nature of ambiguity, Jesus explains the parable. The seed is the word of God, and the soil is us, our hearts, our souls. What he is saying is that the word, the reality of who God is, lives IN us.

He then immediately follows this passage with 2 parables about the Kingdom: the growing seed and the mustard seed. Both of these stories illustrate something very simple: seeds grow, they mature into plants and bear fruit. The word gets inside us, it messes us up and transforms us (not always a painless or easy transformation) and the kingdom begins to take root in us. This is HUGE!

Jesus talks about the Kingdom of Heaven HERE, in our midst NOW.

We live in the in-between, both in the present reality, yet also in the midst of heaven's presence. I've never understood why we assume eternal life begins when we die. Heaven is a blessing and reality here and now, just as it is in the then and there.

But the conversation about seeds and their fruit doesn't end here. In this really cool tag-team, Jesus and Paul paint a beautiful picture of what it can look like when the kingdom's plant begins to take root in us. In teaching his disciples Jesus talks about people as plants who either bear good fruit or bad fruit and "Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them." It's like he's saying, an apple tree doesn't produce oranges. It produces apples.

In the same way, the kingdom bears certain fruits. Paul even shares some with us: "The fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control."

These are things that bless, no matter who you are! These are qualities that welcome and bring together. They are what the Kingdom of God is like. And when we carry heaven around with us we bless EVERYONE and invite others into a beautiful story.

That's what it means to be a disciple of Jesus: to be someone who carries heaven where they go and to bless others because of it. We're called to be in the business of bringing heaven HERE, even if just in imperfect glimpses and snapshots. Because if heaven is all we describe it as, I want to taste as much of it now, its purity and its perfection, its beauty and its majesty. I want God to be so rooted in my heart that my life would be marked by nothing but the fruits of his Kingdom. Those fruits are sweeter than any I've ever tasted.

And that's what Camp Barnabas was. For a week in Nowhere, Missouri, a group of teenagers from across America were so rooted in Jesus that heaven could not be missed in their every step. It was everywhere. And the fruit was sweet...

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Contagious...

"Each morning I wake up and say to myself, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or... you can choose to be in a bad mood."

"I can do everything through him who gives me strength." -Philippians 4:13

I spent a week recently at my favorite place on earth, Camp Barnabas. Do you have a place like that in your life? A place where everything seems to be in place and at peace? If you don't know, Barnabas is located in the Middle of Nowhere, Missouri and is a summer camp for children and adults with different special needs diagnoses. For a week they come to camp and can just have a normal week of fun in the sun.

The truly remarkable thing about Camp though is not just these kids, but the fact that it is staffed primarily by teenage volunteers from youth groups around the country. You know, the same teenagers who can't give you anything more than a standard "Good" when you ask about their day. The same teenagers whose lives are so marked with childish drama that it's hard to tell if we're watching real-life or re-runs of Dawson's Creek. The same teenagers we keep calling the "Hope of Tomorrow" because they must be too immature to improve the world of today.

These teenagers even PAY to share a week with a camper whose needs are more than most parents of toddlers could ever dream of. The week we were there this summer was called "Young Friends," a week where the campers are teenagers with developmental disabilities like autism, Down Syndrome and similar diagnoses. Each camper is paired with a teenage volunteer who is not only there to hang out and have a blast at camp with him or her, but is also there to support all of their needs that arise.

As we drove through Missouri on the way back to South Carolina this summer, I found myself talking to Denise, one of my just graduated from high school youth who was paired with a young girl named Kennedy for the week. To put it mildly, Kennedy was a handful. She didn't want to do any activity, couldn't sit still and hit, spit and scratched anyone in her vicinity. As Denise and I were reflecting a little bit on her week in the bus, I noticed scratches on her face and up and down her arms. She had bruises on her arms and stomach. And let's just say she hadn't exactly gotten a lot of sleep.

But when I asked her how her week was, it was overwhelming to hear the excitement in her voice. She was already talking about going back the next summer! "I mean, it was really tiring," she said. "But it was so much fun! Kennedy was a blast!"

Then there was Justin, who like Denise just graduated from high school. Two days into Camp I found him and asked him how he was doing. With the biggest smile I've ever seen on his face, he replied, "This is the most fun I've ever had not getting any sleep!"

These things don't seem to naturally go hand-in-hand. To be constantly dealing with a camper who can be incredibly exhausting (physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, sleepily) and yet totally in love and having a blast doesn't seem to mix.

But God was teaching me something that we've been taught since pre-school: attitude is one of the most contagious things in the world. Camp is governed first and foremost by one guideline: the J.O.Y. principle. What does this mean? It means we serve Jesus first, Others second, and Yourself last. It means we are constantly thinking of others before ourselves. And what is so incredible about Camp is that this becomes more than words. It becomes reality.

It's like a tidal wave that sweeps everyone up in the current. Even if originally you're not really on board, everyone else around you is willing to pick you up and pull you along until nothing seems more natural than smiling while helping someone else. Others won't LET you struggle.

Or maybe it's like a virus, one with no antidote, that just spreads and spreads. What it has convinced me of is that attitude is as contagious as any disease known to man. When others around us are so caught up enjoying the moment and serving others, we can't help but get caught up with it.

We can't control our circumstances, just as we cannot control the future or the weather. Some things just are. But how we respond, how we deal with those things, is the mark or who we are and the story we invite others into. You see, I don't believe that things are always easy or pleasant. In fact, I don't believe Jesus ever had that in mind. It seems to me that he was always preparing his disciples for the OPPOSITE in fact. "There will be trials," he constantly warned them.

Have you ever seen sports teams using Philippians 4:13 as a team motto on a shirt? You know the verse, "I can do all things through He who strengthens me." It's become the great, "We are the Champions" verse of high school sports. But Paul had a much different purpose when he wrote it 2,000 years ago.

He was in prison and learning to be content in his place. He wasn't saying, "I will become a champion if God is behind me." He was saying, "If this is where God wants me, I can do this." That became our prayer at Camp this summer, and it brought an incredible peace to our entire group. Because everything we went through (the long days at the pool, the sleepless nights, the spitting and the scratching, the laughs of parties) was where God wanted us, and what reason was there for us to complain. And when we allowed ourselves to be positive and joyful, it invited others around us to do the same.

We cannot control all the roads God will lead us down in life. We can however control the attitude we respond with. When we allow ourselves to find the best in things, our attitude can become the most contagious infection known to man. And when we're not able to see the positives, it's nice to have others around us who help us!

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Kindergarten...

"Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.'" -Matthew 19:14

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" -Golden Rule

 A few years ago I was in Pass Christian, Mississippi on a mission trip. We were painting houses for the week that had been ravaged by Hurricane Katrina a year and a half before. For housing, we found ourselves staying at a very small, basic church outside of town. While we were there, I poked my head into the Sunday School room to get some rest and fell upon a shelf of journals the kids wrote in. With the curiosity of a college freshman, I opened one belonging to a young girl named Ellen. If the title page was to be believed, she was seven, although the wisdom the pages contained carried a much deeper weight. In her last entry I found words that have stuck in my mind in the years since then.

"Question of the Day: What is the most important thing a friend can do for another?" "Pick them up when they fall," she wrote. The words were written with the penmanship of a girl still playing on the monkey bars, but the truth they held came from a much more experienced age.

I've thought about Ellen a lot recently. Sometimes I think it's true when they say, "Everything I needed to learn I learned in kindergarten." The problem is, we don't believe those things anymore. I wonder if we ever really did. Let me explain:

We tell children to play nice, yet we only do it when others play nice with us first. We only play nice as long as everyone else is willing to do it to us.

We tell children to tell the truth, but we are willing to bend the truth if it's in our best interest or we might lose something by telling the truth.

We tell children to include everyone, yet we exclude people who aren't like us.

We tell children never to fight, but when fights come our way we make sure we dig our feet in the ground.

We tell children to forgive and say sorry, but humbling ourselves to the point of apologizing so often is too much to ask of ourselves because we're so convinced we're right.

We tell children that if you can't say something nice about somebody not to say anything, yet with our words it seems so often we are willing to tear others down as fast as we can with gossip and rumors.

We tell children it'll be ok, but we're so overwhelmed by our worries that we can't possibly believe that's true.

We cherish the innocence and love children share, yet we're convinced our lives were made for stress and struggle, anger and frustration.

I am TERRIBLE at living this kind of life. I am the hypocrite of hypocrites. I cannot escape that unfortunate reality. But I believe in its truth. Call me naive or juvenile, but a world led by these rules seems like something worth fighting for. If it's impossible, then what is there left to hope for? I refuse to believe there are relationships that love cannot heal. I refuse to believe the world Ellen saw is impossible!

I think I understand why Jesus loves kids so much, going so far as to say it is to them that the kingdom of God belongs. Children can accept and give love better than anyone. They aren't concerned with the stresses we think are so important. They are innocent enough to believe that God really is bigger than the boogie man and really does love everyone enough to have the whole world in God's hands. I want that kind of faith, the kind that believes the impossible is, in fact, possible. I want to love and smile and experience joy through the eyes of a child, because that must be life and life to the fullest. Then maybe I can share those thoughts above with a 7-year-old and actually believe them.

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RSVP...

"It was just us. We'd call and say some words about how hot it was or how much our legs hurt. But when we said those words to each other, each of us had a mental catalog of similar experiences, and those experiences bound us together." -Donald Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years

"The kingdom of heaven is like a king who prepared a wedding banquet for his son. He sent his servants to those who had been invited to the banquet to tell them to come, but they refused to come." -Matthew 22:2-3

For the past couple of months, I've been trying to live a better story. Yeah, that's right, a better story. I drove a long way to go visit a girl, as if living out Robin Williams' famous call-to-arms, "I had to go see about a girl." I've started volunteering a couple times a week with a preschool for kids with special needs. I'm trying to be out and about doing any which thing while the weather is nice outside. I even shaved a strip into my right leg so that every time someone sees it and asks me about it, I can tell them about this idea of a better story I'm trying to live.

But a funny thing usually happens when we start talking about this "better story." Sometimes it's a giggle or even a full blown laugh. Sometimes it's a look of utter confusion. Sometimes it's a lot of questions. Rarely though is the response an overflowing excitement to jump in. I feel like this is something that is bursting out of my seams with joy and excitement, and yet in telling people about it, they don't seem to be quite as excited as I am. I'm learning that words carry immense weight, but what we do and experience is the defining quality of our lives.

Don't get me wrong. This is not a stand about "walking the walk and talking the talk." No no, this is about an invitation. You see, Jesus did a lot of teaching. A lot. But he was also SO much more than just a lot of words. He healed, he lived, he even cried. Sometimes I wonder if we haven't gotten so caught up in "talking" about Jesus with people that we've forgotten to "live" about Jesus with people. I need to explain though.

Every summer I would come back from Camp Barnabas I found myself telling as many people as I could about all the amazing things that happened and trying to explain the humor and blessing that could come from a conversation about boogers while wiping a guy my age's backside after a good solid #2. People would giggle and look interested, but at some level there is a disconnect where they can't possibly understand the beauty of everything I'm expressing. It's not that they don't care or aren't interested. But they weren't there.

Have you ever had that experience? You've just lived some amazing moment, and nobody else seems to quite get it. It's like a script without actors. We can read and read, line by line, a beautiful story with complex, deep characters who overcome incredible obstacles to achieve greatness. But without action, without movement and experience, without actors to connect with or drama to respond to, there is something missing. There is a level others aren't able to see because they never lived it. It's like Jesus.

Jesus sent his disciples out and told them to spread his word and gave them authority, but he also told them that they would be known by love and the fruit of their lives. It's as if they might have the greatest story ever told to tell, but people would see their lives and then they could have a picture of this kingdom these disciples kept talking about. The words could have been great, but if the people speaking them weren't offering something more, a better story, they would just be words. Sometimes I think that's why people get turned off to Jesus. They just hear word after word after word and then see nothing different about the story those people talking are living. It's like Paul says, "If I speak in tongues... but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal."

But it seems to me that the story Jesus offers is so much more than words. He talks about a kingdom of love and a kingdom of hope, not just in eternity but also living within us here and now. It's no wonder he compares this Kingdom to a feast a lot. It's a party, a celebration, a banquet! It is life and life to the fullest. It is love, joy, peace, patience. It is transforming. And yet, so often we live as if it is a script with no actors, as if it is just something to talk about while we go on living our stressful, packed, day-to-day lives.

I'm sick of that life. I'm convinced that God has an infinitely bigger plan for me than just getting to tomorrow safely without a scrape or a bruise. I'm convinced he's bigger than my fears and my anxieties and my insecurities. I'm convinced that his love is miraculous and will never leave me unsatisfied. So I'm trying to live this better story, a life marked by joy and passion, using my time to its fullest, all the while stumbling over myself making mistakes and getting caught up in my sin. But at the end, I hope this story invites others in. I want to share this story I'm living. To give people a picture and an invitation to this kingdom of love and joy without bounds.

forever unfinished... 

Princess...

To any princess,

     Valentine's Day has arrived again. Maybe you have a date or maybe you are stuck celebrating what has so unfortunately been named "Singles Awareness Day." Maybe there is someone who is planning out an incredible date for you, or maybe there's not. Maybe you're caught up in the romance and love, and maybe you're totally over the commercialism.
     But this is not really about Valentine's Day. This is simply an open letter to any woman, of any age, from a simple guy. Maybe it will mean something to you, and maybe it won't. But the point is the same. You are beautiful. You are lovable. You are strong and you are worth more than anyone could ever explain.
     They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. They are wrong. Because no matter what anybody may say when they see you, they cannot take your beauty away. No magazine, no commercial, no supermodel, no man, no woman. You see, in your eyes there is a light that can only shine from you, and there is a hope that only you can share. In your smile is a joy that no magazine can capture and in your heart there is a fire whose warmth is unparallelled. In who you are there is a preciousness unmatched in all the world, because in you is a life and a passion that is yours and yours alone and there is not another one like it.
    You are the only you, and in that, you are unique, beautiful in a way that only you can be. Your life is precious, because there isn't anyone like you. You are not a stereotype, not a group, not an interchangeable part. You cannot be replaced. You are valuable, special in your differences. You were made without blemish or flaw, knit together with the most careful of hands. There is no mistake in you. You're not too big, too skinny, too blonde, too brunette, too dumb, too smart, too shallow, too deep, too pale, too dark, too this or too that. The make-up you use to cover those spots may hide them from the world, but they also hide the beauty that lies in who you are.
   Who you are is a treasure worth all the gold and silver in the world. We want the you with the fifteen pounds you are desperately trying to lose, the you with the blemishes make-up desperately tries to cover, the you who carries the scars of past relationships, the you that you truly are, the you only you can be.
    But there's also no one that can convince you of any of this either. Not these words, nor the words of any loved one or friend. I could write these words 1000 times over, and they would never fully resonate. Not until YOU believe them. Not until you can see that the you that God made in God's own image, the you that was made without flaw or imperfection, is enough and is beautiful and is strong and is worthy of the greatest affections and love. My words, and the words of any acquaintance or loved one, will fall on a smiling face but deaf ears until you can accept the scariest truth of all: that you actually ARE beloved and that there is light in you that shines in the world around you, not because of what I or anybody else may say, but simply BECAUSE YOU ARE!
    If you have been hurt or find yourself trapped by the demons of broken relationships, I am truly sorry. Please do not allow the selfishness or sin of another to diminish the light inside of you. I wish I could say that I was perfect, or that there is a perfect someone out there. There's not. We will neglect your joy and your love. We will fall and fail you. We'll be selfish and inconsiderate. But that does not mean you do not deserve a love that is marked by patience, respect, kindness, and selflessness. If you find yourself with somebody who makes you feel like you aren't good enough, like you aren't the wonder that you are, like you don't have any light to offer the world, I want you to know that that is not love.
   Our actions are the fruit of the seeds in our heart. If someone tells you he or she loves you and cheats, lies, abuses your body, your soul or your emotions, they are lying. That is not love. And you must hear this: there is an infinitely more beautiful story being written for your life than the one in which you find yourself.
    They say mirrors tell us who we really are. Your mirror must be amazed every day that it shares your glance. It must be overwhelmed by the light and life it reflects. Let that light shine, the light that only you can share with the world, because it was created uniquely, just for you. It is a beautiful light. It brightens the lives of those around you. You see, you had it right when you were young imagining you were a princess in a castle. Nothing has changed in who that little girl was created to be. The god of the universe who put each star in the sky and counted the hairs on your head didn't make any mistakes in you. That God created a princess. And each day God is writing a love story with your name in it.

Love,
A Simple Guy

Cancer...

"Where is God in all this?" "Oh, He's up there. Somewhere... shouting down that He loves us, wondering why we can't hear him. You think?" -What Dreams May Come

"But I tell you, in this you are not right, for God is greater than man. Why do you complain to him that he answers none of man's words? For God does speak--now one way, now another--though man may not perceive it." -Job 33:12-14

2,000 years ago, a man with leprosy approached Jesus and falling on his knees cried out, "If you are willing, you can make me clean!" Keep this story in mind...

Merriam-Webster offers many definitions for the word "cancer," but one has begun to really stick with me: "n. something evil or malignant that spreads destructively." I think that covers the totality of what cancer is. It's more than just a clump of deadly cells. So much more. A little over a month ago, my Uncle John got some bad news: during surgery the doctors noticed something out of place. A week later the news was confirmed: an advanced tumor on his pancreas. All of a sudden, all of my family was shaken, left asking how this could happen to such an amazing man.

I love my uncle! He can sing and play a piano like nobody I know. He is one of the most brilliant minds I've ever met, which is probably why he is an engineer. And then this happened. Something evil and malignant is spreading destructively in his life.

One of the questions we ask so often sounds something like, "Why do bad things happen to good people?" I don't have the answer to this question. I don't know why God allows sadness and evil to exist in this world. I don't know if God put this cancer in my uncle. I don't know if God created Hurricane Katrina. I don't know! But there is something I do know. I know that God is bigger than my mind can possibly fathom, and thank God for the fact that he has a bigger plan in store than just making me happy. I know that somewhere in the midst of all of this God is working for good.

Years ago there lived a man named Job. Job was upright and righteous, and God allowed Satan to tear his life apart. Every sorrow and suffering imaginable, Job suffered. And at the end of the story, God finally speaks. As Job is at the end of his rope and ANGRY, God responds, "Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it?" In one moment, God changes the whole conversation. He takes Job's, "How could you do this God?" and tells him, "Where were you when I made the world? Don't you think if I can set the universe in motion I have a plan for this?"

Let's return to the man who begged Jesus to heal him (Mark 1:40.) He didn't run to Jesus and say, "Heal me!" No, he says, "If you are willing, you can make me clean." It's so much deeper! This man KNOWS Jesus can heal him. That's not what he's concerned with. He sees that God is painting a bigger picture than just his life. It's as if he says, "Jesus, if healing me is in your bigger plans, you can do it. But if it's not going to bring you glory, don't."

I believe that we were created by a God who still performs miracles and heals. But it's hard for me when I hear people say, "By the grace of God my child was healed." For every premature baby that survives to live a healthy life that isn't supposed to make it through the first night, there are others who never see their second day. We don't say, "By the grace of God he allowed this child to pass." But I have to believe that there are no mistakes. I have to believe that in everything God is faithful to his promise, "I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future." I just think his plans are bigger than mine. I think his point of view is way more beautiful than mine. After all this is the God, who placed each star in the sky and yet has numbered the hairs of my head.

A dear friend of mine has a sister who is going through a terrible ordeal. It has hurt this friend of mine. Hurt, in fact, is perhaps the most incomplete and insufficient word I can use. Not being able to do anything has torn her up. But in the midst of all this, I got a message from her the other day. "I just wish there was more I could do. But I'm just trusting right now. We all are. We have nothing else. But Jesus is using them in ways that I will never understand. And I'm trusting in that." That is the faith of the man who cried out to Jesus, for "we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." (Rom. 8:28)

I don't know why bad things happen. I don't know why people suffer. But I do know that God is at work in the midst of all things. He DOES NOT fail! So my prayer for my Uncle John has changed. Now, I pray like the man who met Jesus. "God, you CAN heal John. And if that will bring you glory, then you know I desire to see him healed. But I pray you give me the faith to know you story is bigger than mine and that your plans are more perfect than ANYTHING I can fathom." I believe in a god who is bigger than any tumor or any storm. But I also believe in a god who is bigger than just satisfying me.

forever unfinished...

Penguins...

"Superman isn't brave. He's smart and handsome, even decent. But he's not brave. No listen to me. Superman is indestructible, and you can't be brave if you're indestructible. It's people like you and your mother, people who are different and can be crushed and know it, but they keep going on out there every time" -"Angus"

"Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for special purposes and some and some for common use?" -Romans 9:21

Penguins have always been my favorite animals. It's kind of surprising to me that I don't wear tuxedos more often actually. They were always just such a fun animal to me growing up. I loved going to the zoo and watching the penguins waddle around and then dive through the water at blazing speeds. When I was in elementary school, we were supposed to send a list of our favorite things to a high school student. I wrote, "Penguins and outer space." Well, a month later, I received a little picture book written and illustrated by a senior at Santa Rosa High about crazy alien penguins that came to earth to play football with me. Needless to say, it's still in my closet... somewhere.

Every time today that I wish I was someone different or wish that I could change something about me, I think about those penguins flipping around in Antarctica. That's right. I think about penguins when self-conscious thoughts take root. Penguins. The birds that can't fly. The birds that live down in the sub-zero temperatures of the South Pole. The birds that swim. The birds that don't fit into any categories that all of the other birds do. They defy the norm. They are different. And they were made just the way they needed to be to survive.

Penguins don't look like everyone else, or anyone else for that matter. Penguins remind me that we were made just the way we needed to be for what we needed to be made for. The potter wouldn't have molded me any differently than he has, because he knows what I will face. He knows what gifts I will need to bless others and love as well as he allows me. Penguins remind me of that. Maybe they can remind you too.

forever unfinished...

Footsteps in the sand...

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky. In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there was one only.

This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints, so I said to the Lord, "You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there has only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?"

The Lord replied, "The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you."

-Mary Stevenson

forever unfinished...