"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...
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
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...
"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...
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
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...
"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...
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