Get yourself together

Pulling myself together is a line that we hear in our culture.  On most days, it's not that big of a deal...you know you find yourself going through the motions and pulling yourself together is not a great feat.  But when the waters begin to run over you and you feel the foundation below you moving, a bit of fear sets in.  If you aren't able to move or shift your position, you will probably fall.  Water gets deeper, you shift positions without submitting to the current or rush of waves...hoping you can withstand the trial; then pull yourself together at end to stand erect again.

It sounds crazy as I write the words because my brain begins processing each part of the struggle.  While I am struggling, I am hoping for a mind is clear enabling me to  make sound decisions.  Not caving to the pressure of losing; while facing frantic panic and survival face to face.  Sounds like an intense oncoming rush of the unknown.

How can I prepare?  You cannot.  You simply pour solid particles in your foundation and hope that as the water rises or rushes, you will stand.  Pulling yourself together seems like the 'self-made man' and admired my many.  Although we rarely see the fear that might hid beneath the victory lap at the end.

Because it's not the strength of my "great self" but actually in my weakness.  It's when I feel I literally cannot move on or forward, God is able to do great things.  It's those times that I know my strength was not perfect, in fact it's unraveling.  God knits together a perfect peace to restore unto me the joy of knowing Him through salvation.

It's mysterious for sure.  It doesn't add up and cannot be "pulled up by your bootstraps" or bull-dogging your way through; it's the act of giving sight to the blind with mud-pies.  It's freeing the man with no way to the pool and making him whole.  It's redeeming the woman at the well without condemnation.  It's in the courage to lower your friend to the Jesus knowing HE will make a difference. It's crying out when the words aren't audible or understandable.

Create in me a clean heart.

Far More Than I Can Imagine

I find that questions rise in my heart about what's the meaning of all this stuff we live for, expect more of and experience disappointment in...is this really the life God described in Ephesians "far more than you could ever imagine or guess or ask for beyond wildest dreams?" (The Message)

I don't know that there is an answer but the wrestling of the questions is an example of "working out my faith."  The answer isn't promised but the wrestling is necessary for us to grow.  It's the unpleasantness of not having a clean-cut answer that draws me back to the well.  See the conversations at the well were significant. So often I find myself painfully going back to the well, either on foot or crawling because I feel overwhelmed with the life I parted with in hope that Jesus will serve living water.

The process seems redundant and our learning curve seems flat.  I can't help but laugh that God must have a terrific sense of humor.  We must exhaust him at times.  Yet He is the perfect parent, offering patience, kindness and love, all wrapped in grace and mercy that overflows our cups.  At the same time, His eyes reach deep within our marrow providing tender mercy to move forward.  I compare this to my ability or inability as a parent, so filled with weariness of the questions and often so limited on grace and mercy.

Thankfully God is patient as he ministers to me and speaks to me through His word, music, fellow saints on this journey, communion with God's people, driving through the mountains, hearing the ocean and the list goes on.  He restores my soul midst my enemies; He allows me to draw from him at all times, never growing weary.  His compassions never end and gratefully He is slow to anger.

I pray that I will never cease to ask the questions or wrestle with trembling the experiences of faith.  I pray that I will not expect the people of God, to be God.  That I will offer a safe table with many voices to break bread with and experience life together.  Praise God for many chances; as I am just a sinner saved only by His grace and live to share this Good News with all mankind.

I will pray for you...

We've said this statement as we pass someone in the hallway or while jumping in our car to run off to our next commitment.  We've thought this statement as we listen to a list of prayer requests.  Often we have good intentions yet coming up short as we wrestle the command to bear one another's burdens.

Going away to a family camp for families that live with special needs opened my eyes as I saw the body of Jesus alive among the community of faith.  Not in conventional ways or how I envision God to transform His people but very powerful.  Talent shows where teens recite Psalm 23 because of the great comfort they experienced through deep trials and heartache.  The applause of heaven as one tells jokes and does somersaults to a funny tune...a young lady paralyzed singing a favorite Amy Grant song; that's how it happened.  Free of charge.  No time limit.  Pure joy and lots of cheering.

I am sure Jesus meant for His kingdom to be a real party; one with great laughter, dancing and even tears. This party is what separates us from how the world offers contentment and joy.  The party is planned by and for Jesus, the God of love who is love.  The One who suffered so that we might have life more abundantly. Abundant living is not what most of feel as we tread through life wondering how will we pay the bills, how can face the 'bad news' expected from the next physician's appointment, how to provide for and live in this world.  Yet God has His sights on exceedingly abundant living, midst suffering.

He offers peace that passes in/through the face of death, relieving us any fear.  He sits quietly reclined at the table, seeing all our needs.  He walks calmly over the rough sea so that we will share our storm with Him.  Actually trading burdens so that ours will be light.  He shines through the darkest of nights replacing fear with confidence.  Like my pastor said today, "there is always room for hope with Jesus."  As you say "I will pray for you," take this privileged opportunity to heart.  Speak.  Say the words.  Let your groanings be made known.

For then we may experience this "little light of mine" so that all may see Jesus.

Searching for the Party

Imagine the party of Jesus, searching under the bridges, alleys and in the ditches...places we dread to go and try to avoid while moving in/out of our daily routines.  Yet, Jesus asks us to search those places in preparation for the party, a kingdom party.   It's ironic we spend our lives practicing the "right" way to throw a party, making sure our etiquette is in place...well the other kind of party is what I experienced this week at camp.

Our family said Yes to attend a week of family camp called, Camp Celebration.  At the last minute, we said yes, but inside scared to death of what we might see.  Camp Celebration was a place of respite for all of us who feel unseen, misunderstood and left out.  For our children who are "patted on the head" and classified as cute. It's for our typical kiddos who live this life 24/7.  These children are often lonely and feel isolated in the way their family rolls.  Again the question, "why can't be just be normal."

Camp Celebration is decorated with the love of Jesus, staffed by hearts that don't pretend to know but offer service.  It's a journey from the moment you arrive to the moment you drive away, one week later.  It cannot be described; it is an experience.  You are able to see where blind eyes see; dance where lame legs dance; sing where voices, misunderstood, are in fact understood.  It's truly like no other experience.

First humility is a must. When you humble yourself and your will, you find respite awaits.  There is no shame or condemnation of how your family looks or survives this rugged life.  There is on the other hand, acceptance.  There is love.  You begin to hunger for the deep things within, things you forgot you could experience. You have face to face conversations about struggle with no etiquette-censored answers.  I know it's hard to see by reading my insufficient words.  So close your eyes, breathe and ask God to let you see.

You can nap.  You eat without children, with other adults while listening to music.  You have sweet laughter and cry among new friends.  You imagine the suffering being children with special needs; but it's adults too.  Fathers who suffer from disease or mamas who sit in wheelchairs while leading their families.  This camp is for all of us.  The funny part is those of us without obvious need are more broken than those who cannot walk, see, or talk.  We together gain strength from each other, inside God's arms.  The week's journey is seeing great laughter and not caving under life's details.

The story of the paralyzed man in modern day:  young teenage boys planning to play paintball up a mountain; one boy, confined to a wheelchair disappointed b/c his body didn't meet the requirements.  The other young men carried him up the mountain and together they played paintball.  You see carrying a friend to Jesus isn't usually through a roof-top, but walking the journey.  When the game of paintball arrives, you work out of love to bring your friend to the center of the game.  With splattered t-shirts, applause of heaven occurs.  A young man's disability becomes the catalyst for love to connect.

A glimpse of Jesus.