The Road Not Chosen

I woke up this morning with this song in my head:

 

How He Loves

by John Mark McMillan

He is jealous for me,
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realize just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me.

And oh, how He loves us so,
Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us all
Yeah, He loves us,

Oh! how He loves us,
Oh! how He loves us,
Oh! how He loves.

We are His portion and He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes,
If grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking.
And Heaven meets earth like an unforseen kiss,
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest,
I don’t have time to maintain these regrets,
When I think about, the way…

© Integrity's Hosanna! Music  CCLI#5032549

If you aren’t a Christ follower, these lyrics are utter nonsense to you.  Probably the whole “if grace is an ocean…” thing seems silly. The reality, whether you choose to believe it or not, is that God’s grace is…that…big.

For whatever reason, I have trouble absorbing that fact that He does love me that much. It is way too easy to list my faults and shortcomings alphabetically, sorted by category, and numbered for easy reference. I forget that God made us and knows that we are, well, human, with all that entails. THAT is why His grace is unfathomable, and His love as ferociously all encompassing as a hurricane.

I needed to wake up with that song this morning, as yesterday’s post would indicate. It will be OK. He has never failed me and never will.

Technorati Tags: faith,redemption

There Is a Plan

I have always been a political junkie/activist. My first memory of my political inclination was when I was in 7th grade. I led a sit-in protesting the fact that we weren’t allowed to wear pants to school. Oddly enough, the Principal compromised, letting us wear pants on Fridays which only further fueled our rebelliousness.

In eighth grade I wore a P.O.W. bracelet (Gregory Benton Jr. I still remember his name.) In ninth grade I wrote an essay on the fact that the Pledge of Allegiance wasn’t true any more. Not only did I get an F, but almost got kicked out of school. My parents met with the principal and pointed out that, while the topic was terrible, the essay was grammatically correct with no spelling errors and that I should at least get a C. In 10th grade I helped organize a local “Walk for Hunger” which was something Bobby Kennedy started. We got pledges and walked 10 miles to raise money to feed the poor. In 12th grade I wrote a poem for our high school literary magazine about one of our lecherous teachers. (Your Playboy key has rusted, your hand is on the door, Go drink your bottle of Geritol and bother me no more)  The principal wasn’t going to let me participate in graduation, even though the teacher who was the subject of the poem, told the principal not only was he not offended but he thought it was a great poem! Again my parents made the trek to the office. (By now they had a lot of practice.) My folks actually backed me up this time, saying it was free speech and there was nothing obscene in the poem, it was merely my opinion. Needless to say, I got to participate in my ceremony.

In college I volunteered at the local Free Clinic working the suicide and abortion hotlines. Part of this I am now very ashamed of as abortion had just become legal in California and I counseled many young women, presenting abortion as a viable option. (I was a card-carrying member of N.O.W. and feminist to the bone.) This one made my parents very, very angry to the point that my dad told me that if I insisted on volunteering there he wanted me out of the house.

So today, 2009 A.D., when I look at what is happening in our country and around the world I understand where the liberals/socialists are coming from. I considered myself a socialist from 11th grade until I was 23 or 24 years old. I know very well how they think, what their tactics are, and what their goal is. And, if I am not careful, I get scared, very scared, of what the future may look like. Fortunately I became a Christian when I was 22 and God has slowly but surely altered my worldview and politics.

The temptation arises often these days to be worried and fearful. Sometimes I feel like I literally have to grab the fear by the throat and declare “I will not fear because the Almighty One is in control of everything and He works all things together for good for those who love Him.” I pray. I meditate on the Bible. I center my thoughts around God and His Kingdom which will surely come no matter what the enemy does to try and stop it.

I read something on a blog yesterday that said “sometimes bad things have to happen first so that the good things will come.” They were referencing the death of Jesus which had to come before the resurrection could happen.  So I prepare my heart and mind for what may or may not come. I try and make peace with the thought that Christians in America may have their religious freedoms taken totally away. We are not so special that we will automatically escape what millions of our fellow believers endure daily around the world.

I am still political but that is secondary to being Christian. I pray for the President and Congress to be wise and make good decisions, but I also write to them when I disagree with what they do, savoring the fact that we still have freedom of speech. Conscious of that. on this blog I write about God and about politics while I still publically can. 

Most importantly I know how this all ends, being assured to my core that God will triumph over Satan and what we endure in this life is just a tiny moment compared with the eternity we will experience joyfully with our King. I leave you with this wonderful encouragement from the late S.M. Lockridge.

 

Does This Mean 1 in 3 “Christians” Have Poor Reading Comprehension?

1 in 3 'Christians' say 'Jesus sinned'
Barna poll shows adults develop their own beliefs

By Bob Unruh © 2009 WorldNetDaily

Half of Americans who call themselves "Christian" don't believe Satan exists and fully one-third are confident that Jesus sinned while on Earth, according to a new Barna Group poll.

Another 40 percent say they do not have a responsibility to share their Christian faith with others, and 25 percent "dismiss the idea that the Bible is accurate in all of the principles it teaches," the organization reports.

Pollster George Barna said the results have huge implications. "Americans are increasingly comfortable picking and choosing what they deem to be helpful and accurate theological views and have become comfortable discarding the rest of the teachings in the Bible," he said. "Growing numbers of people now serve as their own theologian-in-residence," he continued. "One consequence is that Americans are embracing an unpredictable and contradictory body of beliefs."

The results are a dramatic departure from the nation's foundings, when leaders held prayer meetings in the halls of Congress and attributed to Almighty God the victory in the Revolutionary War.

Barna noted the millions of people who describe themselves as Christian and believe Jesus sinned, or those who say they will experience eternal salvation because they confessed their sins and accepted Christ as their savior, "but also believe that a person can do enough good works to earn eternal salvation."

Barna's private, non-partisan, for-profit research group in Ventura, Calif., has been studying cultural trends since 1984. For this study, the organization randomly sampled 1,004 adults across the continental U.S. The study has a margin of error of 3.2 percent at the 95 percent confidence level.

For the study, "born-again Christians" were defined as people who said they had made a personal commitment to Jesus Christ that was still important in their life today and who also indicated they believed that when they die they will go to heaven because they had confessed their sins and had accepted Jesus Christ as their savior. The results highlight the significant shift in beliefs held by Americans, the study said.

"For much of America's history, the assumption was that if you were born in America, you would affiliate with the Christian faith," the report said. Now however, "half of all adults now contend that Christianity is just one of many options that Americans choose from and that a huge majority of adults pick and choose what they believe rather than adopt a church or denomination's slate of beliefs."

Fifty percent of Americans believe Christianity no longer has a lock on people's hearts. Two-thirds of evangelical Christians (64 percent) and three out of every five Hispanics (60 percent) embraced that position, making them the groups most convinced of the shift in America's default faith.

In contrast, the poll showed the importance of belief was growing along with the number of options about what to believe.

"By an overwhelming margin – 74 percent to 23 percent – adults agreed that their religious faith was becoming even more important to them than it used to be as a source of objective and reliable moral guidance."

Forty percent of respondents who do not affiliate with Christianity confirmed the increasing influence of their beliefs.

The result "underscored the fact that people no longer look to denominations or churches to offer a slate of theological views that the individual adopts in its entirety," the report said.

By a margin of 71 percent to 26 percent adults "noted that they are personally more likely to develop their own set of religious beliefs than to accept a comprehensive set of beliefs taught by a particular church," the report said.

Nearly two-thirds of "born again Christians" adopted that stance.

"In the past, when most people determined their theological and moral points of view, the alternatives from which they chose were exclusively of Christian options - e.g., the Methodist point of view, the Baptist perspective, Catholic teaching, and so forth," Barna noted. "Today, Americans are more likely to pit a variety of non-Christian options against various Christian-based views. This has resulted in an abundance of unique worldviews based on personal combinations of theology drawn from a smattering of world religions such as Christianity, Buddhism, Judaism, Hinduism, and Islam as well as secularism."

And Now A Message From Dr. King

Excerpt “Letter From A Birmingham Jail” April 16, 1963

I have heard numerous southern religious leaders admonish their worshipers to comply with a desegregation decision because it is the law, but I have longed to hear white ministers declare: "Follow this decree because integration is morally right and because the Negro is your brother." In the midst of blatant injustices inflicted upon the Negro, I have watched white churchmen stand on the sideline and mouth pious irrelevancies and sanctimonious trivialities. In the midst of a mighty struggle to rid our nation of racial and economic injustice, I have heard many ministers say: "Those are social issues, with which the gospel has no real concern." And I have watched many churches commit themselves to a completely other worldly religion which makes a strange, un-Biblical distinction between body and soul, between the sacred and the secular.

I have traveled the length and breadth of Alabama, Mississippi and all the other southern states. On sweltering summer days and crisp autumn mornings I have looked at the South's beautiful churches with their lofty spires pointing heavenward. I have beheld the impressive outlines of her massive religious education buildings. Over and over I have found myself asking: "What kind of people worship here? Who is their God? Where were their voices when the lips of Governor Barnett dripped with words of interposition and nullification? Where were they when Governor Wallace gave a clarion call for defiance and hatred? Where were their voices of support when bruised and weary Negro men and women decided to rise from the dark dungeons of complacency to the bright hills of creative protest?"

Yes, these questions are still in my mind. In deep disappointment I have wept over the laxity of the church. But be assured that my tears have been tears of love. There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love. Yes, I love the church. How could I do otherwise? I am in the rather unique position of being the son, the grandson and the great grandson of preachers. Yes, I see the church as the body of Christ. But, oh! How we have blemished and scarred that body through social neglect and through fear of being nonconformists.

There was a time when the church was very powerful--in the time when the early Christians rejoiced at being deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society. Whenever the early Christians entered a town, the people in power became disturbed and immediately sought to convict the Christians for being "disturbers of the peace" and "outside agitators."' But the Christians pressed on, in the conviction that they were "a colony of heaven," called to obey God rather than man. Small in number, they were big in commitment. They were too God-intoxicated to be "astronomically intimidated." By their effort and example they brought an end to such ancient evils as infanticide and gladiatorial contests.

Things are different now. So often the contemporary church is a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. So often it is an arch defender of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the church's silent--and often even vocal--sanction of things as they are.

But the judgment of God is upon the church as never before. If today's church does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose its authenticity, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century. Every day I meet young people whose disappointment with the church has turned into outright disgust.

Perhaps I have once again been too optimistic. Is organized religion too inextricably bound to the status quo to save our nation and the world? Perhaps I must turn my faith to the inner spiritual church, the church within the church, as the true ecclesia and the hope of the world. But again I am thankful to God that some noble souls from the ranks of organized religion have broken loose from the paralyzing chains of conformity and joined us as active partners in the struggle for freedom. They have left their secure congregations and walked the streets of Albany, Georgia, with us. They have gone down the highways of the South on tortuous rides for freedom. Yes, they have gone to jail with us. Some have been dismissed from their churches, have lost the support of their bishops and fellow ministers. But they have acted in the faith that right defeated is stronger than evil triumphant. Their witness has been the spiritual salt that has preserved the true meaning of the gospel in these troubled times. They have carved a tunnel of hope through the dark mountain of disappointment. I hope the church as a whole will meet the challenge of this decisive hour.

So Much To Say,

not enough time to write. That's my life the last few weeks. This voice in my brain occasionally yells "Hey! You! Remember that blog thing you do? You should do THAT!" Of course there are many other "voices" demanding attention as well as year-end activities both personal, job and church-wise. Since I'm home with Evan (who has the stomach flu) I thought this would be a good time to do a quick post.

I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia last July, after over a year of increasing pain. The pain started in earnest the second or third week Evan was in the hospital in March, 2007, for his major hip surgery. I chalked the pain up to sleeping in chairs, on hospital floors, not sleeping, stress, not eating, stress, etc. The pain continued to get worse even after Evan was well on his way to recovery. I had friends who have "fibro" that kept trying to get me to go to a doctor. Buy my life motto when it comes to pain has always been "shake it off!" but this I couldn't.

I gave up and went to my internist, Dr. Bob, who ran a battery of tests to eliminate everything else that it could be. That, if you didn't know, is how the disease is diagnosed. Eliminate and then diagnose and next prescribe and see what happens. He put me on some medicine that began to help me feel better, very slowly mind you, but there has been progress. For which I'm grateful. But still...there are bad days, with good days interspersed.

This has been one of the most frustrating seasons of my life. I've always had health "issues". Always. Double pneumonia resulting in lung scaring - age 5, first migraine - age 12, endometriosis - age 16 ending in hysterectomy age 34. (Getting one other bizzaro disease - priceless!) I had learned that if I wanted to have any kind of life pushing through was the way to go. So that's how I roll, as they say.

Here is the thing that angers me about "fibro": if you try to push through your body will SHUT YOU DOWN like Shaq blocking the game winning shot. When I've gone too far my body hurts worse and for a longer time. My brain refuses to let me speak in full sentences, as if I had suffered a stroke. Etc. etc.

So what is the upside to this? Could there possibly be one? Yes, Virginia, there is. At the age of 50 (I refuse to accept 51 until it gets here on Wednesday) I have to tune into my body no matter what else is demanding my attention. You know, all those things we always intend to do regularly but don't; eat well, rest, exercise, don't stress out. 

I also am finally really learning to be grateful, let me restate that, ENORMOUSLY GRATEFUL for each day. Grateful for the days without pain, grateful for the days with pain because they remind me of the blessings of days without pain, grateful that it isn't something worse, or life-ending, grateful for the blessings I do have.

So this post is definitely not to garner sympathy for me but to encourage you to to live an ENOURMOUSLY GRATEFUL life every day. No matter what! So celebrate not just the season, but the blessings provided to us which started with the birth of our Savior.

 

Technorati Tags: fibromyalgia

Thoughts for Today

Therapy for Post-Election Blues by Pastor Mark Chanski

So, you’re discouraged and downcast about the outcome of the presidential election?  You’d hoped for better.  You’re concerned that we’ve taken a huge step backwards on such crucial morality issues like abortion, homosexuality, and stem cell research.  You fear our nation is culturally slipping into a season of ethical darkness.  You’re tempted to think that evil has somehow snuck up into the heavenly throne-room, seized, gagged, and bound God in a celestial corner, while unchecked wickedness will now trash history for a four-year term.  You may feel the onset of spiritual depression.

Don’t go there.  The children of God have every reason to rejoice in their Father’s undisturbed and sovereign reigning over the events of the November election.  The Bible is clear.  The decision was ultimately the Lord’s.  “For not from the east, nor from the west, nor from the desert comes exaltation; but God is the Judge; He puts down one, and exalts another” (Psalm 75:6-7).  We ought to hold to the deep conviction that Barack Obama is God’s man for the White House.

The carpenter holds his power drill.  He’s finished with the drill bit for boring holes.  He removes and puts down the boring bit, passes by the screw-driver bit, then selects and inserts the sanding bit.  He has purposeful and important work to do.  Likewise, the Lord has put down Bush/Cheney, passed by McCain/Palin, and exalted Obama/Biden.  He has work to do. 

(Read the rest here.)

Waking To Worship

I woke up this morning (waaay too early!) thinking about worship. Maybe it was on my mind because Harold & I are getting ready to host a worship leaders retreat this week. But really the heart of what I was thinking about was all the times worship has gotten me through hard times. Here are a couple of those instances.

I thought about the first night after Evan was born. We had found out that day that he had Down Syndrome. We had no clue what that meant except that our perfect little baby that we had dreamed of wasn’t who we thought he was going to be. I was in a room on the maternity floor by myself. Harold had gone home for the night, exhausted. As I lay in that bed, I didn’t know what to pray or think or feel. Almost reflexively I started to sing worship songs to God. It seemed as though there was nothing else I could do. As I poured my emotions out in worship, God was faithful to comfort me and give me peace. Over the next difficult months I would remember that night and return to that place of worship to make it through the hard times.

I also thought about when I had heard that my favorite uncle had killed himself. My mom called early in the morning (never a good sign) to tell me the news. I was stunned, sure she had the wrong uncle. He was the last person you would think would do that, as is often sadly the case. He was the one who had always been there for me, the one who had welcomed Evan’s birth with open arms and became one of Evan’s best buddies. At his funeral I met a friend of his who was a retired special ed. teacher. She told me how my uncle would call her to find out info on therapies and other things related to Down Syndrome. How could he be dead? How could we have not known? For weeks, I was a wreak and again turned to worship. God again was faithful to come to me and help me process the heartache.

In the middle of the hard times, when we don’t understand what is going on in our lives, there comes a time when we just need to acknowledge that we are not in control of life. The Creator of the Universe is in control and He loves us more than we can ever imagine. Below are some verses I have found particularly comforting in my difficult times.

 

Psalm 42

As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God.

My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God?

My tears have been my food day and night, while men say to me all day long, "Where is your God?"

These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I used to go with the multitude, leading the

procession to the house of God, with shouts of joy and thanksgiving among the festive throng.

Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me?

Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.

By day the LORD directs his love, at night his song is with me— a prayer to the God of my life.

 

Lamentations 3:17-26

I have been deprived of peace; I have forgotten what prosperity is.

So I say, "My splendor is gone and all that I had hoped from the Lord."

I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall.

I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me.

Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassion's never fail.

They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him."

The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him;

it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.

Who's Your Daddy?

Getting ready for work this morning, I was listening to a local Christian radio station ramble on about an upcoming music festival. They were giving out directions to the venue, talking about what people should bring for the two day event. Somewhere in the midst of this they were talking about the Barlow Girls and how they had made being a virgin "cool". The female announcer went on proclaiming it will be so much easier for other Christian girls to keep their virginity because they have the Barlow Girls to look up to.

I stopped putting on my eye shadow and exclaimed "That ain't gonna help in the heat of passion, baby!" I mean, hooray for all the virgins out there but you better have a more concrete reason for keeping your virginity than the Barlow Girls. Has our Christianity become so secularized that we have to look to a Christian celebrity for reasons to do what God (the Creator of All That Exists) has told us to do? Is doing (or not doing) something because some famous Christian does it much different than wearing a certain brand of clothing because that's what Gwenyth Paltrow wears?

Romans 1:16 says "For I am not ashamed of the Gospel for it is the power of salvation to all who believe." When passions and fleshly desires are pulling at us, we have to use the gift that God has given us. Our redemption isn't just a ticket into heaven, it gives us a real, tangible power that we can access to help us do the right thing at the right moment.  Hopefully when temptation comes our way we have the guts to say, "No, I won't because I serve and worship the Almighty God and He says I can't do that!" not "No, I want to be a virgin like (fill in Christian celebrity name here)."

Being a virgin is never going to be "cool" in the world's eyes. In fact, being a Christian is never going to be either. We answer ultimately to God. Our love and awe for Him is what should motivate all our actions. He is the one who we call on in times of temptation. He is the one who will help us escape the snare of the enemy. We have no power to help ourselves except that which comes from him.

And yes, we are to encourage one another to do good but we can't be the reason each other does what is right. Humans will always fail themselves and each other. Our love of our Father has to be why we keep to the narrow path. He alone is our Redeemer and for that reason we do the right thing, cool or not.

Permission To Hope

I was thinking about the day we found out that Evan has Down Syndrome. I refused to believe it until the blood test came back, praying desperately that the doctors were wrong. My obstetrician told me she was sending a nurse to talk to us who had a teenager who had Down’s. “Don’t you dare send anyone to me,” I told her, “I’m not talking to anyone. There’s no point until we know for sure.” Of course, we did know for sure. I just didn’t want to face it.

Later that day a short woman in scrubs came into my room. Here was the mom, the mom I didn’t want to talk to. She, of course, knew exactly what I was thinking & feeling. Settling onto the edge of my bed, she told Harold & me about her son, not just medical facts, but about her son. She told us what his favorite activities were, what he thought of school, what his friends were like, and how much he loved to talk on the phone.

By the end of, well, I can’t call it a conversation because I wouldn’t talk to her, but when she was done gently opening a door for us so we could glimpse her son’s life and our son’s future; she gave us a gift that we still use today. It didn’t come in a box, there wasn’t wrapping paper to tear open and no bag to peek inside. What she gave us was permission. Permission to hope.

There have been many times since then that we have had to remind ourselves that indeed there is reason to hope. When people or society has told us Evan wouldn’t do this or that, a glimmer of hope would shine. “That’s right!” we’d say. “We forgot that it is okay to hope! Maybe he really can learn to walk. To talk. To read. To even cook someday.” Things are rarely as dire as I imagine them to be. Hope, as they say, shines eternal.

Because of our faith in Christ and his resurrection, hope is our inheritance. No matter what this life holds, be it good or bad, at the end of our days we get to leave this place and go to be with God, where there are no more tears, pain, or Down Syndrome.

If you feel like all hope is lost, let me officially give you permission to hope. As long as you have breath, you can call out to the One who created hope. He will come and help, if you ask him to, I promise. Ecclesiastes 9:4 (humorously) says: “Anyone who is among the living has hope—even a live dog is better off than a dead lion.” On a more serious note Jeremiah 20:11 promises “For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

 

“Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” (Romans 12:12 NIV)

Sins of the Father

I am a cynical person. I admit it. Too much seen, too much experienced, many things barely survived. It just isn't easy to shock me. Thus it was odd to find that I was shocked that someone had the bad taste a couple of weeks ago to ask Chelsea Clinton a question about her father's affair with Monica Lewinsky. Since then at least two other people have asked similar questions, basically in reference to how this event affected her mother.

As I read these accounts in the news I couldn't help but see in my mind the photo of Chelsea walking towards the Presidential helicopter with a parent on either side of her, as she held each of their hands. It was the day that President Clinton admitted to the affair. His daughter was 18 years old at the time and a Stanford University freshman. Untold thousand upon thousands of kids have had to deal with a parents infidelity, but not as publicly as Chelsea. What a hell that must have been for her!

One thought that occurred to me as I read about all this was how a similar thing seems to happen to Christians often. Has a non-Christian ever said to you, "How can you be a Christian? What about all those people who were killed during the Spanish Inquisition? Or on the Crusades? Or what about (fill in name of famous immoral or greedy Christian here)?"

Each of us is responsible for how we live our own lives. We answer ultimately to God for the days that he gives us on earth. Did we use our time wisely? Were we kind, compassionate, generous? Did we follow the example of Christ as best we could? We can't answer for what other people have done just like Chelsea can't, and shouldn't, have to answer for her father's or her mother's actions.