Life – Page 15 – A Work in Progress

John vs The Spic N Span

I made breakfast this morning, and it was pretty good. I’d just finished cleaning up, and then Jen was going to go get her toes did. It was time for another dudes morning.

David watched an episode of Lego Ninjas on YouTube while John and I relaxed on the couch with some Barney on the big screen.

John got up and I saw him head toward the kitchen.

“Where are you going, John Ryan?” I asked.

“Dink.”

“Daddy will get you a drink.” I got up off the couch and headed to the kitchen while John disappeared around the corner.

I heard the refrigerator door open followed by a crash.

“uh oh.”

“Aw, crap.”

John had opened the door and grabbed onto one of the shelves, which came off the door, spilling the door contents onto the floor, including a glass jar of Alfredo sauce, which promptly exploded.

“Dink.”

“Crap.”

I got John his dink and planted him on the couch with a fresh episode of Barney, then headed to the kitchen for cleanup: The Sequel.

I got the broom, the mop, and a large bottle of Spic n Span cleaner from the closet. I leaned the mop and broom against the bar and set the Spic n Span on the kitchen table.

I knelt down and began picking up chunks of broken glass, dropping them into the trash one by one and cursing softly under my breath.

I finished picking up the broken glass and wiping up the Alfredo sauce and stood up to get the broom.

No broom, and no mop. I realized Barney had been turned off.

“John, where are you?” I called.

“Dayee. Shire, bat (Daddy. Shower, bath).” from the hallway.

What now? I wondered. I saw this sitting on the table and knew no good could come of it.

I came around the corner and John was standing in the hallway with the broom and the mop at his feet. There was a strong smell of Spic n Span in the air.

In his zeal to clean, he’d sprayed enough cleaner on his chest and arms to completely soak himself, then dragged the mop and broom into the hall to start cleaning.

“Dayee. Shire, bat.”

“Aw, crap.”

We headed off for a shire and a bat and had a grand time. It took me another 5 minutes to clean the bathroom.

I got him dressed, and we headed back to the scene of the crime. John wanted to help clean up, while finishing his dink.

All of that between 10 and 11. We’re sitting on the couch now and hanging out with Elmo. John is grounded from the kitchen.

Well, not just because of her. It isn’t because of something she said, and she never really shared anything with me that I can remember. What I do remember is standing outside her hospital room not long before she died and hearing her pray with an old pastor from the Bahamas, the father of a family friend.

I knew she’d read the bible occasionally prior to that day, but she hadn’t talked about it. At least not to me. What I heard from outside that room was the old man’s voice becoming stronger as he prayed–his accent less pronounced. Then I heard my mom’s faint voice going through a prayer of repentance.

I remember sitting with her a while after that, after they’d induced her final coma. I was alone in the room and I remember holding a newspaper and not being able to read it. I remember looking at her, and she was so skinny. Her cheeks were sunken in and her mouth slightly open, rasping breath in and out. Her eyes were cracked open a little, too, but she wasn’t really there anymore. Morphine is a great and terrible thing.

I remember telling her that my sisters and I loved her, and that it was OK for her to go.

It was a few days after that she actually did. My sister Valorie was with her. I remember the call coming in the small hours of the morning.

I don’t know how deeply Jesus sank into her heart in the time she knew him, but I like to think he spoke to her as the lover from Song of Songs:

“Come now, my love.

My lovely one, come.

For you, the winter has passed,

The snows are over and gone,

The flowers appear in the land,

The season of joyful songs has come.

The cooing of the Turtledove is heard in our land.

Come now, my love.

My lovely one, come.

Let me see your face. And Let me hear your voice, for your voice is sweet and your face is beautiful.

Come now, my love,

My lovely one, come.

Song of Songs 2:10 – 14

I became a believer in Jesus in March of 2000, but I don’t think I really experienced the fullness of the healing he can bring until 2007. I heard author Brennan Manning preach from the above scripture and it resonated in my heart.

I think Jesus calls out to all of us in that voice one day. Henri Nouwen speculates the Abba of Jesus called those words to him while he hung on the cross:

Come now my love, my lovely one come.

So that Brennan Manning conference was in my mind when my pastor gave a sermon not long after. He was relating the story of his mother’s passing, and how he led her to Christ. A radio softly played old music in her hospital room and at the moment of her death, the song “Heaven, I’m in Heaven” came on the radio.

That absolutely wrecked me.

I remember asking a friend from Healing Prayer to pray with me after the service and just coming unglued, totally falling apart in the third row of the sanctuary. I don’t remember what my friend prayed that morning, but I realized that was the first time I’d ever really grieved my mother’s loss.

I remember peace coming over me that morning, and it while the arms around me were my friend Ron’s, they were really the arms of the Christ, and his comfort was whispered into my ear through the earnest intercession of a good friend.

I think that morning prepared my heart for my wife more than anything else. I know I would have been useless to her had it not happened.

I’m feeling that comfort anew this morning. I’m sitting here on the couch holding my sleeping son and typing on my phone with my right thumb. I feel the love of my savior through my little man who loves me so much and sleeps so comfortably on his daddy’s lap.

It wasn’t my mom who led me to Christ–it was many things and many people all working together that did it. Many prayers rose to heaven on my behalf.

It was my mom who eventually led me to healing, whether she meant to or not.

So until God calls to me from Song of Songs, I will serve him to the best of my ability, and I will try and show my kids through my life what he’s done for me.

0727, 2 September 2012

Hypocrisy, the RNC, and the Empty Chair

I think it’s interesting how political satire–political mockery–is taken, depending on the target of the mockery, and the deliverer of the material.

In my opinion, one of the great things about this country is we’re free to question, criticize, and even make a considerable amount of sport of whomever we’d like, especially during election season.

Except we are only allowed by the extremely biased media the freedom to do those things if the object of the satire or mockery goes against the far left status quo.

Nothing quite so worthy of mockery, mean-spirited “satire” or even outright name calling as a conservative, Christian, or Republican.

God help anyone who criticizes or mocks President Obama. Apparently, the only president in history whose policies, ideals, and person are beyond reproach or question.

If one is unfortunate enough to make fun of or disagree with any of this president’s policies, or perhaps point out a bit of tarnish on his halo, they will soon find out just how deep the tolerance of the liberal side of the coin actual runs.

They’ll have their intellect questioned. No one with any kind of intelligence can have conservative values.

They’ll have their patriotism and even their faith questioned. Check that last part. If you believe in anything other than a liberal agenda there goes your intellect again.

So far as satire goes, the most vocal and pointed satirists in the entertainment industry (people like Jon Stewart and Bill Maher, for instance) have remained nearly silent regarding President Obama.

This is not because he hasn’t said anything worthy of mockery–“you didn’t build that” comes to mind–but likely because to question the President or liberal policies is to be branded intolerant, to be filled with hate, or even be racist.

Last night’s Republican National Convention comes to mind. Clint Eastwood delivered a “speech” that was really more of a pointed commentary at President Obama and his last 4 years of mediocrity, mostly in the form of a one-sided conversation with the President Himself, “seated” in an empty chair next to the podium.

Eastwood’s speech was supposedly completely ad-libbed, which would explain some of the stiltedness and occasional moments of silence. He did have probably the best “line” of the evening, something to the effect of:

We own this country. The government is in our employ. If the President is not doing his job, we’ve got to let him go.

No hidden meaning there.

So today, I’ve seen a lot of stuff in social media that was outright insulting to both Governor Romney, his wife, and Mr Eastwood, who is now apparently suffering from dementia.

This is the same man whose commercial during the Superbowl was widely viewed as being supportive of the Obama administration, which made him more of a media darling than the goat he is today.

Funny how that works.

Plenty more ugly to come in the days, weeks, and months ahead as we progress toward election day.

I can accept that. It’s just becoming increasingly clear that tolerance has become clearly little more than a buzzword without meaning, and free speech clearly is not that free.

Clearest of all to me lately, is that the liberal left (especially the entertainment “lobby”), as my mom would have said, “Can dish it out, but they can’t take it.”

Of Conviction, Inspiration, and Change

There’s this scene in the movie Sling Blade where the camera moves through the day room in a mental hospital, passing by various patients on its way to Karl, played by Billy Bob Thornton, who is quietly sitting in a chair looking out a window.

The audience is offered brief glimpses of many of the patients, and their common features all seem to be lots of slack jaws and staring eyes.

I was thinking about my high school Sunday school class the other day and that image occurred to me.

It has been no walk in the park to try and get those kids interested and participating. I’ve been observing the other teachers and taking lots of notes, and hopefully my next lesson will go a little better.

Certainly, part of the problem must lay with the students having difficulty relating to someone so much older than they are. Also that it’s likely they are not in class by choice, but because their parents make them go.

But I think the problem is larger than that. It’s more than my teaching style and that the students may be tired from a long evening of playing Call of Duty or instant messaging their “bestie” on their smart phones.

I think we’ve raised a generation of kids that has forgotten about the passion of Jesus. By that I do not mean his long walk down the Via Dolorosa, but his zeal for his father, and his Father’s house.

It’s my job to find a way to reawaken that in them. It’s not just about Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world, though he does.

It’s about reminding these kids that Jesus is relevant to them, and is not simply a set of ideals passed down from their parents like a set of holiday china. This is the same Jesus that wept over a city. The same Jesus that calmly made a whip from leather cords and then cleared the temple.

But how do you instill passion and zeal in a generation that seems to care for very little other than what’s before them at that moment?

That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I feel a sense of urgency about it because now is when these kids are going to learn the things that will stay with them. The urgency comes from the knowledge that if things about the world that so desperately need changing are ever going to be changed, it will be these kids that do it.

I think of movements like Jesus Culture, who get so much right. I think it will take some kind of revival to wake this kids up, and that it starts with us. It starts with parents, teachers, and pastors.

We need to find a way to not only make Jesus relevant and real to them, but also to help them realize that while Jesus is the hope of nations, they are, too.

Until (and unless) Jesus returns, they have the unique opportunity to shape their own futures.

How do we do this?

I believe there are several things we need to do.

1. Awaken in them a hunger and a thirst for righteousness. There seems to be an almost choking apathy amongst young people today–the “whatever” generation.

2. Inspire them to act for the kingdom. Retreats and conference highs are great, but we need to be there when they come off it and the real work begins. Inspiration is not a one time thing. We lead from the front and we kick them in the pants when they need it. We need to do this for them:

3. Pray for them. Lift them up. Let them know they can do anything, with effort, with God, and with accountability.

4. Teach them it will not be easy to change the world. It will be tough. Teach them that changing the world starts with their own world. Search their lives and their hearts and identify the areas lacking and bring God to those places. Invite healing.

5. Walk with them. Let them know they aren’t alone and never were. We might be out of touch with their reality in respect to our own, but if we show them consistency and back our pledges to be there for them and pray for them with the actuality of doing those things, then we can change that part, too.

I am not writing this because I think I have all the answers. Certainly the opposite is true. The conviction I’ve been feeling lately is my own, based on my own experiences and my own prayers. It could even be that the huge pile of words I’ve just expelled is solely for my own edification. But on the off chance there’s even 1 other person out there who shares my struggles and convictions, I’m going to put both this and myself out there.

And I’m going to pray.

The Anthem

I was listening to music this morning. This song, actually. The Anthem, by Jake Hamilton:

and a snatch of an Ozzy Osborne song occurred to me. “I don’t want to change the world, I don’t want the world to change me.”

I don’t want to change the world

I wondered why someone wouldn’t change the world, given the opportunity? There are so many terrible things going on in a place that was not designed to be terrible. I could list a million things I would change about the world so it would be more to my liking. Instead, I’ll just mention what I’d change about the world to make it better.

I’d bring God to it, bring Jesus. Like Galadriel told Frodo, “a light when all other lights go out.”

I don’t want the world to change me

That much at least is true. I don’t want the world to change me. Not because I don’t think I need to be changed, but because I want God to do the changing.

So I listened to that song again and I thought that change is possible, but that if it happens it’s up to us. Not a politician, or a president.

The change we can believe in comes from God. It breaks chains, it delivers, and it sets captives free. If you want that kind of change, you’ll have to seek it out, and work for it.

Here’s the lyrics to The Anthem. Maybe it will inspire you, too.

I can hear the footsteps of my King
I can hear his heartbeat beckoning
In my darkness He has set me free
Now I hear the spirit calling me

He’s calling, wake up child, it’s your turn to shine
You were born for such a time as this
He’s calling, wake up child, it’s your turn to shine
You were born for such a time as this
Such a time as this

I can hear a holy rumbling
I’ve begun to preach another king
Loosing chains and breaking down the walls
I want to hear the Father when He calls

He’s calling, wake up child, it’s your turn to shine
You were born for such a time as this
He’s calling, wake up child, it’s your turn to shine
You were born for such a time as this
He’s calling, wake up child, it’s your turn to shine
You were born for such a time as this
Such a time as this

This is the anthem of our generation
Here we are God, shake our nation
All we need is your love
You captivate me

I am royalty, I have destiny
I have been set free, I’m gonna shake history
I’m gonna change the world

Unity in Diversity?

The pictures above are displayed above the proscenium at the San Diego House of Blues, with “Unity in Diversity” written beneath and “All Are One” above.

Certainly, all are not one.

From the little I know about world religions, pretty much all the major ones are symbolically depicted. There’s Catholicism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism, Brahmanism, Islam, and several other isms I didn’t recognize.

Unity in Diversity. All are one.

I’m not sure what they’re trying to get at with that, but I’m going to go ahead and call BS on the slogans.

Diversity in the symbols depicted, certainly. There’s yin/yang, the star and crescent of Islam, and many other statues and symbols except 1.

I didn’t see a cross.

Considering the rubber stamp political correctness that’s become ubiquitous these days, the lack of representation for Protestant Christianity is perhaps understandable.

Jesus has become persona non grata for much of the world, and representing the instrument of His death and mankind’s hope in a place where secular and sometimes even evil music shakes the roof on an almost daily basis could be seen as ***gasp*** favoring mainstream Christianity.

It was interesting because while diversity and “tolerance” was proclaimed from the proscenium, the message of Christ was fearlessly proclaimed from the stage. First, by opening act Jake Hamilton.

Followed by headliner Jeremy Camp, who turned a very unlikely place and a few hundred strangers into a church service (no video for his set. I was busy worshipping).

It was a great and amazing evening, and the whole point of writing this is simply to say I am continually blown away when I see firsthand how God can use anyone at any time.

During the pre-show Q&A and meet-and-greet, Jeremy Camp was humble, and kind, and very funny. He answered everyone’s questions honestly and straightforwardly, even taking time to lay hands on a young man and pray for healing for him.

The music was great, and the word was proclaimed. During Overcome, Jeremy even had hundreds of strangers link raised hands in praise to the one who’s worthy.

The smartest and best thing Camp said came toward the end of the evening, when he had very little voice left. He looked out over the crowded floor and said “the best thing I can tell you is ‘read your bibles.'”

Simple advice, perhaps. But also the best thing we can do in a world where diversity and “tolerance” are valued far more than the sacrifice of an obscure Nazarene carpenter.

Hear o Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one.

You can think what you want about diversity, and Christianity, and political correctness, but you will still be just as lost if you fall for that “all is one” nonsense.

All are not one.

You can serve God or not.

If not, you’d best be prepared to face the consequences.

As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.

Due Diligence

I read an article from a few days ago on a conservative website this morning, and it kind of stirred me up a little. The article was regarding a 2 hr muslim Jumah prayer service to be held at the 2012 Democratic National Convention.

That didn’t really seem fair, because that article (and a few others I read) also mentioned a Catholic Cardinal had volunteered to give a “Christian” prayer and been denied.

This may have been true 4 days ago, but upon further research this morning, I found that Donald Miller (he wrote Blue Like Jazz) was giving the benediction, and that same Cardinal whose offer of prayer had originally either been ignored or denied (depending on what you read), was now giving the closing prayer.

While not the same as a 2 hr prayer service, it is also not the complete absence of Christian prayer it initially seemed. It is perhaps also of note that the Muslim event is technically near the event (in a park), while the benediction and closing prayer are in the actual convention.

But since I’m mentioning things worthy of note, it’s also certainly possible the offer from the Cardinal was accepted only after a shitstorm of controversy was generated by what initially seemed like more liberal pandering to Muslim complaints of anti-Islam bias.

Does anti-Islam bias exist? Of course it does. Islamic and liberal activists in the media and private sector will not let you forget it.

What is seldom heard is that anti-Christian bias also exists. It exists every bit as much and is just as bad as bias against the Islamic religion.

Here’s my point. I nearly flew off the handle when I read about 2 hrs of Muslim prayer at the DNC with no Christian counterpoint. The apparent unfairness of it all was maddening.

When I looked deeper, I found out there was a lot more to it than what things originally seemed to be.

There’s much danger in blind acceptance of anything you read, especially in today’s political climate. All I’m saying is before you rush to judgment, make sure you’ve done your due diligence.

And watch out for the plank in your eye.

By the way, I deliberately did not insert links to what I read today.

Looking it up is part of your due diligence

Prone to Wander

Jon Acuff had a great post yesterday on his blog about why people think Christians are fake. Check it out and then come back.

Ok, good. You’re back.

In his piece, Acuff talks about a worship leader changing the words to “Come Thou Fount” when he performs it. I agree with Acuff’s point in the post. The words this leader changes are in my opinion a beautiful description of a sinner that knows where they’ll be given their natural proclivities, and offers what matters most to the God he loves to hopefully mitigate his chance of wandering.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it
Prone to leave the God I love
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for thy courts above

Like Mr Acuff, I would love to be able to say that when I became a Christian, I stopped making mistakes. It would be great if I could say that with the advent of Christ in my life came the departure of sin, but that isn’t what happened at all.

Rather, I still mess up. All the time. I get angry, or sometimes lustful. Or maybe I curse, or use the Lord’s name in a way it was never intended. Sometimes I am neither loving nor helpful to the least of these.

And I doubt, and wander.

But I love God, and I acknowledge that only through he can my heart be sealed from it’s natural proclivities.

So when people do things like change lyrics or words because they feel it indicates a more positive message or maybe because they feel they don’t wander anymore, it conveys the message that with God comes an absence of struggle with the things of earth.

That’s not true, and people need to hear that. So that when they still want to do dumb stuff after beginning a relationship with Christ they don’t just think they’re doing something wrong and walk away from the only thing that can deliver them.

I think we need to be real with our worship and our testimony. Heck, sometimes when you’re a leader, the song is your testimony.

Pretty pictures of a life without struggle don’t show Jesus to people. If I wanted that I’d move to Texas and hang out with Joel Osteen.

We need to show people there is hope for deliverance. We do that with honesty about our lives. We share in the struggle. We let people who don’t know Jesus (and also people who do) know they aren’t alone in their tendency to wander. All have sinned and fallen short.

I know I have.

Come thou fount of every blessing
Tune my heart to sing thy grace

Todd Akin, and Good From Bad

You can’t turn on your television or look at most websites these days without hearing about Rep Todd Akin’s dumbass 17th century remarks about women conceiving from rape. Clearly, Mr Akin doesn’t possess any depth of knowledge about basic human biology.

I get that. I just think most people would belay their tongues while being interviewed, unlike the unfortunate Mr Akin.

Idiot. I’m a conservative, but that type of stupidity doesn’t deserve anyone’s vote.

I read an interesting article on CNN this morning (here) by a Chicago lawyer named Shauna Prewitt, who was raped while in college and conceived a child.

The article goes into some depth about how rapists who “father” children with their victims are legally able to sue for visitation rights in many states. To me, this is a wrong of such staggering profundity if defies both description and comprehension.

I have no idea whether or not Todd Akin will continue in his quest for Senatorial glory. I believe he’s likely not the only person with such a ridiculous opinion, and hopefully his remarks were little more than a few misspoken words.

In any case, good can come of this whole debacle. We can start talking about both rape and the consequences resulting from it, and people can “unlearn” so much of the nonsense they’ve come to believe.

Rape is a terrible crime, and the rape itself is just the beginning of what the victim will have to face. There’s also embarrassing and even humiliating legal battles. Judgment from people based on stupid and errant thinking regarding who is to blame. And the always enjoyable PTSD- post traumatic stress disorder.

That is a real and terrible disorder. During my tenure at my old church in San Diego, I was part of a prayer ministry that dealt with a great many people with sexual brokenness issues, and quite a few that had been raped. PTSD affects lives in so many ways and has so many far reaching consequences.

As a society, we need to talk about that kind of thing. We can go miles toward dispelling falsehoods and errant beliefs about rape just by creating dialogue.

It’s somewhere to start. Perhaps some good can come of Akin’s remarks after all.

Oatmeal, Enemies, and Morning Catharsis

The bible clearly has a lot of instruction about how we’re supposed to treat people, and lead our lives in such a way we can represent Christ to those who don’t know him and have not heard the good news.

My problem is that I want those people to be nice. That often isn’t the case. There’s a great many red letters in my Life Application Study Bible detailing what we can expect to face from people when we share Christ with them.

Persecution, hatred, even death.

I don’t want to be persecuted. I want to be welcomed. I want to talk about God with people who already know how awesome He is. I don’t want to defend my faith, and I don’t want to turn any cheeks.

I want to hit people back. I want to go “Chuck Norris” on my enemies.

Scripture tells me I can’t. This morning I read Proverbs 25: 21-22 while I was eating my oatmeal, and I didn’t like it.

If your enemy is hungry, give him food to eat; if he is thirsty, give him water to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals in his head, and the Lord will reward you.

The first thing I thought about was why the heck should I do that for my enemy? And while I might not have any personal enemies, certainly it could be argued that as Christians there are a great many people who hate us for believing in something besides ourselves and trying to lead our lives so they demonstrate that.

Certainly today’s social and political climate in the United States is a vivid demonstration of how a great many people feel about Christians and what they stand for, or perhaps “stand against” would be more apt.

That’s neither here nor there.

To my mind, what it’s about is a human response to an affront vs a Godly response.

We are not God. We are people, and our human nature is to respond like to like. So if someone cuts me off (or flips me off) in traffic, I want to make sure I “get them back” in some way, even if that involves a raised finger of my own or a few shouted words.

If someone insults me, my family, or my faith, I want to respond in kind. I want to out-protest their protest. I want to make them look like idiots because they tried to make me look like one.

Jesus tells me I can’t do that. His Godly nature demonstrates how lacking in grace my human nature is.

It is solely through his presence–his inhabitation–that I can show any grace at all.

Because I have been shown grace, I can be graceful.

Because I have been shown mercy, I can be merciful.

Because I have been shown love, I can be loving.

The trick is, it’s more important I show these things to enemies than friends. My family and friends already know they are loved.

Enemies being enemies, they expect a certain response to their actions. Unfortunately, we often give them what they’ve come to expect from us. It’s in our nature.

With God’s nature, we suddenly have the ability to respond how they do not expect.

That changes everything. In my opinion, it is difficult to respond to love with hate.

Unfortunately, it’s also hard to respond to hate with love.

Yet as we progress through a season of changing political and religious tolerances, it seems clear that unless we change something, entropy isn’t just going to be a concept we learn about in high school.

We’re going to destroy ourselves.

It’s not too late to seek harmony instead of entropy.

It’s not too late to respond to hate and persecution with love.

It’s not too late too late to look at the person in the mirror and ask them if they truly know God and care about His will for their life.

It’s not too late to manifest that will for our lives in our lives.

So the next time you’re confronted with hate, or prejudice, or persecution, try and respond with love.

They won’t expect it, and you’ll heap burning coals on their head.

Category: Life

John vs The Spic N Span

My Miracle

Hypocrisy, the RNC, and the Empty Chair

Of Conviction, Inspiration, and Change

The Anthem

Unity in Diversity?

Due Diligence

Prone to Wander

Todd Akin, and Good From Bad

Oatmeal, Enemies, and Morning Catharsis