Happy Breath-day To You

Chances are, if you are reading this, when you woke up this morning you were breathing.  If you are anything like me, you breathe a lot! I am an excellent breather.  I breathe all the time. When I am walking, I am breathing. I can breath while I drive down the road, I can breathe while eating or reading or watching TV. I’ve been simultaneously breathing the entire time I wrote down these words.  In fact, I am so good at breathing that I breathe in my sleep. I have done it forever, and sometime - a long time ago - it just became natural for me.  I don’t even have to think about it, it just happens.  I move, I sit, I sleep, I swim – I breathe!

Okay, a little confession. I realize that we all do these things.  That’s the way God designed us.  In his wisdom, he knew that we would need to breathe and we shouldn’t have to think about it. It would be best for us if it was just automatic – and it is.  There are lots of things in our lives that are like that.  Our hearts keep beating without our thinking about it. We don’t have to tell our cells to extract nutrients from within our blood.

 And speaking of that, what about metabolizing food? Now there’s a crazy thing we never really think about.  Sure, some of us are perhaps too obsessed with counting calories or fretting over nutrition, but I don’t know of anyone who stops in the middle of a meal or afterward to concentrate on which proteins to send to where from their cheeseburger, or what to do with that canole you just sent down the gullet to be digested and made into parts of you! 

In a sense, our digestion can be a magical thing. Sure we have all heard the phrase, “You are what you eat.” but have you ever stopped to think how strange that is? You take a three foot long toasty brown baguette – the kind that is crunchy hard on the outside and soft in the middle – if you get hit in the head with that or if someone jabs you in the stomach with one, it’s gonna hurt.  However, you take that same French-baked baseball bat , cut in half and slather it with butter, or better yet, Nutella, and it is delightful.  You chew it up and swallow it and it becomes the building blocks of your manly (or womanly) physique!  That’s crazy!  But it’s all this way because that’s how God designed us!

Our bodies are not the only thing that is automatic.  The entire planet works on a schedule which we do not have to program or think about.  I don’t think I have ever gone to sleep praying, “Lord, please keep us in orbit.  While I sleep, please don’t forget to keep the world spinning so that we can have the illusion of the sun coming up in the morning.  Please don’t let us spin off into the cold of deep space or be sucked into the intense heat of the sun so that we spontaneously burst into flames!.”  I’ve never worried about whether or not gravity will remain constant.  The possibility of it increasing until I cannot walk or I get crushed under my own weight has never been a real concern. At the same time I have never worried that one day I might walk out of my house and suddenly just float off into space because gravity just let go.  In a very real, tangible sort of way, we owe a lot more to God than we ever know.

The psalmist put it simply: “This is the day the Lord has made.  I will rejoice and be glad in it.” When I think about it this way, I am amazed at all the things which make life possible - things I enjoy every day and never really even think about .  All these things are in place because the Lord made them to be.  In that case this simple verse form Psalm 118 means more than I used to think it did.  The important thing is not that this day or that day is more important than any other..  It’s that every day I have here is a day that I wake up breathing, walking, eating and enjoying because God created me and everything I experience with every part of my being.  The profound truth is that most of what life depends on works so well; by His design, that I fully benefit from it without ever having to adjust or control it.  This is the day THAT THE LORD HAS MADE!   

Any day I am breathing is a good day!

Happy breath day to me – and to you.

Sit down Santa.

I walked into the hardware store the other day and got mad at Santa.  It was barely two days  after Halloween. There was still a disgusting, ghoulish figure standing at the front of the store with a discount price tag hanging around his neck.  The tag just hung there, its bright orange color clashing with his hideous, reddish eyes.  He stood there life-sized and lifeless - ugly and motionless because he was unplugged -  hoping for a closet he could call home until next Halloween.  At the same time, toward the back of the store, but still in ear-shot, was a 6 foot tall plastic Santa belching out "Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas!"  That stupid Santa made me mad.

It was then that I realized  that I have been having some very sentimantal feelings lately.  Nothing really special - nothing has specifically brought them on, except that I am acutely aware of the fact that two of the most important people in my life no longer live in my house.  With two of my three kids off to college, I am a bit more reflective than perhaps I had time to be before.  It's not just that I miss having my boys around - although I do, believe me some days I really do - for the first time in my married life, I am outnumbered by women in my household...but that is another story...!

Recently I have found myself being elated at unexpected times.  These fits of reflection sneak up and sweep over me during mundane moments of the day.  Here is an example; I got all excited a few days before Halloween at the thought of kids in costume coning to gather candy from their neighbors. Without warning this thought prompted me to dance a little jig in the hall when no one was looking  This is even more strange since we rarely have anyone come to our door on Halloween.  There are no street lights or sidewalks on our street, so the trick or treat traffic seems to barely exist..  This year we had exactly 7 trick-or-treaters and five of them were teens in no costume whatsoever. Still, just the thought of this frivolous little tradition sent me headlong into an involuntary moment of glee.

I have the same thing happening repeatedly as I look toward Thanksgiving and Christmas.  Sometimes I just jump in the car or sit down to lunch or walk across my office and catch the unmistakeable warmth of a genuine smile well up from within me. It is a attached to a kid-like excitement over what is coming through the holidays.  It's not the Turkey, or the Christmas presents or even the great days of football ahead.  I don't really know what it is - but I like it.

When I really put my mind to it, I believe it is the overflow of the depth of blessing I have felt from these holiday traditions and the family and memories that have made them so good my entire life.  It is an emotion that can only be best described as gratitude. I get unexpectedly giddy when the thought of the holidays sneaks up from deep within me. 

For the first eighteen years of my life, I think the best of these days centered around Thanksgiving. It was THE time when my extended family would come together. It meant days on end, filled with cooking and baking and family packing into small spaces.  It meant long nights of card games and laughter. It came with pie and cookies and football games and more general feelings of security, comfort and love than I remember finding at any other time of the year.  These are the things that first taught me to be thankful.  They were deep and more profound than I could ever have known.   They sustain me to this day, making me grateful and giddy at the thought of these holidays returning. 

I think that is why that plastic Santa made me angry.  It 's not that he is really evil.  It is more that his early arrival - the day after Halloween, flushed across me in a way that said, "Thanksgiving just doesn't matter." It's not even Turkey Day that I am thinking of. It is the deep, important sentiment of giving thanks.  When Santa shows up the day after Halloween to sell glitzy lights and electronic reindeer, I get the sense that there is nothing to pause and be grateful for except shallow, shiny stuff.

I'd like to pass a law that says Santa cannot show his face until November 30th,  but I know this kind of law would never work. Retailers are in the business of making money and Christmas is big business. I guess in some way that doesn't really hack me either - I just wish that Santa would sit down and be quiet until after Thanksgiving.  At least this way  we could have the chance to reflect on how grateful we should be before we are inundated with commercial messages, geared to tell us how much we don't have.  That would be nice. 

So, yeah, I think I am serious.  Really Santa, please just sit down and shut up.  
We'll see you in December. And who knows, maybe then we can even have a little talk about the real meaning of sentimental things like love, peace and gratefulness...if you ever stop ho-ho-ing long enough to listen..

The Power of Impact

I saw history last weekend. It was a rare moment of insight which comes, at least for me, only when it is completely unexpected.  Standing in a room of about 100 middle school kids and adults it hit me in a flash.  They had all come to an event I have helped lead for the past 18 years. I saw what kind of difference can be made over a long obedience in a simple event designed to help 6th - 8th graders think about God. 

As I kicked off the Impact Retreat, I looked around to see Cassie, a former youth group member - one of those kids I love like a daughter.  She came to Impact as a camper and then as a high school leader.  Now she is back as a member of Won By One from Pepperdine.  She is  as a rock star in the eyes of these kids and helped lead them into worship. 

I saw Jordan who came to Impact as a 6th grader.  Years later he was my youth intern.  Now he is a peer in ministry and close friend.  He has been a powerful positive influence on my youth group as well as his.  This past summer he became a mentor to my own son, as he became Jordan's intern. 

I then looked down to see the sweet faces of new sixth graders whom I had never met before mixed in with those of  my own group who I barely knew two years ago.  These kids just make me smile whenever I see them.  They are a joy and drive me to stay in ministry  for the sake of their friendship and spiritual potential. 

I could see in a flash how quickly the years of Impact have passed.  It is a story which flashes by in my mind in an instant.  Yet, in it's telling it seems that countless lives are touched and shaped by the pweor of faith and the spirit of God.  I got the clear sense that I could never give my life to a better effort than this.

It snowed at Impact this year.  It really snowed!  That is something which never happened before, save a minor skiff about eight years ago, but this was different.  This was real snow that stuck and made everything white.  The kids laughed and threw snowballs and made a snowman and ate snow until it made some of them sick.  It was a palliate on which God painted many lasting memories, in ways He had never done before.  At the same time, it was just another small chapter in the Impact story He has been writing for the past eighteen years.

As I said, I saw history last weekend...and it was good.

Super huge, amazing, immaculate love

Some of those old hymns should never be lost or forgotten.  Their marriage of music and lyrics tell the message of faith and hope in ways that simple words could never tell.  One such hymn is below:

The Love Of God
Music: Fred­er­ick Leh­man; ar­ranged by his daugh­ter,Claudia L. Mays

The love of God is greater far
Than tongue or pen can ever tell;
It goes beyond the highest star,
And reaches to the lowest hell;
The guilty pair, bowed down with care,
God gave His Son to win;
His erring child He reconciled,
And pardoned from his sin.

Refrain

O love of God, how rich and pure!
How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure
The saints’ and angels’ song.

When years of time shall pass away,
And earthly thrones and kingdoms fall,
When men, who here refuse to pray,
On rocks and hills and mountains call,
God’s love so sure, shall still endure,
All measureless and strong;
Redeeming grace to Adam’s race—
The saints’ and angels’ song.

Refrain

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above,
Would drain the ocean dry.
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.

Refrain

Songs such as these sustain me and keep me going.  They can put me back on track with God just as well as do the words of scripture at times.  God is so gracious and busy working in and with the lives of broken people  like me and the hymn writers that He is perfectly willing to use the words of an old hymn writer to encourage the likes of a guy like me to walk more faithfully through the day.  We should all be amazed at a God who loves like that!

To read a brief dedscription of how this hymn came to be written chek out:

http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/l/o/loveofgo.htm

Remember...

Today is the birthday of one of my oldest friends...not that he's that old, but that we have been friends longer than anyone else I have known.  Happy birthday Mars!

We have known each other since before we knew each other.  Marlon Tomera and I literally grew up together on the same street, just three houses apart from 18 months old to 18 years old.  I spent the best days of my first 18 years with him as a best friend.  Since then, we have moved on to other places and really lost touch.

Back in those early days I couldn't fathom ever losing touch with Marlon.  We did almost everything together, including coming to know God and beginning to take him seriously.  There were other things we got ourselves into as young boys, but thankfully those are not held against us! 

Now some - dare I say it - 30 years(!!!) later we are still half way across the country from each other and have bumped profiles on Facebook.  Those great younger days of bike riding, goofing off and duck hunting are some of my best memories.  K-Falls in the '70's was a terrific place to be a kid.

Now as I think about looking back, I am reminded that God's most frequent plea with us all is "Remember."  To ancient Israel he says remember how I brought you up out of Egypt...remember how I promised to make you a great nation and that by you all the nations of the world will be blessed...Jesus picks up this refrain in the New Testament when he says that whenever you gather together, do so in remembrance of me. and I will be with you always, to the end. 

I remember the day that Marlon announced he was ready to give his life to God.  We were 15 or 16, I think, and he simply said, "I want to give control of my life to Him."  We went to the small Arthur Street Church because the baptistery at our church was leaking and couldn't be used.  They gave him a white baptismal suit which was a little too thin and a bit revealing when wet.  I remember thinking that was kinda funny and more than a little awkward, but the whole thing was far too important and amazing to laugh about.  That was the day that Mars came to Christ before my eyes.  Years later, on frequent occasions when I would think of him and wonder where he was or how he was doing, I would pray for him and hope that his commitment stuck.

Way back then he had a thing for a girl named Terry, the little sister of one of my other close friends.  They got married and they are still together. God is good!  Now I hear of his family and can see shades of his faith sprinkled through his profile on FB and am thankful for that day so long ago.  It reminds me to remember that God is faithful.  He has never left me.  He continues to work in my life and the lives of friends like Mars even when we take our own paths apart for years!

Again, Happy birthday Mars!!!  I hope this is a day you will long remember.

Brendin at 20

I remember the day he was born so clearly. If I close my eyes I  can see it   It was a Sunday afternoon. We were in ministry in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, but were certain we were not going to church that night.  All the details are not necessary to share here now.  The truth is, it was a bit traumatic and over the next six weeks, I learned more about life and how precious it really is than perhaps I had learned in the 27 years prior.

Truthfully, I probably didn't learn new lessons, but had life-long lessons brought home and made alive like never before.  I thought of my Dad who had died some 14 years earlier and how he loved babies.  He had a way with little ones, and they loved him.  It saddened me to think that he would never meet or hold Brendin or that Brendin would never know him.  I reflected on how he must have felt at my birth and that of my seven other siblings.  I couldn't wrap my mind around that much responsibility, yet was comforted and bewildered by the joy I felt and how much so many births must have brought to him and Mom.   

I remember wondering how I would challenge my youth group to partner with us in raising Bendin to love the Lord.  We were supposed to take the group bowling after worship that night.  When we didn't show up there was pandemonium with all the teens wanting to know what was happening.  In our youthful "wisdom," we had decided on a home birth, so our friends ran interference, giving us space and keeping the teens away.  Our Moms were both with us. What a blessing to have them there.

In quiet moments over the next few days, I reflected again and again on Psalm 139:
        Fearfully and wonderfully made...
        your eyes saw my unformed body.
       All the days ordained for me
       were written in your book
       before one of them came to be.
Those words had more meaning to me in the days after Brendin's birth than they ever did before.  They continue to amaze me and make me fall deeper in love with the One who created all things.  As Caleb and Alicia were born three and five years later, I revisited those quiet moments and the memories of my first days with Brendin.  Sitting in peaceful reflection, holding the tiny child and marveling at the perfect little fingers, I would sit speechless, every fiber of my being exuding gratefulness and praise to God for such beautiful gifts given to me.

If I continued to tell stories of Brendin, I could write pages and pages of how he has brought joy into my life and made me proud in so many ways.  Life with him has been an amazing journey of faithfulness and discovery.  He inspires me and gives me hope as I see faith shape him and laugh at the sheer joy of who he is.  It's hard to believe that he is no longer a teenager.  I don't feel old enough to have a twenty year old son, but God has taught me a lifetime of lessons through learning to raise and nurture him.

I am so grateful for all three of my amazing children - God's hand touches me through them daily.  I am deeply blessed by life with an amazing,beautiful wife and a trio of children who far surpass the blessedness I deserve.

Happy 20th Brendin.  You are my gift.

Sweetness and Grief

A few years ago, my mother-in-law passed away.  She was a wonderful prayer warrior and lover of life.  Shortly after she passed, a friend came to visit, bringing us a live plant and a large plate of brownies.  She explained that she was carrying on an old tradition.  The sweets were meant to ease the bitterness of loss. The plant was a reminder that life goes on.

I was reminded this week of how this wonderful traditon touched me when our neighbors had to fly to Florida for the funeral of the man's father.  While they were gone we watched their dogs for them and had a live plant and a plate of goodies waiting for them when they returned.

Reflecting on this tradition, I realize that it is a true picture of the faithfulness and provision of God.  Throughout Scripture we see that God is ever present in the lives of countless men and women.  Even when they fail to acknowledge Him, He is present.  When Adam and Eve fall from grace and try to hide, God meets them in the garden.  Even as their decision brings death into creation, God makes provision for them and brings them life through the birth of sons.  When mankind becomes so tainted by sin that God decides to begin again, He raises up Noah and gives the gift of the rainbow to show how He promises life in the face of death.  On and on it goes.  As sin and the selfish ambitions of men and women wreak havoc throughout history God meets us in the midst of pain and reminds us that we were created for something more, that He offers us a better life. 

Finally, God Himself pays the ultimate price.  He experiences the pain and rejection of sin when He has no sin.  Yet even in this death on the cross He is present, bringing us life.  It is in fact because of this death and through this death that true life, eternal life is even possible for us.  May we all have eyes to see.   May we be moved to live in such a way that this death is not in vain for us individually and each death we grieve will be a reminder that this life is not all there is!