“Thank You.” I’ve spoken these two little words to the LORD many times over the past few months. Being unemployed, after working at a beloved job for many years, has led me to a place of deep dependency on the LORD’s provision.
I consider myself to be a highly logical person so, when I signed up to take Introduction to Logic in college, I thought it would be fun and easy. It was neither. Instead, I found logic to be much more "mathy" than anticipated; and the other people in my class talked too much. Even though I struggled to get through the class, I actually come back to some of the concepts we covered fairly often.
I’ve heard it said before that the English language is one of the hardest ones to learn. With all of its intricacies and contradictions, I have no doubt that if English isn’t your native tongue, it is indeed a struggle to navigate and comprehend. Take homophones for one example: words that sound exactly the same but are spelled differently and do not have the same meanings. Baffling, yes?
You know that feeling of “I blew it”, often manifested as a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach? When you wish the clock could turn backwards and you could have a second chance? It’s the worst. As a parent, I often feel it when I lose my cool and completely flip out on my kids. Or when I let hurtful words roll off my tongue towards people I love.
Last October, I loaded the boys and and one of our daughters into the car and we struck out for a big event happening downtown. Little did I know at the time that I would get stuck in traffic, be forced to park nearly a mile away, and have to walk with our baby in the carrier and our four year old in the stroller through construction and traffic just to see the spectacle.
The closer we got to downtown area the more excited we got.
I’ve been thinking about stories.
Why do we tell stories?
In our small group we learned that songs (which are mostly just stories sung instead of spoken) are more powerful than just delivering sterile information or pure data.
Jesus often used parables—which is just another term for stories—instead of telling his followers outright what he wanted them to know.
Parker Palmer, in his book Hidden Wholeness, says that part of being with someone who is dying is to sit quietly with their soul. Sitting quietly maintains respect for the person as God’s creation and child. Forcing an agenda, one’s own inquisitiveness, or desire for amends is to violate the sacredness of the person in their most sacred time.
I’ve been thinking about the LORD’s faithfulness a lot lately. When things are going smoothly, I don’t typically spend as much time thinking about some of the characteristics of my Holy God. But, when something happens that is not the way I would’ve planned it, I know I need to take some time to remember His past faithfulness during difficult times.
You may remember that we set out to get to know the people on our street and had an eventful potluck last June. To be honest with you, as life got hectic, days were shorter, and neighbors moved off and on our block, we lost momentum. Here recently we decided that we would have another potluck in February to spread some love outside of our walls and take it to the streets. So I wanted to dedicate this blog post to encouraging you – (yes, you) ...
I can’t recall ever decidedly making any specific New Year’s Resolutions in the past. I can recognize, however, that the there is something about the beginning of another calendar year which elicits a need to reflect on the events of the passing year and their effects. And by the same token, this annual occurrence also seems to stir up a need for deep consideration about how we would like the coming year to unfold, and then to resolutely decide the steps necessary to bring those desires to fruition.
I’m a little embarrassed to say that my teenage and young adult formative years intersected with the show South Park. While I wasn’t a frequent watcher by any means, I heard enough quotes and saw enough pieces of this just through being around friends at that age to capture the essence and patterns of this assortment of young, snowsuit-bundled kids in Colorado.
It all started on the Christmas morning of 1985 when a big square box was slid across the floor in my direction. It was neatly wrapped in Christmas paper, solid and heavy. There was no bow on it, just a nametag securely taped on that read, “To Rhinestone, From Unc”. I ripped the paper off the box with the vigor of any 11-year-old boy on Christmas morning and with some work broke through the second seal of tape on the box. Then I pulled the two top flaps open – that’s when the angels began to sing.
Have you ever experienced a moment that changed everything for you? A moment that you can look at - and without a doubt - say your life hasn’t been the same since?
Maybe it was moving to a new city or school. Maybe it was a new friend entering your life or an old friend exiting. Maybe it was a beautiful marriage or the birth of your first child ... or a painful divorce or child turning away from you.
Maybe your “That Changed Everything” moment had nothing to do with the things of Earth - instead it took place due to a spiritual experience with God in which you KNEW that your faith was real.