I'm glad I'm not God

It's late and I can't sleep.

Too many things going through my mind.  One thought in particular stands out and that is this:  I'm glad I'm not God. 

I think many people would love to play the role of God, even if just for a week, a day, an hour?  Maybe.  But not me.  No, I don't want the heartbreak.

Imagine the pain you would have to feel if you were God.  Millions and millions of sons and daughters, each and every day, living lives that run counter to your wishes for them.  Thinking thoughts that are gray and misguided.  Doing things that bring you pain.  Saying words that don't reflect the love and hope and compassion and kindness that you wish for them to speak.  Perverting your rules and guidelines to make them fit into their idea of a healthy life. 

I think if I was God, I would end up doing a lot of crying.  Ceaselessly.  Nothing can hurt worse than watching your children fall.  Seeing them get hurt.  Observing the decisions they make each and every day and how those decisions bring them further from you rather than closer.  Knowing what's best for them; pleading with them to see, only to feel the chasm between you and them expand and deepen.  Knowing that if you chastise them you run the risk of pushing them further from you, yet allowing immoral and irresponsible behavior to continue will send them down that same path.  Fighting to keep them close only to have them push you away with more conviction.  Wanting them to need you yet seeing how independent from you they have become.  Wanting to give them their freedom yet watching with the utmost heartache as they pervert that gift into a life of sin and suffering and senseless wandering.  Calling to them but never being able to get them to listen.  Reaching for them and only grasping air.  Losing them and never really knowing if they will come back. 

God's job would be a bit too much like having your heart surgically removed from your chest.  You would have to be numb to everything.  You would need to not care or at least be completely indifferent and separated from the very things you create.  To survive as God, I think, would require you to be more like an insect or a sloth.  Nearly unaware.  Simply a being without feeling.  Instinctual rather than intellectual.  Apathetic as opposed to affectionate.  God would continue to be all-knowing but not all-caring.  All-powerful but not all-forgiving.  Concerned about process rather than people.  Singular rather than plural and never needing  reciprocity. 

Would it be simpler if  God was just a  sanitized manufacturer of life rather than a personal, loving deity?  I think it would be.  I might be more apt to sign up for that job.  There'd be a lot less pain; or at least pain that people would try to make sense of.   God's job would be so much easier and more straight-forward.  There would be much less drama.  Less confusion.  Less anger.  Less tears.  Less of everything.  Managing life would be more stream-lined and efficient.  Expectations would be clearer.  There would be little room for error and doubt, which would make life in general a lot less crazy and messed up.  I could go for that.

Alas, though, naysayers would argue that with less drama comes less laughter.

Less confusion would come less accomplishments.

Less anger would create less forgiveness.

Less tears would come less gratitude.

Less error and doubt would come less spirit of invention, less creativity, less ingenuity.  

Efficiency would lead to complacency.  Complacency would lead to boredom.  With boredom would come less responsibility.  Less vitality for life.  Less joy.

Clarity would lead certainly to a sense of independence and self-reliance.  Self-reliance would lead to a life without God.

Life without God would lead to chaos.

That would be the argument.  And I think the naysayers would have a point.

I'm not interested in being God.  There's just a bit too much involved with that sort of management.  Too much pain.  Too much to think about.  Too much to manage.   It's hard enough being a parent of four kids.  And maybe, just maybe, that's what this was truly all about.

Hint, Hint, Nudge, Nudge, Wink, Wink

I use to say those words to the kids in my classroom whenever I wanted to lead them to a certain answer or a certain line of thinking.  It was a way to get them to move in a direction that I knew would lead to some understanding or enlightenment, if you will.  Not that what I did in a classroom paralleled the work of Socrates or Plato or Shakespeare, but as teachers we try to impart some wisdom and some practical life lessons in between and underneath the curriculum (and the testing). But it was often very difficult for kids to "get there".  They wanted to take the easy way, the quick way, the painfree way.  THEIR way.  In fact, more times than not, my words of wisdom seemed to fall pointlessly by the wayside. 

I have found that God has borrowed my thinking...my methodology, if you will, in getting me to see how I should be living my life.  He's tweaked my "hints, and nudges, and winks" so that He can better direct me to that right, narrow path.    

He has claimed this "Hint, Hint..." thing as His own!  

God is sly.  He is one slick customer, and I am A-O-K with that!  I think the deity is ingenious!  But, I know that like the kids in my classroom, I can be a very stubborn, very deaf, very obtuse person when it comes to taking God's hints.   Thank the Lord, oh my Lord, that He is patient, kind, and above all understanding!  Let me tell you what happened to me about two weeks ago and how God "set me straight."   You may or may not agree with me on this one, and wither way I'm fine with, but I would like some honest dialogue, please...

So, a couple weeks ago I was faced with a very, very precarious situation.  A decision, if you will, but not a decision in the truest sense of the word.  I wasn't given the standard two choices; but, in my mind I created options that shouldn't have been there in the first place.  Without going into detail, because that's getting just a bit too personal, suffice it to say, I put myself in a situation that offered two distinct paths.  A right one.  And a wrong one.  A tough one.  And an easy one.  A God one.  And a me one.

I can be a very selfish, very self-centered person.  I like the things that benefit me--especially the ones that benefit me immediately.  I'm a think-last kinda guy.  Action: good.  Thought: bad.  It's taken me decades to first realize this and second, understand it and accept it. And because of that, I've painted myself into a lot of bad, hard-to-get-out-of corners.  Corners with sharp edges that haven't just negatively impacted me, but have taken there toll on the people in my life I love the most.

This situation I was in (self-made, by the way), had two possible choices:

Act or think.

My previous self was crying out to act.  Was screaming at the top of its lungs to charge forward with both hands on my impulses and just "go for it".  Test the water then dive in.  Run recklessly into a situation that I knew, knew, knew was wrong. 

My new self was begging for me to stop and think.  To find peace and comfort in prayer.  To wait.  To pray.  To ask God for help.  It grabbed both my hands, tore them free from my impulsivity, and placed them folded in front of me in supplication.

But it wasn't easy.  In fact, it was going to be near-impossible until God stepped in and indeed, hint, hinted...nudge, nudged...wink, winked.   Here's what the sly old dog did...

At my near breaking point; that place when I was so very close to caving into this terrible terrible temptation, the transmission went out on my car.  Now, He didn't leave me stranded.  in fact, the wily old veteran of awesomeness left me stranded at.....church. 

So now i'm obviously distracted.  I have a $2000.00 car bill.  That temptation?  Fairly far from my mind.

But it wasn't to be defeated so easily.  In fact, a large part of me got really, extremely upset with God.  "Huh!  I pray for You to lead me away from this temptation and You nearly blow up my car?!?!?  What kind of help is that?!?"

So that selfish, self-centered part of me said, "OK, God...you wanna play by those rules?  I'll show you!" And I put myself back into the old temptation playing field.  I wanted to show God who was really in charge! 

And you know what His response was?  "Hint, hint, nudge, nudge, wink, wink"...here's a sinus infection. 

I haven't had a sinus infection in like 8 years!  But lo and behold, here one was!  Coughing.  Green snot.  Sore throat.  Exhaustion.  Nothing life threatening.  Just enough to distract me. 

Some will caution me and say God didn't cause the transmission in my car to go out.  God didn't give me a sinus infection.  Are you sure?  How does any of us really know what God does and doesn't do?  He does all things in love.  He directs.  He disciplines.  He protects.  I believe whole-heartedly that God was giving me hints.  He was pushing me away from myself. 

And it worked.  It did.  As the days went by, that temptation became less like a temptation and more like an opportunity to prove to God that with His help and with His guidance, I can defeat sin one sin at a time.  In days, I was thanking God rather than cursing Him or testing His patience.  I was listening to Him.  I finally got His hints.  I finally took His advice.  I took the right way.  The tough way.  His way.  And it became very easy to do. 

And can I tell you how good it feels?   Freeing.  Empowering!   Granted, I still don't have my car back and am stuck driving my mother's 1988Cadillac Fleetwood (which my middle school daughter particular likes being seen in....).  But tomorrow is suppose to be the pick up day for my car.  And when I pay that $2K bill for the transmission, believe me, I'm gonna be wondering why on earth ignoring God was so expensive!!!  But then again, it's only money.  It could've been worse.  Would've been worse.  Would've been alot more expensive had I listened to my selfish self.  Easy at first, but so, so difficult later.  More than a broken car and a cold.

With God, we always win in the end.  The money I paid in medicine and tissues and mechanics is nothing compared to broken families, broken hearts, broken trust.  Sin breaks everything it touches.  I wish I would've listened to God a lot earlier in life.  As I reflect back on my life, yes there's regret...but much of it comes from the knowledge that I made choices that made me happy, and me alone.  Decisions that were selfish and self-centered.  Decisions that broke people.  And I regret them not because of lost opportunities or chances, but because I can remember all the ways God gave me hints and nudges and winks and I chose to ignore them, and because of that, many people got hurt because of me.

1 Corinthians 10:13 says: "No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it."

 I am living proof that this scripture is 100% Truth.  Enjoy the SOTD by Nine Lashes, who, incidentally, along with Seventh Day Slumber, is coming to our Community Day on Sept. 27 for a free show!

 

Lifetime Guarantees

"We all breath and we all bleed.  We get lost in between."  These are the opening lines to "Keep Me Breathing" by Ashes Remain. 

Those lines resonate within me.  For some reason.  We are born.  We die.  And in between we walk through life lost...searching for something...anything...to give us meaning.  At least I have.  My wife will admit that I have a very restive nature.  I'm not the most content person.  Not a fan of routine; especially a routine that doesn't really allow me to think, to create, to dwell on life around me.  I use to think I could thrive in a fast-pace, high-octane life.  Like those ones you see on TV and in movies.  The ones where these twenty- and thirty-somethings move through the congestion of their careers and families at such a break-neck pace yet seem so "collected"; so together.  I was, for a time, mind you, a bit envious about that life style. 
But now that my wife and I have four kids all involved in some sport or activity after school, two full time jobs (although many of my "friends" facetiously ask if what I do truly constitutes a real job!), and other volunteer activities, I've wholeheartedly decided that the "in between" fast-paced stuff some times really takes a toll on a person's emotional and physical stamina.  I couldn't do it all year round and stay sane.  I admit that.  I'm cool with it. 

I was thinking about the movie "Tommy Boy" the other day.  One of my all-time favorites.  May Chris Farley rest in peace, the man was a comedic genius!  He made the prospect of "living in a van down by the river" an attractive alternative...but there's a scene in the movie where a prospective customer wants to know why Tommy's car parts don't come with the word "guaranteed" on the box.  Watch the edited version here...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MGTq0QHWCQ

I have always loved that part.  So unbelievably truthful.  It seems there are guarantees everywhere.  We seem to guarantee everything.  Joe Namath probably made the most famous of guarantees when he said his Jets would beat the highly favored Colts in Super Bowl III.  He and his Jets held true to that guarantee, but how many of those things really are legit?  And the Lifetime Guarantees are my favorite.  Lifetime Guarantees can be found on appliances.  On sporting goods.  On furniture.  On car parts.  On kids' toys.  Even on wool socks!  Yep, my son has a pair of wool socks that come with a lifetime guarantee!  No lie.  But whose life are we holding it against?  Mine?  My son's?  Billy Parker's, the skinny dude running the assembly line down at the factory?  The company CEO?  Why do we throw "lifetime guarantee" around like we need to say it in order to survive?  Why is it so adulterated?  Shouldn't we really just get rid of the phrase and be done with giving people false high expectations that things will work for a lifetime or they will get a replacement or their money back (as long as they have the original receipt)?  Can we move on?

There are three guarantees in life to my knowledge.  Three. 

You are born.

You will die.

In between your birth and death, you will have one vitally important choice.  To accept Christ as your personal savior or to deny Him.

That's it.  Three.  That "lostness" in between you being separated from your mother's placenta and you being placed in the ground or in an urn is a battleground.  It is a fight for your soul.  It is a war for your next life.  The replacement you get when this "lifetime guarantee" expires.  You want a brand new life when this one breaks, snaps in two, falls apart, or stops working properly?  Accept Christ.  Admit you are not God.  That you need Him.  That you need His Son in your life.  Right now.  Admit you cannot manage life on your own.  It's impossible to strive to be good without having a definitive moral compass.  That compass is God.  His Son is your guide.  Times will suck.  Times will be hard.  Hectic.  Terrible.  You will suffer.  You will get lost.  You will feel alone.  You will feel that there is a better life AWAY from God than WITH Him.  You will be tempted.  You'll fail.  You will sin, sin, sin because you are human.  However...WITH God, you are saved from all of these terrible spaces in between birth and death.  Because He never judges you.  He never hates you.  He never rejects you.  He never goes back on a promise.  He is love.  A love that never fails.  That's a guarantee.

Or you can reject God.  Deny His existence.  Pretend you don't need Him.  Hang with friends who care even less.  Live a life of sin without remorse.  Have no true North.  Feel lost but have no hope.  Fail without knowing that someone loves you even in that most desperate state. Covet, lust, curse, lie, steal without hope for forgiveness.  Knowing these things are wrong yet not understanding why each sin comes with a specific price tag of guilt with it.  But not understanding why you feel that guilt.  Not accepting that the reason is that there is a God who is trying to tug at your heart strings regardless of your resistance. You can look in the mirror and wonder what will happen to you when you die.  When your lifetime guarantee is over.  When you are too broken to breath.  Too weary to figure out what love is.  Too sick to heal.  Too far gone to beg for forgiveness.

Those are your three guarantees.

Life.

Death.

Decision. 

SOTD:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mPA942OQ4nI

Tank Top Faith

If you have had the unfortunate experience of seeing me with a tank top on rather than a regular t-shirt, you've probably noticed the immense amount of body hair radiating from all corners, crevices, and curves from the waist up.  It's not a pretty sight.  "Friends" and family have asked curiously if I was shooting for a Sasquatch-esque appearance.  They've asked in a pseudo-concerned manner if my body was being attacked by flesh-eating ground squirrels.  I've heard it all.  And it's ok.  I'm fine with my BHO--body hair output.  Except the hair coming from my ears.  That's bothersome, but that's a story for another BLOG. 

I bring up body hair and tank tops, because this past Saturday myself and 8 others from Gravel Hill UMC returned from a short-term missions trip in Staten Island.  We were there helping with Hurricane Sandy clean-up.  Yes, that storm that hit the east coast 17 months ago.  Do you know that on Staten Island alone there are still scores of homes to be rebuilt, families without running water or electric, and people without a place to live or food to eat?  It's amazing the devastation that that storm caused; but more amazing is the fact that still after nearly two years there's so much work yet to be done.  One of the ladies that was with us on the trip reminded me that New Orleans is still not close to full-recovery from Katrina!  Terrible.

So why the body hair? Why the tank top?  Well, it dawned on me the other day  as I reflected on my experience on Staten Island that I still have a ways to go in my faith walk.  I was moved by the unselfish giving from the people in my group...their time off work, their money they gave up to pay for the trip and to pay for fuel to and from the island, their talents and gifts which were used over the three day period of the trip to finish off basements, siding, kitchens, bathrooms, etc...I was there shoulder-to-shoulder with these people doing what my limited skills allowed me to do; but what struck me the greatest was, in retrospect, how little I share my faith with people.  Yes I worked, but I'm not sure I shared anything inspirational with anybody.  Some may say that the work itself and the time I gave is enough...proof that I'm a faithful person.  But I'm not sold on that. 

You see, there were many people who I interacted with or who I heard talking who, to me, wore their faith on their sleeves.  Long sleeves.  They are confident in their walk with the Lord.  They know where God wants them to be and what He wants them to do.  They speak courageously about their faith and can quote verses from the Bible that pertain to any and all situations.  They trust God.  And through their words and actions, they live into a joy-filled life that only comes when there is an unspoken trust in God's plan in their lives. 

Me?  I don't wear my faith on my sleeve.  I'm the tank top guy.  Shirts without sleeves.  I don't walk boldly in my faith.  I question almost everything.  I'm happy but not joy-filled.  Content but not totally trusting in God's plan for me...or if He even has one laid out.  Is that bad?  I don't know.  I just don't know. 

I know I'm saved.  I'm saved because I believe in Jesus.  I believe He gave Himself up to redeem my sins.  I know He forgives me.  I know He loves me.  But I constantly get the sense that I have so much more room to grow.  Like I'm on the path, but just starting out.  I have a map but can't quite picture the destination.  Like wearing half a shirt.  A tank top.  The key parts are covered but I'm still missing the sleeves.  And in the summer, that tank top is very comfortable.  I can air out and not feel the sweaty restrictions of sleeves and armpit vents.  Like life, when the weather is good, my  convictions and faith are unquestionable.  But when the weather turns and it gets rainy, cold, or snowy, that tank top really stinks.  Yes my chest and back might be covered, but boy do my arms get exposed to the elements quickly.  And so it is with my faith.  That tank top faith.  It wavers during those dark, cold, rainy times.  It has no teeth.  No protection.  Not a fan of the tank top in the winter.  Not a fan of tank top faith. 

I like to cut my old t-shirts and make them tank tops.  They're comfortable to work out in and to do yard work in.  But I can't wear them all the time.  Don't wear them to work.  Don't wear them to my kids' events.  Try not to wear them on the rare date-nights Erin and I have.  I don't wear them to family gatherings, to church, or to any doctor appointments either.  There's a time and place for them.   But faith?   My faith can't be something that I put on and take off depending on the weather, the circumstance, or my mood.  Faith and comfort don't go hand in hand.  Maybe sometimes, but not often.  In fact, faith is at its best when things are uncomfortable.  That's when it protects.  That's when it warms.  That's when it harbors my heart and mind from the vicious elements in this world.  I need to work on wearing shirts with sleeves.  I need something to pin my faith on.  I need to be more outspoken with how I feel about God and what His plans are in and with my life.  That doesn't mean I'm going to stop wearing tank tops though.  Sorry.  But it does mean that I need to work on adjusting my spiritual wardrobe a bit.  With time, with experience, and simply by surrounding myself with people who love the Lord and can speak freely about the joy He brings them, I trust I can get some pretty neat long-sleeve shirts....

SOTD:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r9WXUlERHKc&feature=kp