Words from WW Blog

“For this reason, since the day we heard it, we have not ceased praying for you and asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of God’s will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding…” (Colossians 1:9)

It’s not that I think “I’m all that!”, but recently I had a situation in which I thought I knew what the will of God was. It seemed so clear to me. I even thought that He had put me in a position a couple of years earlier to be His instrument now.

But I was wrong! That’s not how things played out. I wrestle with the confusion and the questions that came flooding into a sleepless night. As a friend of mine told me, there is difficulty moving from the “why” to the “what”, the transition from “why not me” to “what would you have me do now, Lord?” It requires, so to speak, some rearranging of the furniture…moving the couch from what I thought was the best spot to somewhere over to the side.

When disappointment invades the perfect picture that has been painted in your mind, it causes a person to rethink the journey. It seems that the steps have brought the individual to this point and then, suddenly, there is a detour that veers away. It’s like thinking you’re going to Las Vegas and then realizing it’s Las Vegas, New Mexico. The glitz of the city that never sleeps is transformed into the town where you may need to get a fuel fill-up…and go on.

When the answer is “Not me”, it is the natural reaction to question why you thought what didn’t happen was God’s will? Was it my ego that reshaped the scene? Did I think I was hearing what God wanted me to be about, but really, it was what I wanted His will to be? Did I rush ahead and not hear His no?

Most of us have experienced disappointments that are similar in nature. We’ve had the indigestion in the midst of the waiting and the numbness after becoming aware of the unexpected decision. It becomes a point of growth. Our spiritual maturity is often fertilized by the pain of disappointment. We draw close to the Lord as we endure some pruning of our excesses, our unnecessaries, and the subtle hints of entitlement. Like peeling an onion, we shed a few layers of our outer skin in order to get back to what is at our core.

Thirty years in the rearview mirror, I remember a search committee from another church contacting me about their open pastorate. They showed up on a Sunday at the worship service of the congregation I was pastoring. It looked like a good situation. Carol and I drove down to their community and met on a Friday night with the Search Committee. After the interview, one of the committee members made the verbal statement, “Why do we need to look any further? Here is our next pastor right here.” We drove back home thinking that God was going to be moving us.

But the committee had one more person to interview, and they went with him. I remember the disappointment in that situation, but then our congregation had its own period of maturity that developed new life and new intentionality in the ministries with our community. The other church experienced some serious struggles that I would not have been ready to help lead them through. In the midst of the situation, I was dealing with my lack of worth and confusion. It was only after getting some distance from the disappointment that I could focus more on the “What now, Lord?”

I’ll still be wrestling with this situation for a while. There are other factors involved with it that accentuate the pain. But I know, maybe even more, that the One Who created me will guide me and care for me.

“And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone…” (Matthew 14:23)

Each Sunday in our worship service, Pastor Dan (a great preacher and person, by the way) always prays right after he reads the scripture for the morning’s message. It’s a nice prayer, focused and spiritual. I close my eyes and think about Jesus…and then I drift into a twenty-second nap. There are needs and there are wants, and what I need in that short moment is some slumber.

I wish I could apologize to Pastor Dan, but if I did, he would know that I had swayed off of the prayer trail and into the soft pillow my mind has set before me. Seriously, I think sitting quietly for a few moments with no one pulling on me, and with one of the youth speaking with the volume control turned up full blast, brings on the calming of my spirit. It is definitely what I want, but it is also what I need at that moment.

About the time Dan is landing with an amen, I hope he will receive an extended inspiration and delay the conclusion for two or three more seconds. Kind of like a revivalist preacher who would come to our church for a series of weeknight meetings. He drew out the prayer-ending amen so long, my Wrigley’s Chewing Gum had lost its spring. If Pastor Dan can spread it out, my mind is able to come back into the present, and I’m ready to hear the word of God spoken by him for the next twenty minutes or so.

I’m comforted by the biblical revelations of Jesus “needing a moment.” He often pulled to the side and spent time alone in prayer. It is never revealed what he prayed for in those solitary times, except when the tempter meets him in the wilderness. Perhaps Jesus prays for his disciples, or talks with His Father, or is simply quiet and still for the moment. Depending on the Sunday, my Baptist guilt complex either pounds on me or God’s grace is triumphant. One of the two wins. More and more, it’s the grace of God that sweeps into the moment and reminds me of the Sunday mornings in my growing-up days that I leaned against my dad in the midst of worship and slumbered for more than twenty seconds. Of course, the weight of my head pressed against him may have kept him from his own nodding off as Pastor Zachary went on and on about the things of God and the needs of his people.

On a more personal note, my twenty-second naps may be an indication of the tiredness of my soul. Sometimes we pastor-types drive ourselves relentlessly. We are ever mindful of the problems of others and frequently negligent about our own self-care. It is probably why, in my 36 years as a pastor and speaking almost every Sunday, I valued the Sunday afternoon nap. It was a gift from God that lasted much more than twenty seconds.

The difference now is that God does His renewing a lot faster. Thank you, Lord…and forgive me, Pastor Dan!

^” Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16)

In the midst of the valley of loss, I’ve been walking through, I came face-to-face with a road sign that said “Grace Ahead. Approach with Confidence.” The small print beneath the bright gold sign bore the words of Hebrews 4:16 in spectacular cursive curls and swirls.

The news of what lay ahead and, actually, had already been traveling in, slowed my pace and lifted my chin from its stare at my feet. Jesus had been waiting. Like a Kansas Interstate roadside rest stop, he had been awaiting my realization of the need to pull to the side, to stop for mercy, to find the welcome of grace.

Receiving mercy is not an easy thing for me. It’s a humbling indication of my stumbling humanness, a reminder that the “S” on my T-shirt doesn’t stand for Superman, but rather one of many other “S” words like stupid…and stupid…and simply stupid. In fact, I have a T-shirt that says pretty much the same thing. “S” doesn’t stand for Superman.

Receiving mercy is the promise of our Father, and yet, I too often speed by the offer, thinking that getting on with the journey is more important than a quiet encounter with my Creator.

Today, the gift of discoverable grace has so overwhelmed me that I’ve given up the fight of holding back the tears. It is my time of need, my time of stillness. The road sign from Hebrews reminds me that I don’t need to cringe in doubt and fear, that, like the story of Jesus welcoming the children, there are open arms extended for me.

I am not suddenly exiting the valley of loss, but I am assured of a traveling partner Who is incredibly comforting and understanding.

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Corinthians 5:17)

It is a summer of newness. New basketball players who are new, or almost new, to the sport. Like me appearing on the beach after a winter of wearing warm clothing, my skin so white it hurt the eyes to see me, I have basketball players who are completely untanned from any exposure to the game of basketball.

One new player doesn’t understand the differences between a zone defense and a man-to-man defense. When we play zone, she chases another player around the court like she’s trying to catch a rabbit, and when we play man-to-man, she’s as immovable as a stone statue.

Four other players believe it is mandatory that they dribble the basketball with their right hand when they get it! I’m taking the air out of the basketball for practice! My guess is that most of them will still try to dribble it.

New ventures have their bumps and oops. No one is a natural basketball player. The fundamentals need to be understood and taught in order for the new player to see how the basics all fit together to make the student into a player.

The same principle could be applied to new believers in Jesus. No one on their own understands the grace of God, the cross of Christ, or the forgiveness of sin. To a new follower of Jesus there needs to be discipling, teaching, modeling, and coaching.

When I put a new basketball player on the court without instruction or guidance, chaos is likely to happen. They could be playing defense when we’re on offense, run with the ball instead of dribbling it, shoot at the wrong basket, throw to the wrong team, stand in the wrong place, decide to go to the restroom even though they are new of the players in the game. Weird things happen when new players try to function in a game they don’t quite understand yet.

New followers of Jesus can end up creating their own understanding of the gospel as a result of not being discipled in the true gospel. They may have done some watching of how people who say they are Christians act, what they do, and the words they say. In other words they may be able to learn the language of Christianity, the actions of the Christian faith, and the looks of the faith, but not understand the reason for the Christian faith. They might understand parts, but not the whole.

When you come to think about it, that was a problem that was evident in the early churches to which Paul wrote his epistles. The Galatians had their Judaizers who didn’t understand grace. The Corinthians…well, they had a lot of warts that they didn’t seem to see, resulting in a theology that was more warped than that old record album that was left too close to the fire. The Colossians needed some guidance on the divine nature of Jesus, and the Thessalonians needed some clarification on what happens to people who have died.

Newness needs shaping. I’d better say that, but better. Newness needs grace-filled shaping. There’s a new person who has been created through Jesus. Who they have been is being redefined by who they now are. In many ways, they are the same people, but they now have a new purpose, a new understanding of who they are and why they are.

“Listen, my son, to your (grand) father’s instruction and do not forsake your (grand) mother’s teaching.” (Proverbs 1:8)

My oldest grandchild graduated from high school a week ago. He had turned 18 just thirteen days before that. That’s a lot going on in a short amount of time. Here is what I said to him before the ceremony…with additional comments added, because that’s what pastors do…get wordy!

Dear Jesse,

I can’t believe you’ve reached that point on your journey where you can proudly hold that high school diploma up (Although the school hadn’t actually put it in your nice-looking folder yet.). Congratulations, oldest grandson!

As you go forward, two simple pieces of advice that I hope you’ll keep in mind. Notice that I said simple. They are, and yet it is extremely easy to lose one’s perspective and drift away from them. I, for one, have drifted more often like a six-year-old drifting away from the boys’ clothes and toward the Legos in Target.

So, first of all, Jesse, make it a priority to do what GOD needs you to do before YOU get enamored with doing what YOU want to do. A life that honors God is one that keeps that in mind. The world will always tempt you to do what you want to do. Most of the time, that means doing what the culture wants you to do and what it wants you to be. Remembering who you are, a follower of Jesus saved by the grace of God through the sacrificial love displayed on the cross, is easy to drift away from. God needs you to be a devoted follower of Christ. You are precious in His eyes, but also pivotal for the achieving of His purposes.

And second, Jesse, what God wants you to do, simply put, is what you need to do. He won’t force it on you, but please understand if He is able to create the universe out of nothing, He is more than able to navigate for you the course for your life, a way that will be fulfilling and purposeful, impactful for generations to come.

However, the challenge is being able to filter the wants of God to stand alone from the wants of Jesse. As we grow in our relationship with Jesus, you’ll discover that your wants and God’s will align more and more. Such alignment brings with it challenges, but also an inner peace that your life is God-honoring.

Jesse, what you need to do is what god wants you to do. Blessings on you as you begin the next part of the journey.

Love You!

Granddad

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:19-21)

I took an armload of books to the public library yesterday. They have a place where donated books can be left. So…with tears…and a prayer as if I was standing at a grave site, I left them for future unknown readers. If I had a handful of dirt in my hand, I would have thrown it on the covers.

Books are my chocolate, my weakness. Amazon makes it too easy. Garage sales are like going on a hunt for buried treasure. Of course, I haven’t read all the books that I have. Many of them have been a part of my library since Moby Dick was a minnow. They make creaking sounds as I open their covers. The pages have yellowed. Dangling threads reveal a time when book covers were made differently.

Giving up books is like giving up my tickets to a Colorado Rockies game. No, just kidding on that one. It would be more like giving up my first-class seat on a transatlantic flight and having me sit between two toddlers who persist in synchronized bawling. So…understand that taking that armload of literature to the library is a step toward maturity.

Honestly, if I passed away in the next few days, Carol would box up almost all of the books and donate them to the library. They wouldn’t survive past the viewing! So…I’m the one who is obsessed. Carol would be ready to turn the page, so to speak.

Each of us has something that could be labeled as our kryptonite, the thing that we treasure to excess. The thing we envision being a part of heaven’s mansion. For some, it might be a pantry of cookies and baked goods. For others, it’s a vault filled with cash and bonds. For still others, it’s family pictures that tell of past journeys and blessings.

What is it that gets stored up? What is it that I think twice about parting with? What is it that would not survive a catastrophe? The harsh, honest truth is that most of our treasures will end up on the curb, at Goodwill, or given to someone who will end up putting them in a box and dumping them in the far corner of the basement. Although our treasures have value to us, in the eyes of others they are junk or, at best, a bother.

What does have value is our relationship with Jesus? Although others may not comprehend its priceless significance, our relationship with Jesus will neither rust nor tatter. Thieves can’t take it. Judgmental people can’t render a verdict against it. Pessimists can’t peck away at it. It’s a treasure that retains its value…for eternity.

It’s painful, but I’m on a mission to lessen the number of books on my shelves and increase the volume of my intensity with Jesus.

“Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.“

 Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone.  If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” (Romans 12:16-18)

Working with young people (middle school and high school) has exposed me to numerous interesting situations and personalities. Kids can be the most caring people on the face of the earth and, in a different situation, can also be the most insensitive, cruel creatures.On one day you can witness an outpouring the collections for the local food pantry, as well as someone stealing a classmate’s bag of Cheetos. One middle school teacher I was substitute teaching for would describe her students as “awesome and on task” one day and “feral” the next.

Why is it that a group of adolescents has such a hard time finding harmony? Why is it so difficult for them to “live at peace with everyone?” My answer, although I have no research to support it, is that they simply mimic what they see adults doing. The circumstances might be different but the roots are the same. When fights breakout between adults at graduation ceremonies (From kindergarten to high school), you have to shake your head and ask yourself if the video is AI or real?

Answer: It’s real.

Was the Apostle Paul so clueless as to suggest that we should be about seeking peace and harmony in how we relate to one another and treat each other? Were his words as absurd as someone believing the Washington Wizards will win the NBA Championship in 2027?

It seems that Paul believes it. Not the Wizards being champions, but rather that followers of Jesus are able to live in harmony and peace. In his podcast to the Romans, he mentions things for them to NOT do. Conceit is not to take root, not even to make a brief appearance. Pride needs to be surrendered. It leads to an attitude that won’t admit being wrong. Put two prideful people together and you have the plot line for an afternoon TV soap opera. And how about repaying evil for evil? That’s just another way of saying “seek revenge.” Getting even with someone is the attitude that will lead to another Hatfields and McCoys battle that will escalate and continue until people can’t even remember what they’re at odds about.

And Paul says to do what is right. Not what feels good and gets some press in the paper, but rather what is the God-honoring, Christ-reflecting thing to do. Be willing to associate with people who are different than you. That is, establish a culture that is committed to equality and mutual respect for everyone. For a sarcastic example, instead of the Baptists beating the Methodists to the restaurants after church on Sunday morning, rub elbows with one another in the same cafe booth. Harmony often gets pushed to the side when we become more focused on our differences instead of remembering the sacredness of our core similarities.

I know, I know…Paul is talking to people of a different time, culture, and circumstances. We raise our hands to make that excuse out of our determination to feel right, instead of a need to feel togetherness and…harmony! I’m afraid there will always be those folks to, figuratively speaking, can’t carry a tune but can easily destroy a soothing melody.