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God’s Order

June 28, 2024

“When a trumpet blast is sounded, the tribes camping on the east are to set out. At the sounding of a second blast, the camps on the south are to set out. The blast will be the signal for setting out.” (Numbers 10:5-6)

My oldest daughter is an organizational guru. In her growing-up years, when we’d plan a vacation, she’d pack a month ahead of time. And then she’d unpack and repack! She’d arrange her clothing in just the right order. Businesses should have hired her to straighten out their messes, but she was only twelve. Now, she has the most organized third-grade classroom in the universe.

I am not that way. Perhaps that’s why I’m so amazed by her. I’m awed by order and structure. Yes, I suppose I have hints of it in my writing. I admire a student who organizes her thoughts in a clear and orderly manner, and the words flow.

I’ve just recently made my way through the Old Testament books of Leviticus and Numbers. One thing I’ve taken from those books is the order of God. For the Israelites, everything had an order to it. Their laws created order. Reading Leviticus can become tedious and repetitious, but it sets in place the system and structure for the people to follow. The Deceiver longs for chaos and confusion, but God desires understanding and consistency.

For instance, the order in which Israel’s twelve tribes marched is spelled out. Everyone had their place, their position. Responsibilities (Today, we call them job descriptions) were spelled out. Numbers 18 gives the duties for priests and Levites, as well as what offerings should go for their support.

Leviticus goes into detail about cleanliness. Cleanliness is next to godliness, and God desired order and structure in what the people were to do to get back to being clean. For example, if there was a skin rash, it needed to be taken care of. If there was sin, certain sacrifices were required. Sin upset the orderliness of God’s creation.

That order is apparent in the New Testament as well. The Corinthian church had issues in their worship gatherings (1 Corinthians 14), and Paul outlines what is needed to bring order into the midst of what had become chaotic. There was even an organizational structure in the first church that was created to care for widows and orphans, of which there were many. Even God’s concept of sabbath rest has an order and structure to it. Our bodies are wonderfully made in a way that rest (body, mind, and spirit) is an ingredient in a healthy recipe for life. Every sabbath day is a day of recovery and renewal. Not a day every so often, but regularly.

In our culture, chaos is a word that is increasingly used to refer to world situations, family relationships, the weather, and airports the day before Thanksgiving. Chaos is not a pleasant word when we use it in a sentence or a life situation.

On the other hand, many people don’t see the purpose in doing things in order or believe that God has an order for how things should be done. Order…sometimes it sounds so outdated, yet it looks so good in the rearview mirror after we have progressed into the land of troubles.

When we stray or mistrust the plans of God, we open the doors to misery.

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Stumbling In His Hands

June 25, 2024

“The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand.” (Psalm 37:23-24)

As my basketball-playing days disappear into the rearview horizon, I’ve taken up walking more while listening to music or podcasts. In fact, I walked to Starbucks this morning carrying my backpack like I’m a middle school kid off to school. All I need to complete that picture from yesteryear is my Popeye lunchbox.

Last night, as I was out for a short walk around our neighborhood, it occurred to me that my eyes were surveying the sidewalk in front of me for cracks, pine cones, and stones that might cause me to stumble and fall. I’ve sprained my ankle many times over the years, but at the age of seventy, I have a growing concern about my hips and knees and how a misstep could create a situation that would take a few months to recover from.

It seems that stumbling seventy-year-olds are common. As I stepped off the curb yesterday, I remembered these verses in Psalm 37. The picture of the Lord not letting me fall revealed how loving and caring our God is. I may watch out for pine cones and stones as I’m out for a walk, but the Lord I trust will be close to me as I daily walk with Him. In fact, He promises to be so near me that, as I teeter on the edge of disaster, He will not let me fall.

When shadows conceal the clarity of the way, the One who brings light to dark places gives me peace of mind. Even though I can’t see what lies ahead, he can and upholds me. The Message paraphrase says God “has a grip” on my hand. That reminds me of walks with each of my grandkids in their beginning steps. The unsteadiness of each short stride was evident to anyone watching, but each of them also had an unwavering trust in the one whose hand they grasped.

I thank God that He’s unwavering in His love for me and His watching over and out for me.

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Fears and Forts

April 28, 2024

 “On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!”  After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.” (John 20:19-20)

When I was a kid, wet snowstorms were a gift from God. Give us six or more inches of the heavy, wet stuff, and we’d be outside building a snowman with a huge lower rolled-up body and diminishing features as you sculpted up from there. Snowstorms also meant at least two snow forts, separated by the imaginary Ohio River or a battle-scarred front yard. We packed the snow together to create firm foundations, solid and resembling medieval castles, and then we’d go higher and higher. Our purpose: to protect us from the snowballs that would be seeking unprotected targets. Getting hit by a snowball meant someone was losing, so we built our walls solid and imposing. It wasn’t uncommon for all the snow in the front yard to be gathered into the snow forts, leaving behind shivering blades of grass.

And then we would hide behind the wall, unwilling to stick our heads up and take a look. Our fear about what was outside our fort was greater than our desire to look beyond our wall. And yet, if we didn’t risk looking, we’d never know what was actually happening. Even worse, if neither snow fort person was willing to risk, we’d sit behind our walls, protected from the outside but not fulfilling our purpose.

That was a playful time for us. A more serious experience from the Bible comes with Jesus’s disciples after he has been crucified. They gather together in a room, some say the Upper Room, and lock the door. They’re afraid of what could be outside. They fear that those who were behind the crucifixion of Jesus are hunting for them. We’ll never know how long they would have been willing to stay locked up behind those walls since Jesus came and stood with them. If He had not come, the story would have been written in a depressing sort of way. Fear would have won, and faith would have been trivialized.

But he did come, and come into their midst! His presence resulted in the disciples risking their lives, laughing in the face of danger, and engaging with the culture of the times. Faith melts the walls away and guides us into areas that faith-less people fear. It allows us to enter into conversations with those who we have been told are different than us, not hide behind the walls of our close-mindedness.

How often does it seem that followers of Jesus are looking for victory instead of dialogue? Victory means I’ve hidden behind my wall until the exact moment my perceived enemy becomes vulnerable. It’s the direct punch that causes me to feel superior.

The thing is, being a follower of Jesus means He has already claimed the ultimate victory. Being a follower doesn’t mean I need to throw another punch. Being a follower simply means I’m to be faithful. Being faithful means my fears can be cast upon Him, and I no longer need to hide.

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Making Up Words

April 7, 2024


“All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness.” (2 Timothy 3:16)

My wife says I make up words. I hate to admit it, but she’s right. For example, I’ll say “I’m as hungry as a bukie!” “What’s a bukie?” she asks. I don’t know. I don’t even know how to spell bukie, which is why my spellcheck is going inbercitous right now.

Sometimes, I can’t think of a word and I kinda estimate what it might be, like “agritentious” or “predentible.” They just flow from the tongue as authentic as organic peanut butter. I must admit that playing “Words With Friends” on my cell phone has caused me to create pseudo-words that would give me mega-points if they were real…but they aren’t. Like a contestant on “Let’s Make A Deal!” about to see what’s behind Door #3, I bite my lip as I move the last letter into place, hoping that “Z-N-A-X-Q-U-A” has found its place in Webster’s Dictionary.

But then I see one of those commercials for a new drug that is being introduced and ask myself, “How did the drug company come up with a name that only National Spelling Bee contestants can correctly pronounce and spell?”

Teaching English Language Arts in middle school the last few years has made me realize some things about words. One, more kids than not can’t spell worth beans. Two, they don’t use spellcheck. And three, they make up nonsensical words. I could write a buk…I mean, a book about it!

I find that a lot of that happens with Scripture, too. Biblical illiteracy is evident, so people make up things that sound good, words that sound like they belong. It’s the other side of the coin of the tendency to cut out from the Bible the words that aren’t liked and sound too harsh for modern man. After all, doesn’t the Word say “God helps those who help themselves?”

No, it doesn’t. I think that was Ben Franklin. But it sounds logical. It sounds like wisdom that many people have adopted for their lives.

Other folk remember half the words and then make up the rest. They know the Bible says something about getting hit in the jaw, so they finish the verse with “turn the other way before you hit again.” Or they combine verses: “If someone hits you in the cheek, do unto him as he has done unto you.”

It brings to mind Marcion, a theologian from the second century who disliked the Old Testament. He rewrote the New Testament but removed all of the Old Testament references. In essence, he made up his own version of the Bible.

There are parts of the Bible that I don’t fully understand, but they are there for a reason. For example, unclear parts of the building instructions for the new bicycle only make sense after the whole bike has been assembled. I read the Word as it is and trust in God’s sovereignty and grace. It makes more sense than the inbercitousness of “buk.”

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Artificial Fear

March 3, 2024

“But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” (Daniel 3:18)

Just like my parents were, I’m a sugar-and-cream coffee guy. I learned it from them. Recently, at my neighborhood Starbucks (where I’m writing this on the last stool on the right), I decided to switch from my raw sugar and try one of the artificial sweeteners. One of the baristas, who I always banter back and forth with, said, “Bill, that stuff will give you brain cancer.”

I responded with, “It’s only one time. I don’t think I’ll get brain cancer from having one packet of sweetener.

“Just saying,” she said, a smile on her face. “They’ve done studies, you know.”

Another barista, with a somber tone, added, “Pretty much everything will give you cancer.”

I took my mug back to my stool and sipped on death for a few minutes. But it just didn’t taste right. It was more bitter than bitter and seemed to lay in my mouth like a spoonful of Castor Oil. After a few minutes, I gave in to my fear and went back for a fresh cup…with my usual raw sugar. The barista smiled at me and chuckled. It was as if she had triumphed over my insecurities and fears.

Someone once said, “Fear asks ‘what if.’ Faith says ‘even if.'” Those are great words, encouraging words. So often we allow a fear to grow from a seed to a full blown weed patch. A thought takes root and takes hold of our mind, our actions and inactions and faith gets defeated. We get mixed up on what the Book of Wisdom tells us and become convinced that we walk by sight and not by faith.

Three men, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, faced death because of their faith in God. The penalty for their unwavering commitment was to be cast into a fiery furnace and burned up. Despite what was ahead, they said the words “…even if…”

Getting to the “even ifs” in the midst of our challenges is hard to do. It’s like convincing a child who is learning how to swim that he can float on his back if he trusts in what the swimming instructor is saying. Until he can be convinced to surrender, he will splash and thrash in the water, afraid to try what will keep him afloat.

To clarify, God also inserted common sense and wisdom into our DNA. Having faith does not mean being stupid. Having faith does not mean I should jump out of a plane without a parachute because I believe God will take on the responsibility of being my parachute. Faith and wisdom are not oil and water that don’t mix well together.

I’m back on my stool this morning, finishing these thoughts. I thought about conquering my fear of artificial sweeteners and having a packet mixed into my Pike Place but decided against it, not because of my fear of brain cancer but because I simply don’t like it. I figured out that it was a decision that didn’t depend on faith. It’s just what my taste buds communicated to me.

Maybe I should pray, “Lord, give me the ability to drink my coffee black.” However, that might be stepping into the land of the ludicrous.

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Kidney Stone

February 15, 2024

“Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me.” (2 Corinthians 12:7)

I’ve been blessed with fairly decent health my whole life. Oh, there was the gallbladder episode, which made it a “past tense” part of my abdomen. And there was a broken jaw as a result of a first baseman not catching the softball as I stepped on the base. Other than those memorable experiences I’ve traveled the first 70 years missing the “potholes of life.”

Until this week, when I was in such excruciating pain that Carol drove me to the Emergency Room at 5:30 in the morning. Even a broken jaw didn’t compare with it. If I could, I would have knocked myself silly and laid on the couch unconscious.

A kidney stone.

There’s always been conjecture about the thorn in Paul’s side. Some think it was a person tormenting him. (We’ve all had people like that!) Others think it was some kind of situation that worried him sick. With my kidney stone affliction, my view of it has been altered. I know, I know, it’s a confusing verse. I mean…how was Paul bordering on being conceited…and what about this Satan messenger?

Sometimes, however, the thorns of life cause us to step back and see how blessed we are. For instance, I flew back from Ohio on Sunday. It had been a wonderful week of visiting my sister, and also meeting up with my brother. Thank the Lord that the misery in my tummy didn’t begin until I had returned. Small blessings are easily not seen until later.

Suffering and pain are a part of life. My assurance, however, is that the Lord is with me all the time and all the way. He goes before me and follows after me. No matter what kind of pain or suffering God is with each one of us.

No matter how much of the pain and complications are the result of our bad decisions (Can you say bad diet?), the Lord is with us. In fact, my uninvited visitor had been invited in a boatload of times as a result of my food and drink choices. Even though it was only 3mm in size, it felt like it was a snowball creating an avalanche of misery.

Just like in life, where the accumulation of our transgressions suddenly become too much and life takes on an emergency status. Even in the muck of our mess, the Lord is with us. His mercy is not dependent upon my perfection.

I still wonder, though, was it a kidney stone that was bugging Paul?

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Gospel Pollution

January 31, 2024

“Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20)

Jesus’ last command and commission to His disciples concerned taking the good news of God’s grace, forgiveness, and salvation to the world. It’s the basis for a number of mission organizations. As is our human nature; however, once in a while, a great message is crammed into a dumb idea. For example…

In the Northern Ireland area of County Londonderry, environmentalists have been recovering thousands of plastic bottles the past few years that have been dumped into the River Bann. Each of the bottles contains a Bible verse inside the bottle. The spreading of the Word has, in essence, been bad for the environment. The Good News is leaving a bad taste in the mouths of those concerned with the habitat.

Does a passion for spreading the Gospel trump the need to protect God’s creation? That’s a good question for a small group to discuss. One of those hot topics that has the potential to rise to the surface the opinions and beliefs of people.

The element that is often forgotten in the conversation is integrity. Living out the Great Commission of Jesus with integrity is more Christ-like than an anonymous message of scripture in a plastic bottle that proclaims the name of Jesus. If you want to go deeper with this, the message is often tainted by the messenger. We convey the message of a “plastic Jesus” instead of a heartfelt desire to share what He means to us.

Bottom line: What drew me, and continues to draw me, to Jesus are the messages of various Christians’ lives that display integrity, grace, humbleness, mercy, servanthood, and love. Consistency in a person’s walk brings validity to the message.

So what would Jesus do? I envision Jesus conversing with people…as he went about wading through the water and mud of the River Bann, picking up plastic bottles and other trash.

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My Sunday Best

January 27, 2024

“But the father said to his servants, “Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.” (Luke 15:22)

I’d put my bowtie on each Sunday morning, drape it with a brown tweed sport coat, attach it to a white button-down dress shirt, and finish the look with the only pair of dress pants I owned (Or my parents owned that were hanging in my closet!), and shiny black Florsheim shoes that made your feet feel like they were being smothered. It was church time, and our family always wore our Sunday best.

It was the only time during the entire week that my mom wore a hat and the only time my brother and I were expected to suffer for three hours in the torture of looking our best for the Lord. Our family of five crammed into the Ford and made the five-minute drive to church, the three kids captured in the backseat, Dad driving, and Mom supervising the backseat inmates.

Wearing our Sunday best was the non-negotiable. We were so accustomed to it that we never even thought of questioning it, even considered the strategy of whining and pouting. By the time I was in the fifth grade, I had retired the bowtie to the back of the bottom dresser drawer and upgraded to a necktie. After all, in our church (First Baptist Church of Williamstown, West Virginia) fifth-grade boys could be junior ushers for the Sunday morning worship service, handing out bulletins and taking up the offering. A suit and necktie were the required attire for such a position.

I’m not sure if the theology of wearing our Sunday best was understandable at that point. To come to church looking sloppy was vaguely connected to being more like the prodigal son of the Bible, wayward and lost from the loving arms of God. For the men, even wearing a suit but no tie was a dip toward depravity.

Since those growing-up years, things have changed on Sunday mornings. Wearing a suit is now more an identifier of the wearer’s generation than a desire to please the Lord. Jeans and a button-down shirt not tucked into the pants is now the norm. Or wearing a jersey of one’s favorite professional sports team, a tee shirt bought at the last rock concert, or Hello Kitty attire.

We now reside in an in-between time where some of the worshippers come dressed to the max while others look as if they just rolled out of bed. I’m an in-betweener. If I’m speaking, I wear Land’s End slacks and a dress shirt, but if I’m pew-sitting, I’m “jeaning.”

The thing many of us from the Sunday-best generation are still nervous about is the scriptural truth that tells us that God gives His best to us, regardless of what we’re willing to give Him. The story of the prodigal son blows us away. The kid who disrespected his father, walked away, and rebelled against the one who had blessed him and raised him is given “the best” when he comes to his senses and returns.

In essence, God gives His Sunday best to us no matter who we are or aren’t. Bowties, neckties, no ties, tie-dyed…He gives His best, not because of who we are but because He wants, even hungers, for our best.

No divine hand-me-downs. No sloppy seconds. Only the best.

Not what we deserve, but rather what He desires for us.

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Fencing The Gospel

January 22, 2024

Friends of mine told me about one of their seminary professors who, when invited to speak at a church that only allowed the King James Version to be used (The Bible that Jesus used!), would bring a bible written in either Hebrew or Greek with him and read the original language. After all, he would say sarcastically, real Christians read the original language. For some reason, he never got invited to come and speak again.

Many churches have paranoia about anything outside of their comfort zone. Like a fortress constructed of high stone walls and surrounded by a moat, they guard against suspicious beliefs and suspect behavior. The problem is that “the enemies” of each fortress church are different. What is seen as normal customs and living for one church is taboo in another. It leads to a confused public, wondering why the gospel of Jesus is qualified in different ways by different folk.

For example, in my growing-up days at a Southern Baptist Church in Kentucky, the men went out for a smoke between Sunday School and the worship service. Most men had a pack of Winstons or Lucky Strikes in their coat pocket and puffed away before praising Jesus. However, if any of those men had a bottle of Jim Beam at home, it would have been hidden in the back of the cupboard. No good and respected man of God would have had a liquor cabinet at home. Our church was fine with the tobacco, but Kentucky bourbon was not tolerated.

As a kid, I could never quite understand why the Methodists were allowed to do certain things, but we Baptists were on the road to Hell for even considering them. To even ask questions such as “How do I know Jesus died for me and wants a personal relationship with me?” or “Why don’t we ever talk about the Holy Spirit in our church?” or “Why is it always a man who speaks on Sunday morning at church, but my mom does most of the talking at home?” was taken like opening wide the gate and letting the evils of the Enemy storm the fortress.

The gospel was fenced with certain codes of conduct and foundational beliefs that were never questioned. They became the identifiers, the qualifiers of one’s commitment level. In some fortresses, the Holy Spirit was on a short leash; in others, grace was guarded. In one tabernacle, an exorbitant number of “buts” were evident. “Jesus died for everyone, but…” “The love of God is available for all, but…” “Missing church isn’t a sin, but…”

It’s as if the gospel alone isn’t strong enough to stand on its own like it needs to be wrapped in bubble wrap and protected by solid barriers. Thus, someone searching for understanding and trying to find out why Jesus loves him is frequently frustrated by the quicksand of the questioning. It has more potential to be a journey focused on appropriate moral conduct instead of a spiritual endeavor. Oddly enough, it can be more about clarifying what can destroy your walk with God rather than how to walk with God or why God longs to walk closely with you.

A few decades ago, I was a part of a congregation that had gone through a split as a result of a charismatic part of the church. The spirit-filled group left with the senior pastor and formed another congregation, while the Mother Church found a new pastor who would be “more normal.” For a number of years after the split, it was as if the Holy Spirit was not welcome in that congregation. The walls had been built up to protect the inhabitants from any contact that even smelled of being spirit-filled. Where the Holy Spirit is not welcome, legalism becomes the law, and where legalism takes root, suspicion tags closely behind. One Wednesday night, Carol and I were leading a youth bible study, and there were moments of laughter as we talked about the scripture and the topic. A few days later, I was confronted by one of the pastors about the fact that the youth had been laughing in the midst of the bible study.

Just as there was no joy in Mudville when mighty Casey struck out, there was to be no laughter in that congregation. It was a defeating moment for me as I tried to figure out what it meant to be a leader in a fortress church. All the things I learned in three years of seminary didn’t fit well in that situation. Fifteen months after beginning, and seriously looking at leaving the ministry, I was rescued by another congregation where it was deemed okay to ask questions about the faith, search deeper, and…laugh!

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My Irritations Through Jesus’s Eyes

January 4, 2024

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well.” (Matthew 5:38-40)

Sometimes when I’m out for a walk, I listen to Andy Stanley’s sermons. Recently, he was doing a message on underreacting to overreactions. He asked the question, “What irritates you?” and then suggested that the question be asked again through the eyes of Jesus.

Uh-oh!

It got me thinking and cringing about the results. For example, reality TV irritates me, or as I like to call it, “Lack of Reality TV”. How would Jesus react? Thinking of scripture, I think Jesus would point us toward the Kingdom of God…“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.” The priorities and the drama of this world are not the priorities of Kingdom people.

I thought about the other things in life that cause me to grind my teeth: college athletics transfer portal, helicopter parents, Christians who are so narrow-minded they won’t even drink root beer, a 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle with 999 pieces, scam calls, dogs that bark at nothing for an hour at a time (in the backyard behind our backyard), and speeding motorcyclists who zig-zag through traffic like they’re going down a slalom ski course.

But how would Jesus react? It seems that Jesus only got stern and confrontational with the most religious people of His day. For most of the irritating items on my list, I’m afraid He would tell me to get over them. The realization of that fact grinds at me but also brings me back to the fact that I live in a fallen creation and I’M one of the fallen creatures. I pick my nose when no one is looking and edge up my speedometer when it suits me. I also have a way of justifying myself like it’s a protective shield around my fragile ego. I don’t like to ask the question, “How do I irritate Jesus?”

Our hunger to look perfect and think of ourselves as perfect needs to kneel in the shadow of the cross. It is only in that slim place of darkness that we can truly see who we are and rejoice in the saving grace of God.

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