WHAT KEEPS ME FROM RUNNING?

One of the better book titles I've come across in a while is THE ART OF RACING IN THE RAIN. The 2008 book by Garth Stein hit the big screen in movie form in 2019 (Remember going to movies?). The story is told from the perspective of Enzo, a Golden Retriever - that immediately made it a must read for me. 

I won't bore you with a book review. I'll simply focus on one line that struck me:

There is no dishonor in losing the race... only in not racing because you are afraid to lose. 

I wonder what races remain un-run because of my fear of the course? That's a bit of a deep and melancholy thought for my first cup of Sunday morning coffee. But one does wonder. 

I've heard it asked, "What would you do if you knew you couldn't fail?" In some ways I like the thought; it brings out my inner dreamer. However, if there is no possibility of failure there is no bravery, no pioneering spirit, and no moment of upraised arms, head thrown back, screaming at the sky. 

I've written in the past on a couple curse words: Regret and If only. It is difficult not to tie in several of these ditties here, but my coffee would go cold and you, the reader, might get weary of my words. So I may be posting several similar thoughts that are percolating - along with a few recycled posts. 

For this Sunday morning thought I'll just mention that experts (whomever they are) tell us it is not our failures in races run that later haunt us. It is the races un-run: The attempts un-attempted, the phone calls un-called, the miles un-driven, the "hellos" un-said, the feelings un-expressed, the mountains unclimbed - whatever your mountain or mine might be. It is these races un-raced that crack open the door to regret. 

I want to race in the rain. I want to fail knowing what I attempted was too big; then to succeed attempting a race even bigger. (And a side note: my bio pic is black & white as is my scraggly beard, with more and more of the white... it's NEVER too late to stand at the Start Line and, well... START!)

A pretty deep thinker once wrote (my paraphrase): Forgetting what is behind you, the baggage of your past (both failures and successes), and straining forward to the goal in front of you, run... Fix your eyes on the goal - whether it is the summit, the finish line, or just the next couple steps on the course. Run with endurance! Race even though it be raining! 

- The Apostle Paul (kind of) in Philippians 3:12-14 and (possibly Paul) in Hebrews 12:1-2. 

That's enough for now. More to come. Thanks for hanging in.

For now...

D

SERVANTS & SAINTS

 Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus, to all the saints in Christ Jesus... -- Philippians 1:1

I began reading through Philippians this morning. Why? Paul\"s letter to the Philippians is known as The letter of joy. In the midst of the storms of life, a reminder of joy sounds good to me. 

I didn\"t get far into my reading when something leapt out; and frankly, it wasn\"t what I was looking for. 

Paul opens the letter with a fairly normal greeting. In his hello, two words jumped out immediately:

SERVANTS & SAINTS

Paul was an uber-apostle. His writings and influence helped shape the early church and the (our) faith throughout the centuries. His life was a picture of the miraculous and gut-it-out faithfulness. His ears heard the audible voice of Jesus and the grating chorus of detractors. Paul lived for his (our) faith. Paul died for his (our) faith. Paul was a saint. (I know this because his first name is Saint, as in Saint Paul.) 

It\"s interesting to me that Paul didn\"t begin his letter: "Paul and Timothy, saints of Christ Jesus, to all the servants..." Nope, the opposite. Paul calls himself (and Timothy) servants, and the everyday people, the holding-on-by-a-fingernail believers, he addresses as saints. 

And that\"s it for this post. You and I are saints. You and I are servants. I propose that the more Saintly we become, the more Servantly we are. Or maybe, the more Servantly we are (in action), the more Saintly we become. Or... maybe it\"s both. Yea, I think that\"s it. 

You and I are SAINTS...

Believe and hold on to it. It\"s something Christ did for us. 

You and I are SERVANTS:

Live it and do it. It\"s something Christ does through us. 

God, the only way for me to understand I am a saint is to live as a servant. And the power to truly serve comes from understanding you have made me a saint. 

For now...

D

SERVANTS & SAINTS

 Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus, to all the saints in Christ Jesus... - Philippians 1:1

I began reading through Philippians this morning. Why? Paul's letter to the Philippians is known as The letter of joy. In the midst of the storms of life, a reminder of joy sounds good to me. 

I didn't get far into my reading when something leapt out; and frankly, it wasn't what I was looking for. 

Paul opens the letter with a fairly normal greeting. In his hello, two words jumped out immediately:

SERVANTS & SAINTS

Paul was an uber-apostle. His writings and influence helped shape the early church and the (our) faith throughout the centuries. His life was a picture of the miraculous and gut-it-out faithfulness. His ears heard the audible voice of Jesus and the grating chorus of detractors. Paul lived for his (our) faith. Paul died for his (our) faith. Paul was a saint. (I know this because his first name is Saint, as in Saint Paul.) 

It's interesting to me that Paul didn't begin his letter: "Paul and Timothy, saints of Christ Jesus, to all the servants..." Nope, the opposite. Paul calls himself (and Timothy) servants, and the everyday people, the holding-on-by-a-fingernail believers, he addresses as saints. 

And that's it for this post. You and I are saints. You and I are servants. I propose that the more Saintly we become, the more Servantly we are. Or maybe, the more Servantly we are (in action), the more Saintly we become. Or... maybe it's both. Yea, I think that's it. 

You and I are SAINTS...

Believe and hold on to it. It's something Christ did for us. 

You and I are SERVANTS:

Live it and do it. It's something Christ does through us. 

God, the only way for me to understand I am a saint is to live as a servant. And the power to truly serve comes from understanding you have made me a saint. 

For now...

D

LIVING THE DREAM

Yesterday afternoon I had the "opportunity" to squeeze into a Delta window seat on an airplane the size of a Volkswagen. I typically hold my breath as I watch people come down the aisle, quietly saying to myself, "I hope it's her... I hope it's her..." and occasionally, "I hope it's him..." wondering who will be my new best friend for the next two hours. Before you think that's creepy, my one criterion? Small. I want a petite person to sit next to. 

The big biker that slowed at my row did not fit the bill. We exchanged an OK, so this is how it is glance, and he folded himself into the aisle seat. I said, "How are you doing?" He quipped, "... living the dream."

The next two hours was a dance of steel-toe-boot footsie and obligatory shoulder bumper-cars. Both seasoned travelers, and big guys, we knew the game; without a word, "You go forward, I'll go back... switch..."

Despite being a  human Pringle I did what I do best on flights: I fell into a hard, yet contorted sleep. However, I woke up just in time for the Belvitas. (Peanuts are a thing from flights long past.) 

I groggily asked my row-mate if KC was home. He said it is and that he'd been working in Detroit and spending a lot of time in the air. (Very familiar territory.) Then he said it again, "I'm just living the dream." But the way he said it struck me. "Are you?" I wondered. "Are you really living the dream? Am I?"

As we talked I realized his work wasn't his dream. But it fueled his dream. It enabled his passion. And that's a good thing. He enjoyed his work, and it gave him some freedom to pursue a dream. And what could be better?

I'm on a fence here. On one side I think, Follow your dreams and don't settle. On the other, are some of the harsh realities that life brings. You know the ones that sometimes force us into choices that aren't quite dreamlike. 

Follow your dreams is great at high school commencements. Student loans water it down just a bit at college graduations. (Mike Rowe - Dirtiest Jobs Mike Rowe - has an interesting take on the subject, but you'll have to do the Google work.) The real world, not the MTV version but the real thing, can be a face-smacker. The realness of reality creates demands of our energies, our time, and even our dreams. 

Life is more complex than any bumper-sticker theology or inspirational meme. Life happens. And in the process dreams sometime fade. That said, I admit to being a dreamer - even at my age. Even with the Niagara Falls of water already under the bridge. I'm a dreamer. There, I said it. 

I remember a line that struck me from the 1983 cinematic masterpiece Flashdance. In a poignant moment Nick says to Alex, the hip-hop-ballet-dancing welder who ran-in-placed herself into every young man's fantasy, "Don't you understand... you give up your dream, you die!" 

We are all damaged in some way: damaged psyches, damaged relationships, damaged dreams. But that's OK. As a matter of fact, it's better than OK. It's human. And it's incredible. 

Dreaming of being an astronaut as a four-year-old is easy. Continuing to dream as a 40, 50, 60-something is fantastic and difficult. The content of the dream may change. Gone are the spacesuits, to be replaced with... well, I won't attempt to fill in your blank. 

As often when I begin to emote on the keyboard, my thought hasn't run it's course. But my time has. I think I have a bunch more to say. And if you've made it even this far through my rambling, you are a warrior. And I thank you. 

So, more to come. 

Keep living the dream!

For now...

D

Untitiled

I've had a few people ask why I stopped writing. My reaction is, "I didn't!" Then I pause and do the math. Wow, I stopped writing. (I have to admit my other thought is: "Thanks for noticing!")

I didn't plan to stop. I guess the inverse is true too: I didn't have a (good) plan to keep going. The world didn't suffer in my absence; and it won't so much benefit by my input. But, I'm picking up my proverbial pen anyway. 

One of the first ditties I wrote in this blog - a forum which will be finding a new title soon - was Shooters Shoot. The idea was built around basketball and my son. 

He was an unselfish player, with great court sense, precise passing skills and tenacious defense. I constantly reminded him though, that often the best thing for the team, and therefore the most UNselfish thing, was for him to shoot. Said like a proud and overly-involved dad I know, but many times his not-so-great shot, was better than any other taken by his team for several trips down the court. 

I would unceasingly chirp, "SHOOTERS SHOOT!"

Writing has been my "shot." I was a pastor for many years and had the opportunity to speak hundreds of times per year. But times change. Directions change. Venues change. We change. But some things are constant. Shooters Shoot is one for me. 

One day I may write something that you find meaningful. Whether that happens or not, I can promise the effort and the joy of releasing the (writing) shot was meaningful to me. 

I will shoot some spiritual shots. Some people won't like it. Some will disagree. (I'm always open for mutually-respectful open-minded dialogue.) Others may too-quickly accept my words because of the ministry credentials. Don't. Weigh them. Filter them. Test them. And always know that before something hits the page, I've wrestled with it - and usually still am. 

I will shoot some inspirational shots. I'll quote Rocky, Maximus Decimus Meridius and William Wallace, along with Winnie the Pooh. I hope in these you find just a little spark to get over the hump. I hope you and I realize the incredible souls we are, and can be. We all need a push now and then. 

I will shoot some smart-ass shots. Sorry, not very pastoral. But it's who I am. And it makes me snicker as I write. 

I'll post in various spots and hope to annoy with my presence. Inspiration for me comes in spurts. So I have no idea of my shooting regularity.

So there it is for now. I'm picking up the pen - (He announced, as the world said, "huh, who are you?") No matter, Shooters Shoot.  

At least now I can say to those who asked why I stopped writing: "What are you talking about, I haven't stopped shooting." 

Yeah, but this particular blog ditty isn't inspirational. It's not spiritual. And it's certainly not smart-ass enough to be funny, you say. 

Oh well, I can't express to you at this very moment in a Detroit hotel room, how meaningful it is to me. 

That's my shot.

For now,

D

EVERYTHING

His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness...

-- 2 Peter 1:3

We have everything we need.

That is a simple statement, but a hard truth to comprehend.

As I write, I am sitting on the couch in my air-conditioned house, drinking coffee. I am about to head to an air-conditioned church and sit in a padded chair - and drink more coffee. Most who read this will be in similar comfort. 

My point: I've never known extreme poverty or the desperation of searching for a meal. I can only imagine how foreign the statement, we have everything we need, might sound to a family who is being evicted, or to one having just buried a child, or to a mother combing scraps in the Matamoros Mexico dump to feed to her toddler (which I've seen).

Trite answers don't work. And American Christianity seems to often boil down to triteness and self-focus. I'll take it a step further (since it's my blog), trite and self-serving Christianity is not Christianity. And in my Christian journey, I am often guilty of "unchristianess." (Again, my blog, I can invent words.)

When we read Peter's words above, we often miss some important depth.

His divine power - Whose power? God's. (As in, "God's, period!" Not yours, not mine.)

...has granted - past tense, with continuing and ongoing results. (It's a Greek grammatical tense thing.)

...to us - This promise is given to the community of faith. And though it has individual impact, it is us, not me. (More on this in a moment.)

...all things - we have everything we need (keep reading).

...life and godliness - to live as God intends for us, (for our calling and purpose.)

This statement may sound trite, but it is true: We have everything we need in Christ. 

I have often heard it said that God will never allow me to face more than I can bear. I struggle with the statement, though the fact that I am alive and well (and writing), sings the melody of its truth. That stated, I'd like to amend the platitude: God will never allow us to face more than we can bear... together and through his strength and presence.

The Christian life is a life lived in community with others from whom and with whom we share strengths, weaknesses, joys and pain. And it is a body (Paul's analogy) that is completely interconnected drawing its strength and power from Christ.

So, with all these concepts in mind I can confidently state: We have everything we need.

I, for one, tend to want more... to look for more. A blog post I wrote in davidmstanleykineticlife.blogspot.com quotes Bono from U2, whose lyric cries, But I still haven't found what I'm looking for. 

But here is a truth I've learned and am learning: The real and worthy search in this life is not about looking for more. The worthwhile search is not the constant desire for something else, something other. The better journey is one that leads us to deeper understanding of WHO IS this one who provides, and who he has made us to be for ourselves and others.

That for which you search is not out there somewhere. It is instead found in a God who is a whisper away.

Keep searching... deeper.

God, I have everything I need... in you.

For now...

D

THE FURNACE

Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. 

- 1 Peter 4:12 

TV preachers who talk of happiness and material abundance as the true results of faith, tell only part of the story. We cannot appreciate abundance without knowing lack. We cannot be happy unless we've known joy in the midst of pain.

Through $30,000 smiles and caked makeup, they tell a half-true story. But where there is half-truth, there is falsehood.

I've always wondered how their message would sit with the Apostle Paul. "Paul," they might say, "if you truly had faith, you would be on a yacht and not in a dungeon. God wants you to be healthy, happy and rich." 

Paul might smile to himself - or cry - and continue writing the words:

I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. 

I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound.

In any and every circumstance, I learned the secret 

of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. 

I CAN DO ALL THINGS THROUGH HIM WHO STRENGTHENS ME. 

-- Philippians 4:11-13 

Yes, God does want us to know joy. Jesus is the embodiment of joy. His presence is the fullness of joy. As one (non-makeuped) preacher put it... KNOW JESUS, KNOW JOY. NO JESUS. NO JOY.

Yes, God does want us to experience abundance. And sometimes with that abundance comes wealth. But wealth measured in only stuff and money is not true wealth.

When we buy what the half-truth-tellers sell, we pay the consequences. We are surprised by trial. Worse, we feel deceived or defeated by trial's mere presence.

If you will allow an old preacher to preach for a moment (through morning-coffee teeth and with a new blemish on my cheek (who gets those at my age anyway?) - in other words, no $30K smile or makeup)... 

...The fire of trial will not defeat you. 

...It may burn away some things that, though painful, ultimately hold you back. 

...It will not consume you. 

...The fire of trial will REFINE you. It will FORGE your character. It will make you who can be. 

...And in the midst of the heat, you will find the presence of JOY.

I can't say that I have learned to look forward to trials. I don't necessarily embrace them (before or during). But I am better for the pain. And I bear the scars with an odd joy (and almost pride). I don't look forward to my next fiery trial. But I fear it less. Because within every furnace I've walked, there has been one who walks with me.



God, you have always been with me through the fire of trial. Refine me. Forge me.

For now...
D

Past / PASSED

Not that anyone in my little new FB circle needs wisdom from me - my wisdom pool runs pretty shallow anyway. But on the off chance it's encouraging in any way, this is what I'm thinking through today. (Partially plagiarized, partially original - kind of like the hundreds of sermons I preached over the years).

I Am Not Defined By My Past.

Today I am thankful that my past does not define me.

I am more than the culmination of my decisions and circumstances.

My past is just that... past; and it does not dictate my present or my future.

I am not defined by my past: I learn from it... I grow because of it... I find in it both joy and pain.

But I am more than my past. I am present... and I have a future.

Don't believe me... then take it up with the Creator!

Jesus: I have come that you may have life, and have it to the fullest.

Father: “I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.”

Paul: Forgetting and forgiving the past, I look forward to what lies ahead...

Father, thank you that my Past has PASSED.

For now...

D

HIDING PLACES (a stumbler's walk post)

There is no fear in love, 

but perfect love casts out fear.

--1 John 4:18

Fear cannot reside where love is. In the same way that light, by its very presence, drives away darkness, true love chases away fear. 

As children, we played Hide-and-Seek. I remember feeling a strange dread while hiding in corners of dark closets. I could hear the IT coming close and I would try not to breathe. Fear of being exposed was a little too gripping for a simple child's game. If the IT might just pass me by, just this once, I'd bolt from my hiding spot in hopes of reaching Home Base. There at Home Base I could stand and face the IT with no fear - no fear of exposure, no fear of being caught, no fear whatsoever. 

As adults we play Hide-and-Seek. The game is more covert. It is mostly internal. And it is not much of a game. We hide in closet corners of our own construction. And in the darkness, we fear being exposed. 

Ironically, in this version, there is no IT. Maybe better - the hiding itself is the IT. Lastly, lest I stretch the analogy too far, Home Base is not a static destination. Instead, our Home Base is a person. He is a person both to whom we run for refuge, and who seeks us out, even when we hide in shadows. 

His light exposes us. But just as darkness races away when light invades, fear fails when love enters the scene. Fear becomes memory, and at Home Base we find freedom. 

Jesus said, "I came to seek and save that which was lost," (Luke 19:10). That includes us, hiding in the shadows of our closet corners. He seeks us out and he shines darkness-defeating light into our lives. 

Where light is, darkness cannot be.

Where love is, fear cannot be.

Where Jesus is there is light and love. 

God, forgive me of my closet corners. Be my Home Base.

For now...

D

SUFFICIENT GRACE

My grace is sufficient for you...

--2 Corinthians 12:9

Do you need grace today? I'll ask another way: Do you need power? 

We tend to think of grace in terms of covering our inadequacies, a balm applied to our failures. These are true, but grace is and does much more.

It is by grace that we are not given what we deserve. It is by grace that we are given what we do not deserve.

As James puts it:

Every good and perfect gift comes from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow.  

--James 1:17

Q: How powerful is grace?
A: It is sufficient.

Wait, shouldn't this covering and empowering grace be overwhelmingly abundant? Shouldn't God cover a "3" on the need-grace scale with a "10" measure of grace? Shouldn't there be puddles of grace everywhere around after the grace shower rains down; so we can scoop a little extra up and store it away for use later?

Grace doesn't work like that. (Think manna from heaven; Exodus 16 - it's worth a read). New grace is given each day; actually moment by moment. Leftover grace, if there were such a thing, would spoil. And future grace, though promised, cannot be utilized. Today's grace... this moment's grace is sufficient for you. It is sufficient to completely cover, completely forgive, completely empower.

And how strong must we be? Well, our part is to rely on God's grace. To lean on and into his power. Our job is to embrace weakness and trust his strength. God says:

...my power is made perfect in weakness. 

--2 Corinthians 12:9

It would be easy to write of God's sufficient grace at certain times. This is not one of those times. It is a time when the preacher (or blogger, as the case may be) must hear and apply what he is writing. (Actually, every time is that time.)

God, I am weak, but you are strong. I need your sufficient grace.

For now...
D

GIVE YOURSELF

For God loves a cheerful giver.

-- 2 Corinthians 9:7

We all know someone with a particularly unique quality. They give. And for the rest of this post, let's not think money. Let's not think stuff. Because after all, more importantly than giving our stuff, is the sacrificial attitude and act of giving ourselves.

We all know someone like that. They give... themselves. They usually do it with a smile. Sometimes with a hug. Often anonymously. Always seeking no credit. Stuff, we can give while seeking notoriety. Ourselves, we cannot.

Love gives...

God loved... 

God gave. 

And we are most like Christ when we love, and give.

Paul was an incredible example of giving of one's self. He wrote: I am poured out like a drink offering... (From Philippians 2:17 and 2 Timothy 4:6).

There is a unique joy in giving. Through the act of giving we prove that nothing holds power over us. And the truest expression of Christian freedom is found in the giving of ourselves. This freedom, this joy is addictive. And God loves it. 

I think God smiles on the person who gives himself/herself away with a giggle.

God, help me to be a sacrifice. Help me to give. I will give myself.

For now...

D

GRACE & PEACE

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

- Philippians 1:2

We live in an instant messaging world. Many communications begin with "Hey..." or "What's up?" And that, if time is even afforded to spell words out rather than offering up obscure abbreviations. (This post's first sentence should have read: ... na IM world.) 

You and I receive emails and texts that seemingly begin halfway through a thought. And like you, I have learned to skim and pick and choose what catches my eye or stands out as important in what I read. 

It is easy to blow through sections of scripture in the same way. When we take time to read, we often jump to something previously highlighted or underlined in our old Bible. 

In my last post (non-recycled, which was far too long ago) I focused on two words: Servants and Saints. I want to do the same here. Paul opens up his letter to the Philippian believers by wishing them - though wishing is a word too weak -

Grace & Peace

It is a common greeting for Paul. But let's not allow familiarity to erase simple beauty; powerful beauty. Grace and Peace.

Grace and Peace share common heritage. Paul states this heritage explicitly: "...from God..." Grace and Peace ultimately find their source in Christ. The two are deeply related in effect and power. But Grace and Peace are not the same. Going back to Sunday School 101, we probably think of Grace and Mercy as being more closely related; kind of two sides of the same coin. (Willpower is keeping me on point and away the tangents calling out right now.)

I'll cut to the chase; and to the inkling of an idea that came to me when I read Paul's greeting. Both Grace and Peace find their origin in God. One - Grace - is a fact, a universal truth (given God is the universal creator). Grace is God's free gift of undeserved love and favor. It is fundamental, universal and pervasive. Grace is God's heart extended to us. Whether received or not, Grace is extended. And Grace governs vast areas of our lives and world that go unnoticed and unseen.

The other - Peace - comes as result of realizing Grace. Peace, also ultimately coming from God, is a state of being. Peace is the reality of experiencing Grace. Peace is the result of personal Grace.

Sometimes we experience Peace by accident. Grace kind of oozes into cracks and corners in our lives unaware, and ...a peaceful easy feeling results. (And it won't let you down...). But often Peace goes unexperienced; because although Grace rules, it is unrealized. Grace goes unrecognized. And therefore, Peace doesn't pervade.

Back to the post I recycled a couple days ago: Grace is good for today. Yesterday's Grace was for yesterday. And tomorrow's?... well, you're ahead of me. Though remembering past Grace can provide some Peace, we must draw on the Grace Christ offers today to fully experience Peace today. To stick with preacher alliteration:

Peace Prevails where Present Grace Permeates. (Dizzy yet?) 

God, because of your grace, I have peace. Increase my peace, as I more deeply experience your grace. 

For now...
D

THIS DAY

Behold, now is the day of salvation. 

- 2 Corinthians 6:2

Today - this day, however much remains of it - is an important day. It is the most important day; because it is the day, the time, we are given.

And in this day, however much remains of it, God wants to do something in our lives, and through our lives.

Spiritual procrastination is an infection. It is an ailment from which we all suffer at times, and to various degrees. Prolonged periods of the affliction dull us to the presence and purpose of God in our lives. (That last sentence may be worth a re-read.) I do not have a guilt-goal here, for you or me; but our misunderstanding of this day's importance (however much remains of it) affects not only us, but others.

Look carefully then how you walk (live), not as unwise but as wise, 

making the best use of the time, because the days are evil.

-- Ephesians 5:15-16. 

We have best intentions about what we will do, or begin, tomorrow. But tomorrows become todays, and before we know it, yesterdays.

Now is the day of salvation. 

It is always in the present that God works in our lives. We can reminisce about what he did in the yesterdays; and that is a good thing. But we cannot live there. As one preacher put it: We can no more operate today on the grace God gave for yesterday than we can drive our car today on the gas that we burned to get around yesterday. 

We also trust him with our tomorrows. And that is a good thing. But we cannot live there. To stay with the metaphor, our grace tank is only large enough to hold what is required for today.

God gives GRACE-GAS for this day, for now. 

Today - however much remains of it - matters. It is the NOW in which God is at work in us and around us. Jesus said to Zacchaeus, "Today salvation has come to this house," (Luke 19:9). Why? How? Because Jesus had come to the house. And that moment was the moment; the Now is the day of salvation moment. 

Jesus has come to our house. And because he is present, this day - however much remains of it - matters. 

God, help me to make the most of the time.

For now...

D

SERVANTS & SAINTS

Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus, to all the saints in Christ Jesus...

- Philippians 1:1

I began reading through Philippians this morning. Why? Paul's letter to the Philippians is known as The letter of joy. In the midst of the storms of life, a reminder of joy sounds good to me. 

I didn't get far into my reading when something leapt out; and frankly, it wasn't what I was looking for. 

Paul opens the letter with a fairly normal greeting. In his hello, two words jumped out immediately:

SERVANTS & SAINTS

Paul was an uber-apostle. His writings and influence helped shape the early church and the (our) faith throughout the centuries. His life was a picture of the miraculous and gut-it-out faithfulness. His ears heard the audible voice of Jesus and the grating chorus of detractors. Paul lived for his (our) faith. Paul died for his (our) faith. Paul was a saint. (I know this because his first name is Saint, as in Saint Paul.) 

It's interesting to me that Paul didn't begin his letter: "Paul and Timothy, saints of Christ Jesus, to all the servants..." Nope, the opposite. Paul calls himself (and Timothy) servants, and the everyday people, the holding-on-by-a-fingernail believers, he addresses as saints. 

And that's it for this post. You and I are saints. You and I are servants. I propose that the more Saintly we become, the more Servantly we are. Or maybe, the more Servantly we are (in action), the more Saintly we become. Or... maybe it's both. Yea, I think that's it. 

You and I are SAINTS...

Believe and hold on to it. It's something Christ did for us. 

You and I are SERVANTS:

Live it and do it. It's something Christ does through us. 

God, the only way for me to understand I am a saint is to live as a servant. And the power to truly serve comes from understanding you have made me a saint. 

For now...

D

RENEWED NORMAL

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared...

- Luke 24:1

Jesus is dead. They saw him die. They saw him buried. There is nothing they can do about it.

They have accepted this New Normal; one with a sky a little less bright, smiles a little less broad, hope a little less real. Jesus is dead.

All they can do now is memorialize the past. Go to it's grave and place flowers. Go to Jesus' body and honor who and what he was with burial spices and oils.

This is their New Normal.

Something to think about with New Normals however...

Though moments can feel like eons, often New Normals are only transitions. 

I don't know what happened inside that cave tomb. (I hope to watch the video someday.) What I do know is it was not Normal. Death does not give up his prey. Grave doesn't loosen his grip. 

Normal is: dead saviors stay dead. 

Normal is: isolation in windowless rooms. 

Normal is: fear so real it tastes of metal.  

Normal is: the silence of Saturday carries on, drowning out the melodies of hope and joy. 

Resurrection is not normal. But Jesus was not into normal. (Jesus is not into normal.) 

Saturday's silence was shattered in the way a black night fails in the presence of continual lightning; finally giving way to a cloudless sunrise. A stone was ejected to reveal a grave unoccupied. On a slab, neatly folded burial clothes: "I won't be needing these." 

Jesus begins showing up in strange places. Near his former tomb he meets two women who planned to honor his dead body. And joy is resurrected. He suddenly pops up in a stagnant room filled with fearful former followers. And hope is resurrected. He prepares breakfast on the shore for fishless fishermen, who at his direction came to the sudden realization that they might need bigger boats and stronger nets. Wonder and awe are resurrected.  

In each case, their normal is no longer. It has been renewed. Resurrection Renews Normal. And normal can never be normal again. This resurrected Renewed Normal pervades everything. Every New Normal we face finds its context within the power and perspective of resurrection. 

The storm will pass. 

The pain will end.

The isolation will be broken. 

Now matter how normal each may seem.

Because Jesus changes everything. 

And even normal can never be normal again. 

Jesus has Renewed Normal. 

He is Risen...

(And all the angels shouted...) He is Risen Indeed!

For now...

D

NEW NORMAL... SILENT SATURDAY

A New Normal...

We have heard the words repeatedly the past couple weeks (it seems like months!). We hear them spoken in press briefings. We see them illustrated in television commercials. We read them in numerous memes on social media.

A New Normal...

At times the words inspire me. At others, for some reason, they ring with melancholy. I have some thoughts about Normal vs New Normal that I'll get to in upcoming posts. Today and tomorrow however, I want to take it back a couple thousand years and change. So for today, let's think about the New Normal of a Silent Saturday.

We call it Holy Week. For the band that followed Jesus into the city gates, in what is now known as The Triumphal Entry, the week didn't seem so holy; especially come Saturday.

It was Silent Saturday.  

The adoring crowds? Long gone. The bewildered Temple marketeers? Business as usual. The blood-thirsty self-serving religious elite? High-fiving their victory. Heaven? silent. The would-be savior Jesus? Ingloriously nailed to a cross and now buried. And his piece-meal group of followers? Locked in windowless isolation. Fearful. Hopeless. Questioning. Abandoned.

This was their New Normal.

Their normal had been completely enveloped and invested in a living prophet; a water-walking, storm-calming, sight-restoring, words-of-life-speaking, counter-cultural, emerging king. Really, that normal was actually fairly new in itself. For most, their prior normal had been a mosaic of condemnation, hopelessness, directionless wondering, and falling short. But at Jesus' touch, normal had changed.

But that was then - as recently as a day ago. New Normal is fear. New Normal is hopelessness and heartbreak. New Normal is isolation - as much internal as external. New Normal is abandonment.

Something to think about with New Normals however...

Though moments can feel like eons, 

often New Normals are only transitions. 

Saturday's silence is only Saturday's New Normal... My mind wants to run on a thousand tangents of application; especially in our current social-distancing, self-isolating, mask-wearing situation. But I'll allow your applications to be your own (and mine, mine). 

This is what I know...

A resurrected New Normal is coming. 

Silent Saturdays give way to the sunrise of Sunday. And in that sunrise, there is new life. 

God, I'm not satisfied with my normal of silence and isolation. But I trust you are creating a resurrected New Normal... that in reality, is anything but normal!

For now...

D

STORMS (pt1) BEAM ME UP, SCOTTY

I can do all things... 
- (part of) Philippians 4:13

Star Trek ran for 79 episodes. Not once did a character say, "Beam me up, Scotty." Nor did Humphrey Bogart's Rick ever say, "Play it again, Sam," in Casablanca. Both are commonly attributed to the originals. Neither is there.

Nowhere in scripture is it written that God will never give you (or allow) more that you can handle. We hear it all the time. And it is as cliche as Beam me up Scotty.

The fact is God will again and again allow us more than we can handle. (Stay with me, it get's worse... then better!)

Paul wrote of his struggles: For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself (2 Corinthians 1:8). David writes much the same: I am feeble and utterly crushed; I groan in anguish of heart (Psalm 38:8).

Ultimately, 11 of the 12 disciples were martyred for their faith. The twelfth, John, was boiled alive in oil (and lived), and then exiled - where by the way, he had the incredible Revelation of Christ and wrote the letter of the same name.

I often face circumstances, burdens and pain beyond what I can bear. Please re-read the very last part of that statement: ...beyond what I can bear. 

There are two lies born out of the statement, God will not give you (or allow) more than you can handle. The first is that YOU can handle it. You. By yourself. You can and must be strong. 

The truth is, eventually you can't. There must be WE. The life of faith cannot be lived in isolation. Paul writes that we are to, bear one another's burdens (Galatians 6:2). When we cannot lift another's burdens, we must lift the person who carries the burden. Christianity - and life as a whole - is to be lived in community; not in isolation. 

The second lie is much like the first. It centers in the bearing of burdens. We are not human pack-mules, destined to trudge through life weighed down. That is not the joy inexpressible and full of glory Peter writes of (1 Peter 1:8); or the fullness of joy of which Jesus speaks (John 15:11). 

As a matter of fact it was Jesus who said:

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, 

and I will give you rest... you will find rest for your souls. 

For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. 

-- Matthew 11:28-30

(I told you it would get better!) 

I've often heard well-intentioned people say, "That's just my cross to bear," in speaking of a struggle or burden. But crosses are not for carrying. They are for dying. And when we are daily, crucified with Christ, as Paul wrote, we are also daily resurrected with him. It is only the pains, the struggles, the burdens, and the sin that remain nailed to the cross. 

So... can I can do all things... Well, yes, but...
When we read Paul's words in context we understand he is speaking about the power of relying completely on Christ in faith. Even more specifically, he is speaking to the power and perspective that is birthed out of contentedness. This power is not necessarily to stop the storms of life, or to dance on top of the waves singing a happy tune. 

Sometimes the power is to grab an oar and pull hard... to make one more stroke against the wind and waves. Yes, I believe Jesus can, and sometimes does stand up in the boat and calm the torrent with a word. But the callouses on my hands tell me he usually teaches me in a different way. And who knows, when my head is down and I am faithfully rowing with my last drops of strength, what greater waves or storms pass me by without my ever knowing?

Will God give or allow us to face more than we can handle? Maybe it's splitting hairs... but I'm going to say yes - alone, isolated, and in my own strength? Yes. But when I am driven to rely on the community of others, and to the feet of Jesus, NO. There is no valley too deep. There is no mountain too high. There is no storm too great.

God, because you are with me I can walk through any valley, I am ready for the storm. 

For now...

D