Disciplined Grace

I was just reading an article and picked up my guitar to try to sort my way through what I was reading. Sometimes using my hands to play an instrument or build something gives me time to try to wrap my head around the concepts I'm trying to understand.

This article was about spiritual formation, and becoming an apprentice of Christ rather than just becoming a part of another program. The discussion got into the idea of spiritual disciplines vs grace, and trying to sort out the difference between the two.

I've always had a hard time separating discipline and grace. When my disciplines are going well, I feel pretty good about myself. But then sooner or later I start to rely on my disciplines rather than on God himself, and I stumble. When they are not going so well on the other end of the cycle, I don't feel very good about myself and have a hard time understanding my place in the Kingdom. It's hard because I no less need God when I am disciplined, and yet it doesn't feel that way.

So if I'm saved by grace, I am saved. There is no arguing with that, but the article pointed out that I still have years of habitual lust, envy, pride, etc eating away at me. Those things are not good and are hindrances to me, but they are still there. Even though I already received that grace, the only way to kill the pride, envy, and other nasty stuff is through disciplines like quiet time, fasting, prayer. Those don't make me any more or less a Christian, they just put out the flames of self (to mix the metaphor.)

My hands hurt from practicing my new guitar. Since I received it as a gift, I've wanted to play more. Not only that, but I have wanted to play better. I asked for some advice from someone who plays better than I do, and have been practicing my scales several times a day for the last few days. So much so that my fingers are aching from the sudden surge in their use.

The guitar was a gift, and an expensive gift at that. Someone giving me such a gift inspired me to do something - to play better. To put in the practice time and sweat the scales until I can play better. That's the discipline, to do the work to grow in my skill. I suppose that I could sit and strum a few familiar chords, but for some reason I don't want to do that. Because of the gift that I now have, I want to use it to its full potential.

I think that there are two different ways you can go when you receive a large gift. One is to treat it as precious and let it inspire you to bigger and better things. The other way to go is to treat it as worthless because you paid nothing for it.

Just like grace. I didn't pay for it, I certainly didn't earn it. The gift of Christ and the Cross cost me nothing but was very expensive none the less. I've already received it, I don't need to do anything to get it. Now I guess the only question is, do I want to strum a few familiar chords, or use this gift to its full potential?

It's all about perspective

Sometimes I have a hard time thinking about the Old Testament. I read about King David and the great triumphs of his day, about his mighty military strength and all that. To read the Old Testament you get the impression that Israel was the center of the civilized world.

I have a hard time because then I remember learning in ancient world history that Israel, from a historical perspective, was a backwards little country that actually never amounted to much of anything. There are references to it in other ancient cultures, but usually they are about how they conquered the Hebrews or captured them. It's like Israel was the whipping boy for the rest of the world. Even in the Old Testament, ever tried to count how many times they were defeated in battle or captured or carried away as slaves?

The only notable exception was during the reign of David, but even then it seems that the rest of the known world seemed to be in something of a state of chaos and weakness. Even Israels greatest days seemed to come from the rest of the world's weakness. From a purely historical perspective, it seems that God's people were not people of great influence in the world, and the rest of the world barely took notice of them.

Maybe it is because I read it from an American perspective, and I can't imagine growing up in a country that is not a "superpower." Whatever the reason, that's a kind of discouraging perspective. Not only because reading the Old Testament we are cheering for the heroes we find there, but also because God's people were supposed to be a light to the entire world. How is it that the rest of the world could walk around in darkness without even noticing that light? Sometimes I have a hard time reading the psalms because I think of the larger perspective of the ancient world.

But then I forget that there is an even larger perspective to keep in mind, and for some reason this is the one that keeps slipping my mind. Psalm 49 is a great reminder of this. Verse 10, "For all can see that wise men die, the foolish and the senseless alike perish and leave their wealth to others. Their tombs will remain their houses forever, their dwellings for endless generations, though they had named lands after themselves."

Geographical boundaries and names of countries. What does it all really matter anyway? If one country was strong and another was weak, don't they both end up in the same place? Even if America is one of the greatest countries in the world, that only lasts for so long. And what ever became of the founders of this great country? Well, we read about them in history books, they get their likenesses all over our money. But that's about it.

There is always a larger perspective of eternity that has to be accounted for. Naming a land after yourself is one thing, naming a hospital or building after yourself leaves a legacy for a finite number of years. But then what?

With that larger perspective in mind, we can see what God was doing in a backwards little country called Israel. Their socioeconomic impact might have been small in their day, but look what has happened since then. Not only that, but what will continue to happen in our lives for eternity.

That's not right

Luke 6, Jesus is teaching on the Sabbath and there is a guy there with a shriveled hand. Everybody wants to know, what is Jesus going to do with this moral dilemma? On one hand, if he heals the man on the Sabbath day, then he is in violation of the law. But on the other hand, if he ignores the man and does not heal him, he is inconsiderate and uncaring. Everybody watches closely to see what will happen.
Jesus tells the man to stretch out his hand, and it is healed. Verse 11 - "But they were furious..."

It makes we wonder if I've ever been furious with what God has chosen to do. When have I wanted something a particular way and he chose to do something else, maybe something a little more unconventional. We have our neat little boundaries, our boxes in which we feel God belongs. He may contact this part of our lives but not this one, he is welcome here but not over there. God you can clean up this mess, but I'm going to continue wallowing in that mess over there, so please don't bother.

They were furious. Jesus crosses those lines, breaks out of those boundaries. Tell him how far he may go, and he will almost certainly go another step farther. Tell him to go away and leave you alone, you are asking for him to mess with you even more. If the grave was not a boundary that he was willing to stay within, how much more can we expect our own ideologies of what a God must or must not do to hold him?

It's unconventional, its not normal. There are certain set, sociological accepted ways of doing things, and he is not playing by the rules. It just isn't done this way! They were furious.

I wanted him to heal my disease, and instead he healed my soul.
I wanted him to heal my brokenness, and instead he brought me other broken people to help heal.
I wanted him to give me the desires of my heart, and instead he gave me only enough for today.
I wanted him to make me strong, and instead he made me weak.
I wanted him to make me wise, and instead he made me a fool.
I wanted the world, he gave me a few close friends.
I wanted to be free, he made me a slave to his own righteousness.

But they were furious...
It's unconventional, that's not how it is supposed to be, this is not the correct procedure. How many times have we been furious? I suppose it is all a matter of perspective (it usually is). He has a perspective on this life that we do not, and as such makes greater choices than we do. It's just that sometimes knowing that doesn't necessarily make it any easier to swallow.

Boasting

As I finished yesterday's post, I started feeling a little guilty. Partly it was because I'm being blessed in my life far beyond - far far beyond - what I deserve. I've heard Dave Ramsey on the radio a few times, and every time somebody asks him how he is doing, he has the same answer - "Better than I deserve." I might pick up that same answer except I don't want to just be a copy cat.

But its true, I am doing better than I deserve. Partly I felt a little guilty because here I am, with blessing after blessing just being poured into my lap, and what did I do to deserve any of it? I know, I know, that's the meaning of grace, but it is still hard to accept. If it is hard to accept a compliment you know you don't really deserve from a person, how much harder is it to accept blessing that you don't deserve from a God who knows it?

But that's only part of it. Mostly I felt a little guilty because I fear that people might read this post, and they aren't in the same place that I am today. They don't see the blessing, they don't feel the grace, and they will get upset and bitter to hear how somebody else has it so good, while they have it so terrible. I know I've been there, wondering why the blessing on someone else I didn't feel was really worthy, and why was I stuck in the same rut I'd been in for way too long. It didn't make sense, and I hat to think that I might put somebody else in that place.

Then I opened my Bible this morning to Psalm 34. "I will extol the Lord at all times; his praise will always be on my lips." Now right away when I read something like that, I have to ask myself if I could honestly make that statement. Of course the answer is no, but I wish I could say yes. My lips are at times full of grumbling, jealousy, bitterness, despair. It happens. I want very much to get to the place in life where I can say like the song says, "When the darkness closes in, still I will say - blessed be the name of the Lord." That's how I want to live my life, its just that when the darkness actually does close in, I forget.

Verse 2 - "My soul will boast in the Lord, let the afflicted hear and rejoice." whoa, that's a different perspective from what I've had. I assumed that if I was boasting about what God has done, it would send a hurting person into a tailspin of despair. I know that has been my attitude when I'm hurting. But here the idea is for the hurting person to hear what God has done and instead of despairing to rejoice. To say, "You're right, God is good. Even though I don't see it in my life today, I know that it is true and I know that he has something great in store for me." That's the whole point of boasting in the Lord. I guess the difference is what you are boasting about. If you boast about worldly things (ha ha, I got a new guitar) you only provoke envy. But if you boast about Godly things (Hey, look what God has done in my life) the you are provoking rejoicing.

Then verse 3 - "Glorify the Lord with me, let us exalt his name together." That's where this is supposed to end up. The praising person and the hurting person come to a place where they can praise God together.

This is the same Psalm that says, "The Righteous cry out and the Lord hears them, he delivers them from all their trouble. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

I guess the reality of the situation is that sometimes we are jumping for joy and praising God, and sometimes we are down in the valley and can't find our way - but we're still supposed to be praising God. Verse 19 - "A righteous man may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all."

5 Years

5 years. Working at Lighthouse is now officially the longest thing I've ever done. Longer than any school I've ever been to, longer than any job I've ever had. This is where I've spent the last 18.5% percent of my life. Go ahead and get out the calculator to figure out my age:)

So it might be a big deal for me, but there are far greater accomplishments. I mean really, Mike has been at this church for 8 years, and in ministry for more than 15. That seems like a far greater accomplishment then my little 5.

But I will say that it is nice to be appreciated, and it does feel good when somebody says nice job. Even though it is hard to accept a compliment. I just never know what to say, you know? "Thanks" sounds dumb. "Good, I'm glad you liked it" sounds arrogant. What are you supposed to say when somebody looks you in the eye and says, "I appreciate you?" For some reason, "Thanks, I appreciate that" just doesn't seem to sound right. I would rather say, "Thank you for noticing, thank you for appreciating, thank you for making a difference in my life by telling me that I made a difference in yours." But I don' t think that even cuts it.

But I digress.

Mike comes up on stage wearing a homemade headset microphone from a wire hanger and a dum-dum, wearing a T-shirt that looks suspiciously like one of my own, and carrying a guitar. I honestly didn't give a second thought to the guitar. I saw him coming down the hallway while playing the first song and thought, "OK, that's pretty funny. He's going to come up and do a little Jeff impersonation, that's a good one."

He comes up and says "I want to look like Jeff and play guitar like Jeff." I'm down on the floor enjoying him making a fool of himself:) But then he turns and asks me, "Hey, is this a nice guitar?"

I looked at the headstock and saw the name "Taylor." It wasn't until that moment that I realized that he was actually holding the very 714CE that I had been admiring at Guitar Center. Of course, I only played it and admired it as a very nice guitar, not something that I would EVER afford any time within the next 10 years.
Now it is sitting right here next to me, waiting for me to pick it up and play it. That's just crazy.

I mean seriously, at 5 years you are supposed to get a card and a gift certificate to Applebees. Maybe they send you away to a bed and breakfast for a night. But this? This is crazy. You don't just get your dream guitar as a surprise gift like that. That just doesn't happen.

This is actually quite humbling. To stand in front of the people and play the guitar that they put in my hands, well, that's really an honor. It's a responsibility too, to play it well and use it for the purpose it was given to me, to worship.

5 years ago I moved to Michigan, a 22 year old kid just out of college, with a guitar and nothing else. In the last 5 years he has given me a beautiful wife and a wonderful son, a mortgage and a couple of obnoxious dogs:)
And make that 2 guitars:)
If I may quote Chris Tomlin - how great is our God?!

The Wonderful World of Technology

I admit it, I like tech stuff. I like gadgets and toys and things that are supposed to make our lives easier but actually end up taking more of our time as diversions.

My new toy is one such diversion, an Ipaq pocket PC.

I was given a PalmIII a few years ago and I used it faithfully as my primary database. In fact, some of the registries I still have were created in that original palm pilot. However, that palm met an untimely demise in a freak Chuck E Cheese incident. -note to self, remove palm pilot from pants pocket before entering the tunnels at Chuck E Cheese.

PalmIII #2 was purchased for roughly $20 on half.com. I already had the software and cradle, all I really needed was the hardware so I replaced it pretty cheaply. Life went on with my little buddy, and it was good. I think that one already had a few miles under its hood before I got it, because it just plain wore out. Soon enough, I had to reset it about 3 times a week, and many times it simply didn't turn on. I decided to do an autopsy. Inside I found an lcd screen, and a bunch of computer looking parts. Results - inconclusive.
It just so happens that I PalmIII screen is almost the exact same size as a wallet sized picture, so this one is now holding a picture of my son in my office.

PalmIII the third was a gift from the same person who gave me PalmIII the first. By now I had 3 cradles and 2 Palm keyboards, plus about 4 copies of the Palm software floating around.

Sadly, the connection wore out and it would no longer sync with my computer or connect to my keyboards. It was time to move on.

Rather than go back to half.com and spend another $20 on my existing system, I decided to take a small step forward.
Ok, maybe it is more like a giant leap forward.

Now I'm surfing the internet, reading email, managing spreadsheets and word documents, streaming video from my desktop to my handheld, and controlling every single piece of electronic equipment in my home - all with my handy little Ipaq with integrated Wi-fi and Bluetooth. Oh yeah, life is good:) You know it is a huge victory when you bring home the new (rather large) purchase, and your wife picks it up, discovers Tetris and says, "You should have bought one of these a long time ago." YES!!!

4th of July from my son's perspective

My poor kid.

All we wanted to do was give him a good time, honestly. We didn't even care about the fireworks, we could have gone home and spent a quiet evening as a family, but we wanted Aiden to have fun and show him something new. So we loaded up into the minivan and hunted for a parking spot downtown.

At this point, it is already well past the child's bedtime, but rather than let him go to sleep, his awful parents make him get in the stroller in the rain and walk several blocks to the waterfront. We had heard that the fireworks were going to be at 9:45, so we got down there about 9:20 or so. Upon arriving, we see the sign that says Fireworks - 10:15.

Ok, so we've got a little time to kill. By 10:00, Aiden is cranky and tired and just plain done and wants to go home. He can't figure out why his parents won't let him go to sleep and instead made him come out here and stand in the rain in this huge crowd of people. He lets everyone around him know that he is tired and ready to go home by screaming his little head off. We buy him a glow stick to try to buy ourselves another 15 minutes of happiness until the fireworks begin.

At 10:15 the wretched fountain - excuse me, I mean the musical fountain - starts playing. You know, I think I'm going to call it the wretched fountain from now on. I really, really can't stand that thing. Instead of fireworks, we are now subjected to another half hour of a nonsensical and uninteresting fountain splashing around to a soundtrack that sounds like an Air Force choir or something. I mean seriously, when is the last time you were cruising around and thought, I really want to put the top down and crank up my patriotic choir CD? 25 minutes of the musical fountain is 24.5 minutes too many. I spent most of the time thinking about registering a domain name like thelamefountain.com and posting a message board for people to share what they really think of this silly thing, maybe even lobby for the city to include some music that is not old enough to be public domain:)

Aiden is tired and now incredibly bored and falling asleep, not to mention quite wet because his awful parents didn't bring a jacket with a hood for him to wear in the rain. I keep telling him, "I promise buddy, this is not what we brought you down here for. Something really cool will be coming after this fountain is done."

It is now almost 11:00, Aiden is way past tired, and the first of the fireworks goes off. The initial boom of the flare leaving the ground sends him almost jumping out of my arms. He watches the white light go up into the sky and then explode. He screams in absolute terror and grabs on to my neck and squeezes as hard as he can. With each boom in the sky he screams a little louder, he is completely panicked and beyond consoling. We try to cover his ears so the sound isn't so loud and he can at least watch the pretty colors in the sky.

Nope. Nothing doing. Every time he looks at one of the fireworks in the sky he shrieks and grabs on a little tighter. So, we try to make our way out of the crowd and give him a minute to calm down and get used to the idea of what is going on. That doesn't work either.

All he knows is that instead of being home, safe and warm and dry in his bed, his mean old mom and dad made him come out in the rain, watch this inane fountain bore a crowd to tears, stay up way past cranky, and now there were all these loud explosions in the sky. What a great idea this was.

We had good intentions, really. Fireworks are supposed to be fun, and if he could have gotten past the noise and the initial shock of it, he may have enjoyed it. As it was, we loaded him into his car seat and he very quickly drifted off to sleep. I only hope our little night of fun didn't scar him too badly:)