Toddlers and Fire

Last night, I built a fire in our fireplace. My two oldest girls were outside playing with the neighbor kids, so I enlisted the help of my 20-month old, Reagan. The first step was to retrieve the firewood from the garage. I had only a small pile of firewood left and I would rather burn it than move it later this week. Reagan came with me to the garage. I handed her one small chunk of a 2x4. I carried all the rest of the wood upstairs, approximately 20 small-ish pieces.

When we got upstairs to the fireplace, I had Reagan crumple up a piece of paper, a job she was well-suited for. I then told her to put some kindling on the paper. She piled it all on. I even had her get a match out of the box, which I lit. Once the match was lit, I held her hand with the match and together we lit the paper and the kindling on fire.

Ta-da! Fire started.

When I think about it, Reagan didn't really do much of anything to help. She carried one measly log up the stairs, and even that was a job I directed her to do. I had to hold the door for her with my arms full of firewood, I had to put her crumpled paper in the right place, I had to re-stack the kindling, I had to light the match and direct her hand to light the fire. Basically, she did nothing and I did everything.

So why did I include Reagan in the fire-making process? Certainly it was not because of her highly valuable contributions. No, the reason that I included her was because I wanted to. I am her daddy and I want to have relationship with her. At no point in the 20 months of her life have I really needed her, but I always want her.

In Psalm 50, God says "For every beast of the forest is mine, the cattle on a thousand hills. I know all the birds of the hills, and all that moves in the field is mine. If I were hungry, I would not tell you, for the world and its fullness are mine."

Does that sound like a God who is in need of our contribution or help?

If I was to be honest, I often feel like my contributions to God's kingdom are pretty stinkin' important. I give money. I give time. I use my talents and gifts in service of the kingdom. And...God doesn't need any of it. He is sufficient in himself and has no need. But, God has graciously invited me to participate with him in his activity in the world. Much like a little kid going to work with his daddy, I am in way over my head. God does the work, but I get to tag along and share in his joy.

I am not needed by God, but I am wanted. That is both humbling and freeing.

Kids Who Love Sacraments

One time when Mackenzie and Delaney were eating a lunch of PBJ's, Mackenzie (who was 4 at the time) said, "Here, Delaney, eat this. And when you do, remember me."

One time we found Delaney serving communion to her stuffed animals.

Recently, my wife overheard Mackenzie preaching a pretty theologically-loaded sermon to the next door neighbor kids. For a 6-year old, it was pretty good stuff: incarnation, substitutionary atonement, resurrection, then it concluded with the line, "and that's why Jesus can turn back into a baby any time he wants to!"

I'm a pastor. I want to model good and Godly character for my kids. I want to set them an example to follow. I am far from perfect, but that is my desire. My kids' apparent appreciation for the sacraments doesn't necessarily correlate with character, but sometimes I forget how much my kids are actually watching...

I Am Dying

It's true. It's unavoidable. I have been diagnosed with a condition that is fatal. I don't know exactly how many days or hours I have left, but the prognosis is ultimately bleak. It doesn't matter how many vitamins I take or how much I jog or how much sleep I get or many green vegetables I eat or how good my health care is, the simple fact remains: I am going to die.

You are dying too. You may or may not realize it, but by the time you are done reading this, you will be 5 or 10 minutes closer to the end of your life. I know this is bleak, but I figured that you would want to know the truth.

Of course, by now you realize that I am not speaking of some specific disease that I have - there's no cancer or HIV or MS - but rather that I am highlighting the fact that the mortality rate of humanity is 100%. We don't like to think about it because it is uncomfortable. Many of us are young, still in good health, and live relatively peaceful and comfortable lives. If fact, in America, we are so relaxed and comfortable that it is killing us. Obesity is the biggest (no pun intended) health issue facing our country right now.

This evening, I spent some time in the hospital with a man who has been given no more than 2 days to live. He has been battling cancer for the last 3 years or so and took a turn for the worse over the weekend. I had lunch with him a few months ago, and he told me that his cancer actually served to awaken him to the reality that we all face, namely that we will all die. His heart was not sad or despairing; he has lived a full life and experienced many good things. He was not full of some "carpe diem" fluff; he was purposefully taking me out to lunch to share the wisdom that he has gleaned over the years with me. The cancer, rather than deflating his hope, served to propel him forward.

Christians believe that in the history of the world, there is only one person who ever successfully defeated death: Jesus Christ. The Bible makes the audacious claim that after the Romans crucified Jesus for claiming to be God, he came back to life 3 days later. In case you weren't aware, that doesn't happen. The Christian faith then goes on to claim that for those who put their faith in Christ, a similar resurrection awaits them at an appointed time in the future. The Bible claims that Jesus is the first of many more to come in the future.

For the Christian, death is sorrowful, but it is not the end of the story. One of the earliest Christian writers, St. Paul, when facing his impeding execution, wrote about his emotional conflict. He knew that he had much to do on this earth still for the cause of Christ, but he was also eager to depart this life to be with Jesus. After death comes rest (heaven), and after rest comes resurrection. Heaven is great, but it is not the end of the story. The book of Revelation claims that at the end of time, God will restore the earth and all of the cosmos to a perfect balance, a perfect order, a perfect shalom. The Christian faith holds incredible hope for this life, as well as for the life to come.

As I left the hospital, a flood of scriptures were flooding through my mind: Philippians 1:23, 1 Corinthians 15:26, 1 Corinthians 15:54-55, Hebrews 2:14-15, Colossians 2:13-14, Revelation 21 and 22. I got into my car, and I plugged in my iPod into my car stereo, which is set to auto-play. I was a little bit more than amazed when the following song came up on my iPod. I encourage you to listen to it and ponder these words of hope. For the believer in Jesus, there is a sense of longing and desire that lies beyond what this world has to offer.

There's a country that no one's found yet. Somehow I seem to know about it.
There's a melody that no one's sung yet. It's faint, but I can hear it echoing.
I've never been alone, but I've never felt at home. Isn't it strange that everyone feels this?

Try and name it, try to forget, there is something more that I desire but I cannot become yet.
Still I'm haunted, I feel the ache, there's a thousand joys that show me home but never let me stay.

I have sailed across the sea, I've seen the ocean floor, but I cannot become the tide and battle with the shore. I know there must be something more. I can feel the winds are rushing, I hear them in the trees, but I cannot rage through the sky and wrestle with the leaves. But I've heard that this won't always be....

Someday soon we shall put on the sun. Not the one we see, that's just a sketch of what's to come.
Earth and sky are coming to their end. We will wear the glory they had always hinted at.

I have sailed across the sea and seen the ocean floor, but I cannot become the tide and battle with the shore. I've always known there's something more. I can feel the winds are rushing, I hear them in the trees, but I cannot rage through the sky and wrestle with the leaves. But I know that it won't always be this way!

Forgiveness Means Absorbtion

You'll have to forgive me for the lack of original content, but this Redemption book by Mike Wilkerson (of Mars Hill Church in Seattle, my soon-to-be-new-home-church) is utterly incredible. The book is written as a theological and pastoral overview of Mars Hill's redemption ministries. The redemption groups are organized in a 2-part system: healing from abuse & freedom from addiction. All of the groups are taught and lived out under the framework of the Exodus story. I want to share with you tonight a snippet from the chapter on the Passover which speaks about forgiveness in a really helpful light.

A helpful way to think about forgiveness is absorption. Imagine you're in a traffic, and another driver swerves into your lane, cutting you off and forcing you to hit the brakes to keep from crashing into his bumper. What do you do? If you flip him off and slam on your horn (not for safety, mind you, but for payback), you offend everyone else around you. They have to tolerate your road rage on top of the usual stresses of commuting. Furthermore, maybe the guy who cut you off didn't mean anything personal by it - he just needed to move over quickly to make his exit. But you, in your swearing, definitely meant somehthing personal against him. You have refused to absorb the offense and in the process have compounded the sin.

Absorption, says [Robert] Cheong, "is at the heart of forgiveness, since it involves the ability to deal with the pain in a way this it will not be passed on to anyone else." or, as Tolstoy put it, to forgive is to "swallow" evil and prevent it from going further. On the cross, Jesus overcame evil with good: he didn't return evil for evil; he didn't pass on the evil by seeking revenge; he absorbed it (Rom. 12:21; 1 Pet. 2:23). The only way we can truly absorb evil - the only way we can forgive - is to "roll it over" to Jesus who deals with it for us in perfect love and justice. To do that is to show love for our enemy because our desire that he should know the love and forgiveness of Jesus is greater than our desire to see him punished.

I am really benefiting pastorally from this book. Perhaps you're someone who has been wounded by events in your past, or perhaps you're someone who is struggling with a life-dominating issue. I can't think of another resource that has been this valuable in a long time. You can get the book on Amazon.

Who Is The Story About?

The following is an excerpt from Mike Wilkerson's "Redemption," a book about helping people find healing and freedom from abuse or addiction. I am only in the introduction, but I am already incredibly challenged and inspired by the gospel-driven truth that I am reading. The following is an excerpt:

Here's what's surprising about making sense of your life in God's story: the story is not about you - it's about Him. He is both the author and the main character, and he has written you into his story to say something about him. Yet, if we are honest, we tend to script our lives with ourselves as the protagonist and God in some supporting (or possibly antagonistic) role.

Often, God is cast as a mere extra. At best, he adds to the background action; at worst, he's overlooked. Some have written God into the story as an absent father who pays no attention to the damage being done to his child. Some have made him out to be a therapist whose job it is to prop up their self-esteem. Some treat God as debtor, holding him responsible for their pain and believing they are owed a free pass for sins of pleasure and escape in trade for their undeserved suffering. Others live a life of despair in a world they believe is controlled by a heartless mastermind, pulling the strings of the universe with no compassion for people afflicted by evil. Some treat God as though he were the source of a better high or a better escape than their drug of choice.

...Rather than trying to write God into our stories, we would be wiser to sit patiently with our Father and let him tell us his. We would surely find ourselves in his story and learn that we are not defined by our hurts or our sins, as we may have believed. As he tells us his story, we must be willing to let go of the stories we've told to make sense of our lies. We must let his story rewrite ours and sweep us up into something much greater than ourselves.

"Redemption" by Mike Wilkerson is available from Amazon.

Video Blog, "What I Will Miss About Anchorage"

Extra Super Duper Awesomely Humble

My friend Christian has a license plate that reads "IMHMBL." Of course it's done tongue-in-cheek, but it makes me laugh every time that I see it because such a blatant declaration does not typically square with our idea of humility. Similarly, there's a verse in Numbers 12 that says "Now Moses was a very humble man, more humble than anyone else on the face of the earth." Seeing as Moses himself was most likely the author of this verse, it is almost laughable that he would have penned such a thing. How can someone be humble and be aware of it?

What does humility look like to you? What kind of descriptor words come to mind? Weak? Groveling? Unable to accept a compliment?

Humility is not a virtue in our society. Pride, self-reliance, and individualism are deeply woven into the fabric of America. On a daily basis, we witness famous people behave in a way that could not in a million years be described as humble. A 7-foot tall basketball player celebrates a slam dunk like he just cured cancer, yet all he did was hop a little. A reality TV star goes out in public and demands royal treatment despite the fact that they have done nothing meaningful for society. We as a society are prolific in the art self-congratulation.

Like every other human, I struggle with pride. Pride manifests differently in different people, but the fundamental definition is that we are obsessed with ourselves. The self-aggrandizing rapper is obsessed with his "awesomeness." The self-loathing emo-rocker is obsessed with his "terribleness." At the end of the day, both are obsessed with self. My pride is closer to the self-aggrandizing type than the self-loathing type, but the bottom line is that I struggle with pride.

I have been aware of my particular type of pride since I was in high school. I have spent years trying to squash that sense of superiority or entitlement. This has caused me to sometimes intentionally downplay certain gifts or talents that God gave me. I think that I am just starting to learn what real humility looks like. The Bible gives us a amazing framework on how we are to understand ourselves.

We see that Biblical humility involves a bit of tension. On the one hand, we humans were uniquely created in the image of God (Gen. 1) and crowned with glory and honor (Psalm 8). However, we also see that we are deeply fallen and flawed (Gen. 3), extremely limited in our scope and understanding (Job 38), and that our best attempts at righteousness are like filthy rags in God's eyes (Is. 64). While we are certainly not supposed to think more highly of ourselves than we should, I believe that it is possible to devalue the gifts and abilities that God has given us to the point where we become bad stewards. The problem is not with the gift or the ability, the problem comes when we think that we deserve the credit for the gift or the ability. It is God alone who gives gifts and abilities (1 Cor. 12), therefore it is God alone who should receive the glory and honor.

Unlike my friend with the license plate, I have not arrived at humility. I am quite sure that I will spend the rest of my earthly existence being stretched and grown in this area. I can say, however, that God is currently teaching me how to live out the gifts and abilities that He gave me for His glory and for other peoples' good. Ultimately, I want to not think about myself in the process at all. I want to be so focused on God's glory that my own accomplishments aren't really worth mentioning. I want to be so filled with genuine love for other people that I use my gifts to serve them without concern for their ability to repay me or compliment me. I want to understand that I am but a speck of dirt in comparison to God, but that I am a speck of dirt whom God has declared valuable in His eyes.