Mending Influence

I can’t say that doing yard work is my sweet spot in life, but I must admit that it’s pretty fun when my kids get enthused about helping daddy out. It’s pretty entertaining really, cute even — especially with the 2-ft shovel I purchased just to be sure everybody had a tool their size. Good times for sure…that is, until it’s time to clean up and one of the kids picks up a garden tool bigger than themselves! Whether the rake, hoe, or full-size shovel, all those warm fuzzies turn into anxieties about what (or who!) might get whacked and thwacked unintentionally. Though hopeful of being helpful, my kids’ efforts can turn destructive when they’re oblivious to their radius of reach and blind to their sphere of impact. Thankfully, like all of us, my kids will eventually outgrow that spatial unawareness to a relatively safe degree.

But it makes me wonder: Is there a spiritual unawareness that we all need to outgrow?

Are there blindspots in our spiritual radius of reach that make others anxious about what or who might get whacked and thwacked around us?


In Luke 6:39-42, Jesus asks some pointed questions that should make us pause to consider whether we have blindspots in our lives. The urgency of recognizing our own blindspots is highlighted by the reality that there is a mending (Gr. kataritzo) that occurs whether we want it to or not. Over the previous two posts, we’ve begun a journey of exploring what all needs mending, restoring, proper adjustment, and exact fitting in our lives. In Luke 6:40, Jesus identifies a mending that happens almost as a rule of nature:

The student is not above the teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like their teacher.

Luke 6:40, NIV

Simple enough, right? The student-teacher relationship is a relationship of influence. As the teacher’s influence is exerted, the student eventually becomes properly adjusted and exactly fitted to the mold of the teacher. Students are mended to their teachers, so to speak. If Luke 6:40 was a stand-alone verse that showed up in the book of Proverbs, we’d just think of it as a succinctly phrased truism. But, this statement of truth isn’t an isolated proverb. It has context, and that it’s tucked away in a parable that Jesus tells about those who attempt to lead the blind even though they themselves can’t see a lick:

39 He also told them this parable: “Can the blind lead the blind? Will they not both fall into a pit? 40 The student is not above the teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like their teacher.

41 “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? 42 How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.

Luke 6:39-42, NIV

Do we see what Jesus sees? Go ahead, read it again and ask yourself, What is Jesus getting at here?


I’m sure there are a lot of ways to apply this teaching, but as I’ve been reading and re-reading this passage over the last few weeks, here are my big takeaways:

Takeaway #1 — In our relationships, we all have influence. We all have the capacity to lead others around us. Leading others is a given in Jesus’ parable. It’s not just a possibility, it’s the reality. It’s such a fact of life that even when we’re blind and unfit to lead others, i.e. when our influence isn’t all that welcome or productive, we have an impact on those in our relational spheres. In terms of Christian community, that means we all have the potential to disciple one another…for better or for worse.

Takeaway #2 — If we all have the potential to disciple others in our spheres, that means we have the potential to make others become like us. Therefore, we must be careful that we don’t lead/influence/disciple from blindness. Remember, as Jesus said, students aren’t above their teachers. Instead they become mended to, reflectors of the teacher’s example. There are times when we conclude that others around us are blind or that they need to be redirected. No problem with that, but when we step into the role of teacher/influencer in someone else’s life by attempting to actually initiate that redirection, when we take a hands-on approach to that friend’s or family member’s correction, we may be doing more harm than good if we’re approaching that situation while plagued with our own blindness and need for redirection. For one thing, they won’t rise above the example we ourselves set. They’ll only be led to more blindness. Furthermore, like a child toting a shovel in my two-car garage is blind to their spatial reach, a blind influencers’ desire to help may actually result in hurt.

And in that case, the real need is for our blindspot-ridden influence to be mended and properly adjusted.

Takeaway #3 — The rest of Jesus’ parable spells out a prescription for mending our influence:  have the good sense and the heart humility to remove planks from our own eyes. I’ll admit that the word pictures Jesus draws up here are pretty hilarious. But don’t let the humor of it distract you from Jesus’ intent. Sure the comedy softens the blow for a poignant pill to swallow (oh man, I have a plank in my eye!), but the hyperbole of Jesus’ teaching actually underscores that, relatively speaking, our own plank-sized blindness needs to be dealt with long before seeking to lead others out of and through their own speck-sized issues. That’s why the apostle Paul exhorts the Christian community to engage discipling relationships and dynamics in others that need correction with a spirit of gentleness that comes from having considered and examined yourself (Gal. 6:1-4). It’s when we haven’t taken the time to examine our own hearts, motives, and lives that we approach those situations without gentleness and end up having a destructive impact, both on the one we hoped to help and even on ourselves.

So how’s your influence in others’ lives? If that’s a knot that needs some mending, join me in praying for heart humility. May the Lord grant us both eyes to see our planks and the courage to actually let God remove them so we can have a saving influence in others’ lives.

Mending Praise

When you hang around kids (including my own), it doesn’t take long to discover they have a particular ease about saying exactly what’s on their minds…for better or worse. It’s the reality that made Bill Cosby’s show “Kids Say the Darnedest Things” such a hit in the 90s. It’s also one of the things that makes going out in public with our kids a high risk, high reward venture at times. In the worst cases, most parents can remember a few face-palm moments and subsequent efforts to explain away what our kids have said to unknowingly offend or embarrass someone nearby. But in the best case scenarios, which thankfully outweigh the awkward ones, a child’s spontaneous expressions of affirmation and appreciation can produce warm-fuzzies like nothing else can.


Jesus appreciated this quality of childlike communication, and I think that’s why, as He neared the passion week, He seemed to crave the company of children more and more. When asked about greatness, Jesus brings a child front and center and flips our natural framework of selfish ambition upside down (Mt. 18:1-4). Later Jesus makes sure kids have full access to Himself and adamantly instructs His disciples to “let the little children come to Me” (Mt. 19:13-15). He wanted children nearby. He wanted to connect personally with them. Not only for what they could receive from Him, but I believe there was something that He received from them that was hard to come by as His earthly ministry drew to a close. I think there was something healing and therapeutic for Jesus to surrounded by little ones whose hearts were unpretending.

He knew that kids have a knack for making their hearts heard without much prodding and without much fear of consequence.

Genuine interaction like that was a stark contrast to the subtle, subversive testing (cf. Mt. 19:3) of the religious leaders who would say one thing but really mean another.

And then comes a crucial sequence that brings things to a head. Jesus rides into Jerusalem in prophetic, kingly fashion and cleanses the temple to restore it as a house of prayer for all nations (Mt. 21:1-13). This public display of authority generates a collision of popular sentiment and Pharisaical hostility. At the same time, those who love Jesus can’t get enough of Him, and those opposed to Jesus can’t wait to arrest and kill Him. What happens next?


Leave it to the kids. Heated arguments and haggling over inflated temple trade rates are now replaced scenes of healing and and sounds of hosannas…childlike sounds of heavenly praise.

But when the chief priests and scribes saw the wonderful things that He did, and the children crying out in the temple and saying, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” they were indignant and said to Him, “Do You hear what these are saying?”

Matthew 21:15-16, NKJV

The religious leaders are aghast! At the sound of kids belting out glory to God, the chief priests conclude that this is one of those embarrassing moments, needing explanation for offended ears, but Jesus hears things differently.  He doesn’t hear offensive blasphemy.  He hears perfected praise.

And Jesus said to them, “Yes. Have you never read, ‘Out of the mouth of babes and nursing infants You have perfected praise’?”

Matthew 21:16, NKJV

Hold the phone. What did Jesus hear? He didn’t hear praise that was perfect, but praise that was perfected. Jesus heard praise that had been mended, restored, katarizo’d if you will (see last post). These young voices were expressing worship that was in extreme contrast to the broken chords of the chief priest’s feigned zeal for God’s glory.

tune my heart

Question: When Jesus puts His ear to my heart, what kind of sound does He hear? In other words, does my praise need to be mended?

The praise of the scribes & priests needed some serious rehabilitation. Their was a praise that merely pretended, a worship that was more concerned about how they’d be perceived by others than received by heaven. Their worship was more about what they could get from God and others than what they could give to God and others (e.g. “I just didn’t get anything from worship today.”) This kind of broken praise oozed from the religious leaders of Jesus’ day and persists even in our day. And whenever and wherever it shows up, we tend to become tone-deaf to our own need for heart tuning and get indignant when others’ praise is out of tune with our own. When we start walking the road of the chief priests, worship becomes more about my preferences and my expectations than about God’s purposes and God’s revelation. Taken to its logical end, we unconsciously cultivate an elitism and exclusivism that keeps our hearts and others’ from knowing who God is. Broken praise results in modern-day dens of thieves that rob the nations of knowing God and knowing salvation. Oh Lord! Please mend our broken praise!

But those children…

Their praise was perfected. Their praise had been kataritzo’d.  There’s something about a child’s praise that doesn’t go through an over-thought editing process and results in a genuineness and authenticity that cannot be matched.  When my son says things like “You’re the best daddy ever!” he means it.  Of course, he’s not factually correct in his assessment of my fatherly prowess. But he’s not wrong for saying so, thank you very much. :) Why? Because he’s expressing real appreciation in the best way he knows how. No one prodded him to coin those superlatives.  They spontaneously originated in a heart that was bursting with awe and needed a way to express itself.

In the temple courts that last week before the crucifixion? Jesus heard the very same. Unsolicited, unrestrained response to a vision of Jesus that was untainted by their own expectations of who Messiah ought to be. Perfected praise sees Jesus for who He really is and is humble enough to let God reveal Himself in ways we didn’t previously know or anticipate. The heart whose praise has been mended views Jesus as the Promised One and calls on Him to save out of a genuine sense of need for salvation and a healthy sense of self-distrust. Perfected praise has a big view of God and a small view of self (cf. Ex. 4:31, Lk. 5:8). When our praise is mended like this, we won’t be robbing God of His glory but becoming a community where real communion with God opens up for our own hearts and those God brings us in contact with. Healing and wholeness go hand in hand with perfected praise just like it did in that house of prayer that day. Oh that God would perfect our praise!

Mending Nets

Even though I can probably count the number of times I’ve gone fishing on two hands (ok, maybe three), somehow I grew up thinking I was a pretty good fisherman. Maybe that says less about my skill and more about how my dad encouraged me whenever we’d go out. Or maybe it’s because I had relatively low standards for success. You see, I equated success with casting my line into the water rather than getting it stuck in the shore brush behind me (or someone else’s hair behind me!) Sure, actually reeling in a fish was the climactic evidence of a job well done, but because a catch was so few and far between, the young fisherman in me found joy in the simple, repeated act of casting a good line. There was something satisfying about holding the line against the rod just so, timing the overhead release of the line, and then hearing its subsequent sounds — bzzz, splash, click, click, click. Good fishing for me was all about good casting.

And maybe that’s why I had missed this simple but significant detail in Scripture until just a few months ago.

16 And as He walked by the Sea of Galilee, He saw Simon and Andrew his brother casting a net into the sea; for they were fishermen. 17 Then Jesus said to them, “Follow Me, and I will make you become fishers of men.” 18 They immediately left their nets and followed Him.

19 When He had gone a little farther from there, He saw James the son of Zebedee, and John his brother, who also were in the boat mending their nets. 20 And immediately He called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired servants, and went after Him.

Mark 1:16-20, NKJV


Did you see it? As Jesus steps into His public ministry to proclaim the good news of God’s kingdom (Mk. 1:14-15), the first partners He recruits to this weighty mission are fishermen — men who are experienced in both casting nets and mending nets. Truth be told, I’ve never tried net fishing, but I’ve always assumed I understood these men of Galilee. There’s water, there’s waiting, there’s casting, there’s catching. It’s all in a good cast, a timely cast, etc.

But no, the first disciples knew that to effectively cast their nets, they must intentionally mend their nets.

As a follower of Jesus, I see myself as a fisher of men, commissioned to connect with others in a way that leads them into a saving relationship with Jesus for themselves. But while I have been diligent about casting “nets,” while I’ve spent time and energy to extending myself to others and leading churches to do the same, it recently dawned on me that I hadn’t been as diligent to ensure the wholeness of the nets I was casting. Instead of reinventing different ways or places or times to cast nets, maybe I ought to be still and carefully mend the nets around me. After all, an unmended net only leads to unfruitful fishing.


So what all could this point to in the experience of a disciple? If we’re to take this metaphor seriously, what all needs mending in our lives? Interestingly, the word translated as “mending” in Mark 1:19 comes from a verb that literally means “to properly, exactly fit; to adjust to be in good working order.” Apparently, the New Testament points to several other things besides literal fishing nets that need to be adjusted and restored — our praise to God (Mt. 21:16); the blind, judgmental, hypocritical disciple (Lk. 6:40); a divided church (1 Cor. 1:10; 2 Cor. 13:11); an erring brother or sister in Christ (Gal. 6:1); anyone who wants to do God’s will (Heb. 13:21), just to name a few!

Here’s the point: WE need mending! We need the restoring power of the gospel to be applied to our relationship with God, our love toward others, our growth in unity, and our effectiveness to do good works for the kingdom. I believe God has called us to more than just fruitless nights of fishing. And over the next few posts, I hope you’ll join me in exploring how we can actually let God mend our nets in order to be effective in casting our nets for others’ salvation.

Bless the Lord

Bless the Lord, O my soul; and all that is within me, bless His holy name! Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits:

Who forgives all your iniquities, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from destruction, who crowns you with lovingkindness and tender mercies, who satisfies your mouth with good things, so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

Psalm 103:1-5, NKJV

We’re just days away from putting 2018 in the history books. And although time itself will not stop, I would suggest that the turning of the year affords one of the best times for us to personally stop. The appeal of Psalm 46:10 to “Be still and know that I am God,” is appropriate everyday of the year, but there’s something about the end of the year that makes it especially impactful. As Psalm 103 reveals, one of the best ways we can bless God is to remember how He has blessed us. So before 2019 whisks us away into the future, let me suggest just a few questions that can help us reflect on the past in order to be still, to know God, and to bless God.


Growth isn’t something that’s easily perceived. Have you ever tried to watch your lawn grow? Though difficult to detect in real-time, however, we can look back and discern changes and differences more easily in our rear view mirror. Last January, I shared this Discipleship Self-Assessment with our church family. Though originally intended to be a tool to map out future growth, the assessment portion may help you understand past growth if you compare how you would have answered the questions at the beginning of the year to how you can answer them now. If this tool is a little too dry for you to really make use of, try reading through the the fruit of the Spirit passage in Galatians 5:22-23 and reflect on ways God is growing you in love, joy, peace, etc.


Take time to reflect on the nature of your conversations with God throughout the year. How has He worked in answer to prayer. How has He encouraged You through His Word this year? If you’re feeling like this set of questions doesn’t apply to you because you don’t think your prayer life or time in the Word has been ample, give yourself more time to process and ponder. You may find that God has answered prayers you’ve felt but not expressed or that there have been promises that are clearly precious now only with what you can see in retrospect.


The second of these questions may not appear to generate a pleasant train of though on the surface, but I encourage you to go there anyway. You may be surprised that what felt like a time of distance from God actually turned out to be a season in which you walked most closely to Him. The reality is that whether we feel like it or not, God is always true to His promise to never leave us nor forsake us (Heb. 13:5). Your willingness to reflect on God’s presence and apparent absence this year can actually fortify you to be even more aware of His nearness in all seasons of 2019, whether filled with daylight or darkness.

So go ahead. Be still and know that He is God. Bless His holy name and forget none of His benefits. Enter into the new year with confidence in and assurance so you can boldly say:

The Lord is my helper;
I will not fear.

Hebrews 13:6, NKJV

Exploring the Extras, pt. 3

I don’t remember his name, but I do recall what he looked like, sounded like, and how I felt around him. While on a whitewater rafting trip with our Pathfinder Club, a few of my classmates and I were grouped with the bearded, sun-tanned guide who looked like the oldest yet strongest one on the river that day. He wore a Crocodile-Dundee-esque hat that he didn’t allow anyone else to touch or try on. Whenever he gave instructions, my friends and I were quick to listen. He seemed to know a thing or two because he had seen a thing or two on that river. It’s one of my earliest memories of recognizing that years of experience yields depth of perspective.

By the time they’re mentioned around the story of Christ’s birth, Simeon and Anna had lots of life behind them and consequently could see things in front of them like no one else could. What about their experience can deepen our own this Christmas season?


Simeon was an exemplary citizen of Jerusalem. He was both “just and devout” (Lk. 2:25, NKJV), upright in outward living and holding to the highest values in heart . The term translated as “devout” is a compound word in Greek literally meaning "taking hold of what is good." In other words, he set his heart and hung his hopes on the best things. And the next few phrases describes just what those hopes centered on:

And behold, there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon, and this man was just and devout, waiting for the Consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him.

And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ.

Luke 2:25-26, NKJV

Simeon’s life destiny and sense of personal significance revolved solely around seeing the Savior of Israel and of his own heart. Seeing the Christ brought meaning and motivation to his life, and that hope was fulfilled when Mary & Joseph presented their miracle baby before God in the temple that day.

Anna the prophetess held a similar hope. Luke’s description of Anna seems to emphasize the enduring nature of her hope. Anna was a woman “of a great age” who apparently had lived as a widow for decades. Reading between the lines, we can imagine the sorrow she may have felt over relationships and dreams unfulfilled.

Yet in spite of these long-standing circumstances and the burden of her unplanned life of singleness, she wasn’t holed up and confined to depressing solitude by grief and loss.

…and this woman was a widow of about eighty-four years, who did not depart from the temple, but served God with fastings and prayers night and day.

Luke 2:37, NKJV

Did you notice how, where, and in whom Anna found personal meaning and significance? Though bereaved of her relationship with the husband of her youth, she found completeness in a daily, devoted relationship with God. In His temple, serving Him, giving things up for Him, praying earnestly to Him, all day, everyday.

Both Simeon and Anna and fixed their hearts on the One person in life who can satisfy the deepest longings of our hearts. Their stories should cause us stop a moment and assess upon what or whom our hearts’ hopes hang. In what is my life bound up?  In what or whom do I find greatest significance and satisfaction? I pray that the testimony of the psalmist and the devout inner life of Simeon and Anna would be our very own:

Whom have I in heaven but You?
    I desire You more than anything on earth.
My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak,
    but God remains the strength of my heart;
    He is mine forever.

Psalm 73:25-26, NLT


The heart priorities and hopes of both Simeon and Anna allowed them to see life differently than most worshipers in Jerusalem the day baby Jesus was brought before the Lord. Because they had a heart to believe, they had eyes to see.

They both recognized God’s presence when most others casually passed by.

They saw more than a baby and his humble parents. Simeon confessed that he saw God’s salvation (Lk. 2:30), and Anna “in that instant” saw reason to not only give thanks to the Lord but also inform everyone else around her that redemption was near (Lk. 2:38). They were fully aware of God’s activity and fully appreciative of God’s nearness. What their eyes saw moved them to lift their hearts in worship and their voices in witness.

Do we ever pass by unaware of God’s personal presence in our lives, or do we have eyes to see God when He is near in subtle yet saving ways?  I urge you to join me in praying for eyes that are fixed on Jesus, looking for Him and His work all around me, especially this Christmas when it’s all too easy to get caught up in the hustle & bustle of the season. Let’s not miss the miracle of God with us.

Exploring the Extras, pt. 2

She may be mentioned in only one chapter of the Bible, but she’s an extra in the Christmas story that can’t be forgotten. Her name means “God is my oath,” and her life reveals just how reliable and merciful God is. After all, she too gave birth to a miracle baby just a few months before her cousin Mary gave birth to Jesus. Elizabeth’s story paints a beautiful portrait of God’s love and faithfulness.


The brief introduction to both Zechariah and Elizabeth in Luke 1:5-7 highlights the elderly couple’s age, priestly lineage (on both sides of the family interestingly), upright living, and childlessness. As I pointed out (in the last post) Zechariah’s faithfulness irregardless of the presence or absence of blessings he deeply longed for, the same can be said of Elizabeth. Though barren til her old age, Elizabeth was a woman of faith and faithful living. That’s not because it was expected of her as a priest’s wife. When you read Luke 1 with your eye on Elizabeth, it’s easy to discern an admirable steadfastness of faith that appears stronger and more exemplary than her husband’s. Through many years of disappointment, Elizabeth carried on a life of obedience to and trust in God because she was confident that God was carrying her:

Even to your old age, I am He,
And even to gray hairs I will carry you!
I have made, and I will bear;
Even I will carry, and will deliver you.

Isaiah 46:4, NKJV


Nearly five months into her miraculous pregnancy, Elizabeth reflects on all that’s happening in her and expresses something deeply profound about the way God’s grace works:

“The Lord has done this for me,” she said. “In these days he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people.”

Luke 1:25, NIV

Do you hear what she’s saying? When mentally processing this divine intervention — a miracle baby who would go on before the Messiah in the spirit and power of Elijah (Luke 1:17) — she undoubtedly has a grasp of what this means for the hope of Israel and all of humanity. Yet in Luke 1:25, the awe-filled conclusion she whispers to no audience in particular is not about what the Lord has done for the nation or for the human race, but what the Lord has done for me.

Elizabeth is overwhelmed by the individual attention of God’s shame-taking, heartbreak-HEALING grace and favor.

I wonder how often we give ourselves the chance to think along the same lines Elizabeth does. Yes, we know that God so loved the world (Jn. 3:16), and that is surely nothing to sneeze at! The love of God that moved Him to give Himself through His Son is so expansive and immense that it reaches beyond this globe and includes the entire “cosmos” (the literal Greek word for “world” in Jn. 3:16). But while we know that God so loved the world, do we give ourselves time to remember that God loves me? To come to grips with the humbling reality that I’m not just a number in a sea of faces to God, that He knows me, loves me, and gives me personal, individual attention? When David was overcome with this very thought, he expressed his response in question form:

When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—
    the moon and the stars you set in place—
what are mere mortals that you should think about them,
    human beings that you should care for them?

Psalm 8:3-4, NLT

Some of us need to hear this more than we give ourselves permission to — that God actually loves lil’ ol’ me individually, that He has special grace and blessing to pour out not just upon all people but upon me personally. I think that’s why David actually prayed to hear that kind of love every morning (Ps. 143:8).  Maybe we fear being selfish in prayer, not wanting to just seek God’s love for ourselves. And while that may be humble and modest, it can come at the cost of not availing ourselves of how personal God is to us.  I think Elizabeth’s story gives us permission to pray for God to do things “for me.” And at the same time, it reminds us that we shouldn’t be surprised when the very things we pray for personally have saving impact in others’ lives beyond our own experience.


Though the Elizabeth’s introduction in Luke 1:5-7 highlights her barrenness, the end of her story in Luke’s narrative emphasizes her fullness. In 1:41 she’s “filled with the Holy Spirit.” And as she’s interacting with her now pregnant cousin Mary, it’s obvious that she’s filled with faith and belief. The fact that Elizabeth addresses Mary as "the mother of my Lord” (Lk. 1:45) indicates that she is one of the first to confess belief in Jesus not only as the Messiah for Israel but as her very own Lord.

And to top it all of, the once barren Elizabeth is now filled with joy, a joy that can’t be kept to herself, a joy that overflows to those around her.  She’s so full of joy that even the baby in her womb shares her joy (Lk. 1:44). And when that baby is born, Elizabeth’s neighbors and relatives share her joy (Lk. 1:58).

Have you experienced a season of life that has felt barren, dry, and empty? Elizabeth’s story reminds us that no matter how long of stretches have felt that way that doesn’t have to be the end of our story. God is the One who pours water on him who is thirsty and floods upon the dry ground (Isa. 44:3). He’s the One who turns our mourning into dancing (Ps. 30:11). Rest in the promise and power of God to fill your emptiness today. Lean upon the love of God that is willing to do these things not just for the world at large, but for you and me personally.

Exploring the Extras

It was strange but exciting all at the same time. My uncle had become a Hollywood actor. As a young child, I knew my uncle as the one who loved to serve orange-flavored Tang at parties, who sported new hair-dos that eventually trended with the rest of the uncles in the family. And then at one of our holiday gatherings in his Los Angeles area home, my uncle gathered us around a TV and showed us a couple scenes from a Seinfeld episode where he made an appearance…as an “extra.” For the first time, I wasn’t paying attention to the main actors and their comedy. I was fixated on those who didn’t have the spotlight or major lines. After all, as I learned, they’re important too!

As we enter into another Christmas season, what are you focused on? Maybe you already know the main actors and plot lines of the Christmas story, but how many of the “extras” are you familiar with? About 52 weeks ago, I posted some simple attitudes that make for a meaningful Christmas. This year, I invite you to join me in taking another look at the story of Christ’s birth in the gospel of Luke to pay close attention to the “extras.” As we do, I hope we’ll see ourselves in the story and end up fixing our hearts on the Savior who came once to dwell with us and who will come again so we can dwell with Him.

faithful still

Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth were faithful and devout Jews. He was a priest. She was “a descendant of Aaron” herself (Lk. 1:5). Known for their upright, blameless lives (v. 6), they were also known for their empty home, absent of any descendants to call their own though they were “well advanced in years” (v. 7). It doesn’t take much to read between the lines of Luke’s narrative. The aged couple had endured year after year of disappointment and unfulfilled desire. But this never stopped Zechariah from living for the Lord and serving His people. In the very next breath, Luke portrays Zechariah dutifully carrying out his priestly ministry:

So it was, that while he was serving as priest before God in the order of his division,…his lot fell to burn incense when he went into the temple of the Lord.

Luke 1:8-9, NKJV

Zechariah’s faithfulness in ministry wasn’t contingent upon the fruitfulness of his personal life.

Life didn’t have to be full of perks in order for him to walk with God or work for God. Ministry wasn’t a this-for-that deal for Zechariah. Even though his lifelong prayers for Elizabeth had seemingly been unanswered, he didn't stop praying to God and praying on behalf of others. Don’t run ahead too much in the story and point out the fact that he was unbelieving of the angelic message he received a few verses later. Take a moment just to admire Zechariah’s track record a bit in his life context. Through the years of disappointment, he was faithful still. Makes me wonder how many times he leaned on the words of Habakkuk and if I can do the same:

Though the fig tree does not bud
    and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
    and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
    and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
    I will be joyful in God my Savior.

Habakkuk 3:17-18, NIV

ASSURED of answers

It wasn’t just another day at the office for Zechariah. The angel Gabriel “who stands in the presence of God” was sent to this faithful priest to bear a message of hope for Zechariah’s family and for all of humanity. Not only would his wife Elizabeth bear a son, but he would eventually prepare the way for the long-awaited Messiah! The message is grand in scope, but the story of Zechariah’s trembling fear underlines it all. Sure there’s the natural fear that strikes when a routine duty is dramatically interrupted by a heavenly apparition! But Gabriel’s first words to Zechariah seem to highlight a fear that lay deeper in the heart of the soon-to-be-father.

Do not be afraid…for your prayer is heard…

Luke 1:13, NKJV

Did you notice the basis for the angel’s assurance? The reason Zechariah doesn’t need to be afraid? “Fear not” is one of the most oft repeated commands in Scripture, and most commonly the rationale that follows is the assurance that God is with us. (For starters, check out Gen. 26:24; Deut. 31:6; Isa. 41:10; 43:5; Jer. 42:11.) In other words, fear often originates from our unbelief that God is truly with us, and we don’t need to fear when we’re convinced of God’s loving presence.

But that wasn’t the assurance behind Gabriel’s instruction to not be afraid in Luke 1:13. Instead, Zechariah needed to be assured that his prayer was heard.

Zechariah’s fear originated from his unbelief not about whether God was with him but about whether God heard him.

I wonder how many of us have ever felt that fear. Sometimes that uncertainty has actually held me back from praying for particular things or people so I can avoid the hurt of feeling unheard. On the other hand, there are times when I’ve voiced other prayers while subconsciously telling myself not to get my hopes up! The expectation of being unheard may show up differently in your walk than mine, but if you’ve experienced it you know how deflating and debilitating it can be.

God’s messenger invited Zechariah to rise above that and to experience what David once testified of in the Psalms:

In the day when I cried out, You answered me,
And made me bold with strength in my soul.

Psalm 138:3, NKJV

And I believe God wants you and I to bear that same testimony, to find a new boldness grounded in the assurance that God both hears and answers the cries of our heart. This season, let’s pray those prayers we’ve held back. Let’s re-pray those prayers we once threw out like meaningless pennies into a fountain. Let’s accept the invitation to be unafraid, freed from the uncertainty about God’s attentiveness to our needs and hopes.

Light in the Darkness

The light shines in the darkness,

and the darkness can never extinguish it.

John 1:5, NLT

Over the last few weeks, my heart has been burdened by the violence that is sadly becoming a new normal in our world. First, it was the shocking news of a family friend’s wife who was senselessly shot while driving home from work two weeks ago in Florida. She is thankfully alive but has a very difficult road of recovery ahead. Then it was the national news story of the Pittsburgh shooting at the Tree of Life synagogue, actually taking the lives of eleven worshippers and wounding several others last Sabbath. The darkness of this world and of sin’s curse seems overwhelming at times, but I’m choosing to trust that the light of God’s presence and goodness can never be extinguished (Jn. 1:5). But how? How do followers of Jesus persist in making God’s light inextinguishable in the midst of growing darkness?


With the last days of human history in view, Jesus warned His disciples of many “signs” that would not only indicate the nearness of His coming but also the desperate need for His return (Mt. 24:1-8). It’s in this context that Jesus gave a made a simple prediction that describes our day with startling accuracy: “the love of many will grow cold” (Mt. 24:12). The violence that casts a dark shadow over our world and even over our houses of worship does not come as a surprise to our Lord. For that I am thankful. But more than that, I am thankful that Jesus could foresee even then that the darkness could not extinguish the light. Notice the glimmer of hope that arrests the downward spiral of end-time signs:

And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in all the world as a witness to all the nations, and then the end will come.

Matthew 24:14, NKJV

The darker the night, the brighter the light. Followers of Jesus don’t have to cower or clam up as these tensions mount. We are not to be silent by-standers who look at the tide of hurt and evil as if it cannot be stemmed. As deception, warfare, and disaster increase, the light of the gospel will be proclaimed “as a witness,” i.e. as a visible demonstration to all the world. In other words, the good news of who God is and how He saves will be preached not just in more religious rhetoric, but through lives that reveal God’s glory, a glory that can be “seen” and not just heard:

Arise, shine;
For your light has come!
And the glory of the Lord is risen upon you.
For behold, the darkness shall cover the earth,
And deep darkness the people;
But the Lord will arise over you,
And His glory will be seen upon you.

Isaiah 60:1-2, NKJV

Somehow in the midst of growing lovelessness, we can courageously live lives that reveal the enduring, persevering, never-giving-up love and glory of God.


Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

Romans 12:21, NKJV

As with most of today’s news, the reports of the Tree of Life shooting have been difficult to read. But two stories I came across from the tragedy have revealed God’s inextinguishable light and love, a love that will not be overcome by evil but overcomes evil with good.

Story 1 is of the hospital staff of the Allegheny General Hospital where the synagogue shooting suspect arrived via ambulance after suffering several gunshot wounds himself. Though still raging with anti-Semetic remarks, the hospital staff took care of him as they would any other patient in need of medical attention. Might sound like just another day on the job for this hospital staff, except that several of the suspect’s first caregivers were Jewish — his nurse the son of a rabbi and the hospital president who came to check on him a member of the Tree of Life synagogue.

Story 2 is of a well-loved family practice physician who was one of the eleven killed in the shooting. Dr. Rabinowitz was in a separate Bible study room when he heard the gunfire. The doctor immediately ran — not away from the scene but to the aid of the wounded. Rushing to the sanctuary to help, Rabinowitz ran into the line of fire.

Though fallen, Rabinowitz revealed a love that overcomes evil with good. Though received by a hardened heart, the hospital staff revealed a love that overcomes evil with good. Even in the midst of hatred and violence, you and I don’t have to be overcome by evil. Whether in the public sphere or in the home circle, wherever darkness seems to be mounting, let’s lean in and let our light shine. Let us persist in giving, sacrificing, loving. The darkness cannot extinguish the light of God’s glory revealed in the lives of His people. Let’s cling to the promise and courageously live it out each day:

…But the Lord will arise over you,
And His glory will be seen upon you.

Isaiah 60:2, NKJV

What Can I Render?

Have you ever known someone whose natural mode of operation was to serve and help? They’re the kind of people whose love language is acts of service. Without thought of reciprocation, they are quick to lend a hand, fill a need, and give of themselves for others’ benefit. If you have people like in your life, then you know how golden those friendships are. Now let me ask you this: Have you ever known a couple in which both individuals seek first to give and serve and help? A couple like that would be able to “speak” the same love language to each other and also to others alongside each other in powerful ways. In a recent conversation with one such dynamic duo, I was not only impressed by the amount of good they’re able to accomplish in their spheres of influence, but I was also taken by surprise to discover a unique difficulty they’re slowly learning to navigate.

Difficulty? Can a giving couple like that experience any problems? It’s not really something you’d typically classify as a relational “problem,” but I’ll do my best to explain. Because both in the relationship are quick to give help, they are both relatively slow to receive help. Over the years, they’ve individually cultivated habits of service and sacrifice, but now that they’re together, they’re having to cultivate the habit of being served and sacrificed for. “Will you just let me love you?” is the common question they’re each learning to say “yes” to. And then in the most gentlemanly manner, my friend shared this insight: “The best thing she can give me in that kind of situation is to receive my help.”

Sometimes the best we can give is a willingness to receive.

Giving to the greatest giver

I believe our God “speaks” all five love languages with infinite intensity and fluency, but I would venture to say that His acts of service declare His love most compellingly. In the upper room just hours before His arrest, trial, and crucifixion, Jesus looked around at His disciples and “loved them to the end” (Jn. 13:1). In what way? The narrative immediately follows by describing Jesus, the One who once sat on heaven’s throne, wrapping a servant’s towel around His waist to wash His disciples’ feet, even those of His eventual betrayer. He served and sacrificed, laid down not only His pride but ultimately His life. “By this we know love, because He laid down His life for us” (1 Jn. 3:16).

What could we possibly give to the great Giver? How could we possibly serve the suffering Servant? Of course, we can attempt to reciprocate, to give back, to offer our service. While those may be appropriate responses, I wonder if the psalmist can point us to what just might be the best response:

What shall I render to the Lord
For all His benefits toward me?
I will take up the cup of salvation,
And call upon the name of the Lord.

Psalm 116:12-13

When seriously inquiring about what he could give back to the Lord for all His benefits and blessings, the psalmist concludes that his best response is to take the cup of God’s salvation.

Could it be that the best we can give to the Lord is a willingness to receive His best for us?

David’s words resonate with Jesus’ words when He sheds light on what makes the Father’s heart beat with delight:

Do not fear, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.

Luke 12:32

According to Jesus, we can give great pleasure to the Father by letting Him give us the kingdom. It pains the heart of God to resist and refuse His gift of salvation and entrance into His kingdom, but it thrills His heart whenever we receive it. There “joy in heaven” and “in the presence of the angels” over repentant sinners (Lk. 15:7, 10) not just because of a goal accomplished or victory achieved but because God is pleased most when His giving is received by the least.

So let’s do it. Let’s give God the best gift we could possibly give today. May we daily, humbly, gratefully receive all the great Giver has given to us in Christ.

One Thing

Our weekend agenda was ambitious to say the least. Another trip out of state, air travel with three kids, destinations in three different cities in three days about 2-4hrs of drive time apart. In the end, I’m glad we pulled it off. I’m thankful for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunities it afforded to officiate a friend’s wedding, to re-connect with old friends who feel like family, and to celebrate Debbie’s and my grandfathers’ 98th birthdays (remember them from last year?) But I’ll be honest, I’m also glad we don’t make that kind of rhythm and pace the norm. Now that I’m finally catching up on sleep from that quick trip, I can say that I’m usually better off focusing on one thing at a time. Hats off to those multi-taskers and mothers who are champions of getting things done and keeping all the plates spinning so to speak. But I wonder if more of us would benefit from stepping back at times, letting less be more, and refreshing a vision for one thing that really matters…if there is such a thing?


David’s simple shepherd’s life eventually morphed into a seriously complex drama over time. From shepherd to king, from in-law to outlaw, from taking life to running for his life, David’s attention and efforts were often spread thin. But in his heart, there was one desire that trumped all others:

One thing I ask from the Lord,
    this only do I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
    all the days of my life,
to gaze on the beauty of the Lord
    and to seek him in his temple.

Psalm 27:4, NIV

Undoubtedly, David prayed for many things, but THE thing he desperately “desired of the LORD” (NKJV) was to simply dwell, abide, and remain in the presence of his God. Being with God, knowing Him personally and deeply was what matter most to him. For this king, it was keeping company with the King of Kings that generated in his life the “fullness of joy” and “pleasures forevermore” (Psalm 16:11, NKJV).

And this wasn’t just a unique quirk of David’s. Growing out of David’s love for the Lord, the temple services eventually organized not just around sacrifices but also songs and musicians. It was one of these musicians who routinely stood and sang in the presence of God that penned this confession:

Better is one day in your courts
    than a thousand elsewhere…

Psalm 84:10, NIV

The best life has to offer pales in comparison to being in God’s “courts,” dwelling in "the house of the LORD,” abiding in the presence of the living God. Life may consist of many good things, but the best thing, the one thing is being with God.


And this one thing isn’t just a preference. According to Jesus, it’s the one thing we need. While enjoying the hospitality of His good friends, Jesus slows down Martha who is dutifully preparing and hosting, but has somehow missed the “one thing.”

Now it happened as they went that He entered a certain village; and a certain woman named Martha welcomed Him into her house.  And she had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus’ feet and heard His word. But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Him and said, “Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me.”

And Jesus answered and said to her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her.”

Luke 10:38-42, NKJV

Mary had chosen to sit at the feet of Jesus, to learn from Him, to give undivided attention to Him and enjoy His presence. Martha, on the other hand, invested her greatest energies into making things ready for Jesus that she neglected the ultimate necessity of being with Jesus.

Apparently, this is not just one thing to desire. It’s the one thing we need.

And we can choose “that good part” every day, to approach life with an ambition not just to do things for God, but to live life with God — attentive to His presence, mind immersed in His Word, heart wide open to the promptings of His Spirit.


Do we live with one desire and one need in mind? This may require some rewiring of our habits and a transformation of our hearts, but I believe it’s what allows us to experience eternal life presently (cf. John 17:3) and prepares us for life with God throughout eternity. Consider how the apostle Paul takes this principle of “one thing” on the everyday level and scales it up to his eternal, heavenward ambition:

What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ and be found in him...I want to know Christ…

Philippians 3:8-10, NIV

And then just a few verses later…

But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead,  I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 3:13-14, NIV

Paul’s enthusiastic hold on the “blessed hope” of Jesus’ return someday (Titus 2:13) was daily fed by his supreme aim to know Jesus day by day. Could it be that the more we accept this one priority as our one necessity, the more we’re prepared for relationship with Christ throughout eternity? If that’s true, then pause for a moment and consider the sobering converse: The less our lives are fixated on the necessity of relationship with Christ, the less we’re prepared for eternity with Christ. What are the many things that pull and tug for our attention and affection? What are the many things we’re distracted by? Even the many good things? May the Lord lead us to a life of letting less be more and finding fullness of joy in the one thing that really matters.

A Great Mystery

As the Scriptures say, “A man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife, and the two are united into one.” This is a great mystery…

Ephesians 5:31-32, NLT

I think it’s safe to say that most of us enjoy a good wedding. Some are drawn to the rekindling of social connections, others to the anticipated menu for the day. For some, the main appeal is the fanfare, the flowers, or the music. Last weekend, my wife & I were blessed to participate in our friend’s big day. While we had the privilege of enjoying all those festive dynamics, what moved me most was the evidence of a genuine relationship built on self-giving love. No, it wasn’t just their sweet love story that got me teared up. It was a man and a woman willfully committing to live not for oneself but for the other. That’s a good wedding. Repeated day by day over a lifetime? Now that’s a good marriage and, according to Paul, a great mystery (Eph. 5:32).


Weddings aren’t good just because they make us feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The reality is that weddings are good because they are the closest thing on earth to revealing the heart of heaven. Just look to the story of the original Creation week. After God masterfully paints the canvas of our earthly home with life-giving words and works, He slows down and intentionally plans the climactic act of creation:

Then God said, “Let us make mankind in Our image, in Our likeness...” So God created mankind in His own image,  in the image of God He created them; male and female He created them.

Genesis 1:27-28, NIV

The Godhead wanted to etch Their very image within creation, something that would point not just to the physical appearance of God but to the fullness of who God really is. But how? Through what or whom? Humanity…not in singularity but in matrimony (and then in family, cf. v. 29). God originally designed marriage to be the most clear revelation of His heart. And what would that heart be? The beloved disciple who enjoyed close fellowship with the very Son of God said it simply: “God is love” (1 Jn. 4:8).

That’s the beauty of this great mystery. Some think the mystery is in how to make marriage work, but the apostle has his sights on something higher when he describes marriage as a mystery. Check out the entirety of Ephesians 5:31-32:

As the Scriptures say, “A man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife, and the two are united into one.”This is a great mystery, but it is an illustration of the way Christ and the church are one.

Marriage isn’t just about convenience or co-habitation. Marriage is a calling, a divinely-appointed institution that in its most complete form portrays in living color what others-centered, self-giving love truly looks and feels like. When we see a husband and wife give of themselves to make each other happy and whole, when we see sacrifice for and sensitivity to the other’s needs, we see but a dim reflection of something infinitely beautiful: God’s love for us. It’s a love that leaves what’s comfortable to sacrifices to become one with us. It’s a love that gives all and forsakes all, even to the point of death. That’s why weddings move us so. It’s not the pictures, the fancy clothes, or the toasts.

Weddings move us because they point to the One who made us. Marriage is an earthly token of heaven’s heart for us.

So go ahead. The next time you get to witness a wedding, be moved and swooned by the frills and festivities. But more than that, be in awe of the God who loves us and gives all for us in order to be one with us. The next time you get to spend time with a married couple or with your own spouse, lift up a prayer for the fulfillment of God’s dreams for that union. The world longs to see more of this great mystery.

All In

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.  2 Corinthians 5:17, NKJV

I'm not one to settle on favorites, but baptizing someone into Jesus Christ could very well be one of the most thrilling experiences in life.  You can argue with me about your mountaintops, cliff jumps, sky dives, or extreme sports.  But suspend judgment until you have a front row seat to someone's public confession of their entire surrender to Jesus.  Now that is literally awesome.  Whether in rivers, oceans, lakes, or built-in baptistries, it never gets old (especially if the built-in baptistry has its own heater!)  Last week, I had the privilege of baptizing two brothers in Christ, and while the act itself was amazing, what added to the rush and joy of it all was the journey that led up to it, especially for my friend Dave.  Though he shared his story only in broad, summary strokes, I heard two dynamics at work in Dave's life that have deeply inspired me.



I first met Dave at our church nearly two months after it launched a year and a half ago.  He was invited by Justin, a co-worker of Dave's and a new church-goer himself.  Justin was just six months into a series of Bible studies at the time, exploring faith in a God who really is love.  In a conversation at work, Justin overheard Dave's cynical perspective on life and love and encouraged him to consider a different reality, a biblical reality defined by a God who isn't selfish at heart but absolutely others-centered and self-giving.  It was enough to spark intrigue, and Dave showed up at our new church the next Sabbath...and the next, and the next.  Well, you get the picture.

In a matter of weeks, Dave went from skeptic to seeker to student of the Word.  The rest of the journey wasn't all roses, but it's a journey that has persisted and matured and continues to move in an upward, heavenward trajectory.  When Dave got up to share his testimony last week before being baptized, it only took a brief sentence,  "Justin invited me to church...," for me to be reminded of how one interaction can impact someone's eternity.  It may sound elementary, but I hope you read it with deep significance:

God uses people to reach people.

What is more, God uses ordinary people to reach people.  Justin wasn't a preaching evangelist or seasoned missionary.  He was Dave's co-worker.  Justin didn't have seminary training, didn't have long years of ministry experience, didn't have a thorough knowledge of Bible prophecy let alone the order of books in the Bible.  But what light he had, he was eager to share.  If God uses people to reach people, who will He use you and I to reach today?



When I met Dave a year and a half ago, he had just moved to the area trying to rebuild a life that he felt was falling apart.  We started studying the Bible together to seek answers to some of his deep questions.  After accepting the mind-blowing reality that God actually is our loving Creator  who has good intentions for us, the burning question on Dave's heart was:  What is God’s plan for me?  What’s my purpose?  Why would God bring me here?

I don't remember exactly what I said in response to Dave's questions, but I do remember listening intently with a smile.  Not trying to be condescending or cliché, I remember trying to assure him that he'd discover the answer to his questions as he continued to study and deepen a real relationship with God.  It sure didn't feel like a satisfactory answer at the time, but fast forward to last weekend, and I realize that maybe there was more wisdom in that response than I thought.  As he shared his testimony last week, he referenced that conversation about purpose and confessed:  "I’ve found my purpose.  It’s in living for God, and living for others, not myself."

I think we all naturally want to move toward a defined goal.  We tend to operate better when we understand our destination and also the route we're taking to get there.  It's in the uncertainty that we begin to feel uncomfortable.  It's when we aren't able to gauge progress that we feel useless, even hopeless.  In Jeremiah's day, God's people were faced with an uncertain future and fuzzy purpose, and God spoke profound hope to them and any of us in similar shoes:

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart."  Jeremiah 29:11-13, NIV

Have you ever looked closely at the progression of thought in this passage?  First, God assures us that HE knows the good plans He has for us (v. 11).  Since HE knows those plans for us, our natural response is to call to Him in prayer about those plans (v. 12).  In all our praying and asking about those plans, God says that the journey will eventually elevate into not just praying about plans but seeking the Plan-giver (v. 13).

The great assurance to an uncertain, purposeless people is that in all our seeking we will find God Himself.  Plans or no plans, our great find is relationship with God.

Dave wanted to know the why and how and what for of his life journey just like all of us.  But the satisfaction comes not so much in finding the answers to the why and how and what for.  The satisfaction comes in knowing the One who gives us the why, how, and what for.

And all this wrapped up in the experience of baptism.  It's not just the water that makes us new.  It's the surrender.  Now that's something to get excited about!  May we all experience the thrill of being made new.  Let's be the kind of people God can use to reach people.  Let's be hopeful in the God who doesn't just know the plans but who fills our lives with purpose when we know Him.

Thirsty Ground

Maybe you sang the song as a child too:  "Rain, rain, go away.  Come again another day."  Growing up in the relatively dry central valley of California where rain wasn't part of the norm, I remember thinking of rain as a nuisance.  Rain stopped play and redirected school recess to indoor activities that I really wasn't enthralled by.  Heads-up 7-up anyone?  Regardless of what farmers or firefighters might have said, in my limited perspective as a child, rain was an inconvenience.  A recent, painful experience in my backyard, however, reminded me that rain is so much more vital than I use to give it credit for.

Since moving into our new construction home a year and a half ago, one of the things on our to-do list that hasn't been checked off yet is landscaping our barren backyard.  It's amazing really what dirt can do when it's untouched for 18 months.  This summer we thought it wise to at least trim down the weeds that had begun to compete for sunlight with our neighbors' young aspen trees.  Just this month, after several streaks of rainy days, we got the bright idea of digging out what weeds we could, and even the kiddos got into the act.  (Little boys seems to be drawn to mud and dirt like mosquitos to light.)  Then two bright Sunday mornings ago, still feeling the momentum of our previous progress, I decided to get out there and clear another section of our yard...with one small problem:  we hadn't had any recent rain.

It only took me a few stomps with the shovel (and a re-aggravated back spasm!) to realize we weren't going to make any headway.  That compacted construction dirt was NOT the pliable mud we had worked with a few days before.

My sore back reminded me all through the week that rain makes all the difference.

Ample moisture turns what is rock hard into something redeemable.  Rain makes it possible to remove what shouldn’t be there so we can eventually plant what should be there.  How thirsty is your ground?

There's a beautiful promise in the Hebrew Scriptures that gives us hope when our lives feel dried up and rock hard:

For I will pour water on him who is thirsty,
And floods on the dry ground;
I will pour My Spirit on your descendants,
And My blessing on your offspring.  Isaiah 44:3

I believe the presence of the Holy Spirit, like a timely rain shower, turns the rock hard heart into something soft and pliable.  It's the Holy Spirit who makes it possible to remove what shouldn’t be there -- all that's unwanted and unholy, all that has taken root in the absence of intentional care -- and prepares the way to plant what should be there.

Take a moment and read God's promise again.  Is there thirsty, dry ground in your heart, an area of your life that seems back-breaking and incorrigible?  Or maybe it's someone else who is close to you, one of your offspring that you long for the softening influence of the Spirit to wash over.  God promises floods upon our dry ground.  When we thirst and long for rain of God's Spirit upon our lives and our kids', He is faithful to supply.

Maybe you've become tired like I have, tired of tugging and pulling on your life's unwanted weeds only to snap the tops and leave the roots hidden.  Maybe you've hurt yourself or others in the process.  Oh that we would let God's Spirit be poured out upon our dry ground!  May our first work be to wait for God's Spirit before we ever get to weeding.  

Songs of Deliverance

Are you the type of person that frequently has songs pop into your head while you go through everyday routines and interactions?  Maybe you've heard a word or phrase spoken in conversation and your mind triggers a memory of a song along the same lines.  Maybe you've had days when your life seems like a walking musical.  Ok, maybe not that extreme, but you get the idea.  I go through days like this when my mind thinks in terms of music...even jokingly conversing with or instructing my kids through song.  Most times it's just funny.  Sometimes it's distracting, but two weekends ago it was my deliverance.

It was supposed to be a happy Sunday afternoon at a state beach in California.  It was supposed to be a day cap off a memorable family reunion.  But when our 2-year-old attempted to walk the rim of a non-active fire pit and fell in, the 2nd & 3rd degree burns he instantly suffered threw our life into a whirlwind of pain, fear, and heartache.  I don't want to recount every detail of what happened to Jacob and how God has worked miraculously to the point that 11 days after the incident Jacob's surgeon concluded there was no need for skin grafting and that "everything is pretty much healed."  That would be too much for one post!  But what I do want to share here is a brief chronicling of the songs God used at key times to keep my heart close to His.

You are my hiding place;
You shall preserve me from trouble;
You shall surround me with songs of deliverance.  Psalm 32:7, NKJV



It was just 3 hours after the ambulance whisked my wife and Jacob away to the nearest burn center.  Since my two older kids weren't allowed in the burn ICU, I was working on handing them off to the care of my sister-in-law so I could be present with our little guy.  I walked back alone to my car with emotions running high -- panicked about Jacob's well-being, angry at myself for letting Jacob out of my sight for those few fateful seconds, and heartbroken over the visual and auditory replay of Jacob's pain in my mind.

Wiping tears from my eyes, I started the car and my phone alarm went off as it does everyday at 3:05pm -- "Take time to praise."  How can I? I asked out loud.  I tried to verbalize acknowledgements of God's power and goodness, but unconvincingly.  And then it came on.  Pulling from the playlist on my phone, the car stereo played the song based on Isaiah 53 "By His Wounds":

He was pierced for our transgressions
He was crushed for our sins
The punishment that brought us peace was upon Him
And by His wounds, by His wounds
We are healed

I bowed my head in the hospital parking lot til the song finished.  And walked to my son's room with some assurance that God not only knows the pain of our wounds but has the power to heal them too.



A little more than two weeks before Jacob's accident, we were privileged to attend Family Camp at Glacier View Ranch.  It was an amazing week filled with tons of outdoor activity, time with friends, and deeply spiritual programming.  The theme song threaded throughout the week was "I Am," the chorus of which all our kids (and especially Jacob) sing with great gusto anytime they hear it now:

I am holding onto You
I am holding onto You
In the middle of the storm
I am holding on, I am

We sang this at the top of our lungs (along with a few other songs) many times on our road trip out to California.  I downloaded a few of the kids' summer favorites, including "I Am" before we hit the road.  Little did we know how much those words would mean to us just days later.  When we drove away from the hospital with our freshly discharged burn victim two days after his fall, Jacob requested we play this song.  A wave of emotion swept over me as I heard him singing it just as loudly with all his bandages as he had when he had been all well before.

God is holding on to us.  Not just before the storm or after it...but most especially in the middle of it.



Two days after Jacob's discharge, I'm driving I-70 back to Colorado with my two older kids.  We've got a date with my wife & Jacob to pick them up from the airport.  (An 18-hour car ride was not an option for Jacob!)  And then that summer playlist of downloaded songs cycles to another one of our kids' favorites.  "My Lighthouse" was the theme song for a Vacation Bible School they attended at the beginning of the summer.  It's a stretch of the trip when my passengers are sound asleep, but my thoughts aren't.  When the song comes on, it interrupts my anxieties about the unknowns about Jacob's road to recovery -- when would the next surgery be, how many would he need, how are we going to pay for all this, etc.

In my wrestling and in my doubts
In my failures You won't walk out
Your great love will lead me through
You are the peace in my troubled sea, whoa
You are the peace in my troubled sea
My Lighthouse, my Lighthouse
Shining in the darkness
I will follow You
My Lighthouse, my Lighthouse
I will trust the promise
You will carry me safe to shore

Even if I didn't know how things were all going to work out, what I knew for sure is that we'd be brought safe to shore.

I held back tears again in that moment.  And that's when Psalm 32:7 flashed into my memory.  Songs.  Songs of deliverance.  At just the right time and in just the right way, God used simple songs to sing over me and deliver me from my fears.  No wonder a Hebrew hymnal is tucked away right in the middle of the entire Bible.  No wonder we incorporate singing in modern worship.  They're more than just emotional sentiments.  They're for instruction and exhortation, and even deliverance and salvation.  May God continue to surround us all with songs of deliverance!

Heart for the Hardened, Pt. 2

To what lengths does God extend Himself to reach the hardened heart?  As we see in the book of Jonah, the God of unrelenting love doesn't just ignore the longstanding rebellion of an entire city.  Nor does He settle for abrasively criticizing the Ninevites.  Instead He cries out to them.  He sends a message their way in hopes of inspiring awareness and repentance.

But the book of Jonah reveals more than God's heart for a hardened people.  It shows us God's heart for a hardened prophet as well.  We see Jonah's hard-heartedness right from the very beginning of the story.  Though the word of the Lord came to Jonah, the prophet didn't not come along with the word!  His first steps were in the opposite direction of God's call.  And though the reader doesn't clearly understand the reasoning behind Jonah's rebel response until the end of the book, one thing is clear:

God doesn't give up on the hardened heart even if it's in-house.



So what does the unrelenting love of God do to reach the hardened prophet?  For starters, He "sent out a great wind" to stir up a mighty tempest in the sea through which Jonah thought he could escape from God (Jonah 1:4, NKJV).  Was it a vengeful move on God's part?  No, just an attention-getting one.  The fact that God then "provided a huge fish" (Jonah 1:17, NIV) lets us know that God is intervening out of concern and compassion, not vicious violence.

What else does God do to pursue Jonah?  He answers the prophet's heart cry (Jonah 2:1) and speaks to the fish to deposit the bleached runaway on dry land.  But even after all this and the effectiveness of the prophet's message to inspire repentance and reformation among the Ninevites, Jonah exhibits an even bolder hardness of heart:

This change of plans greatly upset Jonah, and he became very angry. So he complained to the Lord about it: “Didn’t I say before I left home that You would do this, Lord? That is why I ran away to Tarshish! I knew that you are a merciful and compassionate God, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love. You are eager to turn back from destroying people."  Jonah 4:1-2, NLT

Reminiscent of the older brother in Jesus' parable of the prodigal son, Jonah fumes over the forgiveness and grace of God for the repentant metropolis.  Though this man of God had become insulated in elitism and ethnocentrism, he was not beyond the reach of divine love.  God was still patient enough to reply to Jonah's complaint (4:4) and then provide a leafy plant for shade, a worm to eat it the next day, and a scorching wind to yet again grab hold of the prophet's attention (4:6-8).  

As the prodigal father of Luke 15 ran out to both the runaway son and then later his older brother (Lk. 15:20, 28), our Creator God endlessly pursues even those who choose hardness though they know better.  Lord, cause us to receive the unrelenting love of God for our own hardened hearts, and lead us to reflect it to the hardened around us!

Heart for the Hardened

At first glance, the story sounds like a fairy tale, something you might find in a choose-your-own ending adventure novel.  But it actually comes straight out of the Hebrew Scriptures -- big fish, swallowed prophet, and all.  Growing up, the story of Jonah spoke a strong admonition to follow God's ways lest you walk a plank and end up in the belly of a fish.  But as I read about Jonah now, I see a bigger picture of God's missionary heart.  

I see a picture that's less about a prophet's failed runaway and more about our God's unrelenting love.  

Now the word of the LORD came to Jonah the son of Amittai, saying, "Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city and cry out against it; for their wickedness has come up before Me."  Jonah 1:1, 2, NKJV



Depending on the way you read these words and tone of voice you imagine God speaking with, this can sound like some serious doom and gloom.  This message of judgment against a city beyond the borders of Israel can presumably be heard as a complaint from heaven, a divine temper tantrum about the neighbors next door.  But what if it's not a cry of complaint?  What if it's a plea of compassion?  What if God's "cry" is not a calling out to criticize but a calling for to convert?

Think about it.  If God was solely motivated by anger and personal offense over the Ninevites' immorality, we wouldn't be reading about a message to them but an obituary about them.  Instead, in the face of vile godlessness and extreme debauchery evident in the ancient Near East, God wants to communicate, engage, and entreat an entire city that has rejected Him.  

What do we do when wickedness comes up before us?

When there's something that isn't right in your sphere of life, when there's great offense, or violence, or abuse?  It's not a pleasant flashback in my mind, but I remember the first time my eyes ever saw a real fist fight.  I was probably only 8 or 9 years old at the time, and as we drove past a convenience store behind a public high school, my carefree heart was frozen with fear at the sight of two high schoolers ganging up on one.  I think I was the only one in the car who noticed.  I wondered why no one was doing anything to stop the violence.  "Surely I couldn't," I thought as we drove on.  It was my first introduction to what social psychologists call "the bystander effect" or "bystander apathy."  When wickedness comes up before us, we can diffuse responsibility, generate stories to explain things away, or do all sorts of things aside from actually engaging the need.  Even when we do respond with heroic intent to heal and help, we often pace ourselves and rationalize that we need to pick our battles.

When Nineveh's wickedness comes up before the God of heaven, He can't just turn a blind eye.  So what if they don't belong to Israel?  God's love isn't bound by territories and jurisdictions.  These are people He created in His own image though they've completely used their lives to live far from Him.  God's heart is prompted to action infinitely more so than the most compassionate of us.  He knows full well how hardened this epicenter of paganism is, and yet, God has a heart for the hardened.  Instead of swooping down with swift destruction, He sends a spoken word and hopes for a willing spokesmen of that word.

When face to face with great evil and great need, God engages with great sensitivity and great salvation.  God doesn't shut down; He steps up.  He doesn't withdraw; He whispers hope.  Oh God, give me your heart for the hardened!

Correcting Correctness

Every now and then, I have fun reflecting on personality types and tendencies.  There's something about understanding myself and others that brings clarity to my experiences.  Usually it's entertaining...but sometimes it gives me pause for some serious reflection.  I remember first becoming acutely aware of my melancholic, conscientious, detail-oriented tendencies when they started showing up in my oldest child.  (Crazy how kids can walk around like little mirrors showing you all sorts of things about yourself!)  As the big sister, she often took it upon herself to correct her baby brother back when there was only one of them around.  Sometimes it was about pronunciation of words, other times what toys were hers and not his.  But more often than not, that conscientious value for correctness would tip toward condemnation and eventually tears...both hers and his.  Now that our once-baby brother has his own baby brother, I've seen that corrective pattern pop up again and again.

It starts with a value for what's right, but it quickly goes all wrong.

How many times have you experienced that?  Whatever your personality type, I think we've all observed or experienced for ourselves an interpersonal dynamic where someone's stance for the right eventually went wrong.  It happens the minute we prioritize our being right and correct over and above our value for quality relationship.  It happens when we become so zealous about our convictions that we become conscience for other people.  It happens when we bully those around us into thinking just like we do.  "I see this to be right and true, and you must too." 

Could it be that when we think we're the most right is when we can do the most wrong?



In his epistle to the church in Philippi, Paul exhorts believers to be known for something more than being right.

Let your gentleness be known to all men. The Lord is at hand.  Philippians 4:5, NKJV

The specific context of this call to gentleness actually has to do with an appeal to resolve an interpersonal tension.  Two Philippian church members who were at odds (v. 2).  Everyone knew about their beef, not just people in the church but likely those outside the community of faith as well.  Grudges, in-fighting, and divisions are the last things the body of Christ should be known for!  Instead, the keynote of the church's interpersonal dynamics should be "gentleness."

It's an interesting term.  Used only a couple other times by Paul as he lists hallmark qualities of spiritual leaders (1 Tim. 3:3) and of all believers in general (Titus 3:2), the word is synonymous with non-violence, humility, being peaceable.  But the word itself in Greek is a conjunction of the prefix epi (meaning "on, upon, above") and the root word eikos (meaning "equitable, fair.")  In this light, "gentleness" can literally be translated as "on or beyond fairness."  When Paul calls for gentleness, he's calling not for mere justice but for beyond-justice.  Like the mercy seat that covers the Ten Commandment law in the ark of the covenant, gentleness seeks the right for the right reasons and from a right heart.



Remember Paul's former life?  He use to be perfect...but at the same time a persecutor.  He use to be blameless...but at the same time a bigot.  It was when he was the most "right" that he did the most wrong.  And the violent offense of spiritual coercion is something genuine followers of Jesus should never be known for, especially as we near the return of Jesus (cf. v. 5, "the Lord is at hand.")  The anticipation of Jesus' coming is not an excuse to deal harshly with others who may be standing in the wrong.  While some faith traditions use the threat of fire and brimstone to urge life change, I know of others that seem to ignite the flames of heaven to do the same.  "Jesus is coming soon, so you better..."  Both approaches play on fear, something that perfect love is supposed to cast out (1 Jn. 4:18).  May we never be known for that kind of harshness and spiritual manipulation!

Instead, we should let our gentleness be evident to all, standing in the right while gently leading those in the wrong to a restored relationship with Jesus.  This beyond-fairness doesn't sweep wrongs under the rug.  Instead, it values rightness while valuing relationship even more.  It stands for what's true and just while sustaining the relational influence to lead others to what's right.  Let's be known for that.  May our gentleness, our beyond-justice, be known to all -- to our spouses, our children, our classmates and co-workers, our neighbors, our communities.

Pushy Prayer

"Well, that sounds a little pushy and demanding."  It's a one-liner I first heard from my older sister in response to her young kids whenever their urgency sounded more like a complaint than a request.  And yes, it's a one-liner I've used pretty often since having my own children.  The intent is to encourage communication that comes less from presumptuous entitlement and more from polite inquiry.  "I don't have a napkin" coming from my 5-year-old at the dinner table may sound innocent enough in print, but when it comes with a furrowed brow and an impatient whine ("naaaaapkin"), it's not just a benign observation but a subtle accusation that someone hasn't provided sufficient resources for an enjoyable meal.  Ok, maybe that's a little over the top, but you get the idea.  Pushy and demanding.  I recently came across a familiar Bible story that made me wonder if I slip into that kind of talk with God every now and then.  Is it possible that we get a little pushy and demanding with Jesus?



It was a joyous wedding feast.  Food, friends, and family.  The perfect recipe for a great celebration.  But according to John 2:1-3, there was a seemingly small hiccup in the course of the festivities that could turn into serious embarrassment.  Mary, aware of the issue, hurried to find an immediate solution.  Approaching the world's Savior as her son, she spoke in the declarative and rather than the interrogative, "They have no more wine."  Not just a description of what's new but an implied prescription of what Jesus should do.  It may not seem like it in print, but I think Jesus sensed a pushy and demanding dynamic in Mary's tone and approach.  How does Jesus respond to this pushy demands?

“Woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.” (John 2:4, NIV)

Addressing His mother with a common term of endearment in that culture, Jesus doesn't snap at Mary but slows her down long enough to cause her to reflect.  Why are you involving Me?  Consider for a moment your motivations here.  Jesus was not unwilling to get involved in the situation (evidenced by His eventual intervention), but He was not about to get involved from whatever motivation Mary had in mind to begin with.

We get into situations that are urgent and desperate too.  And in those times we come to Jesus with less questions and more demands.  We're right to want to get Him involved in our struggles.  But WHY do we want to get Him involved?  If we were honest, I think we usually involve God so we can have success and avoid failure, so we can experience blessing rather than barrenness, pleasure rather than pain.  Those aren't terrible desires...but they are kind of self-centered when you think about it.  Is there an alternative that's more about Jesus than it is about myself?  I think there is.

Rather than involving Jesus so we can have success, we can involve Him because we’re fully surrendered to Him.



There are few details provided in John 2:4-5, but I imagine there's a whirlwind of communication in look and tone between Jesus and Mary that even in the haste of the moment, Mary experiences something profound.  Her next words, though seemingly still demanding to the nearby servants are actually full of surrender to her Son.

His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever He tells you.” (John 2:5, NIV)

This is the point where selfish ambition turns into surrender and submission.  

Right now, our church is in the midst of considering next steps regarding larger worship space and where we can most effectively fulfill the mission God has entrusted to us.  Reading this story with that kind of discussion going on, I've concluded that to invite Jesus into this question/situation before our church is not to tell Him what we want Him to bless or tell Him what He should do.  Instead, God is inviting us to be attentive & submissive to what He’s telling us to do.

What questions have we been pushing to God in prayer?  What situations have we been demanding God's involvement in?  We're right to seek His intervention, but let's seek His action and providence because we're surrendered to Him, not just because we want success.  Let's put in check our tendency to give God instructions.  And instead let's give Him permission to lay our selfish ambition to the dust, to make us fully attentive to what He's instructing us to do.  God forgive us for praying with the presumption that You'll do whatever we say.  Instead, teach us to pray for the ability and humility to do whatever YOU say.

Stand By Me

I didn't expect too much as I walked down the school halls for my kids' "all-school exhibition."  My plan was to simply cheer on my 2nd grader as she presented her projects, and then wrap up my parental duty for the evening.  But before I could find her classroom, I was invited to step into another room where a middle school class was presenting different aspects of their year-long Real World Learning project entitled "Refu-Jesus."  And I was amazed!

Refu-Jesus.  No, that's not a typo.  It's descriptive of this class's efforts to minister to refugees for the glory of Jesus.  Over the course of this school year, these twelve and thirteen year-olds had been researching the plight of refugees in America, collecting donations for local non-profits that serve refugees, and even volunteering time at a refugee-specific food pantry...every Thursday afternoon!  These young people had not done their homework to become aware of a rapidly growing population and their unique needs, but they had put forth individual and collective effort to alleviate those needs.  It was reported that they had actually collected 2,000 pounds of rice and over 2,000 diapers for local refugees.  In fact, as a culmination of their efforts to bring awareness and help in practical ways, the class has organized a Concert Cafe for this Saturday night to raise even more funds and collect even more donations.  Like I said, I was amazed.

And I was humbled.

Humbled that a group of young people understood something about compassion and practical kindness that I didn't.  Humbled that these kids were following the footsteps of Jesus in a way that I was unfamiliar with.

This morning, when I opened to Psalm 109 to start my devotional reading, this simple line brought back yesterday's Refu-Jesus presentation:

But I will give repeated thanks to the Lord,
    praising Him to everyone.
For He stands beside the needy,
    ready to save them... (Psalm 109:30, 31, NLT)

I believe the God we serve is not only aware of the plight of "the needy" but identifies with them personally, intimately.  He stands beside.  I love that.  To stand beside is the opposite of running away, abandoning, or forsaking.  In the time of Jesus' greatest adversity here on earth, there were plenty who ran away.  But in the times of our greatest need, Jesus stands beside each and every one of us.  And He stands ready to save.  That's why Paul could face the Sanhedrin again though he had almost been torn to pieces by them the day before (Acts 23:11).  That's why the psalmist calls God our "refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble" (Ps. 40:1).  When the Lord stands with, there's strength, there's safety, there's salvation.

If the God we serve is the God who stands beside, then shouldn't we be a people who do the same?

These middle-schoolers were modeling that very principle for me, and I feel inspired to follow their lead.  Be aware and actually give attention.  Take the time and put in the effort to understand a need and those who experience it.  Partner with others who are meeting that need well and loving people well.  Lord, thank You for standing by me.  Please use me to stand by others in need.

Tell Me More

Three very simple words, but believe it or not, these three words can be a serious game-changer.  In fact, some would suggest that every young person is dying to here these words and that they're the three most loving words in the English language.  In a world of instant messaging, click-to-like feedback, and emoji responses, we have lost the art of listening.  We often default to the language of pragmatism (being quick to solve problems) and have forgotten how to speak the language of presence (being quick to sympathize and understand).  So what are the three words that everyone in all life stages long to have spoken to them?

Tell me more.

Too simple?  Just try it.

In at least one conversation over the next seven days, look for an opportunity to address these words to a friend, a neighbor, a child, your spouse.  And do so with unquestionable sincerity, i.e. speak it with a genuine desire to hear more.  Let your body language and tone of voice align with those words to show undivided attention and interest, and watch what happens. Tell me more.

My guess is you'll discover more about not just the other person's day or experiences that day, but you'll probably discover a bond and an understanding that will surprise you.  It surprised me too when I first began slipping in this phrase in my car-ride conversations with my daughter after picking her up from school.  It wasn't about interrogating, it was just about being interested.  Her one word answers of "fine" and "good" turned into stories that expressed excitement and sometimes disappointment.  It gave her a chance to share without having to feel like she had to measure up to anything in particular.  


Learn to Listen

As a preacher and teacher of the gospel, my radar is always up for more effective ways to share with and bless others, especially when it comes to best practices for communicating truth.  And this isn't just true for preachers and teachers.  Most Christians I know have a burden to share with others but often feel insecure about their ability to communicate or their knowledge of what to communicate with their friends and family.  But what if the first thing people need to hear from us is not our preaching but our presence?  I wonder if the simplicity of these three words -- Tell me more -- can remind us that

...before being concerned about what to say to people, we ought to educate our hearts to be concerned about people.

I believe Jesus modeled this kind of approach to people.  The stories I've been reading in the gospels lately have reminded me that frequently Jesus' first words to people were questions.  Think about that.  The Creator asking His creation a question.  Questions like "Where are you?" or "Who touched Me?" or "Who do people say that I am?" did not come from a position of ignorance but interest.  The questions were door-openers, allowing for a story to be told and a bond of mutual understanding to give way to trust and teaching.  Jesus was interested in people, interested in letting them tell their stories, and interested enough to actually stop crowds and hold off pressing appointments to both ask those questions and listen to responses.

Let me share two simple prayers that I'm learning to pray these days:  God, give me a genuine interest in the people around me.  And, God, give me time to actually listen.  Would you join me in praying those prayers?  May God increase our capacity to love and listen as we let others tell us more.