by Greg

Fragile How would it be if we were gentle with one another?

If you think about it, we’re all quite fragile.

Some of us mask the fragility with bravado. We even put on a brave face for ourselves, attempting to convince not only the world but our own hearts that we are strong, capable, able, and unafraid.

But the truth is that pseudo-confidence could be shattered by minimal adversity.

Men we’d call “good husbands” are routinely disparaged or outright rejected by women we’d call “faithful wives”. And while those labels are not misplaced, they are only a mask, a cover. The same women feel unloved and unlovable by the way the same men are toward them, whether in action or inaction.

And that is when we are trying.

Coming from a place of such fragility, it’s no wonder the way we treat one another. We fight and defend, or we hide. To the point where it seems that almost every interaction is laced with this fragile timidity, not vibrant life-giving love.

“Look at my Servant, whom I have chosen.
    He is my Beloved, who pleases me.
I will put my Spirit upon him,
    and he will proclaim justice to the nations.
He will not fight or shout
    or raise his voice in public.
He will not crush the weakest reed
    or put out a flickering candle.
    Finally he will cause justice to be victorious.
And his name will be the hope
    of all the world.”1

Jesus dealt differently with the world. He sought out those of us who were most unloved, outcast, unwanted. His chosen companions were people that no one else wanted to be seen near, lest they be thought of in the same way—crushing their fragile esteem.

Jesus invites us to more, by trying less. Surrender. Let go. Stop fighting to be something, and accept that you are more loved and more “something” than you could ever be while wearing a self-made mask to look like something to everyone else.

You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.2

In what we call “The Beatitudes”, Jesus revealed that the key is to surrender, rather than to fight. Look at the position of those whom he calls “blessed”: poor in spirit, meek, mourn (a sadness from some circumstance over which one has no power), hunger, pure in heart, merciful, peacemaker, persecuted… all positions of apparent weakness, not strength.

Jesus says we are blessed when we are fragile.

What if we approached one another in this way? As fragile. Special. Handle with care, because the one you’re handling is precious, priceless. Wouldn’t it be different? Wouldn’t our responses be different?

What if when we do approach gently, but we receive a defensive or otherwise offensive response, we see and respond to the fragile person across from us, rather than respond to the mask of aggression and strength we perceive?

Jesus treated gently. As Isaiah foresaw and the Gospels confirmed, he knew we were weakened reeds and flickering candles, easily crushed or snuffed out.

I am reminded that gentleness is a fruit of the spirit. From Galatians chapter five, where Paul contrasts the flesh with the spirit, and he lists for us ways of being that are signs (fruit) that the Holy Spirit is living in us and our lives are bearing his fruit. Included in that list is gentleness.

Perhaps we are not able, in our own strength, to be gentle with others. Partly because we are indeed so fragile ourselves, and partly because it is not a product of flesh and effort but a fruit of his Spirit. A position of surrender rather than strength.

In his letter to the Galatians, Paul admonishes those believers to stop fighting one another, that to live by the Spirit is to live a life of servant love. To defer, to surrender, to serve, to love. This only happens when we are able to recognize that we are weak—fragile—and so are our brothers and sisters in Jesus, and everyone whom God has made.

Since we are living by the Spirit, let us follow the Spirit’s leading in every part of our lives. Let us not become conceited, or provoke one another, or be jealous of one another. 3

If and when we are able to live in Father’s gentle care, to follow Holy Spirit’s lead in every part of our lives, we may see others the way he sees us, and follow the warnings on our packaging: Handle with Care.

  1. Matthew 12:19-21, NLT, emphasis added. ↩
  2. Matthew 5:3, MSG ↩
  3. 1 Corinthians 5:25-26, NLT ↩
Book
by Greg

Recommended Reading

About mid-way through March of this year, I decided I would like to try reading one of those daily Bibles. I had been dabbling in reading some of the Old Testament, which I had not done for a while, and I figured what better way than to read through it in manageable, daily selections?

NLT One Year Chronological Study BibleI had used one of these Bible-reading plans a couple decades back and I remembered enjoying the experience. One of the really interesting parts was that the text was organized in chronological order. This takes you through the Bible as it was actually happening in time, rather than the order of the books in the Bible. It ends up being similar, but as you read through chronologically, with sections from different books being read side by side, the story unfolds a bit more naturally, and it’s also interesting to read the multiple accounts in direct succession, seeing how the same stories are told sometimes exactly the same, sometimes slightly differently; details added or omitted. Very interesting.

This time, I chose The One Year Chronological Study Bible (New Living Translation) as I enjoy that translation, and decided to try something different. I have not been disappointed. Perhaps my favorite part is that this is a “study Bible”. There are many helpful study tools, including addition of historical context in places, and I’ve found the notes to be the most interesting. There are copious notes on words and phrases detailing other possible translations, where each came from (Hebrew, Greek, which manuscripts, etc.), and sometimes, “the meaning of the Hebrew here is unknown”. Sometimes, you just don’t know!

While all of this is very interesting, this free advertising for Tyndale House Publishers is not my reason for writing today. 🙂

The end of September is where the reader reaches the New Testament. Jesus. The fullness of God’s story. It amazes me how much of the history of God’s people (Israel) points the way to Jesus. But when you read through all of it in order, in a way traveling through the whole story with them, you see hints of God’s whole plan throughout time.

Everything points to Jesus.

Long ago God spoke many times and in many ways to our ancestors through the prophets. And now in these final days, he has spoken to us through his Son. God promised everything to the Son as an inheritance, and through the Son he created the universe. The Son radiates God’s own glory and expresses the very character of God, and he sustains everything by the mighty power of his command. 1

And:

Christ is the visible image of the invisible God.
He existed before anything was created and is supreme over all creation,
   for through him God created everything
in the heavenly realms and on earth.
He made the things we can see
and the things we can’t see—
such as thrones, kingdoms, rulers, and authorities in the unseen world.
Everything was created through him and for him.
He existed before anything else,
and he holds all creation together.
Christ is also the head of the church,
which is his body.
   He is the beginning,
supreme over all who rise from the dead.[f]
   So he is first in everything.
   For God in all his fullness
was pleased to live in Christ,
   and through him God reconciled
everything to himself.
     He made peace with everything in heaven and on earth by means of Christ’s blood on the cross. 2

When Jesus arrives in the story, the tone of everything changes. God is here. And he’s different than we imagined. But exactly as he said he would be, and in some ways, exactly as we knew him to be.

You know how when you read a good book, you’re drawn into the story, almost into the world of that story, and you are eager for more … to see where it’s going, where it will end. That’s how I’ve felt during this experience, and I am eager to read again Jesus’ words and his actions and to see in them the fulfillment of everything in the grand scope of God’s Story.

His story.

Perhaps you think of reading the Bible as drab, dull, boring, a chore, monotonous—especially if you’ve read it many times, “I’ve already read this many times“. First, I would counter that and say that, at least in the Old Testament, you can not really say that it is boring. The Bible is definitely not for children. The stories of who we are… I’d say are rated at least PG-13!

Not to say that long genealogies and lists of numbers of people by family is not in there… it is. But if you can allow for those sections, it’s hard to call the Bible as a whole, “boring”.

In the journey through this incredible book of books3 you’ll hear God’s plan for and invitation to you. The Bible really is about God’s desire to be with his people, culminating in Jesus, who will ultimately make all things new (see Romans 8).

So grab a copy, and read along—maybe plan to start next January 1st.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some reading to do…

  1. Hebrews 1:1-3a, NLT ↩
  2. Colossians 1:15-20, NLT ↩
  3. Josh McDowell has much to say on the historical reliability of the Bible text. It’s really fascinating. There are many books, and I found this video. I encourage you to look into it more when you have time. ↩
by Greg

No Offense How we so easily offend and are offended

I need to start by saying I am sorry.

I am sorry that I have hurt you. I am sorry for careless words or actions which left you feeling hurt, overlooked, demeaned, ridiculed, devalued, disregarded, or even just misunderstood.

Yes, you.

I’ve noticed in a few recent interactions—first and third person—how easily we offend and are offended.

That includes me, and you.

So I really am sorry.

A friend recently told me that one way he hopes to spend his initial time in heaven is to have long, meaningful conversations with anyone and everyone whom he has hurt in any way, and to work through that hurt together. He added that he hopes this can happen even here and now, although in that future place there is greater hope that our insecurities and wounds will be filled and healed by Jesus himself as we no longer see through the fog of this current world.

Today I somehow offended an acquaintance completely inadvertently, actually from agreeing with her own words. (How about that?)

Even when we aren’t intentionally being hurtful, we can injure another.

I can think of many whom I have called friends that I’ve lost touch with, and while I can’t think of any hurt I’ve incurred from them (that I’ve not forgiven) there seems to be unspoken and unresolved hurts that I have inflicted upon them. That grieves me.

Even more are the hurts that I know I have inflicted upon good friends, some of whom are still good friends, but there are wounds that can not be “fixed” or completely forgotten. (And perhaps that is a lesson I still must learn in offering forgiveness to myself, though that is not what I am reflecting upon today. Another day perhaps.)

Whether intentional or not, or whether it’s even realized or known, it seems that we are so prone to offense.

Within my own home, I am often the cause of injury. I would say almost every single occurrence is unintentional. You might think I intend to only paint myself in the best light here, but from my perspective, this is true. It is extremely rare that I say or do something to intentionally injure my wife or children. I actually can’t even think of a time where I did so intentionally. Now, that does not include times when I was careless with my words or actions, and that carelessness was what caused the offense, the wound. That, I seem to do with some regularity. And, when I do, I only want to address and reverse whatever offense I have perpetrated.

But sometimes we just can’t. We can’t take it back.

So why are we so prone to offend, and to be offended?

The first part seems obvious. We see everything from a very limited and self-centered vantage point. Not to mention we are living under the curse of sin:

14 So the trouble is not with the law, for it is spiritual and good. The trouble is with me, for I am all too human, a slave to sin. 15 I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead, I do what I hate. 16 But if I know that what I am doing is wrong, this shows that I agree that the law is good. 17 So I am not the one doing wrong; it is sin living in me that does it.

18 And I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. I want to do what is right, but I can’t. 19 I want to do what is good, but I don’t. I don’t want to do what is wrong, but I do it anyway. 20 But if I do what I don’t want to do, I am not really the one doing wrong; it is sin living in me that does it.

21 I have discovered this principle of life—that when I want to do what is right, I inevitably do what is wrong. 22 I love God’s law with all my heart. 23 But there is another power within me that is at war with my mind. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me. 24 Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death? 25 Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord. So you see how it is: In my mind I really want to obey God’s law, but because of my sinful nature I am a slave to sin.1

That does not excuse intentionally hurting someone else by word or action, but as Paul explains, many times it’s not even what we are intending that is what is happening. There’s a war inside of me, and I am the enemy.

But what about the second part? Why are we so prone to being offended by what someone says or does to us, or even the reverse of that, what someone doesn’t do or say?

24 Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross, and follow me. 25 If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it. 26 And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul?[l] Is anything worth more than your soul?2

To the degree that we are able to release our hold on our own life—our reputation, our performance, our strengths or abilities—we will be less and less able to feel offense. This is because the nature of an offense is to diminish, and if we are already diminished (He must become greater and greater, and I must become less and less.3) then there is a diminished target for any offense.

It’s not common, maybe not possible, that we achieve full diminishment in this life. (The war, remember?) But as much as I am able to trust Jesus instead of me, I have a better chance of avoiding offense. At least, receiving offense.

The first side greatly depends upon his Spirit producing fruit in me.

But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness, and self-control.4

As long as we are trying to protect our kingdom, we will offend and be offended. There’s just no way around that.

The more we can live in the kingdom Jesus points us to, the better our chances of avoiding offense. Both ways.

Until then, I am sorry. Please forgive me my offenses. Let’s work through them together, and I’ll continue to look first to his kingdom and his righteousness (rather than my own) and you and I will be rewarded with the fruits he produces.

Only in Jesus.

5

  1. Romans 7:14-25, NLT, emphasis added ↩
  2. Matthew 16:24-26, NLT ↩
  3. John 3:30, see also More of You and of Me Less ↩
  4. Galatians 5:22-23 ↩
  5. One last footnote here. I decided against addressing the bevy of examples of what I would deem “fake” offense produced by social media and other media where we are not even allowed to have divergent thought these days. That is a whole thing unto itself, likely related to what I’ve laid out here—even on the internet, we can’t be offended if our life is in Jesus rather than in ourselves—but the insanity that is the current climate of forced uniformity of thought via those media is alarming to say the least. ↩
by Greg

Reminders Little things can mean a lot

I have a story to tell you.

It started with our oldest daughter wanting a different vehicle. Her recent luck with used vehicles purchased in NY state is abysmal. Each of them were corroded by rust beyond the point of reasonable usage within a year of her acquiring them.

So we decided to look for used vehicles from southern states. Bingo! Found a match and booked plane tickets to go purchase it and drive it home.1

Along the drive home, we stopped to visit her cousin (my niece) who has recently matriculated at a university in Virginia Beach, VA. We enjoyed breakfast with her, and then had about an hour to head to the beach while she attended her first class. We planned to meet her afterward for a tour of her new home away from home.

She directed us to Chesapeake Beach on the Chesapeake Bay. I was a little disappointed that we were not seeing the Atlantic, but it was still beautiful and I was enjoying the time with my daughter. We called home, too, to share the experience with Jen, who was watching the grandkids in Kirstie’s absence. (She has a regular gig babysitting her niece and nephews a few days a week.)

Via the video call, I showed my granddaughter the sand and the water, and all the beach things I could find, finally promising her that I’d find her a beautiful shell to bring home for her. To that point we’d seen a few fragments, and I knew that a three-year-old would find most any of them to be “beautiful”.

But they really were not very impressive. Hardly any were even whole, and even the fragments had holes in them.

Not long into our stroll down the beach, with just a small handful of possible treasures to bring home, I spotted what looked like shells just up ahead. But there were so many, and they were so big… it couldn’t be…

But they were! Hundreds of full, large shells just sitting there almost as if they were on display for us!2

We approached, astonished, and kept saying we’d found the best one, only to find five more best ones! It was amazing. We discovered there were probably hundreds more just at the edge of the surf, waiting to be washed up on shore, if these were not enough. An incredible abundance of shells!

I noted shortly after we discovered this treasure trove that the placement directly in our path (there were none other as far as we could see in either direction on this beach), and the abundance, were certainly a gift from Father. Every good and perfect gift is from him!3 Kirstie was thinking the same thing, how could this not be from him?

But just because he really wanted us to know it was from him…

A young woman with her dog had come along behind us and was marveling at the copious bounty of shells, just as we were. I was walking back from the far end, toward her, and she said, “Can you believe these shells?!” I agreed with her, and she followed with, “It’s never like this!”

That piqued my interest even more, and, having already been thinking that this was a gift from God, I decided to tell her our story. I told her about the phone call, and the promised shell, and the normal shell-hunting experience (dismal), and then this little hundred-foot block of Treasure Heaven. She replied, “Well, I don’t know who that girl knows, but someone is listening to her!” I smiled, and, knowing the Someone, said, “God is good!” She looked up at me, smiled back, and said, “God is good!”

We all enjoyed the moment, with no more words. A bit more shell hunting. Some cute little crabs caught Kirstie’s and my attention for a moment, and we watched them for a minute or so.

When we had gathered the shells we wanted and were about to head back toward our vehicle, I glanced back to see if the woman and her dog were there, but they were gone. I scanned a bit down the beach, and saw in the distance a few people with a few dogs, but I didn’t think they were her.

A bit confused, I got Kirstie’s attention and pointed out that the woman was gone, and we both wondered, where could she have gone?

We continued scanning the people (and dogs) we could see and Kirstie said, “There are people with dogs, but none of those dogs are the kind of dog she had…”

She had just vanished!

After a moment, we looked at each other, amazed again, thinking God had sent an angel to us, just to confirm that, yes, this was a gift from him to us.

Sometimes along the way, life begins to either get into a monotonous groove where each day seems to pass without notice, or there is so much going on that days become completely overwhelming. These can end up being two sides of the same coin. Each day passes and you start to say, “Where has the time gone?!”

This is probably why God encourages us to rest, be still, listen for his small voice. He is always there, but whether we’re droning or barreling along, we often miss his reminders that he is with us (and for us!).

I remember often a concept that Gary Ezzo shared in his parenting course, Growing Kids God’s Way, which we enjoyed a couple decades ago now. (I referenced this in a post called Ceremony in 2006.) There was a supplemental resource in their curriculum called “Memorials” which he suggested were an important way to remember these moments where God reminds us that he is with us. A small, physical, visible token that will prompt us to at least remember, if not share the story with someone else of “That time when God…”4

Kirstie and I now have some of those shells where we regularly see them.

The rest of our trip home, and in several conversations afterwards, the story of the shells was remembered, told, and our hearts were gladdened by the Giver of Gifts each time.

God is good!

  1. Note: you may be thinking, this sounds like a lot of stories, not just one… and you are correct. There were many stories from this one trip. But for today, I will skip over those stories and simply tell the one. ↩
  2. The photo with this post is what we saw on that beach. ↩
  3. James 1:17 ↩
  4. Another story you might enjoy in a similar vein was The Water Shoe story. That one involved us trusting and asking, but it was the same Giver who replied. ↩
by Greg

Twenty Years Life Changes, God Does Not

A lot can happen in two decades.1

When I posted my first “blog” 20 years ago this date, I was a musician, writing, recording, and performing my songs anywhere and everywhere across the country. I was a young, recently-married father of two (with one on the way) who preferred air-conditioned, indoor life. A cup of tea, a good book, and a dimly lit, quiet nook to enjoy them both. (Note: that last part has not changed much.)

Now I am a farmer. And a grandpa. And a “Fixer-Man”, so dubbed by my granddaughter2. And, I’ve already celebrated my 25th wedding anniversary.

My family has expanded. I have two daughters-in-law. And I even have an extra daughter (a friend of my daughters who has as good as been adopted as our fourth daughter).

My oldest sons have full-time jobs, one in a different state. My daughters have jobs, caring for animals and children. Two of them ride horses for fun, and also serve ice cream for pay. My youngest son is playing organized hockey and soccer, and loves to join in any unorganized sporting activity as well.

I’m still not a “car guy” after these two decades, but I now have several vehicles registered to my name, because we have many drivers. Four teens living in this house!

I am blessed.

The crazy thing is, through all of the changes, God has not changed. Really. Not at all. (I know, that’s not really a shock, but when you think about how much else changes, it still should be somewhat surprising.) I have certainly learned more about him, and from him. And I’m certain that I relate to him differently. But that change is in me. Not him.

I do still like board games.

One thing I was right about twenty years ago: spending time with family and friends is the best way we can spend our time.

With the passing of time comes the passing of family and friends. I’ve lost my grandparents, a cousin and an uncle (within a short time of each other), and my father-in-law. Several good friends are also now in their eternal home with Jesus.

I’ve lost hair, teeth, speed, endurance.

And I am blessed.

Twenty years from now, what will life look like? I could take a guess. But I’d probably be wrong.

There are No Guarantees in this world.

But one thing I do know: Jesus will be the same.

No matter what we have or don’t have, what we’ve done or not done… Jesus is the same (greatness) yesterday, today, and forever.3

…for I have learned how to be content with whatever I have. 12 I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little.13 For I can do everything through Christ,[d] who gives me strength.4

The seasons of life are so interesting. There was a time when I made time to create. Notably, in those seasons, we had less money to spend on things; I guess that could be why I had “more time” (though all of us always have the same amount of time, we all get to choose how we spend it). I do still very much enjoy writing, and there’s music bubbling up inside me, trying to get out from time to time…

So we’ll see what the next twenty brings. I’m sure it will be interesting.

And I know I’ll be blessed.

  1. One thing for sure here is that one can not encapsulate twenty years of life into a 650-word blog post! I know far more things I’ve left out of this post than I’ve included. Perhaps they are the seeds for future writing here? We shall see! ↩
  2. Ironic, in that I have a post titled “Home Handy Repairman Jack” explaining my ineptitude in that arena. Things really have changed! ↩
  3. 8 Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Hebrews 13:8 ↩
  4. Philippians 4:11b-13 ↩
by Greg

Indentifying With Mary Rather than Martha, whom we all know got it wrong.

I identify with Martha.

That might seem odd, in that I am a man, but I think I do.

I’m not talking about any sort of gender identity crisis, mind you. Rather, as I was taking care of many details around my home today (which I find myself doing quite often) I was reminded of the story of Martha (and Mary). You know it already, but it’s short. Let’s read it together:

As Jesus and the disciples continued on their way to Jerusalem, they came to a certain village where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. Her sister, Mary, sat at the Lord’s feet, listening to what he taught. But Martha was distracted by the big dinner she was preparing. She came to Jesus and said, “Lord, doesn’t it seem unfair to you that my sister just sits here while I do all the work? Tell her to come and help me.”

But the Lord said to her, “My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her.” – Luke 10:38-42 NLT

So, you feel like complaining that your sister isn’t doing enough of the work? No. She does plenty of work.

You’re tired out from having so much to do? Yes… but, no.

I think sometimes it seems like that’s the point of this story: relaxing with Jesus > house work. Don’t worry about serving, cleaning, feeding, or any of the other ways one might be hospitable. The most important thing is to just sit down and listen to Jesus.

While it may not be the main point, that is at its core true.

And I’m just not sure that Martha’s stinky attitude was the point of that story, either.

So today, while sweeping the floor, after starting a second load of dishes and cleaning up the lunch I had prepared for my son and his friends, as well as my father- and mother-in-law, I thought of a different way that I am like Martha.

It is not atypical for me to be serving others. It’s almost entirely what I do. Nearly every minute of my life is spent doing something that is essentially or entirely for someone else. That is honestly how I prefer it, and perhaps (I believe) how I am made to be. I don’t want attention on me, I love to do work that makes others feel loved. I would guess that is a gift of hospitality, but I’m definitely the kitchen staff, not the wait staff. Behind the scenes is where I thrive.

You probably think that is odd if you know me from any public forum. I am certainly able to be on the stage, or bare my heart and mind through words published or sung. But that, too, is never for me. (At times, this blog is “for me” in that I do process thoughts as I write. But I still prefer to deflect any attention directed toward me.)

But Jesus said, “There is only one thing to be concerned about.” Again, does he mean don’t worry about the dishes, or the dog hair all over the floor? Or the trash can overflowing with smelly food trash? Leave that moldy cheese right where it is, because that is not the one thing to be concerned about!

I don’t think so.

How I identify with Martha is that I forget to enjoy life. Not on purpose. I’m not avoiding joy, nor life. Again, not purposefully. However, Mary welcomed Jesus by giving herself to him. Listening to him. Enjoying him. Martha only wanted to serve him, make him feel welcome, give of herself to him, too, I’m sure. But she, like me, often defaults to spending herself for others rather then bringing herself to them.

I am definitely guilty of that.

As I ponder this thought, considering what could change so that I might find the one important thing, like Mary did, there are many options. A more concerted effort to be together with other believers? More time with my kids while they are young, and my wife, whom I love? What about spending time writing, which I have entirely abandoned. (Mostly because, as Martha knew, there is so much to do!)1

So, I will read. I will be quiet. I will talk with Jesus. I will listen for him. I will look for ways I can give myself (not what I do) to him—and to you.

That is what matters. And I think, what Jesus said in that moment, is true for us, too: it will not be taken away.

I may identify with Martha, but my identity is in Jesus.

Now, pardon me, as I sit down for a while and spend some time with him. (You can help yourself to whatever you’d like from the fridge.)

  1. Footnote: I am not certain whether I will pick up my pen regularly again. My life is no less full this week than it has been for many months, and even years now. But as I thought to write down the thoughts running through my head today, I did consider that could be a way for me to sit at Jesus’ feet. Then again, it could just be another Martha thought (something I can do for him, and you). No promises, for sure. ↩
by Greg

Marriage: Great Risk, Great Reward It's not in what you get, but what you give. And give up.

Marriage is hard.

If you’re soon to be wed and you hear those words, you eschew them as the trite acrimony of bitter people. That will never be true for us, you say to yourself, sure of the truth of your conviction.

Without fail, you discover that the union of two lives into one is never smooth, easy, care-free, or any other blissful thought we hold before marriage.

I love my wife. I love her more than anyone ever. (Sorry, Mom…) She is so special to me, everything about her. It is truly difficult for me to imagine my life without her. I love her laugh, her smell, her eyes, her joy; her long, beautiful hair, her passion—be prepared for fiery discussion if you hit upon one of her passionate topics, of which there are many—and I love her gentle spirit maybe most of all.

But some days are so hard! So hard. When two people share life, it is not a 50/50 split. In marriage, the math doesn’t make sense. It’s one hundred percent, each way. Well, that’s hard to do! (It doesn’t “make sense”, remember?) But it’s the only way it works.

With that math, you are completely in the hands of another. That is the greatest risk of marriage. You are 100% vulnerable. All of you, with none in reserve. In that equation, you are giving up control. To work well, a marriage requires both spouses to contribute their all—100%—to the other.

Thus, success depends as much on your spouse as it does on you.

That is the great risk.

And, that is the great reward.

If marital success could be achieved by your own efforts (i.e. the things you have control of) then it would stand to reason that many more marriages would succeed. Why not “try” to have a great marriage, if all it takes it to “try harder”. That is obviously not the case, and most would agree, doesn’t make sense. Even if you are giving your all—and, likely, that’s an exaggeration of your own ego, more than a factual truth—your marriage could be a shambles if your spouse is not also fully in.

The risk, then, is entering into to this life-long commitment, knowing that you are actually giving up control. You can not produce a great marriage simply by your own efforts.

But…

The reward of giving yourself fully to another, whom you are then trusting to do the same is, even in concept, astounding. The joy in that journey is incredible. To share all of life’s moments—euphoric, crushing, and in between—with another, as one…

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. So again I say, each man must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband. Ephesians 5:31-33 NLT

That quote is so often misused. It is not to require submission, or assign dominance. In the paragraphs before that one, Paul explains how a wife respecting her husband is like the church submitting to Jesus’ lead—in essence, trusting—and how the husband’s love is to be like Christ, who died for his bride (the church).

Both husband and wife are giving up themselves for the other.

I like how Paul refers to marriage as “a great mystery”. It is mysterious. How can two individual lives become one? There are still two individuals, but there is one new creation. A mystery.

We can have a great marriage. But the greatness comes—as in all of our relationships in life—by humble submission to one another. Giving up control, placing trust in the other, and enjoying the fruits of that rich soil.

[agree] wholeheartedly with each other, loving one another, and working together with one mind and purpose.

Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves. Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too. Philippians 2:2-4

The great reward of marriage comes not from what you get, but what you give. And also what you give up.

by Greg

Speaking Of Death The difference between not fearing death, and not really living.

cemetery

A good friend remarked recently that death or dying came up frequently in our family’s conversations. His comment was more a good-natured jab, I think, as we were all enjoying funny thoughts and stories, joking around.

But I have thought about that since. I wondered if we perhaps give death—one of God’s enemies, defeated by Jesus on the cross1—too much air-time in our daily conversations and thoughts?

I do not imagine us to be morbid, by any definition. But neither do we fear or avoid the biological fact that each of us will expire at some point in the unknown future. The passing of our good friends, family, and friends of friends is, of course, a constant reminder of that fact of life, just as it is for you.

One reason we can so confidently discuss our own deaths without fear is that we are confident in what lies beyond. When we die we are with him in paradise2; to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord3; this world is not our home4. All of those truths (and more) assure our hearts that death is nothing to be feared, rather it will be a welcome door to our true, eternal home.

On the other hand, while it is right to so fully trust God with our souls that we do not too tightly grasp this life, a point can be made that too much focus on the next life will cause us to miss where we are right now. Where God has placed you, and is with you, right now.

We just released a new song last month. (My wife and I are musicians, working on a new album.) The song is called This Journey. I sometimes wonder if people will interpret the lyric of this song incorrectly.

“All along this path of life is where the real treasures are”

I know that our true home—that goal toward which Paul reminded us we press forward, our whole lives—is heaven, eternity with God and his people. I know that. That is the “real treasure”. What I hope to inspire with the words (and music) of that song is a renewed joy in sensing, seeing where God is right now, right here, right where we are. In the beauty of the things he has made, in the people whom he has surrounded us with, in the very fact that we are breathing, our hearts beating.

There are two extremes. One focuses entirely on the eternal and misses the present, while the other focuses entirely on the present (which will pass away, just as we will) and misses the eternal. I think there is a balance found between the two, where God is with us all along our journey.

A quick, related aside:

There is a man we know from our college days at Cincinnati Bible College (now Cincinnati Christian University) who has battled physical ailments for quite a while now. His name is Rod. Rod is always smiling, always loving other people (like, beyond-your-imagination loving), that’s just who he is. I happened to catch a Facebook post of his (actually posted by another on his behalf) that was essentially a good-bye to all his friends. It seemed his body was most likely ready to give out, and he would be home with Jesus soon. He wrote that he was not afraid, but would also be glad to stay, much like Paul in his letter to the Philippian church.

The short version of the rest of Rod’s story—which, as far as I can understand, is amazing—is that God has brought him through that! For now, he has much (or all?) of his health back. He is grateful to God for more time to serve him here, with the people he loves.

And this is my point. While we can be fully, confidently, supremely unafraid of death because Jesus has overcome that, and death is not our end… there is still an amazing joy (even in hard times) of waking up to a new day God has given us here, now.

I’m sure that when I die, whenever, however that will come to me, there are seven people in this home who will miss me. (They seem to be rather fond of me.) There are others, too, I know. (Hi Mom and Dad!) But my hope is that I can, do, and will live my life in such a way that it is fully known that I will be where I am made to be, and any sadness will only last for a short time. And, mostly, that all would know I lived my life to its full, with and in Jesus.5

It may be after I pass a hundred years in this body, or it may be next week. We can’t know, and I understand that is what can cause us to fear. But if our trust, our hope, our life is in Jesus, we have nothing to fear.

And we will also truly live here. And forever.

by Greg

Volatile, Historic Times and the Spider Who Doesn’t Care

Righteous indignation on each side; blustery public diatribes backed by legal or biblical authority; verbal wars among foes and friends and family which take no idealogical prisoners—this seems to be the state of current events.

But this tiny spider doesn’t seem to know, or care. She’s not angry, or justified, or changing the color of her web to the rainbow.1 She doesn’t notice at all. The sun came up, she made her web, she’ll eat if bugs show up, and the sun will go down again when the day is through.

spider

Yet we struggle, we fight, we vehemently beat back opposing views.

Views. That’s what we’re fighting. Views. Opinions. Beliefs.

I am a person. I have my own views. I do not think it’s wise to equate the marriage between a man and woman with one between two people of the same gender. I do not think it needs to be illegal, but to me—my belief, my opinion, how I would choose—it would be wiser to proceed as God designed us to be.

(Please note: in this post, I’m not going to address any “how we are made” thoughts other than the obvious reproductive gender differences which I am referencing above. Of course there are so many other mental/emotional/chemical/physical factors.)

Since God has said that it is unnatural for a man to have sex with a man, or a woman to have sex with a woman;2 well, I believe him. He also said he hates divorce; so I plan to never choose that, no matter how much “sense” it might seem to make at some future time, or how much I might want it (to be clear, I do not want it now). He also said adultery is wrong, no matter how much it might seem like a good idea, or we might want it. Sex is for marriage, between one woman and one man—that is God’s best design. (And nothing else.)

It is not our place to condemn sin. (As Romans 2 says, then you’re just condemning yourself, too.) Sin is anything which takes the place of our reliance upon our Father. It’s often a counterfeit of the good he wants to give us. Sex is great, of course, in the context above. But every other form will harm us, or somehow harm our relationship with God, who is our Life.

It is not just homosexual sex, nor any other “great sin” our friends on the conservative right rail against which is sin. Nor is it neglect of the poor, or greed, or religious bigotry against which our more liberal friends crusade. There is so much sin. None of us is free from it, or immune from it. None of us has never sinned.

(Sidebar: if you have never read John 8, please take a moment to read it now. So enlightening.)

Now that I’ve shared my opinion on the matter, do you think I hate anyone wanting to marry someone of their own gender? Do you hate me for thinking that is not what God intended for them?

Of course I do not.

I do not hate anyone. Really. I don’t. I think I might be labeled as hating, though, because I believe some things (behaviors) are harmful, and wrong. (I think drinking pop is harmful and wrong… so maybe I’m not a good test case?)3

Difference of beliefs is not hate. It’s really, really not.

But let’s wrap this up with a return to my new friend, the spider.

As I ate my lunch, thoughts of all the discord and self-righteous banter, Facebook photos and links swirled through my mind. In that mental maelstrom, I felt noticeable peace. (Despite the noise of the traffic which passes our house most hours of the days.) I saw that very tiny spider, quiet and still on her web, swaying with the gentle breeze. I could imagine her saying, had she the voice, “What’s all the fuss about?”

I’m not saying these things aren’t important, but they are not worth a war of words. Certainly they do not justify hate in return for perceived hate. If someone thinks differently than you (so long as they are not actually harming another) then just let them. Just let them.

The world will go on. Until Jesus returns, there will be harm and good, pain and joy. Both coexist together.

I think the spider would say that we should, too.

  1. It is ironic, though, is it not, that there are rainbow-colored pinwheels in the background. 🙂 ↩
  2. Read Romans 1-2, especially Romans 2 if you are a Christian reading this. ↩
  3. One more sidebar: I am currently reading a very interesting history of the Confederacy. The Story of the Confederacy was written in 1931 by Robert Selph Henry. Should I burn this literary work? It is not condemning the Confederate flag, nor its people. Rather, the author is hoping to present both sides of the story in our country’s history. It’s important. Does my interest in this mean I hate black people? ↩
by Greg

Underneath The inside is what matters

Beyond our bodies, we’re all the same.

Lately I have had an interesting experience when seeing photos of people, current or historical. Somehow in my mind, I am seeing (thinking of?) the person beneath the exterior. Wondering at what unknown depths there are to that particular individual; wondering how we might be similar.

Not that we are not unique—we are marvelously unique. God’s immense creativity (beyond our imagination) is evidenced just in how different each of us is from another. Incredible diversity!

And yet, we are also the same.

On the outside we are different. One has dark skin, another’s epidermis could not be more light. One has long, curly hair, another has none at all. One is woman, with soft curves; the other is man, flexing firm muscles. Big and tall, short and small; seasoned with age, or fresh and youthful; healthy and vibrant, or broken down and hurting.

faces

All this is what we see first. Our impressions begin with what matters less. Because, when we allow ourselves to see (and also, when we allow ourselves to be seen), we are all so much the same.

We hurt, we laugh, we despair, we love, we fail, and we thrive.

None of those things are exclusive to one type of person; that’s because we’re all the same. We are spiritual beings, made in the image of our Creator, Father. In Christ, says Paul, there is no male or female, Jew nor gentile, slave nor free1. We are all one. Brother, sister, family. Wealth, position, race… none of these truly matter to who we are.

James reminded Christians to not show favoritism to the wealthier people among them. It’s so easy to do. On the outside, such a one seems to be more important. But when we can see past the outside, looking into another’s eyes, hearing their story, their hearts, their thoughts—this is where we are reminded that we are so much more alike than we are different.

Battles rage these days about these things. A young man in South Carolina, killed nine people, simply because of their skin color. Also, earlier this year, riots in Baltimore were caused by conflicts (real or perceived) due to our different bodies.

Concurrently, the story of Bruce Jenner demonstrates, in a way, how our bodies do not make us who we are. I do not fully understand his story, nor necessarily agree with the measures he has taken, but on one level, it illustrates that we are certainly more than just what we see on our outsides.

This is not easy. We trust our eyes first, and most. That’s why we need the reminder to “walk by faith, not by sight“—it’s in our nature.

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Don’t judge by his appearance or height, for I have rejected him. The Lord doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

And, also, from Psalm 139:

O Lord, you have examined my heart
and know everything about me.

I think we know that we are more than our skin, or our gender, or our social, economic, and political standings would seem to present. I think we know it. But so much conflict comes from our perceived differences. (Which differences are certainly present, but would be better to celebrate than used to separate.)

If only we could see others as we are seen; with God’s eyes to see that which does not age, that which he has made, his masterpiece. The part of us that can spend eternity with him, no matter what happens to us in this life, in this world.

In that we are the same. (John 3:16)

As one individual, I know I can’t really do anything to stop racism, or any other ism. But we can each try to remember to look deeper, see deeper, and focus on our great many similarities, rather than our apparent differences.

After all, those differences are only skin deep.

  1. In context, Paul is specifically speaking to Christians, who, when identified with Christ in his death and resurrection, living as “Christ in me”, with the old now gone, we no longer think of the differences on the outside. Galatians 3:26-28 ↩