Category / Life With God

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 ↩
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

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 ↩
by Greg

New Beginnings

sunrise

Do you notice that sometimes there are themes around you? I do. Every once in a while, many things around me (or even in me) will work in apparent concert toward some consistent message, idea, or theme.

Lately, I am being pretty often reminded that life is full of new beginnings.

And also that it is not.

For example, each day is a new start, each year—happy new year to you, reader!—and many other instances on the calendar or the clock provide us with a fresh beginning.

Today I marveled at sleep. Each night (for most) we shut down to regenerate. Our energy (and even our heart and mind) is replenished by an end of one day, and a preparation for the beginning of the next. Even within sleep there are cycles that our bodies go through, giving us the most effective, helpful rest to replenish us. Incredible.

A new home, a new business, even paying off debt and gaining new financial freedom—even in our own creations we find the recurring theme of a fresh start.

Some new beginnings are thrust upon us, contrary to anything we may have chosen, by accident, illness, or the will of others. Life can change in a moment—and never go back to how it was.

There are so many new beginnings, it seems to me that it is an essential part of God’s design.

Certainly not the suffering, or any evil, or the pain and brokenness of a fallen world, of the fallen us. But with so many examples around us of cycles of fresh starts and new beginnings, it must be a truth our Designer wants us to see.

Recently I have been noticing that I am no longer young. I don’t feel old, and I realize that compared to many, I do not qualify as aged. (I just spent time with my nearly-nonagenarian grandparents. They probably think I’m silly to talk about “not being young”.)

One recurring scene that reminds me that time has passed is young families. At the store, in photos of friends on social networking sites, at the public library—everywhere I see what I once was. I was them. My young wife and I, along with our younger (and fewer) children. We were those confident-yet-bewildered brand-new adults, feeling our way into what would become our life.

Sometimes—more often than you might think—I wish we could go back. I don’t want to really go back; who would? But I do wonder what it would be like to enjoy that newness again while keeping all the wisdom life has taught me through the experiences we’ve had since.

That is not the way of things.

Life always moves forward. We can’t—and shouldn’t—go back. And so God gives us new beginnings. Each day, each month, each year. And sometimes the new beginning happens at a moment of our choosing. When we choose to accept his new mercy this morning.

Those may sound like “just words” to you. When life thrusts a new beginning upon us, unwelcome, and unchangeable… we don’t want words. We want what we’ve lost. We want to undo the change.

I think God has reminders placed all around us—really, everywhere—that we would know that life moves forward, and he moves with us.

Maybe each time we remember that (and believe it), that is another new beginning. Which means we are perfectly, exactly where we’re meant to be.

22 The faithful love of the Lord never ends![a]
His mercies never cease.
23 Great is his faithfulness;
his mercies begin afresh each morning.
Lamentations 3:22-23

by Greg

God Is Good! All The Time!

Have you heard that as a cheer? We hear it when something “good” happens. We hear it less often when nothing good happens, and even less often when BAD things happen.

But he is still good.

I heard good news last week. In fact, the news was “good” to a whole region of people. Western New York oft repeated the phrase, “God is good!” on Twitter, Facebook and out loud upon hearing the news that former Buffalo Bills quarterback, Jim Kelly—a member of the NFL Hall of Fame, and beloved by so many here, and around the world—was cancer-free, again! (The second time he’s had to fight cancer, and won.)

Jim has an incredible story, really. He was not such a nice guy in his playing days. But God has used one crazy, tragic event after another to transform him into a man who is so generous, so thoughtful toward others, some might hardly recognize him. He does much good for many people, and is loved (as I said) by so many.

lightning_strikes_storm_cloud

God is good! All the time!

But when I read and heard all those things, there was a twinge of “yucky” feelings in me. (And I now admit, that really should not be there. I am to rejoice with those who rejoice. The Kelly news should be celebrated! It’s great! God is good!)

I could only think, “Would those people have said the same thing, ‘God is good, all the time!’, had God not written a full recovery into Jim’s story? They might… but probably fewer people would remember to say it.

Job did. He had absolutely everything taken from him other than his wife, and his life. All his children, his wealth, his possessions, even his health. And still he said:

He said,

“I came naked from my mother’s womb,
and I will be naked when I leave.
The Lord gave me what I had,
and the Lord has taken it away.
Praise the name of the Lord!”

We’ve heard the story. But have you lived it? Are you now? We know many people dealing with many hard things, and despite the wearisome, never-ending, painful, life-draining circumstances they are enduring, they too will staunchly declare: God is good! All the time!

They know He is. They’ve felt him, even in the darkest moments, reminding them of his deep love for them, and his true goodness, and his constant care and affection for them. Not just a Bible memory verse, but an every day—every moment—reality.

Do you know that? I ask myself, do I? Am I not prone to the same “God is Good” when things go the way I hope they would go, and less often when they do not?

Yes. I am weak. I can not always (without hesitation) say “Praise the name of the Lord!” as Job, or my friends.

But their example reminds me that even in the most unimaginable, unwanted, nearly-hopeless situations… yet we have hope. We know that he is with us. Really with us. When you see these friends, you can’t help but smile in response to their smiles! What a great example of the hope we have in Jesus, and the true joy we can know in him (not to mention a great example of the love of a husband and wife for each other, enduring together all things, no matter how difficult).

What is life throwing at you? What is too hard to handle, to bear, to stand up under.

Stop trying to stand. Rest. Trust. Hope.

Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.

Those are words on a poster—until you need them. And we all do, or someday will.

Count it pure joy when you face trials of many kinds. They are reminders that we need him, yes, and it is usually in those times that we are reminded that (even better) He is with us.

So it is true: God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good.

The trick is learning to say that when the times are less than “good”. Still he is and always will be… good.

by Greg

Twelve Years

cd-caya-2This is the week for remembering, it would seem. Just days ago I marked the eleventh year since the start of this blog, and today, August 29th, we passed another special day in our family’s history.

In the year 2002, our music had become the primary focus of our days and weeks, and even years. Our young family—married less than five years, with boys aged nearly-three and almost-one—we had begun to accept invitations to share our music with people around the entire country. Weeks and months were spent on the road performing the songs I had written previously, as well as leading groups of Christians in worship music composed by others. This often led to more songs being written by me (including some more worship songs to lead more people in singing) and it eventually led us to produce another album-full of these songs in recorded form.

That summer we had spent a few weeks in the studio, after a few weeks in various practice locations, after a few years of crafting and “learning” the songs ourselves. The culmination of these weeks produced our third full-length studio album: Come As You Are. And on August 29th, at Crosswinds Wesleyan Church in Canandaigua, NY, with our friend Paul Robert Jones opening the evening by performing some of his own music, we celebrated the finished work of this album with a hundred or two of our friends. It was a great, fun, memorable night.

Through the years, the songs we recorded that summer have spread across the globe. The CDs and cassettes have made their way through postal services, and carried by hands to far away lands. They have been downloaded to computers and other digital music devices. And they have impacted hearts and minds and lives with the message from our Father: come as you are, not who you will be; it’s rough from the start, you might think you are beat. But it’s not the righteous I want, for I came to seek and save the lost. Just come to me!

The song—the whole album—was a collection of the words God spoke (even still speaks) to me. His invitation to a broken soul, well aware of his inabilities and shortcomings and failures, to a life of freedom with him. Free to be my broken self. Free to hope for better, to know he accepts me and wants to show me, lead me to the Life that I’m meant to have with him—in him.

We listened to it again tonight. Most of my kids and I. (Mom and oldest daughter were off sorting clothing for a community clothing give-away, and scoring some that would also help our family.) We listened, and sang. I told stories from the recording days. I thought through the words. I think they did the same.

The message still resounds in my heart. All of these songs. I want to know you better Lord. I want nothing less, nothing more.1 And, I don’t want this to end here; my life for you just in a song. Please change my heart, Lord, and let me words speak for you. I give my life to you.2 And, songs like The Mountain To The Sea, and My Visible, See-Through Friend, and Because… all of them, really. All reminding me of my life, found in him.

If you’ve not heard the album, you can listen to all the songs here. Or, we’re on Spotify. And iTunes. And Amazon. You’ll find us out there. I would love for you to hear the whole thing. All the better if you can find a quiet time to listen to not just my voice, and Jen’s voice… but the voice of The One who made you, loves you, and invites you:

Come as you are.

  1. “The One – basic – Come As You Are ↩
  2. “Heart Of Mine” – basic – Come As You Are ↩