Stormy Weather

There's just something about summer rain that I love. These are the special rainstorms where the sun is still shining bright and we respond to those heavy drops of nourishment with a smile. We had our first one of the year here yesterday and I greeted it gladly while I closed my eyes, looked up toward the heavens and thanked Him for the much needed blessing and the peace that these showers bring to me.

Blessings. 

This is a topic that, while we sort of understand it, we don't react the way we should for the most part. It is our selfish nature to make our Christianity all about us. Christ died for me. I'm not saying this isn't true, but I now understand that it is incomplete. Yes, Christ died so that we may be saved AND through our salvation reveal the glory of God to all the earth. What makes you think your blessings aren't the same? Psalm 67 says, "May God be gracious to us and bless us; look on us with favor SO THAT Your way may be known on earth, your salvation among all nations."

Over the past couple of years God has been overhauling me. My broken heart, my broken spirit, my lack of understanding Him and His purpose. One of the big hurdles for me was trying to comprehend grace, (as much as we mere mortals can, that is). What I came to understand was that grace doesn't just stop with me. He doesn't give us grace, He gives grace to the world through us. The same can be said of any of the virtues as well: patience, joy, wisdom, mercy. These are all gifts that we ask for and, once we've received them, should be spread to all those around us. Sadly, I think we fail at this more than we succeed.

The same principle should be applied to all the extrinsic gifts God has given you as well. Did He give you a spouse? Then you honor Him through how you treat them, support them, exalt them, love them. Did He give you children? Then you better follow Max Lucado's lead and lift them back up to Him. Your house? Your car? Your money? Your health? In what ways is the glory of God being shown through the blessings He has given you? Are you playing safe with your blessings, (yes, you probably are), or are you giving til it hurts/scares you? And I'm not talking about what you give to your church, either, (but I will be driving that bus sometime this week), I'm referring to the people you encounter on a daily basis. What are you giving them? Whoops! Wrong question. What would God give them? I have much more to say on this, but I will save it for another day. But I hope that you will pray about your hangups, your own selfishness, and how the world could truly see God if we truly stepped out on faith.

I will praise You in this storm, too.

We talk a lot about the storms of life. The trials. The rough stuff. We talk about how these times refine us and bring us closer to Him. All of this is absolutely true. I've lived it. Repeatedly. 

But what about the other times? When the sun's still shining and yet He is teaching us, still. Nourishing us. Are we searching and listening as closely during these times as we do when we are hurting? Most likely not. We are a fickle bunch whose emotions can influence our choices. This spiritual "summer rain" is a place I've seen many get caught off guard by satan. 

When things are good, we relax and, naturally, we are less diligent about our communication with God. Our prayers are less frequent and less intense, our spiritual disciplines become an afterthought. 

I haven't had many times like this in my life to be honest and certainly am not there right now. In fact, I don't think I'll know how to react when it happens again. That moment where you exhale all the crap and you have such joy for all the amazing things God has done, (I confess I'm still short of breath most of the time). Chances are I will end up in the midst of an ugly cry again, so just call me a modern day Margery Kempe and stop staring!

What I wish for you my friends is that whatever rainstorm in which you currently find yourself, whether dark as night or bright as day, take the time to be still, lift your face and hands to the sky, allow the rain to completely drench you, to nourish you, because it's all for His glory, not ours.

Pick me! Pick me!

I was never picked first in elementary school. Most of the time it was close to last or, on a few occasions, dead last. It wasn't that I completely sucked at sports, well except dodgeball. I never understood dodgeball, but if you'd given me a sport where I could chase people with a bat instead of an awkward-sized rubber ball, I most certainly would've excelled. I think it's because I've always been an unknown variable. Consistency is not exactly my strong suit to say the least.

This, "never being picked first" curse has followed me my entire life. Having been passed over for jobs or promotions, never getting the role I really wanted, rarely being asked my opinion on important matters, this did little to validate me. Even in the moments I have had a little success, I felt like it was in someone else's shadow. In turn, I have always behaved however I wanted. It's not like anyone was paying attention, right?

The further away I get from the values of the world and closer to understanding the life God wants for me, the less I am bothered by my curse. Don't get me wrong, I'm still hoping that someday I will walk into a room full of people who adore me, cheering and clapping and throwing confetti with Whitney Houston on stage belting out "One Moment In Time," (obviously this dream needs an update), but I can laugh at myself now. I accept that this life isn't about me at all. It's about God using me to reveal His own power and glory. To take someone so shattered by this world and recreate him into an instrument of grace and love is something only God can do and for which only He can be given praise.

It's painful, no doubt. Much like a doctor must re-break a bone that has healed wrong, God had to re-break my heart so that He could perfectly mend it. The result of this, you ask? His clever plan for me to be completely, 100%, no holds barred, dependent upon Him. This has taken the conversations in our relationship to a whole new level which is exhilarating and exhausting all at once.

We argue daily. And I get so frustrated that I can't see my path forward yet, but He is teaching me to trust Him completely. For someone that has never actually trusted another living soul since the day his mother died almost 26 years ago, this is no easy achievement. In "Life of the Beloved," Henri Nouwen writes about a choice we make through the healing, reconciliation, and realization processes: "It is here that we are faced with the freedom to make a decision. We can decide to be grateful or to be bitter. We can decide to recognize our chosenness in the moment or we can decide to focus on the shadow side."

As easily as bitterness comes to me, I fight it with prayer and praise because, while my dry, cynical wit is still an obvious card I play in social situations, there is no room for the seeds of sour grapes in this new heart He's given me and filled with His spirit.

Of course I struggle. I haven't finished a blog in over a week because I couldn't get over myself and my own feelings of doubt and frustration. But today, among other good things and people, a friend, (an AMAZING friend at that), texted me this:

"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." Jeremiah 29:11

I have read this repeatedly for the past couple of hours. Actually, I'm clinging to it like a toddler with a security blanket, because, well, I'm human and giving up my own life and my own say in the direction of that life is, well, completely and utterly terrifying.

But that's what it takes. Total surrender. Asking to be chosen last. To be made least. There is no other way.

So take heart my fellow dodgeball failures! God's got a plan for your mad skills.

And for those of you who've been hogging the spotlight, be careful, it can blind you to the truth.

The Heart of the Matter

Yesterday our church spread out all over Jonesboro to serve our community. I was part of a team that went to support an effort our friends at First Baptist had already begun. We did a mini-VBS with the kids and served lunch to anyone who showed up.

Now, before I say anything else, I should tell you I didn't really do anything. I went into this event feeling like I should step back and observe because there was something for me to learn. And boy did I.

I had invited some ladies to come with me to the event and they were very happy to join in and help. They are members of our church, but tend to keep to themselves mostly and not because they are strange or try to isolate themselves. I think it's because they just don't get asked. Know anybody like that in your church? If you don't, I suggest you look around next Sunday.

These ladies arrived at the complex with me, but took off ahead of me as I waited for others. Before I knew it, I looked up and saw them wearing gloves and walking all over the apartment grounds picking up trash. The interesting contrast was that I saw many of the "involved" members of our church standing around talking to each other sort of lost on what to do.

Now, I am not being judgmental at all. I am grateful for each person that gave of their time and even showed up. Many of us, me included, are stepping out into unknown territory and have quickly become experts at hand-wringing. There's an adjustment that has to happen when you step out of your bubble. God never said that his work would just come naturally to us. It takes time and there is a learning curve. And we certainly had far more volunteers than tasks.

My point is, while God is the only one who can truly know, there are some moments we get a glimpse into the hearts' of others . These ladies are servants and I am humbled by their fearlessness to just walk into a situation, see a need, and start taking care of it. No muss, no fuss. Those are my gals.

Each of you have people in your life that you don't invite to things like this. Sure, you've probably invited them to worship, but that's an immediate turn off for what I would guess is the majority. However, we live in a time where most have a sense of social responsibility and do like to volunteer.

So here's your chance friends! Engage the people around you and give them a chance to show you what kind of heart they have. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.

And a big thank you to those that led all of the events around town yesterday, especially Meagan Cremeens for putting ours together and being a great example of leadership to our young women. You can read her latest blog post at:  http://inthenameoflovelaughterandliving.blogspot.com/2012/04/you-love-for-me-to-sing-to-you.html?spref=fb

I wanna hold your hand

People always leave.

I came to accept this "absolute truth" at a young age when, in a very short span of time I lost my mom, my grandmother, my grandfather, and my aunt. I felt abandoned. And there was no one left in my life to show me affection. Don't get me wrong, my needs were met, and I know people loved me because they took care of me, but none of them really showed me through physical contact. Given everything else that went on during this "7 to 11" age, (someday I'll be brave enough to write about them), it's no wonder that, by the time I hit puberty, I felt completely alone in the world. I also had a lot of hate and I dolled it out in true "Shane" style for the better part of two decades.

In just the past few weeks, I've watched friends suffer great loss. A single car accident that killed a previous co-worker, the mother of a dear friend just suddenly gone, and a buddy, with whom I shared a birthday and deep sadness over a girl who left us too soon, killed in a motorcycle accident. The ripple effects of these lives are evident in the outpouring of emotion from their deaths.

Now, there's a little boy, Joseph, for whom my heart breaks everyday. My buddy, Joe, was his father and his mother was Jennye, the girl who left us too soon. I know this child's ache. That physical, painful emptiness that sits in the middle of your chest and makes it hard to breathe. Even at thirty five I still feel like an orphan. Even though I know it wasn't by choice, I still feel abandoned. Fortunately, Joseph is surrounded by family that includes many of the most amazing, loving, godly people I've ever known. And they know how to show affection.

Loneliness sucks. And more often than not, I still get swallowed by it, but I'm trying to trust that He is with me and that I am loved, no matter what. It's easier said than done when days go by and you think, "I could be dead as a door nail on my bathroom floor and no one would even know. I hope I'm clothed if that happens."

The truth is, we all need to make more effort to love the people in our lives. It is far too easy for the hurting, the abandoned, the broken-hearted to slip from our grasp because we were too busy focusing on things that don't matter in the end. And in this age of technology, there's no reason why, when you think of someone, you can't tell them, (and if you don't, you could be ignoring the Spirit, just sayin').

I love the aramaic/english translation of Hebrews 13:5 that says, "...for THE LORD JEHOVAH has said, “I shall not forsake you, neither shall I let go of your hand.”

Much of the way God shows his love for us is through his people.

God wants his people to be affectionate. He knows the importance of being embraced. He knows that when you put your arm around another person that, even if it's just for that moment, that person feels special. Loved. 


So get to huggin' people. There's no easier way to change the world. 


And if you need someone to hold your hand, just ask, because my God always provides. Always.

Knock, Knock

Today I have been visited by an old friend of mine: doubt. I'm sure you have met him. He's a clever cat, always there, consistent, patient, just waiting for that one thought. That one moment of weakness where you consider the lie as truth.

Yesterday, a friend, and someone for whom I have great respect and love, made a joke about the fact that I don't act my age. So true. And completely harmless, until I get home and am by myself for five minutes and begin to obsess. What do these people think of me? Do they think I'm stupid? Silly? Shouldn't be respected? Unworthy of them?

Yes, I confess, this is how I operate. Every conversation, every situation, I replay on a continuous loop to find some underlying meaning or intention, or to confirm what I already believe in my core: you don't really like me. I have no extrinsic value. I am merely taking up space and oxygen.

This journey toward realizing my own self-worth has been unbearably long, filled with anxiety, frustration, and a lot of tears, (I'm getting weepy in my old age), but the rewards are what keep me from opening that door on days like today. When God shakes me out of my inner-turmoil coma and shows me how He used me to impact a child's life, change a perspective, or how He turned my sacrifice into something far greater, I live for these moments. I guess you could say it's my new addiction.

There is, however, a greater story here. And that is, what should I look like? We generally ascribe certain things to my age, (marriage, kids, career, home, stability, etc.), but what's the truth in them? Honestly, there isn't any. There's nothing wrong with any of it, so don't misunderstand me, but these things can be, (and typically are), as selfishly driven as anything I've ever done. All of these "trappings" are the sign of a grown-up, a person who has made the right investments, worked hard, claimed their "40 acres and a mule," if you will. It's the American dream and, at its core, it is a very dangerous one. How could that be dangerous, you ask? Because it leads to self-sufficiency and pride.

I really struggle with this "ideal" that people put upon me, (and, for years, I put upon myself), that I had to live a certain kind of life to be respected or appreciated. It's not so much my own self-worth anymore as it is the people I see hiding behind these mostly "surface" identifiers. I just want to jerk them up from that job or house they're hiding behind and say, "see, you were meant for more."

And don't get me wrong, marriage can be a great and godly thing, but with a sixty plus percent divorce rate among Christians, (higher than the national average), we've made it either a hurdle for approval or a selfish investment. And kids? If I had the resources, I'd adopt and foster as many as I could tomorrow. I know how it feels to be left alone in this world. But I'm not there yet, (hopefully someday I will be), and until then I will support my friends who are parents, giving them breaks, and being an example of an individual who stands strong in Christ.

All the other stuff? I doubt that God will ever leave me in a comfortable place for long, so why bother. This world isn't my home anyway, so it's no surprise that I have never felt like I belong enough to want those things.

Now, to set you all straight so my inbox isn't flooded with comments: I am not judging any of the things I've mentioned here, (though I do dare you to ask yourself the question, "did I really need that mercedes/lexus/bmw, or could I have bought a Honda and been just fine, therefore freeing up more resources for God to use?"), I understand that people are unique and have different levels of need. And God really wants us to enjoy His blessings, but you should ask yourself to what extent your blessings are for you and for you to bless others.

I do challenge you to ask yourself the questions that I am challenging myself with: what do I REALLY need? What could God do with me and the things He has blessed me with if I got out of His way?

I am sure that doubt will come a knockin' again soon, possibly before the sun reaches the horizon, but I will simply lock the door, sing His praises and dance like the barefoot fool the world, (and a lot of the church), thinks I am.

Cause this is God's house. And He don't take kindly to strangers.

Short and Sweet

PSALM 117

Praise the Lord, all you nations; extol him, all you peoples. For great is his love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord.

That's it. The shortest chapter in the bible. There's an irony here. Three sentences with the second one ending in "endures forever." That's pretty long isn't it? Unfathomably long actually. But I have to say I enjoy the sentiment here: this is what you do, this is why you do it, so just do it. I often wish my own pulpit minister, (yes, I own him, he just doesn't know it, well, until now), would take a lesson here, (love you Jimmy, no really, I do), because sometimes I just don't have the mental capacity, the energy, the "umph" to listen for 20 to 30 minutes. Just say what needs sayin' and let's get on with it already! I figured out what I want for lunch during that unbearable silence in communion, so now I'm starving! Hurry up man!

It's not that I don't ever listen, I do. And I am making a concerted effort to take notes these days, (mainly to recall ideas for blogs, I confess), but I am trying. But, no matter what, I catch myself watching one of the teens doing something silly or trying to make out faces on the farthest side of the auditorium from me just to check my eyesight, (yes, I have vision insurance, but I find this exam cheaper and no one's blowing air on my eyeball which is the part that gives me serious gas pains.).

Patience is something not easily gained. And don't ask Him for it unless you're really ready. He will give it to you in spades. And never let up. Ever. Side note: He has a similar plan with wisdom which begins with a very long process of making you realize you don't know a flippin' thing. Turns out Aristotle was right all along.

So, the purpose of this was, wait, I've been too busy going back and forth between this and Facebook to recall. Oh, nope, wait, I've got it.

God knows we all suffer from some form of ADD. So, just because you haven't progressed to some deep place of spiritual discipline, (you know, like me), it doesn't mean that your brief moments of prayer and worship aren't as sweet to Him as the most intricate, well thought out, masterly crafted Psalm.

Often it is "Help," but mostly it's a sigh, a groan, an upward glance, or a handful of tears. To Him, it is the reason you were made and there is no more beautiful melody than that. He even appreciates my old school, Vanilla Ice, two pounds on the chest followed by a peace sign. Stop. Collaborate and listen.

Take a Hike

Okay, before I get on with this, I need to explicitly state something that I have previously implied but perhaps some of you have missed. For now, this blog is inherently about me. My struggles. My lessons. I look forward to the day that I significantly reduce the number of personal pronouns used in my writing, but until then I can only put down what God puts on my heart. This is all new to me and so I will make mistakes. I only today have truly realized three things: 1) That something I say or do might actually impact another human being. The idea that someone would actually take me seriously, well, I'm struggling with that concept. 2) My intended audience is those of you who are in the "in between" so to speak. You're not stumbling around in the dark, necessarily, because you recognize God for who He is, but have yet to truly realize His power, grace, glory and how it can flip you and your life on its head, (in a good way). 3) My actual audience is far more diverse and eclectic. From preachers to well, whatever the opposite of a preacher is. There will be times that one side of the spectrum or the other will be lost in what I write or may read into it more than is my intention. For this phenomenon, I will just beg your forgiveness up front because I guarantee you it will happen again.

I titled my first entry "the middle of the beginning....with no end" because that's what all of this is. It is mid-conversation. As much as I try to build a framework for each topic by prefacing or referencing back story or whatever, my entries would be far too long if I went into too much detail. This is about how He has changed me and is continuing to do so. So when I say something along the lines of I don't need this that or the other to be what I am called to be, I am not subversively attacking a person that exists with those qualities. I am stating that  this is who I thought I had to be and now realize that it is most certainly not. I'm not attacking those things or judging a person like that, (though I confess, I am chronically "judgy" and I am working on it), I am showing you, the "in between," that you don't have to fit some mold either. God wants to take hold of you right where you are. You don't have to move or even flinch. In fact, He'd prefer it if we'd just let Him control every muscle group, (especially the ones involving the mouth and hands).

Last night, I received an email from a best friend who was deeply hurt by what I wrote. I read this email while I was at work and I couldn't tell you a single thing I did or said from that point on. I was on auto-pilot. I just kept saying over and over in my head, "what have I done? what have I done?" While I do want to challenge you, push you, press a little hard on a tender spot, even anger you a bit, I don't ever want to inflict a personal wound like that, (so if I ever do, I expect to you to confront me).

Something funny happened, though, during my panic. I realized that I cared. As many of you can attest from experience, I have been a person who says what he wants and if you don't like it, it's your problem. Build a bridge and get on over it. Granted, much of that frankness and willingness to talk about the elephant in the room is alive and well within me, but never before have I felt like someone else's hurt was my hurt.

Let me tell you about my friend. He's a Galatians 6 kind of friend. Verse 2 says, "carry each others' burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." We have known each other for, well, like 57 years, but only since I moved to Jonesboro two and a half years ago did we truly begin a friendship. For the record, it has not been easy. We are totally different people. I am an open book mostly, emotional, outspoken, back and forth, up and down, anything but stable. He is reserved, thoughtful, careful, and steady. We have two completely different world views and have led two drastically different lives. In any given situation, if I'm attacking it head on at full speed, I can almost guarantee you he's gently backing into it from the opposite side.

When our journey, (hike up the mountain, really), started back then, I was still in a very dark place, battling the ugliest of demons who were daily ripping at my flesh to get to my soul. While I had some good days, for the most part I was in pitch black, sitting in a pool of my own blood, screaming for help. I lashed out. A lot. And often, it was my friend who was at the receiving end of it. Partly because he was the embodiment of everything I thought I had to be and I resented him for it. Some days, I wanted to hate him for it. The other reason was because I didn't trust him, so I tested him. Constantly. I've pulled this trick with every man in my life and that goes back to a lot of childhood crap that I am sure I will cover at some point, but not today.

During this journey, he has been steadfast. Some seasons he has been more present than others. Sometimes he was there, sometimes he knew I needed to work through something on my own, sometimes he would walk away to avoid one of my tantrums or to let me pout on my own, (yes, it is possible to put another grown up in timeout). Sometimes he stayed away for his own sanity and safety to ensure my darkness didn't take him over. He did this without saying much, he's not much of a sharer in the conventional sense. But sometimes, I would come home from having worked out of town 4 or 5 days straight and my yard would be mowed. Little notes or texts from him and his wife would pop up at the perfect moment to say, in many different ways, " I see you, I see your hurt, you will get through this, you are not alone."

I added so much extra weight to his load for a long time. I complicated situations, I demanded attention, I put so much responsibility on him because I couldn't do it on my own. And he carried it. He carried me.

This morning, we met and walked around the park together, (I confess, I chose this because I wanted multiple exit strategies), and we talked. We discussed a lot of different things. He questioned me and I was more than willing to answer. We laughed at ourselves and we talked in a way that we really haven't before. He gave me trust and respect by showing me his heart and I am forever humbled by that gift. Granted, he told me what he thought and I took it. I relished in it actually.

That's the funny thing about Godly relationships. No matter what the other person is saying, when you know how much they love you and are invested in you, you soak in everything they're saying with joy in your heart. My friend did this and all the while walking a hilly road with traffic, passers by, other distractions, and being the one to step off into the mud when necessary so that I didn't have to. That is my friend. That is who God  made him to be. While the walk this morning had its own moments with steep inclines that had to be pushed through, it was a respite from the hike we've been on for what seems like forever, but our hike continues.

You see, when God puts you on His path, stands you up, dusts you off, and gives you a chance to look around, you find His people. The people whose hearts are filled with His grace, patience, compassion, joy, and so much of it all that they can't help but share it. I am grateful for those people because they have become my family. God gives to completion and one way is through His people and, in this respect, I am the richest person alive. Today, specifically, I am grateful for this particular friend for being everything I couldn't be for myself. On this journey, you have pushed me up the hill and kept me from stumbling down the other side, you've nourished my soul, you've lighted the path in the dark. Though I pray no darkness ever comes your way, if it does, I promise that I will be there, by your side, flashlight in hand.