Broken Chair

My chair broke today. I was in my office, sitting in my chair talking with a few folks and "snap". The arm of the chair snapped right off. This of course sent me nearly on to the floor, as the arms of the chair also keep the back of the chair in place. Thanks to my cat like reflexes I managed to save myself before disaster struck.

We had a good laugh for a few minutes about the possibilities of what could have occurred had things taken a different course. But after the laughter subsided and my guests made their exodus, I was left with a broken chair.

I made my rounds to the other areas of the building where I might harvest a replacement but wasn't satisfied with any of the options. When I returned to my office I stared at my chair for a few moments and reflected on what I would have done if my dad were still alive. A simple phone call would have solved my problem. No sooner would I have called then he would have been in my office, drill in hand, trick up his sleeve, with a couple of screws in his pocket. He always had what I needed. He always knew what needed to be done and more importantly, how to do it. He was seemingly unintimidated regardless of what lie before him. Nothing was too much, nothing was too difficult, nothing was out of his league. He would simply look at a problem, and fix it.

What I, along with my family lost on January 6th was really, peace of mind. As a father to three sons, he provided a calming presence, an assurance that if the road got rough and the next move was unclear, dad would show the way and lighten the load. He could always fix our chairs.

As I reflected on this truth about my dad, I was reminded of another truth, the Holy Spirit will never leave me. When Jesus ascended into Heaven He promised another that would come in His place to remind us, comfort us, convict us, guide us, encourage us and always be there to fix our chairs.

As I stared at my broken chair I was reminded that my dad is in me. He helped create me. He taught me, he modeled for me, he guided me, he gave me the confidence to know that I was more than able to fix that broken chair. Not because of anything that I've become on my own but because of his influence in my life. With my new resolve I picked my chair up, took it downstairs and screwed it back together.

As I sat back down in my newly repaired chair, I was thankful not only for a father that influenced me in such a powerful way but also for the power and influence of the Holy Spirit who will never pass away. I will never in all of my life be without the peace of mind that can only come from the Spirit's power in my life. A peace that passes all understanding.

Searching for Hidden Treasure

Statistics say that the average super market carries around 42,000 items that are for sale.  

Crest offers 51 variations of its toothpaste in the choice of size, shape and flavor.

There are thousands of different careers that you could choose to pursue.

There are billions of people that you could have chosen to marry.

There are hundreds of cars that you could choose to buy.

There are millions of places you could live.

There are hundreds of different colors for your hair.

There is an endless choice of foods we can eat.

The bottom line is that there a lot of choices out there for just about everything and anything you want to do.  So the question becomes, how in the world do we figure out what to do? in a sea of options, how do you discern the right options? 

Check out the words found in Proverbs 2:1-12...

Well that sounds like a pretty square deal doesn’t it?  Check out what that verse says…

We will have understanding

We will have wisdom

We will gain knowledge

We will have good sense

We will have a shield

We will be protected

We will understand what is right, just and fair

We will know how to find the right course of action every time

We will have right planning

We will be saved from evil people

The passage is very clear that we can have all of that if we just…

Tune our ears to wisdom

Concentrate on understanding

Cry out for insight

Notice what the verse says, it says we are to search for those things as if we were looking for lost money or a hidden treasure. This doesn't come easy. It takes work and patience to really tune our ears to wisdom. It takes focus to concentrate on understanding. It takes humility to cry out for wisdom. 

Do you search for God’s wisdom like you would search after a hidden treasure?

Flip the Switch

John 1:5-9 says...

It’s like that game that you may have played growing up, the one where you stick your hand inside a bag or a box and you have to feel around and guess what it is that you are really touching.  You feel something slimy and wet so you guess that you’re touching worms, and then they open the bag or the box and you were actually touching spaghetti noodles.  Light exposed what was really in the box.  

Light exposes things for what they really are.  Jesus, the Light exposes things for what they really are.  Jesus Himself says so in the book of Mark.

Mark 4:22 says...

Often we don’t even realize that certain areas of our lives are dark, until the light shines in.  We’ve all been sitting in a room working on a project, unaware of how dark it's become until someone flips the switch and poof, we’re amazed at how bright it is now.  We failed to realize how dark it had become until the lights came on.  The light of Christ exposes the darkness in our lives. 

Light also helps us find our way.  We've all utilized a flashlight or a porch light for running to the car after dark to retrieve a cell phone or purse.  At my house we always leave the bathroom light so when the kids wake up in the middle of the night, they can find their way.  Seldom do any of us choose to stumble around an unfamiliar room with no lights on.  If we are not used to our surroundings we simply flip on a light to figure things out.  

What's amazing though, are the number of people who choose to stumble around in life with no lights on.  You and I have at our disposal the greatest Light ever.  John 1:5 says that nothing can overcome the Light of Jesus and yet we continue to stumble in the darkness.  

You decide to use the Light or not use the Light.  The Light is always there, but it may not be on.  Much the same way that your house could be full of lights, but if they are all turned off, then you are still going to stub your toe in the middle of the night.  

Why are we satisfied with stubbing our toes when we don't have to be?

God Speaks (Part #2)

What is prayer?  The correct answer to that question stems from an understanding of the words, "with" and "to".  In reality, prayer is my communication with God.  It's talking and listening. It's giving and receiving. Too often we refer to prayer as, "My communication to God."  Prayer isn't a one way street.  God's not a genie in a bottle. God's not a divine butler.  Often we get confused and assume that prayer is our opportunity to talk and for God to just sit and listen.  We think it’s our opportunity to tell God what we need and where we want His help.  But that's not what prayer is all about.  What prayer is all about, is when we speak to God and God speaks to us.  

I'm reminded of the old story...

Before refrigerators, people used icehouses to preserve their food. Icehouses had thick walls, no windows, and a tightly fitted door. In winter, when streams and lakes were frozen, large blocks of ice were cut, hauled to the icehouses, and covered with sawdust. Often the ice would last well into the summer.  One man lost a valuable watch while working in an icehouse. He searched diligently for it, carefully raking through the sawdust, but didn’t find it. His fellow workers also looked, but their efforts, too, proved futile. A small boy who heard about the fruitless search slipped into the icehouse during the noon hour and soon emerged with the watch. Amazed, the men asked him how he found it. "I closed the door," the boy replied, "lay down in the sawdust, and kept very still. Soon I heard the watch ticking."

You see, far too often we fill our prayers up with talking and asking and pleading. We spend so much time talking and God is never given an opportunity to speak.  We forget to stop and listen. The question is not whether God is speaking, but whether we are being still enough, and quiet enough, to hear Him.  

Consider this challenge as you pray: speak less and listen more. Try listening for twice as long as you talk. If you pray for 5 minutes a day, try listening for 10 minutes in addition to your 5 minutes of talked.  Give God the opportunity to speak to you, you won't be disappointed. I'd love to hear your comments as you try this in your prayer life.

God Speaks (Part #1)

“I was born on June 27, 1880, in Tuscumbia, a little town of northern Alabama.  The beginning of my life was simple and much like every other little life.  I came, I saw, I conquered, as the first baby in the family always does.  They tell me I walked the day I was one year old.  These happy days did not last long.  One brief spring, musical with the song of robin and mocking-bird, one summer rich in fruit and roses, one autumn of gold and crimson sped by and left their gifts at the feet of an eager, delighted child.  Then in the dreary month of February, came the illness, which closed my eyes and ears and plunged me into the unconsciousness of a new-born baby.  They called it acute congestion of the stomach and brain.”  

Those are a few excerpts from a book that Helen Keller wrote about her life.  At the age of nineteen months Helen Keller was shut off from all sight and all sound and as a result could not speak.  I was at the library a while back when I came across this book. As I read the introduction and part of the first chapter I was so overwhelmed by what happened to her.  Maybe the reason I felt so connected to it was because I'm a parent; to think that one of my own sons could wake up one day and no longer have the ability to see or hear anything really impacted me.

I thought about my sons not being able to hear me say, “I love you”. I thought about my sons not being able to hear the door open and get all excited because they knew that sound meant that dad was home.  I thought about them not being able to speak to tell me what they're feeling.  I thought about the confused look that might be on their face because they could no longer hear sounds or see mom and dad.  I thought about the fear that might overtake them when all they could ever experience was complete and utter darkness.  As I thought about those things I was stuck by something else.  I began to wonder how many of us feel that way every day of our lives?  

Not many of us have experienced what Helen Keller experienced in the physical sense, but I would venture to say that all of us have experienced it in the spiritual sense.  You know if you've experienced this because you've thought things like..

“I don’t feel like God is listening to me.”

“I don’t feel like God can hear me when I pray.”

“I don’t think God even notices me because He has so many other bigger more important things to worry about.”   

“I don’t feel like God ever speaks to me.”

Just like Helen Keller felt cut off from everything around her and probably felt very alone you and I often feel cut off from God and very alone.  But how, how can we possibly feel cut off and not connected to a God that is all-powerful and huge beyond our wildest dreams?  How can we not feel connected to the God who tells us in the book of Deuteronomy that He will never leave us or forsake us.  

How is that we don’t feel connected to God?  Let me tell you something that I hope you never forget, something that I hope you will take with you no matter where you go in life: If you ever feel like you're not connected to God or like He’s not communicating with you, it’s not because He isn’t speaking, it’s because you’re not listening.  

What kind of bridge are you building?

As a Christ follower, I am called to build a bridge for those who don't know Christ. The bridge that I build for them will show them the way to Christ. I've recently been asking myself the question, "What kind of bridge am I building for them?" Maybe the bridge is for friends? Maybe the bridge is for family? Maybe the bridge is for co-workers?  

Often we attempt to construct these bridges out of our words. We talk to our family, friends and co-workers about Christ and repeatedly invite them to church only to have our words fall on deaf ears.

Here's a newsflash: people don't want a bridge built out of words, they want a bridge built by your actions. People want a bridge of proof!  

It says in the Bible that in the first century church their numbers grew daily.  How in the world did they do that?  Think about what that means.  Their numbers actually grew daily and they didn't have the things that we have now: no church buildings, no full time staff pastors, no lights, no sound systems, no small group studies, they had nothing that we now find so indispensable. 

All they had was the love of Christ. They built their bridges with nothing more than the love of Christ.  They took care of the sick, they fed the hungry, they clothed the naked, not so people would say, “Oh, look at what they have done.”  But so people would say, “Look at what God is doing.”  The people in the 1^st century church were different than those around them.  They didn't act like everybody else.  That's what we're missing today.  We don’t act any different than anybody else.  We say we're different, but we don’t act any different. 

How do you treat people at work?

What do you talk about at school?

What do you watch when you're home alone?

How do you treat your parents?

How do you treat your kids?

Who are you when no one is looking?

Our actions speak louder than our words. I love the words of Brennan Manning who said...

"The single greatest cause of atheism in the world today is Christians who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, then walk out the door and deny Him by their lifestyles. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable."

How's your bridge?

                                                                                                           

New Firsts...

When someone close to you passes away you don't anticipate the "New Firsts". The new firsts are all of those things that are happening for the very first time without your loved one.

• First time working on a car
• First Sunday lunch
• First Monday morning
• First day back to school
• First day back in the office
• First cup of coffee
• First basketball practice with your kids
• First out to lunch
• First movie

Things that seemed so insignificant while they were here but now take on a whole new meaning. My dad was someone that I talked with on a daily basis. He usually made the first move by calling, but without fail, we chatted everyday about something. Usually something unimportant and trivial but nevertheless, we talked. The realization that those seemingly insignificant and unimportant conversations will no longer be happening leaves you with a hole in the heart. 

My mind frequently reaches for the phone to call dad because he would find this or that funny, appreciate what I'm dealing with or have an idea of how to deal with a particular situation. My brother and I laughed and cried yesterday as we worked on his car, reminiscing about dad's knack for pinpointing the obvious problem that so often easily eluded us. 

"New Firsts" aren't fun. 

Below are the words that I shared at my father's funeral yesterday...

"As I reflected on the words that I would say in this moment, my mind was filled with the memories of a father who left me no shortage of stories to tell and examples to recall and to pattern my life after. I suppose I could tell some of those stories to you this afternoon and you would walk away with a better picture of who my dad was, but ultimately, the best way to understand who someone really is, is to observe the impact that he or she made on the lives of those around them and my dad impacted the people around him. 

My dad was a big believer in discipline. Growing up in my house there were no timeouts or counting to three or questions like, “Was that a wise choice?”. You knew instantly when you did something wrong because you got whipped. And if the offense occurred while dad was at work mom simply said the words, “You just wait until your father gets home”. The day before dad passed away I saw one of those little cartoon blurbs on Facebook that said, “My parents spanked me as a child and I now suffer from a psychological condition known as ‘Respect for Others”. That summed up my dad’s philosophy on parenting. But respect for others wasn’t just something that he told us about, it was something he modeled for us. Dad treated everyone with respect and love. 

Although my dad was a man of few words he modeled for his sons what a husband and a father looked like. He modeled for me a life of servanthood as he pampered and catered to my mom. He demonstrated what it meant to be a patient husband. Mom seldom did the dishes, she never shoveled or scraped snow from the sidewalks or car windshields. He always volunteered to clean the bathroom, take out the trash, sweep the carpet, dust the furniture, etc. My dad took care of my mom in every way possible. It’s that example that my wife will attest that I’m still working on but I believe that if I could treat my wife with even a fraction of the respect and love that my dad treated my mom with, I would be an amazing husband.  

My dad modeled for me how to be a father. The attention that he paid to us as his sons, the countless school projects that he helped us squeeze out at the last minute, the time he spent showing us how to fix everything from A to Z. He modeled what it meant to not only pay attention to his kids but really focus on them and to pass along his knowledge to us. 

The way that my dad treated his mother-in-law, my grandmother, was one of extreme patience. He demonstrated not only patience, but love and respect and dignity to the mother of his wife. Over the last week since dad’s passing, grandma has said on more than one occasion, “I loved him, he loved me and we loved each other.” That certainly summed up their relationship. 

My dad left a legacy. 

He left a legacy of faith. 

He left a legacy of family.

He left a legacy of discipline. 

He left a legacy of hard work. 

He left a legacy of faithfulness.

I want you to understand this afternoon that my father’s legacy will live on, it will live on in my life and in the lives of my brothers and our sons and daughters. But you also have an opportunity to carry on his legacy because ultimately my dad was patterning his life after the person and teachings of Jesus Christ. 

His love and patience and faithfulness that have been highlighted here today are straight out of God’s Word, Paul says in Galatians,“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.” That is my father’s legacy. 

During the last few moments of my dad’s earthly life as mom, my brothers and I and are wives were gathered around his bedside he modeled one final act of faithfulness for us. He demonstrated for us how we’re to finish the race. He had been motionless for an hour or so and just moments before he took his last breath he simply raised his left hand straight into the air towards Heaven, lowered it back down and then fell asleep. 

Church I believe with all my heart that at that moment he was beginning to see the face of his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It was at that moment that he heard the words, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” 

Are you willing to die for your faith?

Are you willing to die for your faith? Have you ever considered what those who came before us had to endure?  A video to help you consider this...