The Advent of Self-Control – December 22, 2013

Suggested Reading: Hebrews 12

Choices.

There is a saying that life is what happens while you are making other plans. This pithy maxim hints at the fact that our lives are largely made up of a myriad of small choices. These choices determine the overall direction of our lives. It is not our intentions that determine our direction, but the actual choices that we make and the consequences that follow those choices.

Mary was chosen, but she had a choice. She chose to submit to the will of God as revealed through the angel Gabriel. It is difficult for us to imagine the path before the unwed Galilean peasant girl. In her initial response to the angel, she was confused and disturbed. She knew that to be found pregnant without a husband might well mean her death. She questioned the angel, but at the end of the conversation, she chose to trust and pledged herself to God’s service.

Joseph too had a choice. He must have been very upset when he found that his bride to be was pregnant. He had decided not to press charges, which would have meant her death and that of the unborn child. He was not about to marry her under the circumstances, until he too had an angelic visitor who reminded him of the ancient prophecies. He chose to believe the angel and cherished Mary and her unborn child.

Without the choices of these two nobodies, simple people from a small town, the Messiah would not have been born. Imagine the pressure they would have felt to make the opposite choices. Imagine the fear and the uncertainty. From where we sit, two thousand years later, reading the familiar story, we can miss the stress and difficulty, and in doing so we miss the beauty of their self-control. They exercised their will and became a part of the greatest story ever lived.

As Jesus grew in wisdom and in stature, in favour with God and man, He learned obedience through suffering. What must it have been like for Him to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous treatment at the hands of sinful man, when the power of heaven was His to command? He wrestled in the Garden of Gethsemane, facing a torturous death, but chose to endure the pain and shame of the cross in obedience to the will of the Father. Through His death and resurrection, He made a way for us to live with God, and His self-control can become ours.

We have daily choices and wrestle with conflicting desires. In this we are not alone, we have the Spirit of Christ in us, the Spirit of self-control to show us the way and help us to choose it.

...

Questions:

What choices do you have before you today?

What might God be asking you to do?

What areas of your life require self-control today?

A Letter to the World

I am participating in the Open Letter Challenge writing contest organized by Josh Irby. The following letter is my response to An Open Letter to You from the Rest of the World.

Dear World,

I love you!

I really do.

As I sit hear at Heathrow Airport in London, watching you walk by, listening to your languages and the laughter of your children, I'm struck by my love for you. I haven't always felt this way...but I do now.

For years, I was a afraid of you. You hurt me so many times, and I am pretty sure you'll do it again.

But I love you anyway. Not in a dysfunctional Stockholm Syndrome sort of way. Not in a wounded and abused spouse or child kind of way. Just hanging on and allowing myself to be pummeled for your pleasure sort of way.

I love you in a hopeful way.

I love you because I am part of you. You are my family. We are all children of the same Father. Our family has trouble, like every family, but we have to stick together and get through the trials and the tribulations so we can share in the joy and jubilation.

I know I have hurt you too, and I am sorry. I'm sorry I have lashed out at you. I'm sorry I have ignored and neglected you. I'm sorry I haven't been more responsive to your needs, to your cries.

But I have hope for us, for our family; broken and battered as it is, as we are. It doesn't have to be this way. It can be better. We can change. I know this because I have seen it, because I am living it.

I am changing. I am choosing to love even though it is risky. I am choosing to be brave even though I'm frightened. I'm choosing to care even when it hurts. I'm choosing to serve even when it is not seen. I'm choosing to give even when there is no gratitude. I'm choosing to do hard things, even though I really don't feel like it. I'm choosing to invest in my relationship with God, even though it doesn't always make sense.

As I do this, I am coming alive. I am becoming who I really am. I am finding freedom and joy that I thought were only found in fairy tales and legends. I am getting better. I'm getting stronger. And here's the thing...it's better over here!

There is real hope! We can get better!

Come with me. Lets do this thing together. Let's love and serve and care and give, and discover what we were made for.

We'll all be glad we did.

The Voice

I should be working today.

My desk is a mess. It's so bad that I am not even sitting there as I write this. I've moved into the other room. The problem is that I've been working in this room for a few days now, and I've pretty much destroyed this place too.

It tells me something about the state of my soul, when I allow my environment to disintegrate like this. But it doesn't feel bad. It feels like something is brewing, percolating, poking me.

But what? What is it?

I feel creativity rising up in me. I have felt it for weeks, although I haven't named it until this moment.
I now realize that I have been running from it.

But Why?

Because creativity is scary...at least to me. I feel this urge to create, but then I find myself struggling with my voices. The voices of my past, of my experiences, the voices in my head that come against creating. I recently marveled as I read Josh Irby describe these voices. I thought, "How does he know what happens when I try to create?"

It's not that I've been unhappy, or unhealthy. Aside from staying up a little too late and not getting as much sleep as I should, I've been fine. I've been experiencing God, loving my family, and doing my job. But I have also been trying to ignore The Voice.

There are times when The Voice is telling me to do something I don't want to do. I don't want to speak or to write. I don't want to risk. The voices tell me it is all for the best. I should just keep my head down, not aim too high, not venture too far. They are familiar, they comfort and cajole, they are part of me. When this wears thin, they do their best to intimidate and distract, but ultimately The Voice will be heard. The Voice is relentless.

The Voice invites me to be who He made me to be. The Voice invites me to create, and forces my creativity to the surface, the creative expressive part of me that He is redeeming, the best parts of me, the parts of me that are my own true voice. The Voice pushes and prods, making a way for me to approach the Throne of Grace and to take what I find there and to speak it, sing it, dance it, write it, to communicate it to the world.

Today, The Voice used a video by Dave Grohl (a video not for the faint of heart, but perfect for this old punk rocker) to remind me that my voice matters. To remind me that in choosing to create and express my voice there is freedom and power. The video itself felt like a distraction. But I was drawn to it, and couldn't stay away. In hindsight, I see that He was leading me to a voice that I would resonate with. Profane, but honest and insightful, He used Dave's voice to call forth my own.

So today I choose again to create and write, no matter what the critics think or the market will buy. The joy is in the journey not the response of the spectators. The victory is in the creating. But the greater victory is in harkening again to The Voice and enjoying the fellowship of the Spirit in this previously walled off area of my heart.

When?

The urge to create
The desire to imagine
The holy abandon
The joyful passion

When did I learn
Horses aren't green
Skies always blue
Reactions can be mean

When did I learn
My dancing isn't graceful
My words are unwelcome
Responses can be painful

When did I learn
To hide myself away
To learn to pretend
To don a mask each day

To protect my soul and my creations
To dodge the scorn I stop creating
To miss the mockery, shield flesh from thorn
I escape, procrastinate, and mourn

How do you measure greatness?

How do you measure greatness?

How do you decide when a man or woman deserves that accolade?

Do they have to be the fastest? The strongest? The richest? The most talented? The most powerful? Do they have to have the most influence, or get the most votes?

How do we measure greatness?

I’ve been reflecting on this as I ponder the death of my Grandpa Ed. Ed was not great as the world reckons greatness, but he was a great man.

Ed was born far from the corridors of power and lived his entire life outside the spotlight. It is not that there were no accomplishments or moments of glory. He started with very little and ended up with more than most. Along the way there were numerous awards and achievements. But it seems to me that greatness should be measured across the span of one’s life, rather than viewing a life through the narrow lens of a single event or accomplishment.

I call him a great man because of the innumerable small choices he made every day, because the sum total of those choices amounted to a life well lived and an incredible legacy, worthy of emulation.

Through these small choices, he lived a quiet life, minding his own business, working with his hands and living a daily life that was worthy of respect, not being dependent on anyone. (1 Thes. 4:9-12) It is said that your greatest strength can be your greatest weakness. This was true of Ed’s desire for independence.

His tough early years produced toughness in Ed. He did not like to be dependent on anyone, which served him well in most aspects of his life. The area where it may have hindered him most was in his relationship with God.

But eventually, Ed grew to recognize that dependence on God was not a risk, but a joy. It wasn’t until 1997 that he fully gave himself to Jesus, and was baptized at the age of 76. Even at that late stage, the change of heart was evident to those who knew him well, as greater gentleness and kindness were added to his character.

As I view his life, I see a man who lived well...who loved well. He loved his wife with passion and faithfulness for 71 years, a feat few accomplish. He provided for his family. He was generous and humble. He played the hand dealt him, without complaining; making the best life he could out of the circumstances thrust upon him.

Ed played his small role in the grand story. His role was not huge, but he played it to the hilt. He did what God required of Him. He ran the race with endurance and has finished well. He is now safely home, free and whole in body, mind, and heart.

He leaves behind him a legacy of love. The world is a better place because Ed was in it. He was a son, a brother, a husband, a father, a grandfather, and more. He was not a perfect man, but he was a good man. He won’t make it into the history books, but that does not mean that he was not great.

Few who truly shape history are listed in the books. The generals are listed, but the foot soldiers do the real fighting. Ed was one of the great foot soldiers of history; a truly great man who achieved innumerable small victories in the larger battle. Let those who come after him note his life and passing. May we, who are his legacy, follow his example.

The Invitation

Come...

Come to me...

Come away with me...

Can you hear the invitation?

God calls to us. The heavens are His handiwork showing forth His brilliance and power. The birds sing His praises. The mountains and the seas demonstrate His awesome strength. Creation is a canvas upon which He masterfully paints His attributes, wooing us to Himself.

Every day it pours forth speech. Night after night it whisperingly reminds us of the glory, beauty, creativity, and love of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

The eternally existent Triune God invites us to join with Him. They beckon us to come, sit at Their feet and learn from Them. We, like Mary, can choose the one needful thing. To sit with Them and listen—to commune with Them.

All too often, I hear other voices—pressing, strident voices—demanding my time and attention. The needs are so great! The pain and despair so loud! All too easily, my head turns away from my Master, my Lover, and I busy myself with the work. The needs are real and there is SO much work to be done. I hurry and scurry to get it all done; frustrated with those who don’t share my sense of urgency.

Paul heard the voices. He saw the needs. He worked hard for the Gospel. He also knew what it was to walk with the Spirit. It is through Paul’s example and letters that we learn most about the Holy Spirit. Paul was compelled by the love of God and filled and controlled by the Spirit. There were times when the Spirit led Paul away from ministry opportunities. Paul followed the Spirit into the desert.

Jesus too heard the voices. He knew the pressure of work and the expectations of men. Jesus showed us how to live in the midst of this. Very early in the morning, when it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where He prayed. He often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.

Jesus could do nothing apart from the Father. The Son of God, emptied Himself and took on the very nature of a servant, was born, lived, and died, as one of us. He made a way—through His life, death, and resurrection—for us boldly approach the throne of grace. He showed us how a human life can be lived in union with the Father, and the Holy Spirit gives us all that we need for life and godliness.

This day, let us choose to heed the call. Let us answer the invitation of our Lover. Let us say, “I am my beloved’s and He is mine!” Let us join with Mary, and sit at the feet of our Jesus. Let us join with Paul and let the Spirit fill and control us, leading us wherever He will. Let us join with Jesus, and withdraw to a quiet place to spend time with the Father.

Creating or Consuming

Over the last few years, God has been slowly awakening me to my own creativity. It is hard for me to think of myself as a creative person. When I think of a creative person, I think of a great painters like Caravaggio, Cassat, or Monet. I think of poets and sculptors, great men and women.

Somewhere along the line, I believed the lie that creativity was for the professionals. "Our part is to appreciate. Theirs is to create." 

My children have been a big part of this renewal of my creative side. They create all the time. Lego. Songs. Dances. Paintings. They are not inhibited. They have not been told that they shouldn't create, or that their creations don't measure up. So, they create freely and expressively.

They create because we were all made to create. When we create, we image forth a part of the very nature of God. When we create, we participate in, and express, His creative work. He is the Creator and we are creators. 

I feel like there are cultural forces that work to turn me into a consumer rather than a creator. It takes virtually no effort to turn on the TV, or click through the web. I can read, watch, and consume the creativity of others so easily. It takes effort and work to create. But there is something deeper; something more nefarious. 

It is easier and safer for me to consume the creations of others than to risk creating something myself and putting it into the world to be critiqued and ridiculed by an increasingly caustic and cynical culture. We delight in judging and mocking the creations of others. We have art critics, film critics, and music critics. We have fashion police who professionally mock even the simple creativity of clothing choices. We have elevated criticism to an art form...an art that actually discourages art. 

I am reminded of the words of Theodore Roosevelt:

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

I choose to embrace and express the creativity that God has given me. To rise above and expend the effort. To push down the fear of mockery and to put myself into my writing, my art. 

I choose to contribute...to create! 

Why do you do what you do?

I have received two emails recently that have puzzled me, and that is a good thing. The confusion forces me to engage with the questions they raise. Essentially, two trusted friends have asked me why I am writing. Both have observed that I am not going to get famous or make any money writing what I do as I do. (Particularly because I have designated that all royalties go directly to charity.) At the core, their the question was, "Why bother writing?"

It is a fair question. Particularly when I look at the sales of the last book, which have not gone through the roof. When two trusted people ask you the same question, it is worth a good think.

As I have pondered this , I have come to this conclusion: I write because God has asked me to write. Several years ago God broke into my life and specifically encouraged me to write. As a part of a spiritual retreat, I asked Him, "What do you want me to prioritize in this next season of ministry?" And much to my surprise He answered me. I have found it dangerous to ask God questions! More than once I have been surprised when He has spoken up and answered what I had intended to be a rhetorical question in my prayer times.

Unfortunately, He did not tell me what to write, nor did He promise me that anyone would read what I write. He simply told me to make writing a part of what I do. I spent the next 4 years doing everything except writing. I argued with Him, telling Him that it was pretentious of me to write. After all...who am I to write? I'm no John Piper, Dallas Willard, or C.S. Lewis. I told Him that I didn't have time to write, I was too busy doing other things for the Kingdom. I filled my schedule with people and projects and steadfastly refused to write. Eventually, I started to write little things and that was how this blog got started.

However, I found that I could not encourage others to move forward in their relationship with God while steadfastly refusing to follow His direction in my own life. My fears and insecurities did not go away, but I finally chose to stop resisting and procrastinating. I did not know what was going to come out when I sat down and actually started writing. I still had no direction from on High. But, as I started writing, the book Pursuit of a Thirsty Fool took shape. It was during the process of writing and re-writing that the opportunity for publishing suddenly emerged, and that was how I "accidentally" became a published author.

I do not know that the next book will see the light of day. I know that the process of writing the last one, and this one, has propelled me into the arms of God. This process has forced me to face my own weakness, fears, and insecurities. I have grown and changed in the process of creating.  God has used this process to draw me closer to Himself. God is re-creating me as I create.

I believe it is my job to write the best book I can. I work hard, I offer it as a gift to my King, and I trust that He will use it as He sees fit. If He uses it to impact one or a million, is up to Him. I like the way that Keith Green said it, "You do your best and pray that it's blessed, and He'll take care of the rest."


I don't write to be famous. I don't write to make money. I don't write to have an impact. I don't write because I think I have something profound to say. I write because I believe it is part of the work that God has prepared in advance for me to do. (Eph. 2:10)

Why do you do what you do?

Another Dog Blog

My dog just ate more of her bed.

I knew that something was wrong because she looked guilty and pseudo repentant as soon as she saw me. I went toward her and she immediately threw herself on the ground and turned over. As I approached I could see the fluff all over the floor and knew what had happened.

The irony of this is that scattered all around her bed are a dizzying array of chew toys: rope ones, plastic ones, bone ones, wooden ones. She enjoys those toys. They all show signs of her oral affection, but now they are neglected as she grovels before me. She is repenting for chewing the only thing in the room that she knows is off limits.Why does she do this?

Why does she choose the forbidden thing when perfectly legitimate things are all around her? She obviously understands that there will be negative consequences for her choice. That doesn't prevent her from doing it though. She chooses the thing that she knows is bad rather than the any of the many things that are good.

Why do we do this?