Get To The End

A question has been rattling around in me brain today, almost since the moment I woke up: What do you find when you get to the end of yourself? When you have traveled down the road to self for so long what does life look like when you get to the end of yourself? For many I would think that the end isn’t until the end. But if that is true, then that person would have spent their entire life wrapped up in themselves, if the end of themselves isn’t found until the end of life (literally the end of themselves).

I think that perhaps one of the keys of this following Jesus thing is to get out of the way of myself long enough to see others. To see their needs, to cry their tears, feel their pain, and then to intentionally put their needs ahead of mine. I might be beginning to understand that we all have to die many deaths to get to the end of ourselves.

Isaiah said “Generous people plan to do what is generous and they stand firm in their generosity.” _{Isaiah 32:8 NLT}

I think that takes getting to the end of me.

Connecting Dad

Hey I have been away for a few days, ok a week and during that time away I was able to spend some time with my dad. It was great to get away and even better to spend time with my dad. As it worked out we got a day and a half alone together (along with more time with others around). We caught up on a lot of stories, played some cards, ate a lot of my mom’s pre-arranged meals. One of the things that I didn’t know was as a boy of 11 or 12 he used to spend time with his maternal Grandfather helping work on the railroad during the summer. This wasn’t a paid thing, just a hang out with his uncle and grand dad. My dad described his grandfather as a huge guy of seven feet tall and quite a scrapper. He said that with a name like “Pearl Longberry” he had to be. He said that he witnessed Pearl carrying two railroad ties on one shoulder for almost a quarter of a mile. I really think that it is important for people to know who they are, where they came from. It gives us a sense of connectedness with history, with family with a certain reality. I have been blessed to have parents that are still together (53 years) and still alive. I know that I haven’t been the greatest kid a keeping the relationship up and yet I have had so much more than many. We have lost almost all sense of connectedness and roots in our day and age. We need to eat together, laugh together, cry together, sit quietly, share stories, hunt, play, be. Get off of the jet liner and begin to walk a little in life. Invite someone over, turn off the TV, put down the book and live your life together!

Thanks Dad!

This Present Dying

Last weekend I didn’t come home on Friday night… well I didn’t come home because I was at a lock-in for high school students. At 8:00 Saturday morning after being up all night I limped home kinda tired. As I rolled out of my car, stumbled up the driveway and into the house my well rested bride met me at the door with a big smile and a statement/question: “You’re getting too old for those lock-ins?” My body was definitely agreeing with her assessment as I curled up and went to bed, but my mind going to protest until it realized that it had been shut down at 3 am in a fog of exhaustion.

And then (later in the week) I read this:

“…And as God's grace brings more and more people to Christ, there will be great thanksgiving, and God will receive more and more glory. ¹⁶That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. ¹⁷For our present troubles are quite small and won't last very long. Yet they produce for us an immeasurably great glory that will last forever! ₁₈So we don't look at the troubles we can see right now; rather, we look forward to what we have not yet seen. For the troubles we see will soon be over, but the joys to come will last forever.” _{2 Corinthians 4:15b-18}

Ahh! As Tony Compolo says: it’s Friday but Sunday’s a coming!

Farting In The Pew

My youngest son has a knack for falling asleep ANYWHERE! I have found him sleeping on the grass by the bushes, (at about 3) on the toilet (he recently told about a couple of classes during his senior year where he got quite a bit of rest that way) and, of course, in a church service almost every week of his young life. Once, during one of those church services, sitting on wooden pews, at about four years old, Ryan was sawing logs hardcore. (Drool would often drench my pant leg like a slow dripping faucet.) In this older traditional gathering we would often have to suddenly stand up while he was still sleeping which would bring about much confusion for the little guy as he struggled to stay in sleep mode. On one occasion he was leaning up against his Mom and during a particularly quiet moment he lets a LARGE burst from his shorts rumble off the wooden seats. I’m sure everyone heard it. While Ryan slept through the blessed event, his mom and I slithered down the pew to the comfort of the floor, covering our laughter and sudden embarrassment with our hands, (we sat near the front).

This past weekend I farted in the pew, so to speak. We were having a High School lock-in, (yes, at almost 43 I am a real idiot!) during which we have a small campfire outside. It was great. We laughed, told stories, had marshmallow wars and attempted to roast frozen hot dogs. Then someone reminded me that I wanted to burn an old broken couch so the students rushed in, got the couch and threw it on the fire to roast. Instead of roasting it roared, melting the vinyl siding off the building before we calmed it down. Well, this was a first in twenty some years of working with students, and to highlight the occasion Sunday Peter renamed me Pastor Pyro and we are planning on nailing the remnants of the siding up in the still standing Student Room! Ummmm, thank you God!

Dumpster Gifts

The gift came wrapped in maggot infested newspaper. The stench was unbearable causing gag reflexes to spring to life. You immediately place a hand to cover your nose and mouth as massive revulsion takes over the senses. Yet, amazingly the draw of the gift is unrelenting, even in the midst of the reality of the circumstances. Forced onward like an enemy combatant, you begin to peel back the wet layers of newspaper shaking the fetal flies from their gooey beds. Your eyes water as you swallow hard struggling to keep your lunch inside your body. Layer after layer slowly peels back from this hidden treasure. “I hope this is worth it,” you mutter under your breath. You have been digging for days, sitting in a dumpster mining for gifts that elude you. Trying just to understand this drive to open this unknown question. “I need to know, I need to understand, I need to get through this madness!” has been your driving force. Which on a minute by minute basis alternates with thoughts like: “I hate this crap!” “Why, God?” “Why can’t I have any peace?” “I can’t understand what is happening to me?”
All these questions have haunted you ever since it all began..... pain can make you crazy.

“there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. 8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Corinthians 12:7-10