A Good Impression

I'm a huge board game nerd.  I have around one hundred and fifty serious games (not games that can be bought at any department store) in my personal collection.  There are many more games whether owned by friends, new releases or hard to find grail classics that I love to play also.  The whole experience of sitting around a table with friends for hours at a time being immersed together in an interactive themed universe is very enjoyable and to an extent fulfilling for me.  Even when I lose terribly, if the story we told together through our pursuit of strategy created epic moments of teamwork, brilliantly outwitting an opponent or best of all stabbing someone in the back to steal the victory away from them at the last second, (I'm looking at you Jacob.  Yep, I'm still on that TI3 thing.)  then I will remember those evenings with a smile.

All that aside, I've found that board games in general carry a very deep meaning for me beyond just the fun that I derive from playing them.  I figured this out recently when I did what a lot of board gamers do and tried to rate my top ten of all time.  Most of my favorite games have great theme to them along with really sound mechanics as well.  If a game has mechanics that just don't make sense or even worse favor luck too heavily, it usually is just not a very good one.  That aside I could not stop myself from rating this game as my favorite game of all time:

This game is my favorite of all time, and always will be, because of how I came to even know about this game at all.  A couple of men, and one in particular, invited me to play this game a couple of late Saturday nights after our youth group was over.  They showed me kindness by giving me something that very few other men ever gave me, genuine interest in my company and welfare.  They didn't just ask me how I was doing, pray for me at an altar call, and then send me on my way.  Though these guys did this stuff for me also, they gave me their personal time as well.  They invited me into their lives and shared something that they personally thought was fun and asked me to enjoy it with them.  They affirmed me as a person when I didn't think that anybody really even cared that I existed beyond filling a seat in a youth group.  More than just sitting down for an evening of butchering each other's units (as well as the names of many Japanese provinces!  so fun!), this game to me represents one of the first times that I ever felt like I belonged, particularly with other men.  

 The funny thing is, I had no idea how profound those times would be while I was still in the moment.  I did not consider these men to be the coolest people of all time, but they were available.  I did not always like every activity we did together, but they reached out and invited me.  I'm sure when they tried to help me spiritually both sides just left frustrated because I was too immature to really grow at all, yet all these years later I realize that those few weekend nights meant more to me and impacted me more deeply than the hundreds of sermons I've heard preached.  I'm not saying that God has never moved me to repentance and life change through a sermon, because He has, but I don't remember more than one or two of them.  Every single moment that this fatherless soul spent just playing a stupid game until the wee hours with just a couple of guys who cared still matters to me eighteen years later.  Seems like the return on investment and the kind of work the Lord accomplished through authentic brotherly affections was much greater than anything else I've ever known outside of the direct voice of the Lord to my heart.  Though the acceptance of these men did not fill the hole in my heart designed for God alone, it is one of the very few personal images I have of the Father's heart.

To the few of you out there that accepted me just as I was and pulled me in, gave me someplace to belong and made me feel like I mattered to somebody, even though I was incredibly annoying, thank you.  Your time was a more valuable gift than just about anything else I've ever received.                                                                                                                                                                   

I'm Sorry that I'm Not Sorry At All

How many times have I seen it as a parent?  I speak to my son about a behavior in his life that I don't like and his immediate response is, "I'm sorry."  This response is usually accompanied by a look of fear in his eyes.  Is trouble coming?  What will the consequences be?  This breaks my heart.  As I see more and more of the Father's love for me, I am able to purely love Maz more as well.  I am starting to care less and less about him doing what is right and obedient to me and more about him doing what will be best for his heart in relation to the Lord.  Many times these two things look almost exactly alike.  I am not saying that I am done teaching my son obedience and right living.  I am just done teaching him to obey me for the sake of him respecting me.  I want him to obey me because God says it is right for him to do so and he will be blessed because of it.  I want him to make good choices because he will incur less hurt in his own life this way and have a clearer path to a genuine relationship with the Lord when he is older.

More to the point, I started to realize just how many things in my life I do just because I am afraid of God being angry with me if I mess up.  They are not holy or good actions because they are born of flesh, not faith.  This fear has stunted my growth and choked out the true life that God has designed for me for years.  So many do's and don'ts that have been imposed by a religious institution fuel this.  In the zeal to create right behaviors, hearts have been imprisoned in fear and thus led astray.  Does it really matter if you do the right thing if you do it for the wrong reasons?  I think the parable of the prodigal son suggests otherwise.  

So here's the deal:  I cannot possibly keep every command of the Bible.  I never have and I never will, but God is still passionately in love with me.  So what should I do?  I will work out my own salvation by following the Spirit's guidance in my life.  When God says, "Okay son, it's time to set that aside now."  then I will set it aside.  When he says, "It's time to serve Me in this manner now." then I will.  I will obey in the confidence that He will speak to me and correct what He wants corrected in His time.  (see Is 30:19-22.  Interesting how the people do not cast down their idols until AFTER they hear the voice of their loving teacher guiding them in the path.)

Until then, I will enjoy my life just as it is and trust Him to change my heart.  So, I'm sorry, but I'm not sorry at all.

Strong

Nehemiah chapter eight verse ten is the famous one that says, "the joy of the Lord is your strength."

What the heck does that even mean anyway?  I've always just nodded along when this has been preached because it sounds great, but I've never experienced any life changing power from the truth that God must be trying to communicate.  Therefore, (yeah, I just pulled a Paul right there) I must be missing what this is really trying to say.  I've always heard it preached as a get off your butt and do what you are supposed to be doing because the joy of the Lord is your strength.  Amazing how we can turn God's joy into a burden.  That can't be right.

God has been bringing this verse to my mind all night, so I looked it up in the context of the overall outline of the book of Nehemiah and read through the chapter.  So here is my summation:

     God has sent his children back to reclaim Jerusalem after the captivity of 70 years.  Nehemiah led the people to victory over their enemies that tried to defeat them and stop them from building the walls of Jerusalem.  Chapter 8 picks up after the walls are built and the people have gone through a census.  Nehemiah has Ezra stand up and read the law from morning until the afternoon to all of the people that were of sound mind and able to understand it.  Verse 8 says they spent time translating it to everyone to make sure they understood it.  The response of the people to the law was weeping and mourning.  God's immediate response was to tell the people to feast.  To not weep because it was a holy day to him.  He was joyful and wanted His people to be also.  From here it is observed that Ezra and the Levitical priests were having a pow wow and discovered the text about the feast of booths.  They immediately began making ready to construct booths for all the people and proceed to celebrate the festival of booths (which was an observance to remind the people about wandering in the desert and celebrating God giving them the promised land.  Isn't God's timing amazing!)  This was the first time it had been celebrated since the time of Joshua which was many years earlier.  They read the scriptures and feasted for the week of the festival and had a solemn assembly on the eighth day.

This blew me away!  They are just getting settled in the new blessing of being free from slavery and taking possession of God's promise.  They want to start right so they inquire of the Lord on how to set a good foundation for the rebuilding of His community.  The law is read and immediately weeping ensues because the people know they are guilty.  God in His mercy says, "Don't weep!  Let's party!  I'm so glad to have you home!"

The joy of the Lord, His position of being delighted in them was their position of shelter, refuge and security.  The word strength here is better translated stronghold.  One of the definitions even means helmet.  I know my mind is definitely safe and protected when I think about God delighting in me.

WOW!

From now on I will always hear, "God being delighted in you is your safe place."

I feel invincible right now!

We know that all who are redeemed by the blood of Jesus are constantly be delighted in by the Father.  He loves us so much that He brought us into a place of perpetual safety and shelter:  His arms.  So wonderful!  Also the following chapters were the repentance of the people and the ratification of the covenant with them.  God's joy in His children led them to genuine repentance after He released them from the burdens of the law.  Again, the repentance did not come from the knowledge of the law, but rather from the knowledge of how great God's mercy was to release them from that guilt.  To top it all off God puts His seal on them and claims them again as His people through covenant.

What a wonderful, loving God I serve!

Free

I remember a time a year or two ago when I was invited to go to a large men's conference hosted in a Chicago suburb.  I went because I wanted to honor and try to grow my relationship with the man that invited me, even though I had very little interest in the conference itself.  I've been there, done that, and my life has always remained largely unchanged, thus making those type of events a waste of time to my mind.  I went anyway, because who knows.  Maybe this time it will be different I told myself.

It wasn't.  The whole experience only increased my growing distaste for and lack of ability to trust the institutional church in America.  I really did try to find God while I was there, but I was too busy trying not to throw up in my mouth from all of performance based freedom that was being preached.  If you just try harder, set better limits, and spend more time seeking the Lord for freedom you'll be the strong man that God has called you to be.  (Family Feud "X" popping across the screen right now)

So on the way home from the event, we stopped at an Applebee's with several other guys from the Michiana area who went also.  As the conversations progressed someone suggested we go around the table and share our testimonies.  My heart sank.  I still feel just as bound today as I ever have.  I've not been set free from anything.  What am I supposed to testify about?  I was one of the last people around the table, and when it came to be my turn I just said that I was still struggling with some stuff and didn't think it was appropriate for me to share when I could not pin point what God was doing in my life.  I have always struggled with this when it comes to testimonies.  Why share all the good God has done in my life in the past when I just keep ending up back in the pit of my own sin?

Several of the guys tried to encourage me to share, like they thought I was just being bashful, but I persisted on my pass.  One young man went so far as to tell me that I needed to get on my knees and seek Jesus right away because he thought that if I couldn't pin point something worthy of testifying about that I was not actually saved.

Let's fast forward to a couple of meetings into the new gathering God led me to.  We talked a lot about the book of Galatians one night and it struck home for the first time.  Any time in the past when someone would talk to me about Galatians 5:1 which says, "For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery." I always took it as a command to get free from sin in my life.  (Another huge "X" here)

This is where it gets good.  We talked about the enormity of God's love.  We talked about how it is only from God loving us first that we are even capable of responding with any kind of goodness at all.  Only by receiving the FREE GIFT of salvation and the Holy Spirit can we know God.  Only by knowing (experiencing!) Him, by a continual reception of this gift will any of us ever be able to walk by the Spirit.  After all, if any amount of keeping the law could have set us free, then Jesus would not have had to die for us.

The blood covering from Jesus' sacrifice is so complete that every sin ever committed past or future is already forgiven for those who believe in Him and choose to receive His gift.  I have heard it said that sin separates us from God, and while that is true of the unbeliever, Romans tells us that nothing can separate the believer from the love of God.  NOTHING!  It doesn't nothing except sin; it says nothing. His arms are always waiting to welcome us in, especially when we have blown it.  It is then that we most need Him, and He knows this.  Our sin does not scare Him.  Again I say it is only through letting Him fill us with His love that we will ever be able to turn our hearts away from sin.  Sure you may be able to change your behavior for a season, or maybe indefinitely, but God is not after your behavior.  He is after your heart!  If you stop doing whatever sin it is you love to commit, but you still love it and want to do it, have you really been changed?  Are you really free?  It is only after you can do whatever you want to and you choose Jesus anyway because you now see that there really is nothing better than being loved by Him that you are truly free.  You will never get to that point until you let Him love you in spite of the sins that you love.  It has to start with knowing that His love is so great that even on your worst and most sinful day His love for you will not change.  His arms will be just as open and ready to clean us up.  He is not angry with you.  He will not strike you down or turn you away.  The law has been fulfilled through Jesus.  All that is left now is for us to quit believing the deceptions that the enemy gets us to believe to keep us from turning to the only one who can fill us.  Receive the gift that can never be earned, then keep receiving it every day.  Don't ever try to earn it again!

His yoke really is easy and His burden really is light.  Never again will I try to be good enough for Him, because He has all the goodness that is needed for the both of us.  It is now my aim just to be with Him and let Him fill me with His love.  Fear will be progressively cast out, kindness and courage will become more and more of a natural response and hell won't stand a chance.

Affirmation

Life has really felt bad for a very long time.  Last night I went to a gathering of believers my wife told me about that was being led by someone who mentored me in the past.  I was (am) so hungry for an authentic gathering of believers.  Being me, I spent most of the drive up bracing myself for the discomfort of sitting in a room of people that would have to put up with the filthiness of my soul and whatever judgments they might rightly levy.

Lots of cool words from the Lord came forth last night.  Way too many for me to recount, but the two that were for me were much needed.  At one point, the man leading stopped what he was saying and looked right at me and said something like, "You need to stop worrying about how far you have been from God and stop grading yourself.  God says you are an A in His book."

Later on my way out, he pulled me aside again and shared that God told him to tell me that He thinks I am a wonderful father and that I do a great job with my son.

I have been living under so much doubt, but there is just something amazing that happens when your ears get opened to hear what God is saying.  Faith rises from the ashes of that doubt and starts to breath life into destruction.  Nothing seems impossible.  For the first day in years I was actually excited to be alive.

All in My Head

So if you haven't noticed, when I created this blog I replaced the pursuit of happiness with the body of Christ.  Both clever and meaningful in my own mind.  Unfortunately, my mind is as far as I seem to be able to make this switch.  I know in my mind that there is nothing more important than Christ and dying to myself for His Bride.  I don't do any of the things in my daily life that accomplish this.

I don't share the gospel with the lost.

I don't pour over the scriptures in search of spiritual food and the nourishment of my soul.

I don't visit prisoners, listen to widows tell me stories about the good old days or do their yard work.

I don't spend time with fatherless boys showing them how to be a man.

I rarely even do the dishes for my wife or turn off the tv long enough to play a game with my son.

I do exactly what my stepdad always did.  I come home from an exhausting day at work and fall into a pattern of comforting myself.  Eat, watch tv, play games, listen to music, and basically anything that allows me to live according to how I feel and hide away from truth for one more day.

Not only is this driving me crazy, but I think I'm actually starting to kill myself slowly.  I always thought life would get better as I got older, but entropy is in full effect in my heart.  I care less about everything good just about every day.  I still have huge hurts in my heart that just won't go away.  I am as selfish of a man as there can be.  Everything I do is somehow motivated by escaping pain or comforting myself.  Everything!

When I think about what I could do to change my life, I just get paralyzed inside.  Get rid of your xbox and tv.  Get rid of the internet.  Get a phone that only has talk and text.  Put yourself out there and pursue a job that doesn't make you feel worthless.  Stop taking shortcuts and compromising your integrity at the job you have now.  It all just seems so hard because I think about what I will be left with.  Nothing.

No guaranteed way to feel something good anyway.  It will all be based on others to take care of my feelings, and I don't really trust anyone anymore.  I don't trust God. I don't trust my friends to care for me in any depth, and I don't even trust my wife.  My feelings and perceptions form my reality.  A reality that I know deep down is flawed and broken to the highest degree.  I just don't know how to lay it aside long enough for God to show me who He really is and I am scared that when I do, He just won't do anything.  The quietness of God when I look for Him is the worst feeling I know.  Instead of healing the wounds in my heart, it makes them worse.  I know that God can't be wrong and I must be.  I just can't seem to break past my feelings.

I can only hope that God is still working some unseen plan to set me free from all that blinds me, because if it just comes down to sink or swim, I think I'm going to sink.

Stake in the Ground

Life is full of simple choices that have far greater importance than they appear to at first.  It's really been on my heart to do something as a family to get and keep us on the same page.  I've been absolutely astounded at the internal resistance I experience to developing simple disciplines.  So today, as soon as I got home from work and the fam was home from school, we sat down to read two chapters in the Bible and pray together.

I explained to my son what devotions were and why being devoted to God was important.  He tracked as well as a boy his age can as far as I could tell.  When it came time to pray together, Maz got really bashful.  He had this immediate resistance when I told him that we were all going to take turns praying out loud.  I remembered being terrified of saying the wrong thing or somehow messing up when asked to pray when I was younger.  I don't think I got over this until my junior year in high school when I started attending a daily prayer meeting before school.  I don't want my son to live in fear of talking to God. I pray that he doesn't struggle with law and perfectionism the way I have.

So I pushed him.... gently.  

I told him prayer was just talking to God about what was on his heart and that the only thing that mattered was that his prayer came from his heart.  It could be short, the words didn't have to sound good, it just needed to be out loud and from his heart.

My son prayed for a kid at his school that has been mean and bossy to him lately.  He asked God to help this other child be nice to the other kids at school.

I stumbled into a motivation for reading my Bible everyday.  I look forward to many more of these simple moments with both my son and wife over the coming years.

May God have his rightful place of priority in my home.

Hate Male

DISCLAIMER:

My father-in-law recently asked me to write a letter containing what I would say to my biological father as if he would receive it.  This is what came out.  I was mostly concerned with the catharsis of the process and just let it all spill out.  I did not want to interrupt the flow of my thoughts for the sake of making them more polished or clean.  I want to share this with those that will read this and help pray me through my search for who I am in Christ not who I am in the flesh.  There are some curse words that I HAVE NOT edited.  If that offends you, don't read any more.  

Dad,

I hate you.  I have nothing but utter contempt when I think of you.  I hate you for what you have done.  You entered into an adulterous relationship with my mother to please your flesh and bailed on us both when you found out she was pregnant.  You left us for your real family.  All my life has been spent bearing the scarred heart of a boy that was too worthless to be considered your son. 

I hate you for what you passed on to me.  All your cowardice and fear you gave to me.  You reproduced a coward.  All my life I’ve been afraid, and I never had anyone there to help me face my fears because your punk ass decided to run away like a little bitch.  I hate you for being a lustful pervert and for passing on the same legacy to me.  My only connection to you is that I am your bastard, born out of your sin.  I hate you for skipping out on the consequences of your choices and instead leaving me to suffer a lifetime of them for you.  How can you even call yourself a man? 

I hate you for the multitude of ways that you were never there.  You never tucked me in.  You never comforted my broken heart.  You never taught me how to fight or what was worth fighting for.  You never taught me how to respect a woman.  You never taught me how to seek God with my whole heart.  You never taught me how to be confident.  You never told that I could do anything I put my mind to.  You never told me that I was the apple of your eye.  Because of you, I have never known what it is to be the favored son.  I never adventured out as a cowboy.  I never fought as a warrior and I never loved with selflessness.  You never showed me how.  So how can I call myself a man when no one showed me how to be one?

I guess there is one thing you taught me, how to hate.  And just like you, I despise myself.  I can’t stand all of the you that I see in myself.  All of the ways that I just don’t measure up just about kill me some days.  How many days have there been where I just wanted to be dead rather than feel so worthless for one more day?  I hate you for not even caring how it would make me feel to be without you. 

For the debt that you left in your wake, for all that you owe me, I hate you. 

I FUCKING HATE YOU!!!!!!!!

Teth

This is where I want my heart to be.


Psalm 119:65-72

⁶⁵ You have dealt well with Your servant,

O Lord, according to Your word.

⁶⁶ Teach me good ^[z] discernment and knowledge,

For I believe in Your commandments.

⁶⁷ Before I was afflicted I went astray,

But now I keep Your word.

⁶⁸ You are good and do good;

Teach me Your statutes.

⁶⁹ The arrogant ^[aa]have forged a lie against me;

With all my heart I will observe Your precepts.

⁷⁰ Their heart is ^[ab] covered with fat,

But I delight in Your law.

⁷¹ It is good for me that I was afflicted,

That I may learn Your statutes.

⁷² The law of Your mouth is better to me

Than thousands of gold and silver pieces.

Back in the Saddle Again... or Maybe for the First Time

A couple weeks ago I started seeing a counselor for the third time in my life.  My motivation was to get some outside perspective on some of the open doors to the enemy's  activity in my soul.  We met at Culver's and talked for about an hour and a half.  Most of the conversation felt like I just met one more person who was concerned with my behavior and how simple it should be for me to just do better.  Awesome, more condemnation, just what I need.  I persisted to plead that all of the discipline in the world doesn't help you feel less rejected by God.  By the end of our time together he suggested that I just burn it all down and start over.  If I struggle so much with simple faith, maybe I just needed to approach God like a child and ask Him for it.  Ask for the gift of faith and know that it can only be received, never earned or "done right."

I spent a few times praying with this mindset.  I prayed the only real prayers I could muster and trying to ask God for what I needed without ordering Him around or treating Him like Santa Claus.  I read some in Romans this Saturday because I took on the responsibility of sharing the Word at my church gathering with a couple of my brothers.  It started that I only did it because I didn't want to let them down.  It ended up filling me up and strengthening my faith.  Did I mention that I nodded off several times while reading two chapters and ended up just going to sleep for two hours after I thought I read what I needed to,

Yesterday, while I was working, God spoke to me about receiving faith from Him as a gift.  He asked me if Maz could ever earn my love.  It hit me all at once that I have been trying to give God a reason to want me when he already birthed me.  I wanted to have a child before Maz was ever born and chose to follow the necessary steps to bring him into this world, because I wanted him.  I love him because he is mine.  No other reason.  My son can ask me for anything reasonable and I will get it for him or show him how to get it himself without even thinking.

This is the start of me believing for real that God is not like my earthly examples of fatherhood, but that I am in a poor way like He is perfectly.  He is all loving and kind, with nothing but my best in mind.  He will give me good gifts, not because I deserve them, but because I am His.

Holiness and faith are two of these gifts.  Holiness is a gift.  It cannot be earned, only received.

This is mind shattering for me.

I am holy because I am His.

His acceptance is not wavering or partial.

God has given me an amazing gift in my son in so many ways and now I have only to look at my love for him when I need assurance of God's love for me.   It's not even about me anymore, it's about my son.

From the Archives

I have been reading a book this week that has set on my shelf  for a decade.  I picked it up during my time in Master's Commission and got next to nothing out of it back then because I just wasn't spiritually mature enough to understand.  It smacked me in the face this time through and I couldn't even finish the first chapter on my first read.  Below are two of the paragraphs that I have been chewing on the most.  Oh yeah, the book is called Holiness, Truth and the Presence of God.

At some phase in each of our lives, we all will be confronted with the impurities of our hearts.  The Holy Spirit reveals our sinfulness, not to condemn us but to establish humility and deepen the knowledge of our personal need for grace.  It is at this crossroad that both holy men and hypocrites are bred.  Those who become holy see their need and fall prostrate  before God for deliverance.  Those who become hypocrites are they who, in seeing their sin, excuse it and thus remain intact.  Though all men must eventually stand at this junction, few are they who embrace the voice of truth; few are they indeed who will walk humbly toward true holiness.

Now for round two:

Jesus Christ did not come to condemn the world but to save the world.  Anyone can pass judgment, but can they save?  Can they lay down their lives in love, intercession and faith for the one judged?  Can they target an area of need, and rather than criticizing, fast and pray, asking God to supply the very virtue they feel is lacking?  And then, can they persevere in love-motivated prayer until that fallen area blooms in godliness?  Such is the life Christ commands we follow!

Quite a bit to chew on for me, simple as it is.  I guess my most present sinfulness is that I just don't want to give everything.  I want to protect myself against God because I don't trust that He won't push me beyond what I can bear.  I don't really believe that I will be more fulfilled after sacrificing all my comforts.  I need grace to see God for who He really is and to forsake this world and it's comforts.

I love the second quote for two reasons.  It does not focus on my hurts or needs.  It moves the focus outward.  After months of introspection, I conclude that outward focus is essential for my own mental health as well as my spiritual health.  Do I still need to deal with my own inward struggles?  Absolutely!  I am meeting with my mother tomorrow to talk about some things that have been bothering me for years, but it is with the intention of putting them to rest so I can move on.  Despite other unresolved issues, life should be about doing whatever I can to make the world around me better.  It should be about following Jesus' example and putting others first.

Lighter Fare

Most of my blogging recently (when I actually do it anymore) has been very dark or somber.  I had a great weekend with some friends and was able to share a greatly anticipated experience around my game table Saturday night, and I thought it was worth posting something fun.

 If you're close to me, you know that I have been talking about this game for months.  I'm not even going to try to be a game reviewer or cover anything in depth.  I just want to share how playing the game made me feel.  This game is something totally new to the gaming world.  My jerkface buddy Caleb won the first game by convincing me to help weaken the guy that was in the lead followed by Caleb going in for the kill.  I never saw it coming.  In this game, when you win it has rewards that go beyond just that game.  You get to make powerful decisions that reshape the board forever.  Even the losers get to affect the board in smaller ways.  It is so fun to play a board game that evolves.  For me, it's all about discovery, and beyond that, sharing that discovery with my brothers.

So for my guys that let me share this with you, thank you.  It lifted my spirits.  For my brothers that couldn't make it this time, maybe in a couple weeks.

I'm Terrified of Needing You

Please don't let my lack of reciprocation or seeking push you away.  All of my deepest wounds are based in rejection.  Every time I reach out, ask for help or even vaguely position myself to need you, I open myself up to be hurt again in the way that for me defines what it means to hurt.  So as I lay in bed, wired on the coffee I drank so that I would have enough alertness to enjoy time with my wife and two close friends, I realize that I desperately try to position myself to not need anyone and continually fail miserably at it.

Though I am unworthy of you, I need you.  Though I push you away, I need you.  Though I don't give you the credit you deserve and argue with you when you try to bring me truth, I need you.  Though I disqualify you in my mind as I find any flaw at all with your logic, attitude or execution of your motives, I need you.

I am not Uncle Sam, and I don't just want you, I need you.  I won't make it without you.  If you are a follower of Christ and God placed you in my life, I need you.  You are God's grace to me, and I desperately need you.

When What I Know Wrestles with My Deepest Fear

I had a conversation with my wife late last week that was largely about how I was doing in regards to being depressed.  I've been struggling a lot lately.  The following thoughts were the result of that conversation.

In John 6, Jesus reaches a pretty critical turning point in His ministry.  Up until this chapter, everything is about drawing people in.  At this point, He calls many of His disciples out on just wanting to see signs and goes so far as to say that they only believe because He filled their bellies.  He made their lives more physically comfortable so they think that He will continue to do things for them.  Even as He tries to turn their vision to something greater, they ask for a sign as proof of this greater thing.  His desire to know each and every one of them intimately becomes obvious.  He is pained by their desire to try to squeeze Him into the old current system.

It is obvious to those of us with the privilege of hindsight and the context of His ultimate sacrifice on the cross.  Was it really so obvious for them though?  I don't think it was at all.  Even His disciples that had been following him for awhile said that it was a hard teaching.  Translation= "What the heck is He talking about?"  Most of them ended up turning away.  Then the moment that defines this chapter for me occurs.  Jesus turns to the twelve and asks if they are going to leave as well.  Peter basically says, "There is no where else to go.  You are the only game in town.  We know that You are the Son of God."

I'm sure that whatever God is trying to teach me is painfully obvious to some of those around me, but to me it feels like being asked to be a cannibal.  What do You really want, God?  I just don't get it.  I can't see the truth.  Is this something that will make sense later as I'm sure this message did for the apostles after the resurrection?  Or maybe this is all about just hanging on?  Whatever the case, I have one comfort.

Just like the twelve, I know He is God.  Where else will I go?  Only He has the words of eternal life.  Maybe that is enough.  This chapter also says that He knows those that the Father has given Him and that they could only come to Him if granted it from the Father.  What disturbs me is what follows.

He says that He Himself chose them, and yet one of them was a devil.  He chose one that He knew would betray Him.  It terrifies me that not all that are granted sight to know that He is God end up in His arms.

I don't have hindsight or eternal context for my present situation.  How do I know that I am not one of the vessels that will be used up then thrown away?  God would be perfectly just in making a creation to serve His other creations and then dispose of it.  There would be nothing wrong with this  He is God.  He can do whatever He wants and it is automatically good.  I guess what I am saying is that I am confronting the deepest of my fears.  How do I know that He really loves me as His son?  How do I know that is really what I am to Him?  How do I know that He isn't just tolerating me for a time?

Regardless of my fears or feelings, I have only one choice--hang on or let go.  That's not even a choice for me.  I hang on.  I wait.  I hope for something better.  I hope for all the things that just seem too good to be true about His love for me.  I hope.

On Performance

"And what about you, Arvyl?"  Justin asked.  "What do you make of--"
     He stopped midsentence.  Ronin followed his gaze and saw that two children, a boy and a girl, crouched at the edge of the clearing, peering past a berry bush at the three warriors.
     They were looking at Justin, of course.  They always looked at Justin.  Children were always captivated by him.  These two looked like twins, blond hair and big eyes, about ten, far too young to have wandered so far from home at a time like this.
     Then again, he hardly blamed their curiosity.  When had such a battle come so close to them?
     Justin had already slipped into another world, Ronin thought with a single glance.  Children did this to him.  He was no longer the warrior.  He was their father, no matter who the children were.  His eyes sparkled and his face lit up.  At times Ronin wondered if Justin wouldn't trade his life to become a child again, to swing in the trees and roll in the meadows.
     This love for children confused Ronin more than any other trait of Justin's.  Some said that Justin was a druid.  And it was commonly known that druids could deceive the innocent with a few soft words.  Ronin had a difficult time separating Justin's effect on children from the speculation that he wasn't who he seemed.
     "Hello there, " Justin said.
     Both children ducked behind the bush.
     Justin slid from his horse and hurried toward the bush.  "No, no, please come out.  Come out, I need your advice."  He stopped and knelt on one knee.
     "My advice?"  the boy asked, poking his head up.
     A hand gripped his shirt and pulled him back.  The girl wasn't so brave.
     "Your advice.  It's about today's battle."
     They whispered urgently, then finally came out, the boy boldly, the girl cautiously.  Ronin saw that they each carried a wooden sword.  The girl was shorter and her left hand was bent backward at an awkward angle.  Deformed.
     Justin's eyes lowered to the girl's hand, then up to her face.  For a moment he seemed trapped by the sight.  A bird sang in the tree above them.
     "My name is Justin, and I..."  He sat down and crossed his legs in one movement.  "What are your names?"
     "Billy and Lucy,"  the boy said.
     "Well, Billy and Lucy, you are two of the bravest children I have ever known."
     The boy's eyes brightened.
     "And the most beautiful," he said.
     The girl shifted on her feet.
     "My friends here, Ronin and Arvyl, aren't convinced that I can single-handedly bring the Horde to its knees.  I have to decide, and I think that you might be able to give me some direction.  Look in my eyes and tell me.  What do you think?  Should I take on the Horde?"
     Billy looked at Ronin, at a loss.  The girl answered first.
     "Yes," she said.
     "Yes," the boy said.  "Of course."
     "Yes!"  You hear that, Ronin?  Give me ten warriors who believe like these two and I would bring the entire Horde to its knees.  Come here, Billy.  I would like to shake the hand of the man who told me what grown men could not."
     Justen stretched out his hand and Billy took it, beaming.  Justin ruffled the boy's hair and whispered something that Ronin couldn't hear.  But both of the children laughed.
     "Lucy, come and let me kiss the hand of the most beautiful maiden in all the land."
     She stepped forward and offered her good hand.
     "Not that one.  The other."
     Her smile softened.  Slowly she lowered her sword.  Now both hands hung limp at her sides.  Justin held her eyes.
     "Don't be afraid,"  he said very quietly.
     She lifted her crippled hand and Justin took it in both of his.  He leaned over and kissed it lightly.  Then he leaned forward and whispered into her ear.

Wind and Lightning

Wind and spirit are the same word many places in scripture used so interchangeably that sometimes it is not known which one is meant.  That God would associate Himself so closely with something so unseen and unpredictable is terribly hard for me to bear at times.

I have this image in my mind of a sailboat of old stranded in the middle of a windless ocean for days with its sailors with nothing to do but wait.  Or row.

When God's spirit is not blowing in my life, I feel forsaken.  I try to position myself better to catch whatever remains of the wind, but when even that goes still I give up.  I eventually get so tired of the lack of activity that I start rowing.  The biggest problem comes when I then distrust the wind due to its lack of predictability and choose to just row all the time instead of trying to catch the wind again when it comes back.  I don't think God ever intended for us to be rowers in this context.

Lightning striking the earth is depicted as God sending down His answers to prayers in scripture.  Pretty crazy when you start looking at just how often lightning strikes the earth on any given day.  Is there really anything else more unpredictable than lightning?  We know the situations that usually surround it (clouds blown in by the wind), but never its exact path.  Just look at it.  It's all jagged and erratic.

I struggle to accept the unpredictable nature of God.  I am finding that it is nearly impossible to have a fulfilling relationship with someone so unpredictable.  There seems to be only one way to make this happen--complete unwavering trust.  I use the word trust instead of faith on purpose because it makes so much more sense to me and faith is one of those words that is just caked up with the gunk of dead religious experiences.  

Trust is the path God has had me on for eleven years.  It is the most basic of all tenets of following Him and I still struggle to make much progress with it.  This much trust I am developing though, when I am weak, He is strong.  When I go the wrong way, He isn't pissed.  He is refusing to let me build a foundation on lies.  He is placing me on the high place of truth at all costs and pains and He is doing it as gently as possible.  He wants what is best for me way more than I want it for myself.  Just like I love my son, He loves me.  I must hold on to this one truth if I am to make it.

So, when I am struggling, does it show more trust to tell Him that I don't trust Him knowing that He'll understand or to try to launch out into something that I think is Him but to do so fearfully?  I guess this question boils down to another question.  Of motive and action, which is more important?

A Break in the Clouds

A dear brother texted me a word from God this week.  It was something along the lines of the correlation between how he saw himself in relation to God and how that reflected on how he treated his son.  He challenged me to allow myself to see God's view of me as the same as my view of Maz.  He specifically said that God is amazed by me.  This was hard for me to accept in that moment.  I have always accepted the theology that God is a good Father, but my experience has been so removed from that.  I have to admit that I have lived according to other beliefs.  As I have struggled with my set of abandonment issues, me not being good enough has been at the center of it.  Things like how I always let God down and slip into sin, how I just don't have that great of faith, and how I just can't perform like someone who is in love with Jesus should have been at the forefront of my thoughts.

Many times in the past week or two I have been amazed at my son and how his personality is developing.  His own sense of humor is starting to emerge instead of just completely mirroring mine or Melissa's.  I love it!  The passion that I have to love him relentlessly and represent the love of a good father to him fuel me to never let a day go by without expressing my love to him and to let him know that he is special.  Today, as we were walking in to my in-laws', I had one of those moments where he just said something so awesome to me that I welled up with love and actual amazement that my son is soooo stinkin, well, amazing!

I told him that I love him.  I told him that I am so glad that I get to be his dad.  I told him that I think he is just awesome and that being his dad is one of the best things in the whole world for me.

My brother's comment was quickened in my mind and heart at that moment.  I almost started bawling right there.  (One more moment where emotion that I would gladly have lived in for awhile was brought on in a moment that was not very conducive to it.)  I pushed it down, but held on to the thought that God must love me at least that much.

I have known and tried desperately to hold to the belief that all this darkness and hurt coming to the surface recently was God revealing something that He wanted to rip out of my life and destroy.  It's performance.

I am not a slave or a hired hand.

I AM A SON!

I got an answer to one of my why questions today.  Why do I have such a passion to be a good father when so many other unfathered men end up being unfaithful dogs just spreading seed and moving on?  I have a heart for my son because it is God's chosen portion of Himself that has been given to me.  It is His reflection to me of who He is.  I can trust this part of my heart because it is directly from Him.  I can trust that even in my imperfect state, God's love for me is at least as strong as my love for my son.

My love for him is the purest and most selfless love that I personally know and understand.  I don't think I ever really understood love until after he was born.  Something amazing was born in my heart at the same time that he was born into this world.

I understand my son.  I know when he is pushing the lines and when he is just being a kid.  I am patient with him.  I seek for opportunities to expand his knowledge of what is appropriate and what is over the line in all areas of life.  Most of all, I just love him.  I love to spend time just making him laugh because there is no greater sound in all the world to me than the delighted laughter of my son.  (That is not hyperbole.)  I love holding him close in a huge squeezy hug until he's like, "Alright, dad.  Let me down."

That's what I am to God.

I am His son.

The Years Between

John 5

The Healing at Bethesda

 ¹ After these things there was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem.

 ² Now there is in Jerusalem by the sheep gate a pool, which is called in Hebrew Bethesda, having five porticoes. ³ In these lay a multitude of those who were sick, blind, lame, and withered, [waiting for the moving of the waters; ⁴ for an angel of the Lord went down at certain seasons into the pool and stirred up the water; whoever then first, after the stirring up of the water, stepped in was made well from whatever disease with which he was afflicted.] ⁵ A man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. ⁶ When Jesus saw him lying there, and knew that he had already been a long time in that condition, He *said to him, “Do you wish to get well?” ⁷ The sick man answered Him, “Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, but while I am coming, another steps down before me.” ⁸ Jesus *said to him, “Get up, pick up your pallet and walk.” ⁹ Immediately the man became well, and picked up his pallet and began to walk.

I wonder what a normal day looked like for the sick man during those thirty eight years.  Do you think he thought that he would ever get healed?  Obviously he had some hope because he kept trying and positioned himself so that it was at least a possibility.  I wonder how many of those were just going through the motions.  I wonder how many of those years contained any joy in the midst of suffering.  

Two things about this passage I love: 

Jesus' compassion and the man's response.

The first explains itself.  The second sounds a bit like this to me when I read it in my head. 

"I'm doing the best I can here, but I'm on my own and just not strong enough to beat out the competition.  I have to keep trying anyway though.  What choice do I have?  I'm a Cubs fan.  There's always next season."

Seriously though, I wonder, even though I know it won't bring me any answers, what was the point of those 38 years and why didn't Jesus heal more of the people there?  

As I continue to ask my why questions, it comforts me to know that even Jesus asked God why.  

"My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?"

The Duality of "Why Me?"

Many times, especially recently, I have asked God directly, asked of others or simply wondered to myself, "Why me?"

Why was I abandoned?  Why did You choose me to be so stunted and weak?  Why am I not worthy of being loved and taken care of?  Why did You even allow me to born if You  were just going to make me worse than everybody else?  Is this some kind of cruel joke?

Anyone who can quote scripture can tell you that it is a mistake to ask these questions of God and that once my faith is strengthened I will see the futility of it.

Anyone who has gone through the depths of pain of loss or abuse knows that you can't not ask them.

Grief is a deep vacuum that continues to search for any answer to fill it.  No matter how hard you try to hold in these questions, they will come out one way or another.  It's best to just let them out.  Even though they may never be answered, it lays a foundation of honesty that is essential for moving on, right?

I've grown more comfortable with this concept of just letting myself be free to express or ask whatever I need to of God.  If I don't show Him trust in any other way right now, I think this expression of trust is the one He's looking for anyway.  So as I was again talking with some dear brothers as a release valve recently, another meaning of "why me?" struck me.

We were talking about how there are little to no men in the church that have survived this wound and gone on to live a victorious life.  So why me?

Why am I not in prison?  Why did I not end up completely unable to believe in God at all?  Why have I been able to hang on for so many years even though I feel like a complete reject every day?  Why haven't I abandoned God the way that I feel abandoned by Him so many days?  Why do I have an insatiable drive to love my son well so he never has to face these same wounds instead of abandoning my own family like so many men do in my shoes?  Why do I care about anyone at all besides myself and whatever makes me feel good in the moment?

The other side of "why me?" is the sufficiency of grace in action even when it doesn't seem sufficient to me.

God, You're a little too good at knowing exactly where the line is.

The Father Loss

Back in August, it was recommended to me to go through this book.  I was almost offended at seeing myself as a victim, but I could not argue with some of the insights about my behaviors that matched up with classic victim mentalities.  I've never been abused sexually or physically.  I struggle to call the things that have hurt me verbal abuse.  I do admit to being neglected.  None the less, I started to read and have slowly pressed onward as it started to hit more at home.

My conclusion so far:  the deprivation of a resource, substance, or ability that is necessary for healthy development is just as damaging as purposeful abuse in that it leaves the victim at a loss at how to go through life.

God is called our Father for a reason.  This is His design.  When a child grows up in a home with a loving father, it is natural for that child to understand that God is for them.  It fits for them.  It just makes sense.  God chose parents (both mother and father) to carry a part of His image.  Why would He do that if not to build into us from birth who He is?  His design, His plan is horribly marred when one of these elements is absent.  I can only speak from the aspect of the missing father because that is what I have experienced, but I would love to hear from anyone who has had the experience of dealing with the abandonment of a mother so I can better understand.

I never met my biological father.

He abandoned me from before birth.

My image of God is damaged because of this.

Just like my physical body would be underdeveloped if I spent my whole life getting little to no protein, my ability to understand God as a father and relate to Him is feeble at best and barely alive at its most accurate.  I have absolutely no idea how I am even able to still cling to the hope of one day knowing Him as a Holy Father.  I desire it so badly, but I constantly push Him away based on my skewed perceptions or just plain run away and "hide."  How am I supposed to run this marathon of life with a broken leg?  I understand that there are many out there that share my circumstance.  The problem for me is that I don't personally know any of them that are my age or older and that have successfully recovered from it.  I feel that much more alone and disadvantaged because God remains silent other than to tell me to keep digging and there is no one here to help lead the way through the darkness.  There is no one that has gone before me to impart to me the necessary wisdom to survive.  In my sphere of experience, I am blazing a trail and I hate it.

Never knowing your father seems very similar to me to losing a loved one.  It is a loss and it must be grieved.  So I share my grief here as I process it and will hopefully share my healing as God brings it.