Jesus

Jairus

In Sunday’s service, I stated a relatively simple but heavy truth that the Church almost always grows (in both width & depth) in times of oppression…but in prosperity, not so much. This has been played out and proven over history, and probably, our own lives.

In the book of Luke (8:41-42), “a man named Jairus, a leader of the local synagogue, came and fell at Jesus’ feet, pleading with Him to come home with him. His only daughter, who was about 12 years old, was dying.”

It’s not hard to vividly picture this scene in your head. He “came and fell,” “pleading.” His daughter is dying and he’s broken-hearted and broken, he’s poor in spirit. There’s nothing left to do, so he comes to a certain Rabbi, of whom he’s heard rumors. Who knows if they’re true, but he’s at the end of his rope. Imagine his face and footsteps. I don’t think he ran – maybe he did, but the word ‘fell’ brings images of heavy feet and slumped shoulders to me, of barely getting to Jesus before collapsing under the weight of such intense loss. He pleads, begs, cries, wails. “Help her, Rabbi, please help her!!” It’s 2 verses that are absolutely, totally devastating.

Now, maybe Jairus was always following Jesus, maybe he was one of the first followers. Maybe he knew Jesus, maybe he believed. But maybe not, and that’s what I imagine. If he knew him, believed, he would have come sooner. The Jairus in my head was skeptical, fell right into line with the Jewish teachers and Pharisees in his circle. Or maybe, even, he was decidedly not a believer. Instead, maybe he thought this Rabbi was a dangerous threat to his God and his religion.

But pain and suffering, oppression, lead us into some very uncomfortable spaces, right? We say & do things we might never say & do. We’re much more open minded, less likely to close any doors, more likely to open already closed doors. Jesus is a trouble-maker, but when her daughter is dying, what if it’s true??? What can it hurt?

Jairus asks. He seeks, He knocks. He cries out in his broken-ness. And God answers. When Israel is in Egypt and cries out, God answers.

When things are great, clicking along, the bills are paid, the sun is shining, we have a great tendency to forget. When we’re being promoted at work, we think we deserve it, we’ve earned it, we’re capable and strong. We know what to do. But when we’re fired, we’re lost, afraid, weak, and have no idea what to do or where to go. When we cry out for Help, God is far more apt to rescue us, than when we think we’re in control and so awesome we could never need/use any help from anyone.

To tell you the truth, as I’m thinking about it, Levi (Matthew) is a much more exceptional story. He was a guy who had a good job, power, lots of money, and when Jesus said, “Follow me,” he left that all behind. We’re probably way more Jairus than Levi.

Today is a gorgeous day, I slept great last night, and now I feel good and got a bunch done in the yard and my closet. I ate terrific pizza with my son for lunch. The Angel will be home in a minute. Today is a very good day. And I didn’t think of God too much, today. I said Thank You a few times, fleeting and quick. Sunday, I had a headache that woke me up out of sleep in the middle of the night, ibuprofen didn’t help, it was agony, and I spent hours in prayer.

The idea is that, whether we have everything or nothing, whether it’s sunny or sleeting, whether our bank accounts are overflowing or empty, whether our hearts are overflowing or empty, God is still God and loves us exactly the same. I bet this is the “secret” Paul talked about, except it’s not really a secret at all, it’s the secret practice of turning our hearts toward Jesus not only on Saturday, when it hurts, but also on Sunday, when we’re healed.

Next Steps

I have been making some small, significant changes in my life (maybe not all so small), and it has me thinking about transformation. We discuss the art of becoming quite a bit: when it happens, how it happens, why it happens… What provides the impetus for real change in our lives?

Of course, nobody likes change. There’s that true cliche that says “Change only happens when the pain of staying the same outweighs the pain of change.” Maybe we’re there. Maybe our lives have become unmanageable and we’re suffering, or maybe we just have that nagging sense that there’s more, a new, next step we are being called into, like a splinter in our minds or an anvil on our shoulders. Pain can look very different for each of us.

It’s interesting, this transformation is not something someone else can do for us. Our people may see the reality, or the invitation, just as we might have in their lives, but the next steps (if they are to be authentic and lasting) are ones into which we can’t be coerced. Anakin Skywalker, before Darth Vader, speaking to his love, Padme, says, “Together, you and I can rule the galaxy. We can make things the way we want them to be!” This is the lie of control. Anakin believes he knows the right answers for everyone (we probably have made this assumption before, as well, right?) and should force them to make the “right” decisions. He believes he can and must decide their path, but our path is ours to take with the Spirit inside us, with Its prompting, courage, and strength.

So, what is our path? What are our next steps? Your next steps aren’t mine to take, or to direct, any more than mine are yours. Our only responsibilities are to have our eyes open, honestly, to recognize this call – both from and into – and then consider the step. (Today the step might only be to consider taking it, starting to think about starting to think about moving, or it might be to actually jump. Who knows?)

Sunday is Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week, and we’ll begin a conversation about the choice the people of Jerusalem had: Pilate and the Roman Empire, OR Jesus Christ & His New Kingdom? It’s the same choice we all have, in every moment. Do we want to continue walking the way it has been, the way it is, or are we willing to join the revolution of God and enter a new creation?

What better time could there be to imagine a new world? Easter, the celebration of new life. What could our new life in Him look like? Where is He calling us, who is He calling us to become?

And I bet, like me, you’re caught in an avalanche of distraction and disturbance. The alarm bells are ringing, the wheels are shaking, every side is clamoring for your attention. It’s like how the text message notifications ring the very moment you sit down to read, or how you remember the laundry when you sit down to pray. The enemy of our transformation is often preoccupation, for whatever Very Important Reason.

How about if, this Easter season, we try to notice where we are today (yes, I know it’s hard and it might sting), and imagine where the next steps might take us? They just might take us on the ancient road to an empty tomb, where we can finally find ourselves, and the life only He can give.

[And, as always, we do this together – as says the song lyric that often closes services, “Let’s take this one step at a a time, I’ll hold your hand if you hold mine.”]

Details, pt 2

The site prompt is asking me to share about one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten, and before we continue…well, maybe it’s not “before,” maybe it’s all related in the same conversation. Anyway. For Christmas this year, the Angel gave me 2 canvasses (canvi?) of pictures she had taken from a vacation beach trip, and on those canvi, there were words. The first one held my wedding vows to her, from May 2001 (I still have the original paper I read from at our ceremony.) Her vows, sadly, were lost in the flood that took everything else we owned. Still, that second canvas also had wedding vows, but these were newly written, from December 2025. How is that for “one of the best gifts” any human being has ever gotten??

Now, moving on. Yesterday’s post was about the details of our lives that affect the sorts of soil we are, and are becoming. Then, this morning, today’s Bible In A Year reading is in Leviticus. I recognize that nobody likes Leviticus. Many of us are commenting (more like complaining) on the endless lists of instructions at the end of Exodus, and I always want to say, “just wait til we get into Leviticus.” I’m no different, I don’t like Leviticus, BUT it also happens to be one of my new favorite books. This super boring, repetitive list of commands has a vital message for our lives, then, now, and forever.

Why are there so many instructions, why so much detail, why does this matter so much (and it obviously does), and why do these commands matter now, at all? Why are we reading this? Why should I care, thousands of years later?

We live in a world of “good enough.” The smallest amount of effort is good enough. The minimum effort necessary is fine, just get by, don’t try too hard. As even Solomon says in Ecclesiastes, “avoid all extremes.” This philosophy is the polar opposite of the people we read about in the Scriptures, who left everything behind to follow a new Way of living. Who could ever have been more extreme than Jesus?

Leviticus, and the parable of the soils, ask for our attention to who we are, who we are becoming, what we care about, and what we believe about ourselves and Our God. Essentially, (in addition to the overwhelmingly detailed sacrificial system, and the overwhelmingly detailed weights and measures of the Tabernacle in Exodus), they’re all asking what we’re giving to God. What is our offering? And, as we all know, the offering, the level of gratitude, implies a value to the gift and the Giver. Are we giving the first, the best, or simply what’s left?

The Tabernacle was the early precursor to the Temple in Jerusalem, which was the early precursor to the current Temples, which are you and me. Do you think the lengths and widths of a tent or building are somehow less important than the details of our lives? That the Temple mattered then, but not now? Judging by the Bible, the very Word of God, everything matters.

If that’s true, if 1. Everything matters, and 2. How we do anything is how we do everything, then what does that mean? If we give scraps to our job, then it’s probably not the only place we give scraps. What do our spouses, children, friends, co-workers, cashiers at the grocery store, servers, neighbors & enemies, get from us? What kind of soil are we in our home, community and the world? Do they know Who we follow?And do they know His tremendous value to us? As far as that goes, do they know their value to us?

He is never asking for perfection, just the best we have to give, in any and all situation. Our first fruits. Of course, all situations are different, what we have to give might be different from moment to moment, but way too often, we slide along, at the lowest possible plane, trying not to break a sweat.

I think Exodus, the Tabernacle, Leviticus, food & sacrificial laws, the canvi from the Angel, our posture towards each other, the way we express our love (intentionally and without condition or limit), Saturday nights and Tuesday mornings, all testify to the Truth that scraps are not, and have never been, what we’ve been called into. There is an honor and dignity to this awesome experience of being human, and some things, like the scraps, the crumbs that fall from our table, are simply beneath us. Sometimes, the biggest, most significant changes begin with small, seemingly inconsequential acts. Sometimes, an empty tomb and a brand new creation begin with a baby in a barn.

Yesterdays

Today is Monday, and yesterday, we studied a passage in Ecclesiastes that carried some really massive ideas. And those ideas asked some questions that we usually try our hardest to avoid. Obviously, Great Big Ideas with questions like sledgehammers aren’t reserved for Sundays, or for just yesterday. They can come & break the door down any of our yesterdays, if only we are open to receive – or as the Bible says, if we only have “ears to hear.”

Maybe we can talk politics and what it means to respect the authorities…or maybe we can talk about the times to not do that…maybe we can wonder if it’s principle or rebellion that drives us, or what our hearts are overflowing with, flowing out into the world, getting all over everyone and everything… But I don’t really want to, not here, not today.

What I do want to talk about, here, today, is about the 2 Gospels/gospels that are constantly vying for those same hearts. Because, probably, the one we choose dictates what actually overflows, what we are giving, what frequency we are emitting.

The first is the Gospel of Jesus Christ. This is one of grace, forgiveness, kindness, goodness, gentleness, humility, faithfulness, that has one central tenet: love. Namaste means the image of the Divine in me sees and affirms and honors the image of the Divine in you. We see we are all made in the image of God, all fallen, all redeemed by His grace and love alone. (Of course, for as long as we need to, we can choose to not accept this gift.) We see each other as brothers and sisters, free of judgment and hate. We’re not all stepping on each other for a bigger piece of the pie – we recognize we don’t deserve any of the pie, and yet, His abundance is infinite, which means we can all have all the pie we want. Our winning isn’t based one another’s loss, we all win. We are grateful.

The gospel of me says that I am the center, I am better than you, my opinions, wants, & needs, are the primary concern for everyone. I demand assent. Maybe I will love you, if I want to, if there’s something in it for me. The divine in me sees you. The basic tenets are comfortability, pleasure, ease, temporal happiness (mine, not yours, unless yours happens to coincide with mine.) All of the -isms (racism, sexism, etc) exist here, because they all are based in the core belief: I am better than you. [We don’t acknowledge that this gospel is tied together with a dangerously thin line, because this arrogance is only superficial. It’s not grounded in confidence or esteem, it is insecure, fearful, overwhelmed with its own inadequacy. This is why, with this gospel’s worldview, I am so myopic – I worship a very small god. And I am mean & angry. I am very very angry.]

The very interesting thing about all of this, is that we have a choice. Deuteronomy says, “I set before you life or death, blessing or curse. Choose life.” Some see God as like the ocean we swim in, but I think this verse exposes the flaw in that metaphor. You see, the ocean doesn’t care if you drown, not even a little bit. It’s completely indifferent to your survival, much less your fulfillment or joy. With those 2 words: “Choose Life,” this God shows His heart. He wants us to swim. But we can, and do, choose…

We decide a million times a day, in every moment, which Gospel/gospel we choose – the Gospel of Jesus Christ or the gospel of me. The part that I don’t always like to admit is that we display that choice with our faces, words, posts, and lives, no matter what we might call it. Everybody can tell, usually the only one we’re fooling is ourselves.

So, what could it look like if we all swim? If we all chose to love each other, no matter what? If we chose to honor each other, and if we all just ate all the pie we ever wanted, at the same table, together? I’d really love to find out. I’ll go first.

Thinking About You

I don’t always sleep great, and sometimes, that leaves me watching documentaries in the middle of the night. Last night/this morning, I watched one on Amazon called The Hobby: Tales From The Tabletop, about the subculture of people who play modern board games. I say modern, because it wasn’t about Monopoly or Operation, the new games are strategic and complicated, with pages & pages of instructions. They’re more D & D than Scrabble, more Call of Duty than Pac-Man. It was terrific, I love stories that are so quintessentially human.

And it made me think of the Bridge.

Last night, at Open Door (the church’s prayer ministry/group/meeting), we sat and talked, laughed, openly shared our circles, the people that mean so much to us, and what we/they are going through. The things we talk about are, in turns, heartbreaking and joyful. The only requisites are honesty and vulnerability.

Just before that, I sat in a men’s group. Earlier in the day, I spoke to my sister in the parking lot of the tapioca shop near my house – 2 things I do every Tuesday. I know the cashier’s names and they know mine. The day before, I had a 2 hour lunch with a friend I have known since we were born. After the documentary this morning, after the Angel left for work, I went to the gym. Tonight, I’ll go to a college basketball game. But before that, we’ll meet one of the Angel’s closest friends (when I think & talk about how much she’s brought into my life, these people are near the top) for dinner. Every single one of these things have an activity in their center, but the activity is completely superfluous. It’s the who that matters far more than the what.

I often reference a passage about the prophet Elijah. He’s alone, broken, and crying out to God, Who doesn’t answer any of his questions. Not one. But what He does do is point Elijah to town, where he can find some buddies. When I first read it, it sounded like God was profoundly misunderstanding what Elijah needed, maybe being intentionally unhelpful. But now, I see. The only one who was misunderstanding Elijah’s needs was Elijah. God created Elijah (and you and me and our neighbors and everybody,m everywhere, forever) and knew perfectly well how much he needed people to play board games with him.

How many years have I wasted allowing friendships to fade, not returning phone calls and not reaching out? How many times have I cancelled meetings and missed moments, simply because I forgot (or ignored) what my heart & soul were obviously seeking, what gifts & opportunities God was very obviously providing? How many tears have I cried, desperately needing comfort and connection, but always pridefully crying alone? And how about the wonderful things I kept to myself, about to burst?

So, this is why I thought about the Bridge. I see we’ve been building a great big beautiful ball of knotted yarn, where it’s impossible to tell where you stop and I begin. Now, my celebrations and sufferings are yours, yours are mine. We are a family, with all the love and complexities that families carry. We are the living, breathing illustration of God’s love, wisdom, grace and mercy towards Elijah. We are the small, humble question and His answer, the call and His gift.

Maybe God will answer all of our prayers in exactly the way we want, the way we ask them at Open Door. To one situation, I said, “well, that’s what I want and that’s what I’m asking for,” and we all laughed. But who knows, maybe the answer will be “Yes.” But it’s hardly the point, in sort of the same way the lunch and tapioca and basketball aren’t the point. (Our prayers are closer to the point than the tapioca, but the gift is never more important than the Gift-Giver, the One we pray to is always more important than the prayer.) He’s already answered all of the deepest prayers we too often leave unasked, He’s answered them with each other, with people to love and be loved by, with His love & redemption, with new life.

So, I watched this cool, weird documentary thinking of you, my community, my family…I am overwhelmed with gratitude, and I just wanted you to know.

Peace

It’s an interesting dilemma that I’m faced with, right now. I want to write and post, I want to connect with you, but at the same time, I want us all to be as far away from our computers and phones as we possibly can. But you know what? Sometimes, this is what we have, so we’ll take it with joy and gratitude.

We have a Christmas Eve service at 7pm on Christmas Eve.

Last night, I live-streamed the first part of the Christmas message (on YouTube, The Bridge Faith Community), and I even got to say, “smash that like button.” It was called 1,000 questions and 1 Mind. I’ve been leaning into the questions we might have about this season, this holiday, why we do what we do, and what it means. They’re the questions that we all have but might be a little too self-conscious to ask and/or explore. We sound uninformed to ask, “why?” and it sounds silly to ask why these trees are in our house, and why we chose December 25th. And, especially, it sounds bad to say, “why do I care about this?” doesn’t it? But, we’ve probably all thought all of these, at one time or another, so I’ll say them for us. We’ll answer those 1,000 questions, and you’re welcome – more than welcome, you’ll be accepted and you’ll be loved – to come and celebrate with us.

At the end of the message, I spent a few minutes talking about the idea that has been weighing heavily on my heart. If we are called to be peacemakers, then why are we choosing so often to not make peace? For whatever reason, we have some broken relationships, some unresolved issues, some places where we have not forgiven, not given grace, places where we have not loved. And these things are magnified around the holidays (especially this one.) One of the lessons we can learn from the incarnation, His coming to be “with us,” is the imperative for those of us who would follow Him, to also go first.

Go first? At what? Yes. Anything. Everything. Pick up a phone. Say sorry. Say I love you. Extend your hand, your arms, your heart.

There’s a tv commercial for Uber that makes me feel so silly and so soft. The idea is that a girl and her father left on terrible terms, we see clips of this conflict, hear his phone call to apologize (sort of), and the through thread is the girl riding in her Uber to go home. When they see each other, they embrace and I’m not sure what happens after that, because I’m crying by then. But who goes first, here? Both. He calls. She gets in a car to see him.

Where can we go first? Maybe we could look for spaces where we can bridge gaps? Maybe this Christmas, Jesus wouldn’t be the only one in pursuit of the ones He loves so desperately? (And just to be clear, “the ones He loves so desperately” are you and me and your neighbor and the cashiers at the Walmart…well, rather than type everybody I can think of, it’s everyone. Everyone, every single one, are the ones He loves so desperately. There’s no one that isn’t.)

So, I’ll see you tomorrow evening, unless you’re making peace or smashing all of the obstacles that divide. In that case, I’ll see you when you’re finished. Merry Christmas!

Christmas…

As I’m sitting down to write this, to connect, to take a breath and focus, I’m thinking that isn’t an easy thing, to find any kind of time, is it? We have so many demands right now, on our hearts, homes, schedules, and bank accounts. And if you know me at all, you already know what I’m going to ask:

How do we decide what gets our attention? How do we prioritize what we prioritize? Or, maybe a better question is, are we deciding, or prioritizing, at all? Or just allowing our lives and this particularly busy season to run us over?

My youngest son is coming home from college for 2 weeks, before he gets on a plane to fly to Texas for his team to play basketball. My oldest son is taking some time off to spend at home with us, as is The Angel. We have family Christmases, shopping, dinners, and, well, all the things everybody has now. It’s awfully cold, which adds that uncomfortability, and apparently, the Christmas decorations in Pennsylvania aren’t colored lights and trees, but orange cones and construction signs.

The point is, if we don’t practice some level of mindfulness, this season easily runs us over, and then, it’s January and dark and we’re wondering where the time went. I always tell the people I get to marry, “the saddest thing I see is when the couple gets so overwhelmed in the day, thinking about anything & everything, and afterwards, they think about the day and don’t remember a bit of the ceremony where they got married.” And the more I think about it, that applies to so much more than a wedding day.

I’ll sit down on Saturday with The Angel’s family, we’ll open presents and eat terrific food with people we actually like. (What a blessing it is to like those we love, right?) Then, we’ll leave and not see some of those people again until next year. It’s a huge opportunity squandered to miss it, thinking about anything else, allowing any of the 1,000 things that are fighting for our attention to distract from those in front of us.

I considered taking a big break from these posts. But I won’t, because the connection with you is important. Hopefully, the many moments I take to write can lead to a few moments of peace for you to pause the spinning wheel to read.

That’s just one of the things I am choosing. Only you know what all is fighting for you. What are the items you’ll choose? They certainly won’t be the ones I choose, and that’s perfect. We’re very different, we have different families, schedules, concerns and possibilities. We just need to choose. Let’s not let one more day, one more moment, pass that we miss, simply because our bodies, minds, and hearts weren’t in the same place.

Now. One last thing I’d like to suggest. Every second, our bodies, minds, and hearts should be in the same place, but maybe we could spend the seconds of this month in the place where we are celebrating the birth of a God Who would save us all. Maybe we could spend these seconds in gratitude. (And I say that knowing some of us have so much sadness, and emptiness that the season magnifies – what I have learned is that the sweetest gifts we are given are each other to hold and cry with, and often times that is all we get, and it will have to be enough.) Maybe we could turn our attention away from the presents under the trees and toward the presence we give freely to each other. And most of all, toward His presence, His love, in our lives, our relationships, and our world.

A New Thought

I read a New Testament passage and an Old Testament passage every day. It’s study, but not really specifically for any sermons, mostly just for me. Sometimes, it turns into something more. Other times, I just copy verses in my notebook and maybe write any thoughts I might have on them. I’m in 1 Corinthians and Isaiah, now.

Today, Isaiah 61:1-2 read, “The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, He has appointed me to bring Good News to the poor, comfort the broken-hearted…announce that the captives will be released, the prisoners will be freed, and the blind will see…He has sent me to tell those who mourn that the time of the Lord’s favor has come.“

This sounds familiar because it appears again in Luke 4, where Jesus (at the beginning of His earthly ministry) goes into a Synagogue, unrolls a scroll, and reads this passage. It’s a goosebumps moment. Imagine if you were there, and this is happening in front of you, that a man comes as a teacher, and reads from a book you have known, about prophesies you have been waiting to see fulfilled, and makes the “me” about Himself. We have the benefit of hindsight, we know what is happening, what will happen, and most importantly, who He is. But imagine if we didn’t. Imagine if it was only a possibility. Could this be the One we’ve been waiting for?

Anyway, I love these kinds of moments. But today, I’m seeing this passage in a new way, connected to the path we’ve been on.

Sunday, we talked about 1 Corinthians 13 (incidentally, not where I am currently in 1 Corinthians – I’ll get there soon) as a statement on what it looks like to live & move through our lives as Jesus followers, in love (patiently, kindly, etc). This is a new branch of the same tree to be included in our self-examination.

We are called to bring the Good News – are we? To comfort the brokenhearted – are we? To announce that the captives will be released, the prisoners will be freed, that the blind will see – are we? To testify that the day of the Lord’s favor has come – are we? We are to do all of these with our hearts and bodies, as well as our mouths.

So, I know this is a 2nd post in as many days, but living an awake/aware existence today, here & now, leaves us in a peculiar position. We are saddened, broken daily with the behavior of our brothers and sisters, as well as our own. We feel powerless to change. And it is too easy to get caught up in this downward spiral of vitriol and violence. We need a way out, light in this increasingly dark tunnel. How can we do this? How can we find beauty and truth, even in this? How can we BE that beauty and truth, even in this?

Am I loving? Am I choosing to act like a walking, talking, breathing 1 Corinthians 13? (Now, if I say no to that, then there are different questions, I suppose. Or not. Maybe we are just deciding to use the tools of the enemy to fight back, following the same patterns that created such a mess. As King said, “Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”)

We can choose to love each other, no matter what. (And it’s the “no matter what” that is such a high, treacherous mountain to climb.)

And we can choose to bring the Good News, the one true Gospel of Jesus Christ, with every thought, word, and deed. Are our words (and posts) announcing freedom and sight? Are we pointing to the life He gives?

I sat in the stands last night at a basketball game at Lycoming college, thinking about everything that was happening. The boys (young men) using the gifts they have been divinely bestowed, the coaches teaching them, the service of the referees, and those of us in the bleachers all together in one giant mixing bowl. Was all of it loving? Was all of it praise, worship? Of course not…

But some of it was. And that’s what’s so cool and hopeful. We can change our present (there isn’t any changing our future – the tomb was empty and God wins), we can choose a new path. It just takes our submission. It just takes us taking our thoughts and actions and bringing them into (or at least closer to) His will. We can love, and we can drive out this hate. All it takes is everything, and it starts right now.

[That’s the end of the post, but Thursday is Thanksgiving and I wanted to wish you all a very Happy Thanksgiving. I am truly grateful for you, in every way. I’m grateful you read these posts. I’m grateful to walk alongside of you, to build my pyramid scheme of love with you. – And one last thing, I said, “all it takes is everything,” right? I am fully grateful that the “everything” we are (and have) is from His strong, loving hands.

Ok, 1 last, last thing: When I think about His grace and mercy on my life, I think of my 2nd favorite children’s book, “Horton Hatches The Egg,” and how often the last line appears to have been written specifically for me. “And they sent him home happy, 100%” Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.]

A New Submission & Thoughts on It

I received a new submission to this blog, and I’ll share it in a minute (with my thoughts).

But first, I do want to tell you that I am still reeling, still taken apart by Sunday’s message on 1 Corinthians, chapter 13: the love chapter. The simple fact that it is a choice, a decision we consciously make, is overwhelming. When I act in an unloving way (impatient, unkind, easily angered, keeping score/record of wrongs, etc), for whatever reason, it is a rejection of Jesus’ role in my life, heart, hands, feet & behavior. – reading over that paragraph, it sounds jumbled and full of side comments, paths & parentheses. I’m not cleaning it up, because that’s exactly how I feel.

Now, the submission (from an anonymous author):

“Lee and Annette Woofenden indicate the possibility that a happily married couple, under certain conditions may be reunited in Paradise. In a message entitled, “Loving Jesus More Than Life” by John Piper, dated November 23, 2015, he refers to Matthew 10:37 “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me” and “Whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”

If our desire to enter Heaven is based on wanting to be reunited with a happily married spouse and that desire exceeds waning to enjoy the love of Jesus, we risk losing the thing we desire due to incorrect priority.

Jesus is aware of our love for a spouse. If we love Jesus foremost, He will provide a love relationship for a spouse or parent or child.”

I don’t know if you remember, a few months ago, we received another submission that was posted (September 22, 2025, “Til Death?”) on a similar subject. This one has a slightly different tone.

“Till Death?” details the unselfish, beautiful, covenantal marriage relationship that could (and that’s all we really have in our limited knowledge, isn’t it? a “could.”) endure forever and ever in paradise. Here, the thoughtful writer explores the “risk” of an “incorrect priority.” It is as if he goes down a path, then, satisfied, wonders if the path is the right path, ultimately deciding that whatever the path, the love of Jesus must be “foremost.” I don’t know, so this is only my imagination, but it seems like a person wrestling with the Scriptures and his/her place in them.

We can (and often do) read the Bible and, if it doesn’t agree with our opinions, we toss it aside. We want the Bible to submit to our will, instead of the other way around. Seemingly, this person isn’t content to leave a thread of faith, and his heart for God, unexplored. And if his faith & heart don’t line up, then he/she will take any level of demolition and reconstruction to make sure it does. It’s a beautiful picture of a marriage to a spouse, and even more so of a marriage to His/Her Creator/Savior.

I now see that’s what is ravaging me about this week’s love message. I don’t always want to act in a loving way. I want to be impatient, I want you to know what you did wrong and apologize. When you hurt me like this, I want you to change. I like the adrenaline of anger. I really, really like to be right. I lose hope. And I can give you a million reasons why, and for at least a hundred of them, you’d agree with me. You’d think I am justified in my un-love.

And this beautiful Bible… And the words, life, death, resurrection, and heart of Jesus, to all of my well-thought arguments, listens patiently, nodding along, validates my feelings, maybe He weeps at my broken heart & spirit (just like He did for Mary & Martha), but He hears me, really hears me, and then I imagine He looks me straight in the eyes HE created for me, and softly, tenderly, says, “Yeah, about that. You know how much I love you, but I don’t care about that at all. You’re going to love them anyway.”

He knows I will. I will choose Him, choose love. So I try. I mean, I will, eventually (because there is only “do or do not, there is no try”).

We don’t get it right today, or all the time, we just keep showing up – to Him, to each other, to ourselves. And as our anonymous author shows us, if we can just not give up, He leads us to the right answers.

Wings

One day last week, at a college basketball game, the Angel and I watched our boy play. He played very well; unselfish, aggressive and with an intensity that may have been surprising if you had not watched his commitment over the past several years, alone in the gym, in the driveway, or outside on the local courts before the sun came up. This was awesome, but it was not the best part of our evening. We were also relayed stories of how he is fitting in, as a great teammate, and an “even better human.” Then, after the game, we walked to our car with him, his girlfriend, and his best friend. Once we were on the road (following a really terrible route from the GPS), I texted how beautiful I thought this circle of friends was, that he’s creating….How beautiful this life was, that he’s creating.

The next day, the Angel and I attended our older son’s workshop for a family dinner party. We sat, barely getting time to eat, as we were flooded with stories of who our boy is. He’s kind, respectful, funny, strong, and sweet. When we got home, I told him how proud of him I was, about this man he’s becoming, this life that he is creating.

You see, he has always been this person. He has always been kind, respectful, funny, strong and sweet. He’s one of the best I’ve ever had the privilege to know, how much more to live with him and watch him every day. My prayer has always been that he fully step into who he is, every part of himself, authentically, and let that out, just open himself and get it all over everyone. It has been my prayer for his brother, too.

The boys we know so well have not always been public. To use a phrase from the Bible, they have sometimes hidden their blinding light under hesitant buckets. We want the world to experience the blessings we have.

It’s hard, probably impossible, to fathom Who God is – His patience, forgiveness, grace, and love. Sometimes, all we have is our own experience. And this is sort of how I imagine God feels, when we put on our authentic selves and start to become all of who He has created us to be.

My boys are different, sometimes wildly so, in their personalities, desires, ambitions, talents and gifts. Who they are growing into are not clones of each other, there aren’t molds they comfortably fit. It’s like that with us, too. You are not me. We are not carbon copies of anyone else. (We are all equal, in Him. He loves us all the same, as sons and daughters. But loving us the same is not the same as making us the same.) I love Morrissey and Fight Club, and you love… well, that’s a bad example, we all love Morrissey and Fight Club, but you get the point. The Angel likes hikes and I like to lift weights, she likes mashed potatoes and I like anything but mashed potatoes. None of us are alike, and that is absolutely the design. We are all the way we are, for a purpose.

And when we start to step into that purpose, to take these new wings that we’ve always had out for a test flight, I think Our Creator rejoices. I think He says, “YES, finally!! Wait until this world gets a taste of (Cathy or Diane or Trish or Josh or whoever, anyone, everyone)!” It’s like He’s painted a masterpiece and just can’t wait for us to remove the curtain, so that everybody can see it.

In this scenario I imagine, you are the masterpiece. So am I, and so is your neighbor and your enemy.

Of course, it’s a flawed analogy. God is not like us. He’s waaaayyyy better, better than we could possibly dream, by miles and miles, by infinity. He is the One that gave us these wings, He wants us to use them. Sometimes, we don’t. Sometimes, we hide. Sometimes, we pretend to be someone else. Sometimes, we don’t know who we are, we don’t know we have these magnificent wings.

And, in my limited human perspective, I imagine that when he sees us find them and stretch them out, it’s a lot like how I felt last week.