Normal?

normalthis thing of life is not such an easy thing to live when living is comprised of doing that which runs contrary to that which is normal. yet i question who determines normal? if normal is the goal, i failed somewhere along the way. but if it’s not the goal what is? and if it’s not the goal why do so many strive to accomplish it? considering goals, it seems to be that goals are the sort of thing one works long and hard to achieve and as such it comes at a great cost. a cost that some would deem too steep to pay. those are the ones who pull up short and worse yet, never begin at all. i don’t fancy myself that sort of a person, although this thing of achieving the goal is no doubt a thing of great difficulty; at least these days. i find that my inner self is at war fighting hard to define what normal ought to be. what it ought to look like, feel like, live like. am i called to live a normal life? no matter how much i might wish i were, i know i’m not. so why bother striving for that which i know isn’t the goal?

no. i very much would rather define the goal to be that which is greater than myself and my ability to achieve on my own accord. the goal ought to be that which when looked upon is summarized as anything but normal. it’s the sort of thing that takes more of you than you have. and yet that’s what i want to be found doing. it becomes the sort of thing that wrecks a day, but redeems a life.

i think very easily i could ball my fist and cast darts of anger at God for calling me to that which isn’t normal. and he’d be okay with that. he’d remind me that he’s big enough to take it; that he’s taken it from so many before me and he’s none the worse for the wear. i think he’d remind me that i’m called because he both knew the outcome and the joy that could be had in the journey despite the pain and heartache and doubt and questions and depression and fear and hopelessness and anger and the sense of lostness. he’d remind me that this call is greater than i am and that in my pocket of greatest weakness i’m actually at my point of greatest need. and when i’ve exhausted all other options i’d turn to him and he’d be there to fold strong hands around mine and strong arms around me and he’s breath a firm whisper in my ear that soaks deep into my heart reminding me that my Dad is Abba and he loves and cares of me his child. that he loves me to the point of calling me to that which isn’t normal because he knows that he didn’t create me to ever be normal.

as i daily contemplate the work of God in my life and as i strive to find myself faithful to the call he’s placed in my heart and the journey he’s set before me and my family, i’ve come to take great solace in the words of this song, claiming them as a psalm over this present reality of life.

Advertisements

Three Words

the_end“I am done.”

Three words that cut through the air like a crack of lighting ripping through a Mid-western summer sky. The weight those words hold is nothing short of immense, yet in the same moment, they seem as light as air.

It has been a little over a month since I first uttered those three words, which forever changed the course of my history. I have started many times to try and put words to the reality of which I’m now living, and time after time I’ve come up empty with exactly what to say. You see, it was with great peace and confidence that I was being led; dare I say called to quit my job. A job that provided a great deal of comfort and security for me and my family.

I have been, for the past thirteen years, a youth pastor, loyal to a single church, called not to a job, but to a life of service to teenagers. That is until the call no longer came in one winter day. That morning I woke up as usual, but in an instant, the length of time it took me to silence my alarm, I knew I would be quitting my job. It wasn’t quite as sudden as it may sound. The truth is God had been applying great amounts of molding pressure to my heart for quite some time. And the more I sought his will, his plan, his purpose… the more I realized this day would eventually come and I’d be released from my present calling, only to be ready to receive the new call for my life.

The quirky tidbit in the storyline is that while God in fact did remove one call on my life, he hasn’t yet replaced it with a new one. That’s not to say that I don’t fully believe he will; he simply hasn’t yet.

As word of my resignation spread, the inevitable questions about what’s next began to surface. Each time, I honestly had to say that I wasn’t sure; God hadn’t yet revealed his next steps. Interestingly, through the whole of this process, my wife and I have been both on the same page (that’s important), and oddly at peace (also important). The reality of the situation we’re in is that what we are doing doesn’t honestly make sense; outside of God’s economy. No one willfully quits their job, the job that is the primary financial means for their family, without having a back up plan locked in place. And by back up plan, we all know it’s supposed to be something bigger and better. Why else quit if it’s not?

Yet here we are, without any sort of back up plan. No bright white Dave Ramsey envelope tucked safely in the center desk drawer. Rather I feel very much like what it may have felt like for those who experienced the scene that took place in Joshua 3. I feel as though we’re at the edge of the Jordan River and we’ve just been told that once we step foot in the water, God will stop up the current and we’ll cross on dry land. It’s a great promise to be sure, but difficult to believe fully when looking out at the water rushing by. None the less, the priests caring the Ark had faith enough in the word of the Lord and followed through with what they were told. The result?

17 The priests who carried the ark of the covenant of the Lord stopped in the middle of the Jordan and stood on dry ground, while all Israel passed by until the whole nation had completed the crossing on dry ground.

God made good! It’s right there in black and white. While I don’t yet know what God has in store for us; what the next chapter of our story is to be. I do know that he’s faithful and true and will provide for us the space to live out whatever the next chapter is. I can’t explain, except for the grace and wonder of God, how we are at such peace in the midst of such uncertainty, but we are. I don’t know what will happen a month from now if nothing’s changed and I’ve drawn my final pay check. But this much I know. I’m a child of the King of kings and the Lord of lords and while I call him Father, he calls me his own. The care he displays for me is greater than the care he shows over the lilies of the field and look how they flourish. I trust that as he knew me intimately well in my mother’s womb, he knows what’s next and he is the God who goes before me. I trust him because I have nothing else strong enough to trust. I hold tight to him because he’s the only thing which is unmovable. I cry out to him for he’s the only one who can interpret and understand the groans of my soul.

With everything that is in me, I completely believe that this is not the end, no it isn’t.

Beard Theology

I just so happened to be poking around Scot McKnight’s blog today; something I don’t do nearly enough. And while there I happened to have my attention caught by this post displaying the various beards found in ministry.

Being a beaded man myself, and in ministry, I decided to check it out further. While there were several styles that came close, none nailed it quite like the Neo-Reformed. See for yourself:

Neo-ReformedIf you look close enough, you’ll even notice I have the beginnings of the white streaks beginning to establish themselves. Referencing the description, and it’s a lock for sure. I suppose it goes without saying that from here on out I’ll be referring to myself in theological circles as a Neo-Reformist; but then again any well trained theologian will already know that just by noting the beard.

On Being A Dad

On this Father’s Day, I feel quite blessed. At several points along my day I was reminded just how incredibly loved I am. It was a special day full of laughter, play, rest, food, cards, hugs, more laughter and memories were made. I cherish the title dad, and I strive to honor the position for my “little” girl’s sake. I want to show her what a man is to be, how he’s to act, treat a woman, love and live life. I want her to see a piece of her heavenly Father in me, and as such be drawn more deeply toward him. Today was Father’s Day, and I couldn’t be more happy.

My Mistakes, A Matter of Perspective

I know it takes a rare sort of person to get excited about owning up to their mistakes. The upside to our mistakes however, is we all have them. Piles of them I’m sure. Within hours of our birth, the ticker on our mistake meter began running, and there likely is no sign of it slowing any time soon.

So let’s come clean, and admit we’ve made mistakes, and will do so again–probably very soon.

Here’s the thing though. Our mistakes often times are viewed from the wrong perspective. We tend to see the mess-ups of our lives as something to be frowned upon, or hidden away or even ashamed and embarrassed by. Have you considered that maybe your mistakes aren’t designed to be a permanent blemish on our life’s timeline, rather they are benchmarks of opportunity for God to come to the rescue?

With the help of Steven Furtick and his book Sun Stand Still, I was awoken to this aha moment recently when I read his words here…

Your mistakes can actually make you a more likely candidate for a miracle–if you process them God’s way.

Simple, and at the same time brilliant. It’s a matter of perspective. Do I view my mistakes in the negative or in the light of redemption? When we position ourselves to see our mistakes in this new way, we all of a sudden awaken to the reality of God at work in our lives.

Let’s commit together to realign our perspective as far as it relates to our mistakes, being cautious of course not to willfully wonder into them. But when we find ourselves having committed one, we no longer view it as negative, rather celebrate it while Jesus works to redeem it, creating miracles in our midst.