Help!

Celebrated my year #63, on March 14, 43 shared with Laura as my mate-for-life.  In this photo, about one-month into our dating relationship, Laura was 15, I'd just turned 16.  I remember that day like it happened yesterday.

Reflecting on life at 63, I am reminded, again, about the plaintive message in the Beatles tune "Help." It occurrs to me...what a tremendous insight that song had into what happens to us as we move into the final third of our lives--but seen through the eyes of those five young men.  Hence the plaintive nature of the song.  In fact, from this side of the time continuum I realize that life today is filled with tradeoffs. While I can't "do it all" anymore, the tenderness I experience as Laura, our kids and friends "stand in the gaps" is profound. 

The FabFive had it figured out in 1969, they just didn't realize the light at the end of the tunnel was a train, coming to pick them up and carry them into a new chapter; Life is certainly different, it's definitely sweeter. 

The humility that comes with interdependence is liberating.

bN tGit

The love of God & Hope.

Grateful today that on December 28, 1968 I embraced the Risen Christ.  He paid a debt He did not owe, because of His great love and the Father's grace. It's been 47 years. 

I've experienced real transformation; a day does not slip by that I don't reflect on how different my life has been because of a very simple, heartfelt prayer.

More than this, I have confidence, assurance that "It is well with my soul." He has promised..."No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8.39

Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible and 47 years "of Christ in me, the hope of glory," tells me so.   Maranatha!

bN tGit

Vexed NOT beaten.

Someone recently asked me about a passing comment I'd made about the Tower of Babel; wanting me to expand on what was said. 

Over the years I've always attempted to find "dynamic equivalents" in the culture around me to help people understand a deeper principle from the Scriptures. The Tower of course was the penultimate expression of hubris on the part of humankind; our effort to shake a collective fist at God and say "See, you aren't so transcendent after all." Foolish pride led to an inflated opinion of who we were; God breathed, language changed and chaos ensued. We discovered we were no match for the transcendent God.

Fast forward to modern culture: God, in his grace, has allowed mankind to apply his intellect and ingenuity, these also graciously granted by God, to "discover" thousands of things that insulate us from the ill-effects of the fall: drugs, asphalt, steel, plastic, roads, air conditioning, engines, automation--the list is endless. We in turn, tainted by sin and swelled with pride, believeing ourselves to be wise "shake our fists" at God and say, "You see, the Scriptures are myth; there was a big-bang and then there was mankind and look at how we have evolved...we have the power to give and take life. We don't need myths to prop us up anymore. We are God." 

In reality, everything we touch we corrupt. Look at what we call our "system of Justice." We condition the air at the same time we poison it with hydro-carbons. We pollute the planet, poison our bodies, can't beat cancer or aids and when/if we do, something else always emerges. Regardless of how effective we are at blunting the effect of sin on life and the planet, sin always trumps our best efforts...and God allows it, to point us to our need for a Savior and His gracious provision for our redemption.

The farther evolved civilization becomes the further it devolves into moral and spiritual chaos--abortion, failed economies, addiction, violence, corrupt governments, greed, broken relationships, idolotry, shaminism, social injustice. Think about it, in 1965 LBJ gave us the Great Society. These unfunded mandates have done nothing to enlighten culture and end poverty--but they have driven us to edge of bankruptcy and destroyed families while perpetrating genocide on the poorest of the poor. The smarter we get, the dumber we are. We can run from God, but we can't hide.

So then, civilization as we have fashioned it, has become mankind's' most recent "Tower of Babel;" the work of "our hands" which demonstrates our independence, our ability to "get it done without God." We set out to be like God, and in a final irony, we create the very modality that could be the end of life as we know it. We can destroy it, but we can't fix it..."and all the king's horses, and all the king's men, couldn't put humpty-dumpty back together again." 

The lie that deceived Eve, continues to vex us; but we aren't beaten. This Truth has set us free..."When we were utterly helpless...God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners." Romans 5.6a,8

Hallelujah, what a Savior!

bN tGit

A Waypointe...

The more things change, the more they stay the same. 

"The eastern world it is explodin' violence flarin' bullets loadin' you're old enough to kill but not for votin' you don't believe in war but what's that gun your toatin' and even the Jordon river has bodies floatin', but you tell me over and over and over again my friend, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction..."   The Eve of Destruction--Barry Maguire, 1964

It's true, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

"But realize this, that in the last days difficult times will come. 2 For men will be lovers of self, lovers of money, boastful, arrogant, revilers, disobedient to parents, ungrateful, unholy, 3 unloving, irreconcilable, malicious gossips, without self-control, brutal, haters of good, 4 treacherous, reckless, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God..."  2 Timothy 3.1-4, Apostle Paul,  64 A.D.

Does this sound familiar? Is Paul describing the corporate culture around us, the environment we labor in on a daily basis? Our neighborhoods? The places we shop? The schools our kids and grandkids attend? Yes.

But Paul doesn't stop at verse 4. In the next verse he says...

"...having a form of godliness, but denying its power."

Does that sound like the church where you (we) worship? Paul is telling Timothy what the last days,the Eve of destruction, will be like; he says they will be marked by three observable facts: a Godless world, a powerless religion and a corrupt ministry (detailed in vv.6-9).

We are there.

My focus in blogging today is on the second fact, the Church in America is unplugged, powerless. By power I mean spiritual gravitas--authority which is the result of a clear anointing from God. Most of the country perceives the confessing church to be the most conservative wing of the Republican Party. I grew up hearing my mom say, "if the shoe fits wear it!" Unfortunately, we've been tagged with this perception the old fashioned way, we've earned it. We've chosen to contend for the soul of America using the political process--a grave error. The shoe fits.

It's time for the confessing church change our trajectory to become THE church. The fact is God wants to share, with His Church, His manifest presence--His glory. He wants to share it in a way that will have a transformative powerful impact--an exchange that will empower His Church in ways that are "exceedingly, abundantly beyond anything we can ask or even imagine (Ephesians 3.20)." So what has the Church done? We've settled for sloppy seconds. Too many of us worship in places that are driven by forms rather than power. We've allowed popular culture to shape our vision of what Christ's church should be, what it should look like; we have quested for "relevance" and embraced the wrong set of outcomes.

Today we measure the quality and effectiveness of our ministries based on the Big 3: People, Buildings and Revenue. In fact, it's not difficult to erect buildings and fill them with people that generate million-dollar budgets. False religions, cults and sects do it all around the world. Jim Jones did in San Francisco and finally in Guyana. Jimmy Swaggart did it, then did it AGAIN in Louisiana.

People, buildings and money won't produce transformational-redemptive power, nor are they the indicators of the anointing of God. Powerless religion, form-driven religion has a micro focus: it sees "the church" as the end. Forms--the way we "do church," the things we do or don't do that identify us as "christians," are paramount. This is the kind of context Jesus came into in Judea; the context the Religious power brokers endorsed and protected.

Form-driven religion becomes a template that...blunts our ability see the Glory of God; blocks willingness to embrace the purpose of God; blinds us to the brokenness which surrounds us. Form-driven religion makes us think in "wrong headed ways" about what the world deserves v. what God desires--us v. them; becomes a tyranny which chokes our vibrancy, shrivels our generosity and marginalizes the Church in ways that, ironically, make us irrelevant.

Outcomes are what's at stake here. Matthew 9..."35 Jesus was going through all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every kind of disease and every kind of sickness. 36 Seeing the people, He felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dispirited like sheep without a shepherd. 37 Then He said to His disciples, 'the harvest in plentiful, but workers are few."

We've come to a waypoint.



bN tGit

Uncommon Valor

"Uncommon valor was a common virtue"

Fleet Admiral Chester Nimitz

Today marks the 71st Anniversary of the fateful day, February 19, 1945, US forces launched the assault on a cipher in the South Pacific, the volcanic Island, Iwo Jima.

The Congressional Medal of Honor, our Nation's highest award for Valor, defined as "conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty while engaged in an action against an enemy of the United States..." was awarded to 22 Marines and 5 Sailors--nearly one for each day of the battle; 13 of the 27 were awarded posthumously.

Consider the human carnage.  A thirty-six day campaign; 26,800 American casualties--6800 dead. Of the 22,060 Japanese soldiers entrenched on the island, 21,844 died either from fighting or by ritual suicide. Only 216 were captured during the battle. It was hell on earth.

Losing so many of our WW2 vets every day. Invest time this week in an effort to make contact with one you might know or not...and tell them how much their service means to you. (Why not call a local Nursing Care facility or American Legion Post and get some contact info...make a call, write a note, drop in for a visit.)

Big thanks to Navy and Marines.

Semper Fi.

bN tGit

Paradise Found

Laura, my wonderful soul-mate, loves and raises Roses.  I marvel at her skill and tender care as she nurtures these beautiful and fragrant flowers.  This was written several years ago as a tribute to my amazing wife.  I share it here, again, a reminder of what a remarkable woman my lovely Valentine is.

    Summer.
Deck brittle with age, surrounded by color, a wall.
Satin petals: Red, Pink, Ivory, Maize.
Thorns a reminder: look, don't touch.

Water droplets perfectly formed, wait to escape.
Bees busy, a harvest of nectar.
Woman sits, watches, filled with joy at the sight.

She labors with tender care.
Scarred by thorns, undaunted.
She plants, she feeds, she waters.

The full bloom of her effort,
a feast for the eyes
Delicious to smell.

     Autum.
Sun's path plunges
colors blaze then fade.
Not an end; pause, to rest.

    Winter.
In time she plans for the deep white sleep of winter.
Well covered. Glory there still, but not.
They wait.

    Spring.
She prepares the soil, a feast.
They awake from slumber, race to come out.
Canes the channel of life, carry lovely crowns through voyage to summer.

     Summer.
In full bloom they linger.
Celebrated, loved; a reminder,
In the begining God.

bN tGit

A Gray Cloudy Day

Lake slips into a mist of gray
Horizon broken by trees stripped by Fall, 

bracing for winter.
Seasons change, storms pass.

A metaphor for life?
Fifty shades of gray, stripped by storms, 

bracing for loss.
Where is the hope?

A Blue Herron floats over the water.
The Spirit floats over the chaos of life.
Flashes of color break through the mist.
Seasons change, storms pass.
God--not lost in the gray.
Hope.

bN tGit

Cracked Pots.

In the week just completed, Christians all over the world celebrated "Ash Wednesday" marking the beginning of Lent, a season of reflection and preparation for Resurrection Day--coming this year on March 28.  I'm reposting a blog I shared one year ago, today.  At that time it had been just a few months since one of the Rocks-of-my-life passed into the presence of God.

Gene Cherrie was my father-in-law.  He was an extraordinary man. I'm hoping these words will help those looking forward to the Resurrection Day celebration expand their appreciation for what God in Christ did for humankind at the Cross. That said, reflect and prepare.  Sunday's com'n.

The family gathered in November 2014 to say our final farewells and remember Gene in a memorial tribute to his the life and legacy.  At that time I ran across a pair of scissors that belonged to him. My first response--I laughed out loud! Then my heart was warmed as I realized they were metaphor for Gene's life--his legacy, and God's amazing grace.

They are an ordinary three-dollar pair, with customized handle--the one that your middle finger slips into. It's been very skillfully fashioned from a one-inch piece of ply-wood. It's clear that Gene had created a jig from the broken handle; carefully cut the wood using the jig, then shaped it with a grinder to fit precisely the targeted finger; sanded to be smooth and pose no splinter threat to the user.

The "stub" of plastic it has been attached to was skillfully reshaped to be the base for the new wood-extension. The extension has been precisely measured so that the fabrication slips tightly over the stub with one end slightly longer than the other to provide the proper leverage as the scissors are opened and closed (Physics matter). The extension has been glued to the "stub" and secured with three very intentionally placed wood screws, two on the long end, one on the short to complete the revision. The screw on the short end has been ground down just enough to allow the scissors to close precisely as they did when they were new just coming off the shelf at Staples.

I immediately asked Betsey, Laura's step-mom, if I could have them--she very graciously said "Of course, take them." As I've used these scissors, and yes--reflected on them--over the past several months, I realize they say as much about God, as they do about Gene.

This came clearly into focus for me just this week as I had breakfast with a dear brother-in-Christ and our conversation turned to the impact, the life-long impact, of sin on our lives. There isn't a re-set button for the bad choices we make. The grooves sin cuts into our lives are deep and stubborn, they don't simply disappear when we confess our sin and seek God's forgiveness. The consequences of our willful choices and bad decisions are still part of our daily experience. If it ended there it would be a difficult load to bear. But, thanks be to God, it doesn't.

When we come to Christ through effective faith, God takes us as we are, then carefully, lovingly and skillfully refabricates our lives. The scars are there, still visible--painful--but He restores us. Like Gene's re-visioned pair of scissors, we become fully-functional again. He never throws us away; He picks us up, dusts us off and empowers us to carry on. The scars, the memories, they serve to instruct us each day about His gracious provision, His empowering desire and His loving redemption.

Paul writing to the Church in Corinth (4.1,2.. 7-10) instructs us...

'4 Therefore, since God in his mercy has given us this new way, we never give up. 2 We reject all shameful deeds and underhanded methods...7 We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves. 8 We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. 9 We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but not destroyed. 10 Through suffering, our bodies continue to share in the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus may also be seen in our bodies.'

Did you see that? We are cracked pots; pressed not crushed. Perplexed not confused. Pursued not abandoned. Pushed down not destroyed. Suffering, but fully alive in Christ! The scars that remain serve as a map pointing others to Jesus. It is our weakness that serves as such a remarkable witness to the power of God--choosing the weakness of the human condition to transform our spheres of influence one person, one family, one neighborhood, one community, one nation at time. This humble path-to-power is, in fact, the real "road less traveled."

I thank God every day for that pair of scissors. They have an honored place in a simple container, with other tools we use on a daily basis, on one of the counters in our kitchen. Each time my gaze falls on them, I remember Gene--and in that moment, the legacy of his life points me to God's grace, power and love. He takes the "total-loss" that was our lives and transforms it to treasure..."all I had to offer Him was brokenness and strife, but He made something beautiful out of my life."

Hallelujah, what a Savior!

Sunday's Com'n.

bN tGit

Today.

Today nest is empty.
Today cannot do things as before.
Today face lined, hair gone.
Today confidence gave way to doubt.
Today strength gave way to weakness.

Today independence became community.
Today knowledge became wisdom.
Today love became tenderness.
Today time became a gift.
Today "help" stopped being a four letter word.

bN tGit

Oh SO Super

America is unique.

It's amazing what people can do when given the freedom to succeed AND to fail.  Our "Super Bowl" has become a metaphor.

Back in July, each team started at the same place, 0-0, as every other franchise in the NFL.  Now, 106 young men, two teams remain standing; black, white, brown...not all born equally, privleged start and not.  All shapes, sizes...some more talented than others.  All making the most of what they've been given, working hard and sacrificing for a dream.  Working together to create synergy.  All competing on a level playing field, and yet, a few with a clear advantage over others, not all endowed equally--size, strength, speed.  All paid, what the market will bear for their service--some much more than others.

That said, each strives to overcome, to elevate their game and maximize their opportunity, against all odds. The underdog can prevail, because "heart" can't be measured.  Mistakes will be made, injuries will occur that force a change to the gameplan and the unexpected, will be the norm.  Bad calls?  No doubt; someone is going to feel like it wasn't fair.  Most will perform up to standard, a few will be disappointed--and not play well at all.  The ball will be dropped and it will take some bad bounces.  But there won't be any do-overs.  One performance will be judged most outstanding of all...and propel that player to a new level of achievement and noteriety.

At the end of the day, some will win, others will lose.  And tomorrow morning?  Each will crawl out of bed, and begin again, in an attempt to make the ascent to the top of their profession; each sore, tired, some beaten, all driven by conviction: it's a new day, it's a new opportunity,  "I believe 'it' can happen, if I work hard, stay focused and apply myself." 

This hope compels them to bear down, start over and try again.  They will take what they learned (the good, the bad and the ugly), winners and losers, and use that as leverage to get better and they will--because they see the future is filled with open doors.

I believe this is why this night, this event, is more celebrated, anticipated and watched than any other event on the calendar in America.  It reflects our hopes and dreams, our core values as a nation, at so many levels.  We watch these young men compete and we are reminded, dreams come true here; hard work pays here, the hope of success far outweighs the risk of failure.  Bottom line: "'It' can happen, it does happen."  If it doesn't?   Failure isn't the end of the world, it's the begining of a new cycle.

Everyone has to play by the rules, but the rules aren't designed to produce pre-determined outcomes.  So, many compete; some win, some lose; some never win or lose, because they never try, that's ok too.  America is a place where dreaming is a part of our culture, where we, as free people, set the bar; where people can "do better" and to no one's surprise, we do.  

America, "we hold these truths..."

bN tGit