A Lesson from Father Abraham

I did not grow up in children's ministry and youth group. So, I missed out on felt boards and campfire songs among other things. When my daughter was two, we did not want her to experience the same deficit, so we bought a sing-a-long video of cheesy Christian songs. Great things about these songs is that, while they bring the cheese, they help you remember Bible stuff because you can't get the tune out of your head no matter how hard you try.

One of those songs was about Father Abraham. It goes "Father Abraham had many sons, many sons had Father Abraham, I am one of them, and so are you, so let's all praise the Lord." Then a body part would be called out like you were doing the hokie pokie, and the whole process would be started over. All of this highlights that Abraham is our spiritual father. No forgetting that.

Indeed, Genesis relates to us that God credited Abraham's (at the time Abram, I know) faith as righteousness. For many of us, that's where we think the story ends - there aren't any other verses of the song, right. Abraham became a pillar of the faith and lived a life of perfection because he is, after all, our spiritual father. If that's all we see, then we're missing the best part of the story.

A couple weekends ago, I had the opportunity to teach out of Genesis 17. Abram sins. Big time. Tries to make God's promises come to fruition. That's the thing about God, He gets touchy about his promises - if He makes them, then He's taking responsibility for them and our best efforts are to not get in the way. But Abram did get in the way and God let Abram stew in it for 13 years.

When God comes on the scene, first thing he says is for Abram to "walk before me and be blameless". Most I have read about this interpret the statement to mean that God wants Abram to do a better job obeying. He needs to be perfect. I disagree. God knows that is impossible.

This statement to Abram was an invitation. An invitation to come back. God was saying, "Abram, you screwed this up, you didn't listen and were impatient. You didn't trust me. But I love you. Come back. It was your faith and trust in me that made you righteous, see what happens when you wander away. Now come back and be perfect." God is extending grace to a sinner. Not the first time, and most definitely not the last.

God is extending grace. That offer does not stop once we enter our covenant with Him. This is something that I see Christians get wrong so often. We seem willing to accept the initial offer of grace, of the gift of Jesus, but somewhere along the line we feel like we have to begin to earn the favor of God. As if now that we are in the relationship we have to now earn God's continued love. Or, like Abram, we feel like we have to cover God's bases.

The life of a Christ follower seems to be one of tensions. There are two ways to tread on God's grace. We can just not care, determine that God is going to forgive us anyway, and do what we want. Disposable grace.

The other end of the spectrum is to feel like grace is not good enough. God needs help. So we have to look the part. Wear the mask. Act like we think God wants. Insufficient grace.

That second one was me. I KNEW about grace. I could tell people, quite convincingly, about God's grace. But I was effectively living as if that was not enough. God needed help. Thing is, if you are treading on God's grace, if you are living it out of balance, on one end of the spectrum or the other, it is going to blow up on you. For me I could not wear the mask any longer. Too tight. Too suffocating. Too frustrating that nothing was working. Too exhausting trying to make my own way.

Here's the thing, when God appeared to Abram, He already knew. You can't hide from the Eternal One. He knew what Abram would do when He made the original covenant with him. None of this was a surprise. Maybe it was a necessary part of Abram's learning to trust. Bowing on his face realizing he had just blown everything, expecting a firm rebuke, but instead getting an invitation to grace. Reading a little further in Genesis 17, God says "I have made you the father of many nations", it is already done. Your screw up does not change my plan.

That's my path and what I've learned about grace. I gave up everything. I was stupid and doing my own thing. Hacking my own path with a dull machete instead of walking the path Christ had already cut out. But God invited me back, to walk before Him and be perfect. Reminding me, or teaching me, to trust. Grace restores.

This experience of restoring grace is not unique to Abraham. It is my experience as well. My time in the desert is almost over. God is choosing to confirm my calling and restore my vocational ministry. It would be interesting to have God's foreknowledge and know now what He has made through me. Not until heaven.

My experience of grace has been humbling. Every step. I'm not perfect, nor will I be. (Abraham wasn't read on in Genesis). But I'm trusting, and that is exactly what God wants - for me to walk before Him so I can be perfect.

Love Is a Battlefield

Pat Benatar penned a song with those lyrics. In her song, she is talking about young lovers standing together against the heartaches of life. You can sense the desperation of her tone when you hear the song, almost like she is living in the anticipation that eventually something will come along to drive them apart.

Love being a battlefield reminds me of the church. If I am going to be completely honest with you, reader, then I have to say that through my experience of the last year, having to rely on God, having lost everything and being slowly restored, - like biblical Job or what the mystics would call having an experience of the Paschal Mystery - I can say that I truly understand the grace of God. My experience with it has been personal and life changing.

Before all of this I would have said that I understood grace. I would have been able to present God's grace to someone in a compelling way. (God's Riches At Christ's Expense! How clever!) But, I don't think lived my own spiritual life, or many times my interactions with people, in the authentic understanding of grace. Rather than believing that God loves me so that I can change, I effectively believed that God will love me if I change. Often, my treatment of people, or lack of compassion for them, what guided by this belief.

Brennan Manning has observed that the "church has become a wounder of the healers rather than a healer of the wounded." From my own experiences both given and received, this seems largely accurate. Richard Rohr notes it this way, that the majority of religion is more concerned with rituals, moralities, and group conformity rather than knowing ourselves and how the self that was created by God can relate to Him. So we tell people Jesus is the answer (which of course He is, but we leave it very nebulous what that means practically, probably because most don't know themselves), sin no more, get in a Bible study, and serve somewhere. That becomes the entry into the spiritual battle of most.

Love is a battlefield.

The spiritual life is a battle. Jesus demonstrated that. The Bible pictures it. Yet I think it is something the church forgets. Forgets that in a battle there are casualties. No one's spiritual path is going to be without hurts or setbacks. That is the reality of living in a fallen world and coming up against an enemy that rages to take as many as he can to their doom.

So on our battlefield, we shoot our own. Offering condemnation and arrogance. On our battlefield, we leave our wounded. Obviously they were not authentic or else they wouldn't have struggled and fallen. The body is supposed to offer comfort from the comfort we've received. God freely offers his grace and mercy and we are to do likewise.

I've always taken the teaching that "if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward" as literal water. I'm sure that is true. But is it possible that Jesus is talking about the living water of himself, his refreshing grace and his comforting mercy that we are also to offer his disciples? Certainly that is a legitimate possibility.

Living in the grace of God is changing my view of people and what they need, and I hope to be able to pass that perspective on to others as they walk their own journey and participate in the spiritual battle.

Thank you God for your never ending grace that has been greater than all the approval that I could receive from pleasing others. It has helped me break free of the bondage and lies of my fears. It has helped me not to be overcome by the awareness of my core sin, but to use that awareness to admit my dependency on the One Who Is Greater. It compels me to not repeat the patterns of my relational system. Grace is guiding me to strength and greater trust in the Most High. It is leading me on my journey toward living the life of love. All for Jesus.

In With the New

There is another apt episode of Seinfeld that comes to mind. Jerry is dating a woman who encourages him to express his emotions, particularly his anger. This is particularly tricky since Jerry is an 'even steven', never too far up, never too far down - usually just right in the middle. So, Jerry gets angry at his girlfriend's pestering. "That felt good" he said, and then the flow of emotions started.

He told Elaine that he loved her. Told George he was a good friend. Cried during a TV show while asking "what is this salty discharge coming out of my eyes?" Jerry went over the top with this new found skill. With the same girlfriend that wanted him to express himself, he started getting angry about every little thing. Ironically, she got tired of his constant expression of emotion and left Jerry.

He just didn't know what to do with his anger.

That's the challenge for the recovering passive guy. Well, at least this recovering passive guy. I've been told that I shouldn't dismiss my anger. That I need to feel it, process it, and then move on from it. My first reaction is that I don't want to be a husband that leads by intimidation or threat. I don't want to be a wife beater. In response (after the laughter), I was told that there is a long way from me even carrying my anger too far to being an abusive spouse. Not likely to happen.

Expressing my anger is a tough new challenge. Being angry upsets people. Being angry is confrontational. Being angry will require taking your mask off and letting people see the real you. But, no one ever got hurt being upset and I'm all about living mask-free, so I now allow myself to express my anger. But it is awkward.

My wife doesn't know what to do. She's been dealing with a people pleaser for 15 years and now she has to deal with someone with an opinion, who is not going to be pushed aside and dismissed. Someone who is now putting on the mantle of leadership and not just striving for the absence of conflict. It is a tough adjustment for her as well as me. One that is often hard for me to keep in mind - she has a new reality.

My trouble at this moment is that I don't know what to do with my anger. While I am experiencing it I don't know how to put it aside in order to sort through the conflict in a constructive way. It is hard for me to, in the midst of my anger, to confront the emotions that my wife is dealing with. This is my latest test on the strength journey. Can I put her needs above my own in the moment.

This is like having driving an automatic for your whole life, then having to learn to drive a stick. Changing gears. It's a better way to drive, better performance, better mileage, but it is tough to learn to change the gears at appropriate times (much less stop at a red light facing uphill!). I'll learn and I'll be NASCAR good at it, but for the moment it is very awkward and difficult.

Paint By Numbers

I am really not much of an artist. Either I have no skill in this area or have long since stopped trying to develop it. In 5th grade, my art teacher refused to put my project made of clay in the kiln, she felt it was just so bad that it was not worth the 'waste' of clay. Go figure, mom went without a clay toothbrush holder.

As I ponder how difficult is is for me to be artistic, it causes me to get annoyed at the dude on PBS I used to watch in high school who would create this beautiful and majestic mountain scene using nothing but a putty knife. Now that is deflating.

My one successful art memory that I have is a paint-by-numbers that I got for Christmas when I was probably around seven or eight. Painting is actually pretty fun. The image of the completed painting is etched in my memory. It was a tiger staring at you through tree leaves. The colors of the tiger contrasting nicely with those of the tree. Here is the problem with paint-by-numbers projects - it simply requires that you know colors and number and can pair them up. So none of the colors blend together, it is just a hodge podge of swirls, with each color distinct from its neighbor. Even though you knew it was a tiger, it had a lot of streaks in various shaded of yellow.

This is kind of like the picture of God that I had painted through my life. And it is possibly the most major change that I have had to make, peeling the layers and painting a new picture. If it's not the most major change, it is at least the most fundamental. Other changes within me would not be possible without painting a new picture.

I knew things about God. For other people, I could help them blend and understand, pointing their hearts in the right direction. To me that is so ironic. But in my life, everything remained distinct. My experience of God was painting by numbers, it was academic with very little heart, very little of myself, which is required of a real artist.

Not that heartless followship is what I wanted or thought was right, but I struggled to trust because of my poorly formed portrait of God. In my reckoning, God's attributes had no blending or relationship to each other. Yes I knew God loved me, but I held that distinct from His grace and mercy. I knew God forms us, sanctifies us, but I held that distinct from my own efforts. I knew this world has trials, but again, it was distinct from his love. Really, I could go on and on about how I had painted the wrong picture for myself.

Bottom line, love was based on performance. It could be lost or decreased depending upon your behavior. Not only with God, this perspective influenced how I gave and received love in all my relationships. Starting over required a new picture, no numbers to paint with.

Part of it required realizing that in coming, Jesus painted a picture of God that we could understand. He became the image of the invisible God, as Paul wrote to the Colossians. A verse that I understand in a new way. Look to Jesus. Because of his flesh, He understands frustration, rejection, and loneliness. For some reason I had tried to brush those things off, rather than embracing them as giving me the opportunity to walk the same road as my Savior.

Jesus loves his disciples regardless of their performance. Success or failure, His love did not waiver. It is not our performance that God is impressed by, it is the level of our trust. While I knew I was saved by grace, I was still caught in the trap of trying to merit God's favor. Rather than delighting in God, reaching for Jesus living inside of me, offering God my stillness, I was bent on becoming indispensable to God. Instead of ferreting out my root sin (which would indicate weakness and failure), I tried to hide it like Adam and Eve covering up with fig leaves. Like God doesn't know the truth.

Following Christ is not a role to play properly, it is a life dedicated to trust. Accepting His promises and realizing that He will come through on all of them, often despite our efforts. Trust means that there will be times of failure, letting God and others down, but that is what grace is all about. Trust is realizing that God wants to delight in my love for Him just as much as He wants me to delight in His for me. Trusting means yielding to the Spirit of Jesus living in me, allowing Him to know and develop my true self. That is my picture of God.

The Empty (inner) Circle

One of the things that I think God is directing me toward is working with church staffs. This is probably a long range plan, but I feel like I have learned an amazing amount about leadership and relationship systems that can be of help to those who maybe have not stepped back to examine themselves, their position in the leadership structure, and the stresses they endure and cause.

So just one element that I have to offer is a relational systems evaluation. My first question would be for each staff member/leader to tell me about their closest relationships. The quality of our inner circle relationships is a key foundation for successfully enduring the unique rigors of church leadership and pastoring. We need connection. An outlet. Support and comfort. Sadly, by the time all was said and done with regard to the collapse of my world, my inner circle was completely empty and that hastened the fall.

Some of the emptying was done for me. My wife and I had no connection. She had distanced herself from me and I had stopped trying. The person in the world that I would want to describe as my best friend, my supporter through thick and thin, was instead the person that I felt the most distance with. Rather than being able to offer support and guidance through the crests and troughs of ministry, my sharing sounded more and more like whining filling her with bitterness and resentment toward my job. This resentment was compounded by the fact that it was to my job that I turned more and more of my attention as the distance between us became greater.

Most of the empty inner circle was because of me. Pride is my root sin. In my relationships that expresses itself as a fear of rejection. A fear that if someone knew the real me, my real struggles, the real condition of parts of my life then they would certainly reject me. So I wore my "I'm fine" mask. Acted like everything was great all the time. If questions were asked, I became very adept at deflecting them. Turning conversations to the other. Listen and people will talk to you. That's not a bad thing until you start using it as a defense mechanism.

What I would look for in any pastor's answer to my question would be the proximity of the relationships to the workplace. It is not a bad thing to have some of your close relationships in the office. In fact, it is likely to happen, especially in an arena as relationally focused as church work. Yet, if that is the only basket that you have all your relational eggs in, that is a danger. Where do you go for an outside perspective of your system. To whom do you have relational freedom to talk about your trials without it being seen as interoffice gossip.

That was my problem. Every one of my close relationships was a church leader. Some who evaluated my performance and to whom I reported to. Truth is, I did make an attempt to reach out and share my marital struggles to one in my inner circle. This is where the pain of someone knowing my weakness was less than the pain of going on without help. So I reached out to one of the elders to whom I was close. Told him what was going on. Asked if his wife could reach out to mine. He did do that, but at the same time, he shared my struggle at an elder meeting and suggested that I was unfit to be a pastor.

Rather than an offer to walk alongside me, possibly even to mentor me as a husband or help me with my ability to perceive what I was contributing to the dysfunction of my marital system, rather than any of that my issues were shared with a large group of leaders. Looking back, even worse, no one did come to talk with me about it. It was kind of shoved under the rug and I was happy for it. There seemed to be a lack of wisdom or desire to confront me and help me.

In my state of unhealthy spirituality, the effect of that action on me was for me to revoke trust for any of my inner circle. I universalized. I became fearful of losing my job. I did not see the potential benefit that some light could shed on my situation. I'm not even sure the system that I was functioning in was capable of that sort of spiritual intervention. In that assessment I may be wrong, but it would explain why the question on the table was whether or not I should work there rather than what could we do to help.

Be that as it may, I am not attempting to transfer the blame for my actions to someone else or to some other group. The choices were mine and I take full responsibility for them. The fault is mine for not displaying wisdom in the variety of relationships I maintained. For believing the lie of the enemy and succumbing to my pride. For not trusting God and His promises.

But this is the sort of dynamic I would be looking for. Who is in your inner circle? Who do you reveal yourself to? Is there someone in your life who can ask you anything and will know if you are blowing smoke? What is the leadership system like where you are pastoring? Getting this right is a part of success that will last.

Finishing the Edge of the Puzzle

I am not much of a puzzle builder. Takes far too much patience. I really like activities in which progress is steady and noticeable, not hunting for something that may or may not have the color/pattern/shape/shading that you are looking for only to be continually disappointed when things don't fit. The one part of the process that I did enjoy was the edge. As a kid, I was good at sorting through, finding all the flat pieces and building the frame. Progress. Then I'd leave the interior for my mom and sister.

On my spiritual journey, I am sometimes forlorn that progress in me is not quicker. More noticeable to me. That I am still so bad at being a husband and abandoning my passivity. A friend of my, in a moment of encouragement that worked, told me that I am like a person who has been miraculously spared from a medical condition, like a stroke. Now, though, I am doing the tough, painful, exhausting job of rehabilitation. Learning new behaviors, moving beyond the awkwardness of thinking through every decision, and breaking the mold that was the old relational system that I was comfortable with.

The past couple weeks, things have really been starting to fit together. It's like something I read or was counseled a few months ago suddenly clicks into place and I'm able to actualize it, not just understand it in theory. Things like sharing my inner life. Expressing my vulnerability and what God is doing with me. Being an encourager. Not being demanding, but communicating my needs and desires. Not walking away from the conflict, but making attempts to lead through. Other stuff. All of which may seem simple to you. But for a passive guy who fears rejection and disappointing others, these are monumental steps. This is my Wall. My journey to strength is taking me through my Wall.

When I was a kid, I had this Atari game (by the way, the Atari 2600 rocked. one button. one controller. hours of fun shooting tanks, racing cars, swinging on vines, slaying dragons. i would love to have an Atari 2600 with Pitfall! and Adventure to go home to. and a cup of hot chocolate. and three feet of snow so i could stay in and play...........) Sorry, retreated back to my childhood there. Anyway, the game was called Yars' Revenge. In it you were a bug shaped space ship and you had to kill the mother ship which was behind a wall. Two ways to destroy the wall, shoot it or (since you were a bug) eat it. Well, I could never figure out how to kill the mother ship, so for me all the fun was eating the wall. Kinda lame. Now that I think of it, why didn't the mother ship die when I shot it or ran into it? There was literally nothing else you could do in the game.

Anyway, I'd eat the wall. Piece by piece until I could get through. That's how my Wall is now on this journey. Ignoring it helped lead me to my place of downfall. Only way to deal with the wall is to take it apart, piece by piece. You can't leap over it, ram through it, go around it. The Wall is the Wall and you have to either deal with it or run away from it. Before I didn't have the tools to deal with it or someone who could lead me on the journey. Now I have both.

(Lots of tangents today. If you are reading this, and struggling and wanting to know what to do. Begging for a step, something to relieve the pain. My suggestion, in love, is to go see a counselor. Put the pride on hold and get some counseling. Either professionally or a well trained lay person. Issues don't just magically go away. They come back and bring seven friends.)

The latest part of the wall that I am removing, a remnant from the people pleasing pattern, is differentiating between loving/accepting and indulging. Acknowledging crises as they pop up, empathizing, strategizing, but not giving into the demands. It takes effort and truth to change a system, especially one that has had 15 years to cement itself. In the past, giving in has felt to me like I'm loving her, and it has felt like love to her. But it isn't. It's enabling (how come I can identify that in every other person on the planet, but think it is healthy in me?).

People naturally resist change. Change is uncomfortable. Resistance to me, to my new, healthy behaviors is going to make me feel like I am unloving. Which takes me to puzzle piece number two for the week - proceeding through. That's the piece of the wall. Maybe the biggest piece yet. Maybe the biggest piece there is. Not backing away passively from resistance. But continuing through, having compassion for my wife's woundedness, loving her by walking alongside through her struggles, but providing a path. Being her guide. Helping her see around the corner when she cannot.

I've never said this on my blog, always thought it was assumed - but, I love my wife. A lot. I love being with her. I always loved her before I went crazy, but after my miracle it was like the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day. And I had all the love of ten Grinches, plus two. I love my wife. And I am so sorry that I wasn't better equipped to be her husband. That is changing, better late than never.

What's on the other side of the wall? What happens when the pieces of the puzzle fit together? I am told the life of love awaits. I don't mean that in some romantic, Hollywood, fairy tale, happily ever after kind of way. I mean life of love in that loving others well without thought of myself is just the natural expression of who I am. It is Jesus not just living in me, but through me. It is channeling God's love for me to other people. The overflow. It is being a light and no one can see the bulb.

I'm not there yet. But I'm closer that I was last week. Maybe I've finished the edge of the puzzle.

A Bad Metaphor

My birthday is tomorrow. I can honestly say that in my life there is nothing material that I want. Oh, I could give you a list of some books and I always enjoy a new shirt, but there is really nothing that I'm sitting around pining for. On a car ride this weekend (we do a lot of driving) I was joking with my wife about birthday gifts and told her that I measure how much I mean to people by what they get me as a gift. The comment was totally a joke - I think I heard it on a TV show or something, but it has struck me how relevant that comment was to be for me.

It wasn't until I got to the end of Blue Like Jazz that I pieced it all together. As donald miller is wrapping up his book, he describes how he came to the realization that his thinking on love was all wrong. When he was confronted with the metaphorical language our culture uses for love and relationships it becomes clear that, to us, they are a commodity, a product of our consumer society.

We invest in relationships.

We value people.

We build relational equity.

People can be morally bankrupt.

We make deposits in relational accounts.

My spouse is priceless (or a treasure).

You may describe someone as worthless.

Relationship have become economic. As such, we judge them by the payoff they we get from them. In this model, I'll choose to give or withhold my love based on what I'm getting out of the relationship. Think about it, if time is money - and that is part of the belief system that we have - then time I spend with someone has an economic implication. So, I will be inclined to spend time with or build into people who will produce for me, who will give me a return on my investment.

Conversely, I will withhold myself in relationship in which I'm not getting a good return. Those that are not meeting MY needs. Those that are not meeting my expectations or helping me climb the ladder of success. So withholding become a form of communication. "You don't measure up." "Give me what I want and I'll give back." "You're not worth it."

Those may or may not be the intentional messages, but I'm pretty certain that those would be the perceptions of the other, the person who is not experiencing a scarcity of attention or affection in the relationship. Looking back, I was very good at this. Pride, remember? Relationships had a definite purpose to validate me or meet a need. That's why there are people pleasers - it's not about the other, it's about self.

There were lots of relationships that I manipulated like a stock broker. Buying and selling depending upon what I was getting. Especially with my wife. Being a man with passive tendencies, I would withdraw from contact. Withhold expressions of love (unless they were physical), mope around, invest my time elsewhere where I would feel worth.

While it didn't cure me totally, my Miracle showed me the error of my unforgiveness and pride. My wife (and others) were not at my disposal or intended for my validation. But something that underlies all this, all this withholding, is a realization that our love, affection, and friendship has influence. Our love for people has the power to make or break them.

We've all heard the expression that behind every good man is a good woman. Well, duh. It is easier to succeed when you have someone cheering you on and respecting you. When you don't have to expend so much emotional energy proving yourself. Similarly, behind every good woman, I'd expect there to be a man who cherishes, encourages and loves his woman. For the same reasons. It's so much easier for a flower to bloom in fertile soil.

I want there to be fertile soil for my relationship to bloom in (Btw, are gardening metaphors better for relationships that economic ones? I'll have to think that through, but this is a blog and we'll go with it.). Since I'm the man, the God appointed leader, the change agent, it is up to me to do til the ground. Strategies abound. There are a million books on relationships that have good strategies. But they will only truly be effective when your motivation is right. When you drop the economic model of investing to get something.

Instead, serve. Give yourself as a gift. Expect nothing in return. Put your needs on hold. Do it for love. How can I claim to love God when I treat my brothers and sisters as commodities. Let God fill your account so it can be emptied for others. If you get something in return, even better, but that is not the motivation. That's been the fruit of my Miracle and coming up against the Wall of my pride. Realizing that I shouldn't be trying for an economic style return in my relationship, but creating a new metaphor.

Why'd You Have to Go and Make Things So Complicated

It is great to get another perspective. Especially one that causes you to take a step back and see things really differently. An "a ha!" moment. Just like the picture of the woman below. Some see an old woman looking down and others see a young woman with her head turned away. It takes some serious effort to break through your preconceptions and see the other woman, but when you do it is almost like your brain experiences a sense of relief.



Although, it is just a little humbling when that relieving change in perspective comes from the mouth of a nine year old child. Jesus did say that the kingdom belonged to those such as the little children, yet it doesn't make the pill any easier to swallow. Let me give you the back story.

Since I repented from my craziness I have been praying that God would give me a second chance at ministry. In fact, I feel totally compelled that is His direction for me. At the same time, I know that my dessert experience is important and not to be rushed. I'm learning to delight in God regardless of my circumstances. So I've prayed. Knowing that it would be a miracle of God's grace.

That in a nutshell is the back story. So, in an amazingly humbling event, I am talking with a church about a job. Whether it comes to anything or not, I am filled with gratitude and awe struck by a God of forgiveness and second chances. In everything, I want to be faithful, not running ahead (as is my bent), not lagging behind.

In my effort of faithfulness I was employing those around me to pray. My daughter was one of those and I also wanted to get her thoughts on this potential new opportunity. Here is our conversation:

Me: "How would you feel about daddy going to work at pastor smith's church?"
Her: "I think it would be great. I like going and they don't have church on Saturday so we'd get to spend that together."
Me: "Would you pray for this opportunity?"
Her: "What do you want me to pray for?"
Me: "That daddy would only do what God wants. And that I have a clear direction on whether to take the job or not."
Her: "I'll pray if you want me to daddy, but it seems like this is the answer to your prayers. You've been praying for this since you came back and God knows that is what He made you to do."
Me: "Well, ok then."

Now, as you read this conversation, when my daughter said the word 'answer', say it in your mind as a nine year old would say it while explaining something super obvious to a three year old sibling. Kinda drawn out, like "aaaaannnnsssswwweeeerrrr to your prayers (aren't you my dad? shouldn't you be smarter than me? i can't believe you don't understand how prayer words dad.).

While I'm not advocating here that I should not pray, isn't it true that we over complicate things? Like if God did give me neon writing in the sky, I'd be like "yeah, but I'd be really sure if He made it a blinking neon sign."

It's all about trust. Putting your life in His hands. Trusting where He is going to send you. I think sometimes there is a semblance of distrust in our prayers. Using prayer as a disguise. "Let me pray on it" is the most common blow off in ministry. It's passive, wanting the decision to be made for me. Taking the trust out of my hands. Neon signs do not require faith. Neon signs are for the timid. From my daughter's perspective, I was already praying. This was the answer, not a point for indecision.

How simple. And in this case, how true. I'm connected to God in a way that is different from the past. I'm aware of what He's doing in my life. This IS an answer to prayer. So, one foot in front of the other I'm going to choose the path of trust. Let's see where this opportunity leads.

Thou Dost Protesteth Too Much

While talking with some friends at church, we got going about the church group that has been in the news recently for protesting things. Mainly at the funerals of dead soldiers who were gay. But it seems they have branched out. My friend had encountered them at a sci-fi convention in San Diego where they had signs like "God hates nerds" and other uplifting statements.

Before Christ we all had things that we used in the place of God in our hearts. For some it may be the fantasy of a sci-fi world. For others it is how they define themselves sexually. Doesn't make it right, just true of everyone who has experienced the human condition.

It occurred to me that this church group has forgotten that. They've fallen into the trap of self-righteousness. Basically and attitude of "I've changed, forget that it was a process, I expect you to be just like me." Absent are grace and hope, heavy are the doses of judgment and condemnation. Really, it does more to damage the cause of Christ. If not for the Holy Spirit, I'd say it would be impossible for those who receive this condemnation to realize they are loved by God.

Conversely, I've been reading Blue Like Jazz by donald miller (he doesn't capitalize his name on the book cover, so I'll be cool and do the same). It's an interesting peek into one man's journey on the Christian path. My favorite chapter has been 'confession'. Seems don found himself one of a small handful of Christians on a very secular college campus, openly hostile to expressions of Christianity. As part of their effort to figure out how to live on this campus, they decided to 'come out' during a campus party weekend. They did this using a confession booth that advertised "Confess Your Sins".

Kicker was, the confession booth was for the Christians to confess how they'd failed as Christians, how they had not lived up to the example of Christ. This act was so shocking to the campus, that they earned a measure of acceptance and respect from the student body. A group once openly hostile, now tolerated and attended their groups and events.

Rather than self-righteous indignation, don and his gang practiced humility - not considering themselves higher than they ought, remembering from where they came on their own journey and how they were formerly trapped in the world of sin.

I'm afraid that my pride caused me to be more like the former than the latter. No, I didn't protest things - I've always thought that was a silly way to reach people and communicate a hope filled message - my self-righteousness was more subtle. I had allowed myself a book understanding of people's problems rather than having a heart felt empathy.

It is hard to follow Christ. It is often painful to accept the truth of his teachings and pursue obedience. There are painful consequences when you work out your salvation. More often than I'd like to admit, while my advice was sound, I was given to frustration rather easily when people didn't immediately follow it. Or struggled to make up their mind. That was my pride. Rather, pride's fruitful cousin - self-righteousness.

It was like life was a multiple choice test, and all we needed was the answer key. Life would work out if we'd all just bubble in the correct circles. And I approached my life and as well as others with that mindset. I did this with people I counseled and some of those that I led. Especially with my wife as she did not live up to my expectations and meet my needs. And to some degree, with myself as I lived behind my mask. I didn't have a lot of grace to give because I wasn't allowing myself to receive it. I had my proverbial fig leaf on as I hid even from God.

The heart is a funny thing. It is described as the wellspring of life and also deceitful above all things. I am told John of the Cross wrote that the language of God is the experience God writes into our lives. That sounds about right. And God has used my experience to replace my heart of stone with a heart of flesh. My time in the dessert has really renewed my love for people and my desire to serve them in the name of Christ. Not perfectly, and I'm learning to give myself grace along the way (still a struggle). This time, though, loving others is not for the benefit of my approval meter.

Who's the Boss?

It has taken a long time to learn, but I have been the king of the 'non-anxious response'. Said another way, I had come to lead my marriage (and participate in other close relationships) out of my fears and anxieties. Fear of rejection, fear of not being loved, and fear of not living up to other's expectations (disappointing others) were the things I was trying to avoid. So, it turns out, I wasn't so much leading as I was placating my own fears.

Much like my dad, I've always tended toward passivity and people pleasing. Ways to relieve my pain and avoid my fears. If I didn't open up, rejection would be less painful. If I did things to make people happy, I wouldn't have to face disappointment. While I was plenty guilty of this in all areas, I am mainly going to focus on my marital system.

Here's the problem: when your highest goal is to keep the peace, you transfer the power in the relationship. When having your own expectations met determines your happiness, the other person is in control. And that, very subtly, is what happened in my marriage. This did not happen by any nefarious plan by my wife, it is simply the equilibrium we achieved to minimize our pain.

Yet, my role is leader. God gifted me and designed me to be a leader. So, it is oh so ironic that in my immediate family I allowed my anxious response take me out of the leadership position. Just like Adam. You know that story, don't you?

Past results have been that, if I'm not leading my marriage, I am then trying to get something out of it. Placing expectations on my wife for my happiness. Rather than a ministry, marriage was about performing to get the reward. That is the definition of being undifferentiated in a relationship, if you've never heard the counseling term for it.

My wife was the boss by default. Just like Eve. Both of them facing the serpent while the men are abandoning their responsibility. My greatest failure in all of this has been that, while I was so focused on my own needs and anxieties, I didn't notice the struggle that my wife was having. The walls of protection that she was erecting. Actually, not noticing is too strong - I certainly did notice them because they caused my wife not to be able to respond to me emotionally, physically or spiritually as my wife. By the time I was emotionally empty enough to suggest getting some outside help, she was emotionally empty enough not to want to pitch in the effort. Further frustration cause by pandering to my fears.

A husband is supposed to provide the security for his wife to open up and be herself. I was so focused on the lack of respect that I was due that I was shutting her down. An exhausting cycle because my response, was to try harder and harder to have the marriage everyone would expect.

In my defense, with the example passed to my by my father, I did not have the tools to do this. My root sin of pride made it very hard to invite people into this. Frustration with God caused me to shut Him out. A bad experience quenched any trust that I did have or might have developed. And no one seemed to notice or care about what they were seeing in me. That is not a statement to try to absolve myself of responsibility, just an observation of the relational system I'd constructed.

So, harder and harder I tried, like a hamster in a wheel. My every misguided effort only served to solidify the status quo. My wife felt more hurt, alone, misunderstood and built more walls of insulation. I felt more lonely, unlovable and disrespected. Legitimate needs and desires that I wanted fulfilled in illegitimate ways. Like the hamster, my tank was empty and I was still nowhere.

Never make a decision alone when you are emotionally exhausted and spiritually empty. For me, when I was at this place, I dropped the pretensions and was emotionally honest. Unfortunately, out of this desperation, rather than pursuing godliness, I took refuge in worldliness. Bad choice.

Here's the thing, that's where we got when power was transferred in my relationship. Like Esau giving up the birthright for some stew, I gave up power to avoid my fears. The process of change requires that I take back leadership. Tough considering the 'comfort' of our known roles. Journeying toward strength means facing my fears and considering my wife's needs alongside my own. Tough because it means denying my legitimate needs and desires for a time to allow my wife the safety and room to heal. It means stepping into my God given and God designed role.

Like walking barefoot your entire life and then being given shoes, it feels awkward but hopefully both my wife and I will adjust to the comfort and protection of the new footwear. It means me having the strength to lead, and her having the strength to let me.