Limousine

Who in their right mind doesn't like to ride in a limo? Doesn't it make you feel very special to ride in a vehicle like that? And when you see one driving around town, there are always those unspoken questions....Who is in there? What's so special about them?

I recently had a conversation with a friend regarding some things that are going on in my life. In fact, it was a conversation that I used to explain pretty much everything that was going on in my life. My friend asked me after an Administrative Board meeting at our church "So, how are you? You seemed like you were a million miles away in there. Are you alright?" That's a big question. It's an even bigger question when you don't realize that you appear to be so removed. Here's how I tried to explain to my friend what was actually going on:

My life is no more extraordinary than the next person's life. But my level of involvement with Jesus Christ is more in question now than ever before in my life. As I've written before, I'm just not sure in what direction I'm being pointed right now. I do know, however, that I'm overwhelmed by the feeling that my spiritual life is at some sort of tipping point. Whether or not that involves my vocation, I don't know. But I feel now like my spiritual life is on the front burner, but not without it's problems.

In my mind, I can see my spiritual life as a limousine.

It's the ride I want to be in. It's comfortable....roomy....safe....and just a little mysterious. It's the big shiny black thing that makes other people look and say Wow, who is that? What's going on with him that warrants a limo?"

But there's more to it. We've all seen limousines leaving weddings, right? We've seen them with the strings tied on to the back bumper, then attached to cans, right? So when the limo is going down the road, the cans bounce and clang and make all kinds of racket. I guess the intention is to announce that the couple inside has just been married and they want everyone to know it. But sometimes my spiritual limo feels like it has those cans tied to the back, too.

One string and can is my work. All I want is to be in this nice smooth, quiet ride up front, but there's this annoying job that is dragging behind making all kinds of noise and is almost an embarrassment at times. It's just one of those things that makes something beautiful (my spiritual life) look so gaudy and all too often pulls my attention away from the view up front.

Another string and can is my family. I'm not saying family is bad. I love my family. But it's not perfect. It takes work...and time. It's not gaudy by any means, and certainly not an embarrassment, but it is still something that is attached to my spiritual life that necessarily diverts my attention from what I feel can only be my ultimate purpose.

Yet another string and can is my own recreation. I still feel these waves of selfishness that make me want to separate and just do what I want to do, regardless of what is right or what is needed. I guess I could also just call it self. Not all the things I choose for recreation are bad. I like to exercise, spend time with friends, watch a movie, and so on. So what's wrong with that? Nothing, in moderation. But I have this tendency to over-indulge in myself. I can convince myself that I deserve it, and that normally clashes with what my spiritual life is calling me to do.

So in this limo I picture myself in the back seat enjoying the ride. But there are these cans...these annoying, distracting cans clanging around behind my ride. I picture myself looking out the back window in disgust, just wishing all these cans wouldn't make so much noise, or be such an obvious detraction from my limo.

I can then see myself standing behind the limo with a scissors....reaching to cut the strings....I can almost feel the relief of having nothing tied to the back of my limo. But then God steps in, and I see something else.

God tells me that severing all these things is not the answer. He wants me in the limo. He wants my spiritual life to be first and foremost. He wants me to give my life and myself to Him, but He wants me to know that my life in the natural is not entirely without purpose.

I see God opening the trunk of the limo, and carefully placing the cans and strings inside, still attached, but no longer dragging behind....no longer a distraction. Those are things that I can bring with me on my ride. They can't ride in front, but they need not be severed. Those things are part of who I am. Those things are all part of what God wants for me. They may be things that I need to learn to handle better. They may be things that need some fixing down the road. They may be things that God has put in my life for my benefit that I don't realize yet. Regardless, they are back there. But they're connected in a way that makes much more sense to me. I feel like I can stop looking back at them, trying to figure out how to deal with them.

And I must say....the view seems much nicer now out the front window of my limo.

Peace,

Mike

Sophie, The Beeping Dog

Our neighbors have a new dog. Her name is Sophie, and she is very cute. She is a Bichon Frise, and for those of you who don't know what they look like (I had no idea, before I met Sophie), I've included a photo. Recently I was getting ready to mow our grass, and my wife said "Now you know Janet & Will got a new dog, right? Her name is Sophie. So if you see her, be nice. Oh, and don't call her over to the fence if she's out". I was going to ask why I couldn't call her over to the fence, because I'm a dog lover and it seemed cruel to just stand and look from afar at a dog that cute. But she continued with her explanation: "They have one of those buried fence things." In my mind, I was already forming the image of me calling the dog over to the chain-link fence to pet her and watching in horror as 240 volts of electricity coursed through her body and turned her rigid before my eyes. What a terrible thought. But my wife continued: "They don't use the shocker thing, but when she starts to get close to the buried wire, her beeper starts going off. Then she knows she's too close to the edge." How very cool is that? I thought to myself. As it turned out, Sophie was inside for the afternoon while I mowed, so my yard work was completed without incident. But I kept rolling that idea around in my head for several more days.

Since that day I've been mildly obsessed with the idea of having something attached to our person that would warn us when we're about to get in trouble. Something to let me know I'm close to danger. Something to remind me when there's a hidden boundary in front of me that I really shouldn't cross. I keep thinking that if there was something that would ring or "beep" when I was about to click on a very bad link on the Internet, or an alarm that would go off right before I use foul language at work, I could avoid a lot of the sin in my life. Sophie is so lucky, I think to myself, I want a beeper, too.

Jump to one week later. I'm at work, in the middle of solving a mini crisis, and I go to one of the other managers to ask if they'll come and help me. After all, I'm always willing to help them, and I've got a bigger problem than they do right now, so why wouldn't they help? But I asked, and then got the response "Nah, I really have a lot of stuff I need to get done today." And they turned back away and continued to do....nothing. I was walking away, fuming, seething, forming all the right things to say to verbally abuse this guy, and as I turned back around to let him have it, a very strange thing happened....

My "beeper" went off.

I stood there, very aware of what was happening to me physically, and felt as if my entire being was screaming at me STOP! No good can possibly come of this. I realized that the little hairs on the back of my neck were standing up as I listened to that little voice inside. But I was also breathing faster, my fists were clenched, I was biting my own teeth so hard my temples hurt, and I have to believe my face was red. But my beeper was still going off. Relax. Walk away. This isn't a fight you need to fight. This is not a new thing, so why is it affecting you this way now? And that was it. Hands relaxed, breathing slowed, face back to normal color, I turned and walked away. It wasn't until several hours later that I made the connection between Sophie's beeper and the little hairs on the back of my neck.

I've had that feeling before, but not always in times of extreme anger or anxiety. I normally feel that when I'm talking to someone about my relationship with Jesus. Or I feel it when I give a short message at church about something I'm passionate about. And sometimes I feel it when I do something very good for someone without anyone knowing about it. Sometimes I feel it while I'm typing a post for this blog. I've always professed that I feel that when the Holy Spirit is close....when I'm in tune with God...when I'm doing something very right. I've always believed that feeling was directly connected to my conscience, thereby making my conscience the medium through which the Holy Spirit guides me and lets me know when I'm on the right track. But this was the first time I felt it when I was facing something that was dark, bad, and just ugly. I've never thought to ask God for that type of Early Warning System. I've always just asked Him to forgive me for leaning into sin, shoulder first, thinking I'm strong enough to resist.

Lead us not into temptation....

I should have known that He could help us avoid bad things sometimes. I should have known that I'm not doomed to failure every time I'm faced with that possibility.

And deliver us from evil....

Deliver us. Deliver me. Not just "fix me after I break myself", but deliver me, unharmed, back to the folds of the saved.

We have a beeper. God gave us an Early Warning System. It's probably something a little different in all of us. Maybe your beeper batteries are dead. Maybe you don't hear the "beep" and you need to tune in to God a little closer like I needed to do. But we've all got a beeper. God hasn't set us up to fail. Granted, we realize how badly we need Him when we do, but He takes no pleasure in our failures, injuries, or shortcomings.

Oh, and just so you know, I'm not jealous of Sophie any more either. I've got a beeper, too. I just wish I was as cute as she is.

Peace,

Mike

If We Are the Body, Then Who's In Charge?

I don't know why it still amazes me that children can say such profound things and not even realize it.

My six-year-old son really keeps my mind on edge. He comes up with questions and observations that just blow me away. Sometimes even when he doesn't understand something, it raises a deep philisophical observation or question for me.

Back on Father's Day, my family visited my father's grave. Not really knowing the significance, Cameron, my son, just continued asking questions as we stood there thinking, praying, trying not to cry, etc. Among these questions was this: "So is Grandpa in there?" as he pointed to the ground under the headstone. "Only his body is there" was my answer, thinking that would end that conversation. "Then where's his head?" he asked me in return. "What? What did he just ask me?" I thought to myself. After a couple probing questions, because now I was curious about his thoughts on this, I realized that in his mind, the head is not actually part of the body. The body is just used by the head, but the head is where a person's essence is contained. This was confirmed several days later in a discussion about Heaven, our souls, and our spirits. His question during that conversation was "so it's just a bunch of heads flying around in Heaven, but all the bodies are buried down here?" Can you imagine the mental images that must be floating around in his little head during these two conversations? He wasn't scared by any of this, just genuinely curious...trying to wrap his brain around this so that he could stow it away and move on to life's next big imponderable.

All of this has raised just a few points in my mind, though, too. We talk often in church about the church being the "body" of Christ. And we easily identify Christ as the "head" of the church. But you know what? I know that personally, there have been times when I've not looked at the two as one complete unit. I have also witnessed others that apparently don't either. I know God is flowing through all that we do. I know that the Holy Spirit is moving among us and keeping us connected. But as material beings, I think it's possible that we often look at Christ as being "there" and at us as being "here". The head separated from the body, so to speak. It occurs to me now that Christ doesn't want a remote-controlled church. He wants to be attached, connected to the core, with all the same life and blood and love and passion flowing through Him that flows through us. He's not just our headquarters, broadcasting commands from afar. He's the Team Leader, and He wants to be right out on the front lines with us, feeling the danger, fighting the enemy, hearing the cries of the wounded around Him. As our "head", He knows that He too is part of the body, part of us. He was hated. He was beaten. He tasted death. He didn't do it because He was bored. He did it because as the head of this body, He needs us to know that He's with us, He's been there, He'll always be there. He's not just a head "flying around in Heaven".

I'm throwing in a song that I really like that sort of goes along with the idea of us being the Body of Christ. I hope you enjoy it.

Peace,

Mike

It's In There

Raise your hand if you've ever been sad.

That's what I thought.

At some point, we all go through times where something just isn't right. We feel sad, and maybe we're not sure why. For some, there's a clinical explanation. Maybe it's depression, or grief, or anxiety. But even when you're told that there's a logical explanation for feeling the way you do, that doesn't make you feel any better.

I recently went through a time like that. For some reason, this past winter really weighed me down. Considering the work situation, the economic situation, the typical midwest "permacloud" winter, and my poor physical condition that is mostly my own fault, I had plenty of good excuses to feel a little down. But the thing that just kept nagging me was that in spite of those external influences, I really didn't have reason to be down. I have an awesome wife, two beautiful, smart, funny kids, my wife and I have both kept our full time jobs, and I know Jesus is my Saviour and that I'm protected and loved. So what was there to whine about?

I still can't answer that. I never did come up with a reason for feeling that way when I've got so much going for me. I did realize, however, that when you're in a personal relationship with Christ, the good feelings and happiness are never gone from you. Sometimes they're clouded from your vision. Sometimes you get distracted. Sometimes even when you think you're really focusing on what matters and you know that God is at work in your life, you still miss what He's actually doing. It took a trip throught the country recently for me to realize that.

As I've said before, one of the responsibilities I carry at work is to make deliveries. In Elkhart County, many of those deliveries require short trips through Amish country, away from orange barrel-laced roads around our factory. All winter long I made those trips, occasionally enjoying the beauty of fresh snow on the barren corn fields that mark both sides of the road. But most times it was just a wet, gray, nervous trip, made as quickly as road conditions would allow. But about 3 weeks ago, as I drove the route that takes me down roads that often require a patient wait to get around horses pulling buggies, I looked into a couple of the same fields that seemed so depressing throughout the winter. And I smiled. In one farmer's field were ten or twelve horses, gathered into a half-circle around 2 "brand new" ponies. And I mean new. Barely able to stand, still wet and fuzzy, the ponies would stand up and wobble around on legs that just seemed way to long, but the adult horses kept closing in around them so they could lean on them as they tried to gain their balance. It made me think of all the people that have kept me from stumbling too far away from God my whole life. It made me remember that the world isn't about my comfort or relative happiness. There must be a certain amount of resolve on my part to make my world better. And, as I said, the ponies made me smile. 3 months ago, there was dead plants, snow, and mud in that field. Then there was God's message to me that came attached to a smile:

"If you think that what I've given you is gone because you can't feel happy, you're wrong. It's in there. It's in there Mike, and as long as you keep believing in Me, and keep serving my Kingdom, it will never leave you."

And that's it. Does that seem too simple? At times I'm sure it probably is. But I also know that I typically look too hard and ask the wrong questions when I'm seeking God's presence in my life. He's given me all that I need. He'll continue to give me all that I need. I'll be sad again sometime, I'm sure. But this is one more lesson He's given me to use when those feelings return, as I'm they sure they will. With God's help, though, maybe next time won't feel so heavy to me.

My prayer for you is not that you look harder for God in your life. It's not that you have some sort of huge revelation that changes your views on everything. No, my prayer is that you simply realize that God can give you all that you need. You get to keep it, but to keep it you must share it. And you must stay in touch with Him through it all. My prayer is that the Holy Spirit guides your eyes to the ponies, but doesn't blind you to the mud.

When you know God and His son, Jesus Christ, you're given everything that matters. And even in those times when you feel you've lost it, be assured that if you love the Lord, it's in there.

Peace,

Mike

Spend Wisely

The Story of the Greedy Farmer From Luke 12 (The Message)

13Someone out of the crowd said, "Teacher, order my brother to give me a fair share of the family inheritance."
14He replied, "Mister, what makes you think it's any of my business to be a judge or mediator for you?"
15Speaking to the people, he went on, "Take care! Protect yourself against the least bit of greed. Life is not defined by what you have, even when you have a lot."
16-19Then he told them this story: "The farm of a certain rich man produced a terrific crop. He talked to himself: 'What can I do? My barn isn't big enough for this harvest.' Then he said, 'Here's what I'll do: I'll tear down my barns and build bigger ones. Then I'll gather in all my grain and goods, and I'll say to myself, Self, you've done well! You've got it made and can now retire. Take it easy and have the time of your life!'
20"Just then God showed up and said, 'Fool! Tonight you die. And your barnful of goods—who gets it?'
21"That's what happens when you fill your barn with Self and not with God."

How do you spend your time? Are you as concerned about what you're doing with your time as you are with what you're doing with your money? Isn't our time here a gift from God? How about our money...is that a gift from God?

These are a few of the questions that have been rolling around in my head lately.

There's a lot of talk these day about money. Everything right now seems to revolve around the presence or absence of money in our lives. Last year when the stock market tooks its tumble, you couldn't go anywhere without hearing about all the folks who had saved for retirement, lived simply, and lost everything. With the seemingly smooth stroke of some sort of cosmic wand, millions of people went from feeling secure and excited about retiring to being in fear of that same thing. I remember in the years before that, you couldn't watch television for an hour without seeing a commercial for some bank or investment company telling you that your time was running out. You must invest now. But in the grand scheme of things, we live what, maybe 20-25 years in retirement if we're lucky? I understand, trust me, that we need to save. And we all want to be at least moderately comfortable when our working days are finally done. But when you consider the amount of time that will be spent in retirement and compare that to eternity, don't you wonder if we're worried about the wrong things?

To "save time" and "spend time" may not be literally possible as with money, but you can use your time wisely to prepare yourself for eternity. That's an investment worth saving for.

Peace,

Mike

Leaning Over the Wheel

Thursday was one of the foggiest days I can remember.  Ever.  I was making deliveries in our "big truck" Thursday morning and I just couldn't believe how hard it was to see.  Driving a large, heavy vehicle in conditions like that made me a little nervous.  At one point, I caught myself leaning all the way forward, up over the steering wheel, squinting to see oncoming traffic, signals, and road signs.  It occurred to me that there have been times in my life that felt like that, too.

I think that when our focus shifts from Godly things and our attention is pulled toward living instead of life itself, we find ourselves in a fog like that.  Sometimes, when it's just a small distraction, you can just look around a little bit harder and still find your way fairly easily.  But sometimes, even when we really want our lives centered around God we get really distracted and we find ourselves in a situation like the fog on Thursday.  As I leaned over the wheel, I found myself reacting to things immediately.  A stop sign would suddenly appear and I would jump on the brakes.  Or I'd see oncoming headlights and I'd hit the brakes and move a little farther toward the edge of the road.  When I think about living life like that, I feel a little sick.  I remember times when I was far from God and I could look no farther than what was happening right now in my life.  All I could do is react to things as they came up, and sometimes that's a little overwhelming.

An added variable that I experienced that day was the result of temperatures hovering around freezing.  As the fog fell on the roads, it formed an invisible layer of ice.  This was not even "black ice" as we experience here so often.  There was no sheen, no reflection...it was totally hidden....like a trap.  But I drove.  I drove excruciatingly slow.  I leaned over the wheel and freaked every time I saw movement ahead of me.  I turned the radio down.  I stopped sipping my coffee.  All I could do is lean forward and take it, whatever "it" was.

That's a terrible way to live.  Not the driving part, I really enjoy that part of my job.  But to live a life that consists of nothing more than squinting to see what your next problem is going to be just isn't spiritually healthy.  Nor is it what God intended for us.

Later that day I looked outside and saw the rain falling.  February rain in Indiana is no real shocker.  In fact, we have a lot of those days and normally they make me feel a little down and maybe a little sleepy.  But as I watched the rain that particular day, it occurred to me that the rain had cleared the fog, and had also washed the thin film of ice from the roads.  How ironic....on a cloudy afternoon in February, the rain actually washed away the perils of the morning.  Visibility was fine....all the schools were back in session.  God had showed up for me in a most interesting way.

So if you find yourself leaning forward more often than you'd like, or if you're always squinting to try to see what trouble life is getting ready to give you, or if you just feel like you can't find your way through the fog in your life, remember this:  God gave us Jesus Christ for a reason.  God gave us Jesus so that in our times of confusion or fogginess we can call on Him.  He'll come....He'll clear the way for us.  In fact, He already has.  In our times of fear, sadness, desperation, anger, or dread....we can call on Jesus.  He doesn't promise us a lifetime of sunny days.  But there's healing and clarity....even in the rain that will surely come.  Just don't forget to call on Him when things are really great, too.  He likes to hear "thank you" just as much as we do.  

Living will always have its challenges, so it's in vain that we focus on happy living.  Instead, let's praise the One who created life itself, and find joy in the offering of salvation through Jesus Christ.

Peace,

Mike

My Friend

I'd like to tell you about my friend.

I have this friend.  He's been a friend of mine longer than I can remember.  He was my friend when I was a little boy, and we managed to stay friends through my teen years and into adulthood.  This was a guy who, when he saw me doing something stupid just quietly reminded me that I knew better, that my parents raised me better than that.  Most of the time, I acknowledged his opinion, but went on being an idiot.  For some reason, he still wanted to be my friend.

I went off to college for a short while and did some really stupid things.  I still thought about my friend from time to time, and I knew that he would probably give me some sound advice about my behavior if he were there, but I really kind of kept my distance for awhile.  I knew from the past that he would still be my friend later, and I was having fun.

College ended pretty early for me and I came home and started working full time, moved into my own place, and just kept being an idiot.  By now I was only seeing my friend three or four times a year, and when we did talk, it was kind of uncomfortable because I didn't know what to say anymore.  I didn't really feel like I knew him well enough any more to just "hang out".  But we always assured each other that we wouldn't forget about each other and that we were still friends, even if just barely.

I lived alone for over ten years, and during that time I went through some really shallow, dangerous relationships.  Somehow I managed to stay out of trouble.  Many things could have gone wrong, but nothing did.  No legal trouble, no kids outside of marriage, no dependency, no nothing.  I didn't see much of my friend at all during that time, but I knew that it was because I wasn't making the effort.  I talked to several people during that period of my life who told me that my friend was still around, and that he was concerned for me because of how I was living.  As usual, I respected his concern and his opinion, but I continued doing things my way.

I got married, bought a house, and started a family.  Still there were no big problems, no tragedy, no big hurdles. 

As happens often when people reach this particular stage in life, something clicked and I felt the need to get back to church.  Not for my sake, but for my children, of course.  I was raised in the church...I knew the story and the routine.  So off I went to find a church that was convenient near where we lived.  While "shopping" at Trinity UMC, would you believe I ran into my friend. And for the first time in fifteen years, I felt like it was time I made the effort to get reacquainted with him.  That was roughly 2004.  In May of 2006, my father was diagnosed with cancer and was given just a short time to live.  

This part of the story could sound very tragic.....but I had my friend with me.  For some reason, God chose to reunite me with my friend at just the right time to rebuild a relationship that would truly support me through the only thing in my life that could be called "tragedy".   I had developed an incredible relationship with my father through working together for 8 years.  As his condition worsened, my friend continually showed me how to find God's work in what was happening with my family.  He showed me how my mother loved my father in a 1 Corinthians kind of way....doing first and feeling later.  He showed me how all the people around my family rallied to support us in our time of greatest need.  He showed me God's mercy in ending a life after six months of illness that could have gone on in misery and pain for years.  My friend did that for me.  He gave me the strength to tell my unconscious father that it was o.k. to go....that I would take care of the family, that he didn't need to fight any more.  He gave me the opportunity to watch him take his last breath less than one minute after I said those words to him.  I've never needed more closure than that.  My friend gave me the ultimate gift at the low point of my adult life.  He gave me Peace.

My friend has been giving me gifts since I was a baby.  He did things for me while I wasn't paying attention to him.  He has always been my friend, even when we didn't talk.  I've asked my friend if I could talk about him in my blog and he was very comfortable with that.  I asked him if I could offer his friendship to all the people I come in contact with, and he is very excited about that.  I warned him that many people may take him up on his offer of friendship and support....again he thinks that will be great.  So I offer you the opportunity to have a friend that I've had my whole life.  He'll be there when you need him, and also when you think you don't.

Oh...one more thing....my friends name......

                                                           Jesus Christ. 

He's my Saviour, He's my brother, He's my everything.  He said to tell you that if you need Him....just visit your local church.  If they preach the Word of God, you'll surely find Him.

Peace,

Mike

From the Mouths of Babes (and Six-Year-Olds)

Six-year-olds are absolutely amazing. Children in general are absolutely amazing.

We go through this ritual every Saturday before we leave for worship service at church. As we're getting our coats on, my son (six years old) will almost always ask "Do we have to sit through a service?". You see, my family worships on Saturday nights because of work schedules, but I normally try to get the kids back to church on Sunday morning for Sunday School. I like to go to Sunday School. So do they. But for a six-year-old it makes things confusing. He never knows for sure if we're going for worship service, (which he's required to sit through now that he's in school) or if we're going for Sunday School.

I remember when I was six and I had to sit through a service. Granted, in the Methodist church the service is only an hour long, but that's an eternity when there's a living room full of new stuff from Christmas waiting back home. But it seems my son has found signs to look for in church. He's apparently noticed things about the sanctuary when you walk in that tell you that today's service is different.

At our church, we celebrate communion the first weekend of each month. And when you walk into the sanctuary, you can see all the elements on the altar, wrapped and covered in clean, white linens. My son, who recently received communion for the first time, now recognizes those items. Tonight, shortly after the service began, my wife leaned over to me and said "Cameron asked me when we walked in if we were having community tonight". We both giggled a little, then we refocused on the opening music. I sat there for a while thinking about that, though. He doesn't know what the word community means. It's doubtful that he could use it in a sentence. He's heard us talk about communion before. What an interesting accident that was.

The word communion has its own Webster's entry, and its definition is not limited to the ceremony we practice at church. But I rarely use it for any other reason. Even more rarely do I hear it used by others for another reason. It seems it has lost its identity as anything but the bread and the cup for me. But to substitute community instead of communion really draws my attention. How incredible is it that together, as the body of Christ, we celebrate God's offering to us, His Son. And wherever you go, it's in groups large and small, together, that this celebration is held. My son, without knowing, taught me tonight that the gift of the bread and the cup is given to me as part of a community, not just as an individual.

So let's celebrate community together. Let's see if we can find hope in that same loaf and cup on the altar that tells my son that this is truly something different.

Peace and Blessings,

Mike