Notifications

In our digital age, it seems like we are overrun by notifications.  Every app on your smartphone, every email software package, and every messaging client sends a constant barrage of notifications that something has happened.  Gone are the days when you have to actually wonder if someone has sent you a message, if a friend has posted that they're having coffee, or if it's your turn in Words with Friends.  What I'm finding increasingly discouraging, however, is that it is very difficult now to disconnect, and it's even more difficult to focus on a task without the pressure of knowing there are other things that want my attention.  I can't help but think, though, that it would be so nice if our messages from God came in the same manner.  How cool would it be if you were facing a situation and you were wondering if it was some sort of message from God meant just for your instruction or benefit and a notification would present itself as if to say yes, this is a message from God... pay attention.  Long stretches without prayer?  Weekends away with no worship?  No problem, you didn't miss a thing... you have 2 notifications of God messages that you've missed.  Click, click.... got 'em.

As a good friend of mine has said... "Guess what Snowflake, it doesn't work that way".  God's messages can be subtle, discreet, sometimes hidden in the turmoil.  The real lesson most often comes in the search, not in the discovery. God's messages to us are normally lessons that we have already learned - sometimes what we hoped for, sometimes not, but it was necessary for us to look for them... search for them... desperately seek them... and experience all the things that stand in front of them before we truly understand them.  So don't expect a little popup counter to tell you that God has sent you a message.  Instead, do the work.  See what God needs you to see along the way.  Talk to Him.  Praise him for what He might do in your life.  Thank him for not always giving you what you want... we all know how ugly THAT would be...  Wade through the messes that you make to find what God has to teach you.  It's like back in our school days:  You cannot just give the answer to the story problem.  You have to show your work.  Learning the lesson only comes from working through the process, not from checking the back of the book for the answer.  Let the Holy Spirit move you... lift you up... give you peace.  That's how you'll know that something has happened.

Peace,

Mike

Monumental

Strange.

That's the only way I could explain it.  As I prepared to make what will likely be the last trip ever to my mother's lake home, someone asked me how I felt about the place being sold.  Strange.  The place was my father's idea (and dream), and since he's been gone, the family has made less and less of an effort every year to spend time up there.  As things progress and it gets closer to the day when the keys are turned over to the new owners, there have been a few loose ends to take care of.  I spent a little time this past weekend removing the last of our personal items from the shed, so the place is now "ready-to-use" for the new owners as soon as the deal is done.  Over the past 5 summers, I've made several trips up by myself to putz around, put in the pier, mow the grass, etc.  Those hour-long drives up and back have always been a really solid time to reflect on memories of dad that surround that place.  The sadness that wells up when I consider the reality that in a week it will no longer be ours to visit, and the reality that those trips will be gone forever is just strange.

I had a friend with me to finish up the work, which was a welcome distraction.  I think if I had been alone it would have been a lot worse.  The task was completed swiftly and without incident.  But throughout the remainder of the busy weekend, I kept finding myself drawn back to that sadness...drawn back to trying to figure out what is so frustratingly grey about the thought of the lake place being sold.

Here's what I discovered about myself in that reflection:  I'll surely always have my memories of my dad, of that I'm certain.  But I've also realized that there are still tangible things that connect those memories of him to me, to "now"... things that I've made into monuments in memory of him.  There are physical, real things that remind me of him and while they always invoke some degree of sadness or grief, I'm always strangely grateful that they are there.  Maybe it's because I can see them, feel them, experience them, and still keep on  living daily life.  Maybe they help reassure me that I've truly moved on, but without forgetting.

The lake place has easily been the biggest monument of them all that has required my attention and interaction.  The location itself embodies so much of what my dad was.  It's a monument that will now be just a memory itself, and I think the sadness comes from feeling like there's one less strand connecting the vapors that are the memories of my dad to the more substantial here-and-now.  One less thing to keep him real.  I know that there are other such places that I get to encounter that will eventually pass from my reality, but the lake place is by far one of the most fundamental.

I'm still not sure if what I feel is good or bad.  To me, sadness is not always bad.  It can be really cleansing when I work through it and discover what's driving my emotions.  It's just hard after 5+ years to have this much sentiment welling up inside again and not know what to do with it.  It feels like it needs to be directed somewhere... maybe to a different monument so the feelings are not lost forever, and another connecting strand can then remain intact for a while longer.

I continue to pray and give thanks for the family I've been given.  We all feel something different right now, I'm sure.  But it's a monumental time for us, and it's necessary.  We're built to feel this way, I think, but I believe we are also built to realize that this is not where we are rooted.  The monuments that we build here are temporary, just like we ourselves are temporary.  Sometimes it seems so silly to feel so strongly about such fleeting things... but to know that kind of emotion makes it possible for me to love my God the way that I do.  I don't know that I could feel about my heavenly Father the way I do if I hadn't been created to feel so strongly for my earthly one.

Peace,

Mike

Eraser

What kind of life do you lead... a "pencil" life or a "pen" life?

In my arrogance, I typically do crossword puzzles with an ink pen.  Not because I'm really smart, but because I like to dare myself to be mistake-free.  Inevitably, I always end up scratching out a letter or a word that I was just sure was correct that ends up being completely wrong.  What I'm left with then is a grid with a bunch of swirled pen strokes and dark blotches all over the page.  Really smart people use a pencil... you know... just in case.  But even with a pencil, it never seems to erase everything. There always seems to be the faintest hint of what was on the page prior to putting an eraser to it.  And then there are the little rolled up crumbs that come off the eraser that end up in your lap when you brush them off the page.  Even with a pencil and eraser, there are subtle reminders that a mistake was made.

So I ask you again... which kind of life do you live?  Do you feel like all that you've done in your life is permanent?  Or does if feel like you can put an eraser to a few things and clean it up a little bit?  Maybe you want a "pencil" life, but can't escape the guilty feelings that make you feel like your history has been written with a Sharpie.  Maybe you do understand that mistakes can be erased, but you still see or feel all the little crumbs and faint lines that are nagging reminders of things you've done wrong.

I'd like to think of my life as more of an "Etch-a-Sketch" kind of life.  You see, God writes most of His teachings in Sharpie.  There's not much about God's Word that is conditional.  I think that's by design, because human nature dictates that when there's wiggle room on an issue, we really wiggle.  We tend to try to bend it to suit our immediate circumstances or absolve us of a particular transgression.  But when it comes to God's record of what we've done wrong, we get to introduce the DEaS (that stands for Divine Etch-a-Sketch, in case you haven't been following along).  You see, God doesn't scratch out our sins and failures with a pen, leaving all that ugly, blotchy mess as evidence of a transgression.  And He doesn't simply put eraser to our lives and leave the ghost of an imprint and a crumby mess in our laps to deal with later.  He puts both hands on us, shakes us up a little sometimes, flips us over sometimes, and offers us a clean slate.  Mistakes are not just erased, but forgotten altogether.  If we choose to hold on to our mistakes, it's not because He wants us to.  He wants us to learn from them, lean on Him, and move on, making a better choice next time. He wants it to become our nature through practice to live the life He has planned for us... He doesn't want to hold up the paper and say "See?  See all these mistakes you made?".

This type of life is not one that requires starting as a child.  There are adult versions too.  It's not a life that's reserved for people who were raised in a godly home by perfect parents.  It's one of those things that is NOT conditional.  It's for everyone, any time.  It's never to late to drop the pen... never too late to start living a life that glorifies God and all He's done to erase our sins through Jesus Christ... never too late to see how full a clean slate can feel.

Peace,

Mike

Twice Removed

I was recently asked if I'd be willing to talk with a group of 5th and 6th grade Sunday School students about Creation.  There was no real script, no debate to be won or lost, just some open conversation about Creation and evolution to see what the kids had on their minds.  Honestly, I was sort of curious about whether or not it WAS on their minds and whether or not it was something they could or would talk about.

I thought our discussion went very well.  Sometimes having a serious conversation with children that age is like nailing Jell-O to a tree, but this group was fairly attentive and gave some honest, open answers about their ideas on Creation and evolution.  I think we all gained something valuable from the conversation.

But what struck me was something I discovered about myself while reading some articles on how to speak to someone that subscribes to evolution as the origin of life in preparation for our group discussion.  I read that many times, the person that does not believe in Creation also does not believe in God. That person many times bases their beliefs in "facts" and scientific data, or chooses to believe something that is based on nothing more than a feeling or lack thereof.  That's where the trap is set for people like me.  I've always been eager to accept the challenge of convincing someone I'm right about an idea while debating the topic on their terms.  I've always thought it was more convincing to "win" on someone else's home court.

But look what that does....

Everything I believe starts with a belief in God.  It's my faith in God that makes me whole and gives credibility to my beliefs.  It's my belief that the Bible is the inspired Word of God, conveyed by the hands of men, that lends Truth to my story.  If you are a believer in God, have you ever heard this?

"Okay... explain why Creation is the true story of how life began without using the Bible."

That sounds like a dare to me.  And I'm a real sucker for a dare like that.  So I've always started trying to debate my position while tiptoeing around what the Bible says.  I've tried to think of really cool, discreet, subconscious ways to make my "opponent" come to the same conclusion I have.

Guess what.... That will never work.

I believe in God.  The Bible is God's word.  Creation is in the Bible.  Creation is the origin of life.

Telling me to "prove" that without using God or the Bible would be like me telling that other person to prove evolution without science or theory.  Debating Creation without using the Bible is removing God not once, but twice.  Yep, twice.  That's what hit me between the eyes when I was reading.

Under those terms, God is first removed from  my life, if just for the length of the conversation with the non-believer. To argue my point without referring to God as the Creator is removing Him from my life.  If I'm not for Him, than I'm against Him.  Not proclaiming that all things were created by God is no better than denying that same truth.

Bad news for me.

God is removed a second time because in that moment I've temporarily removed any possibility of introducing God to someone who truly needs to know Him.  I've forsaken my commission to introduce God to someone just for the sake of winning on the road.  I've removed God from that person's life, too, at least on a tangible level.

Bad news for them.

God, twice removed... Gone from two people's lives for a few moments because of my stupid pride and arrogance that leads me to believe that I have the ability to make someone believe without telling the Truth.

Luckily, I cannot actually remove God from anyone's life including my own.   Luckily, God can always win... even when the odds are against it.  It's time for me to understand that God's Word is not a crutch that demands some sort of excuse, or that needs to be removed from debate to allow for a "fair" playing field.  I think I'll choose to use it whenever I can to help people understand the Truth.  I think I'll continue to study it so that the Truth becomes clearer to me.  I think I'll choose to rely on God and his Word to fill me and make me whole.  I think I'll choose to try harder to avoid getting sucked into situations that tempt me to remove God from my life, and someone else's.

Peace,

Mike

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

New - Part Two

This is Part II of a post from 10-2-2009. Click here to read Part I.

I was standing in the kitchen a day or two after I had prayed for God to take control of my health and lead me to whoever or whatever would help me restore my health. My wife said to me, somewhat out of the blue, "have you ever considered checking out that weight loss program at the hospital?" "Yes, but it's very expensive. I don't know if we can afford it" I answered. Her reply was something like "might not hurt to just check it out". Those were probably the strongest words she could have spoken to me that day. I needed to know that someone else was concerned, too, so that it wasn't just me doing it for me. So I decided that would be the starting point. I went to the free introductory meeting, got the information and the prices, and went home and started thinking about how that could work.

I did the math and found that by eliminating all of the destructive eating that I was doing, I freed up exactly enough money weekly to cover the cost of the program.

What a coincidence.

There were some preliminary tests to be done so that the administrators had a solid reference point, but I had just had most of those same tests done by my family physician, so all of those results were available with minimal effort or additional cost.

Again, what a coincidence.

The first night that I went, I saw a friend from church that was just starting, too. She and I both said that it was so nice to see a familiar face and it would be great to have someone we each knew to help with accountability.

Just another coincidence, I suppose.

And it started. Just like that. I started the program June 15th, 2009. I lost 13 pounds the first week. And it just kept coming off. I would weigh myself at night before bed, then again when I got up in the morning. I would smile, sometimes almost laugh as I thanked God and looked at the numbers on the scale. I lost weight every day...every week. A couple weeks into it, I started feeling a wave of energy that lasted longer than I had ever experienced. I didn't want to sleep. I couldn't wear myself out at work. I couldn't seem to find enough things to do to exhaust myself. Within a week of first feeling that, one of the administrators of the program handed out a twelve week training program for running. "No way. The only way you'll catch me running is if the pizza guy forgets to leave my breadsticks" was my canned response to running. The program is a walk-to-run training regimen that takes someone who doesn't run from walking to running 5k (3.1 miles) in twelve weeks. Having never been an athlete, I was skeptical. I just assumed that all those programs were for people who were already athletic. I showed it to my wife, and she said that if I was going to do it, she wanted to do it with me.

What a coincidence.

The first time the training called for a thirty second run, I thought I would die. I smoked for twenty years. I was still overweight, but that was changing fast. But we stayed with it. We did it 6 nights a week, just like the plan called for. Our kids went with us on nights where there wasn't much running. And I ran. We ran. We started to schedule things around our training, leaving enough time to fit it in every day. And the schedule held. Our lives didn't fall apart or become impossible to coordinate, even though we had just added in a new daily task. We both felt good, and it worked.

What a coincidence.

On a cold, rainy Sunday in July, my wife said she really didn't want to go out and run in the rain. We have a good treadmill that had seen very little use beyond the first two weeks in January every year, so she was going to do her time on the treadmill. Obviously, we can't run together on the treadmill, so I told her I was going to run outside. I walked out, stood in the driveway, and thought to myself:

You've never run a mile in your life. You've never even run just to see how far you can run. This running thing isn't as bad as you thought. You should just run today. Just run.

So I did. I ran. And it felt good, really good. At a mile and a half, I smiled. I looked up and said "look at me, God, I'm running. You've got me running!" Guess how far I ran that night? Yep, 3.1 miles. Five weeks into a twelve week program, I ran 3.1 miles. And the weight just kept coming off.

What a coincidence.

Since then I've run in four 5k events, winning third in my age group at one of those. My wife and I have run two of those together, and we have one more scheduled for October 10. I started a 10k training program three weeks ago, and I'm running about twenty miles a week now. I ride a bicycle and I kayak. I'm not trying to drag out a list of all my accomplishments. These are not MY accomplishments. If you go back and read my early posts, you'll notice that there's no mention of any of this before now. This is new. This is God's prescription for my health. And I can't help but feel that it came just in time.

What a coincidence.

At the beginning of the weight loss program, I had to set a goal weight. I didn't want to get wrapped up in the numbers, but I understood that there has to be a goal. I set my goal weight at 200 lbs. At that time, I was almost 270. The NP told me that 200 would be a healthy weight for me, so that's what went in the book. On September 23, 2009, fifteen weeks into the program, I weighed in at 198 lbs. That was a little over two weeks ago. I've continued to lose weight in those two weeks, and I continue to run with my wife. Here's some more of my numbers/stats/info:

Blood pressure going in: 145/85
Blood pressure now: 106/62

Resting heart rate going in: 90
Resting heart rate now: 50

Cholesterol down 70 points
Blood sugar dead-center in "normal" range

Over 27 total inches of body dimension eliminated (neck, chest, waist, and thighs)

Waist size going in: 40-42
Waist size now: 34

Shirt/jacket size going in: XXL/50 regular
Shirt/jacket size now: MEDIUM/ 42-43 regular

No more antidepressant medication
No more triglyceride medication
Cholesterol medication under review, possibly removing it, too

I've had surgery on both of my hands this summer, relieving some long-standing pain and symptoms form Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. I've had a torn rotator cuff that's scheduled for surgery on October 15, 2009. I also have a 10k race schedule for 9 days after that. Should be interesting.

So, what is my point in sharing all of this? Well, like I said, it's been a year of renewal and repair for me. And it's all been at God's direction. All of this just feels as though, like I've written before, God is staging me for something bigger. There may not be a clear path ahead of me yet, but He's trying to give me a sense of direction. Maybe a starting point. I don't know. But it feels like a new direction. It's kind of funny.....the name of the program I'm in at the hospital is called New Direction.

What a coincidence.

Peace,

Mike

New - Part One

I turned forty this year. I still don't have the urge to go out a buy a convertible sports car, get a tattoo, or sell everything and travel to Spain, so I guess I'm not officially in my "mid-life crisis" yet. I don't feel old. In fact it's been a year of renewal and repair for me. And I guess I'd like to explain that.

Some of you who actually read this know me personally. Some of you knew me a long time ago, but haven't seen me for awhile. Others, I'm assuming, don't know me from Adam, but are accidentally reading this. Anyway, here's the story of my year so far, mostly regarding my physical health.

First off, I want to establish the fact that I'm not an athlete, nor have I ever been one. I played no sports in school. None. Ever. I was more interested in getting home and heading out into the woods near our house and splashing down the creek bed with my best friend. I started working a "real" job at age fifteen, and I think I worked pretty hard. For the most part, I've worked physically hard at most everything I've done. But I've also had this appetite my whole adult life that seemed to be a force bent on destroying me physically. When I combined 20+ years of being really physical (not athletic or healthy) with 20+ years of eating all my favorite comfort foods (pizza, pasta, chips, etc.) I found myself in the worst physical shape of my life at the end of last year. There have been other conditions that may have contributed to my condition then, like arthritis, but for the most part it was the result of two decades of filling myself with enormous amounts of very unhealthy foods and drinks, along with smashing my body into everything in front of me just to prove that even though I was very overweight, I was strong.

The arthritis over the winter left me feeling unable to do anything physically. You can read my very first post "My Long Winter's Nap" to get an idea of where I was at that time. I had all the excuses I needed to just continue to become Earth's version of Jabba the Hut from Star Wars. But God awakened me just enough to start looking for relief from the arthritis. The medicine is out there, but it's very, very expensive. Guess what? My insurance company covered it, minus a thirty dollar copay. Eight thousand dollars every 6 weeks, and they covered it. The results were almost immediate. Relief from the pain came almost immediately. I rode that wave for several months, feeling pretty good about myself. But the weight gain continued. I still ate and drank everything I wanted, whenever I wanted. I'd ask my wife if my weight bothered her. She was always kind enough to say "no". So I'd tell myself that I was o.k. even though I had to hold my breath to bend over and tie my shoes in the morning. Naturally, I started outgrowing clothes. At that time (April-May 2009) I was pushing 270 lbs. I'm 5'9" tall. When I went to our local box store to buy some clothes, I found I had then moved into the "extended sizes" and was going to have to start paying an extra $2-$5 for each article of clothing. There was a reckoning that day. I bought a couple of shirts and pairs of pants that fit, but vowed to try to change.

I think that's the point where I normally started losing the battle. I'm assuming that many folks out there know what I mean. There's some short-term resolve that comes when you're in that condition, but it's normally very short-term. And it's immediately followed by a sense of failure and a loss of self respect. I saw friends at church and work that were enrolled in a weight loss program at our local hospital and were losing weight rapidly, were exercising and really having fun. I wanted that. But when I inquired about the cost, I immediately discounted that as a possibility. So I continued to wonder how I could possibly fix it. In May of this year, my blood sugar was high enough that I was begging my doctor not to label me diabetic...."just mark me 'glucose intolerant' or whatever. I can fix this, I just need time". My blood pressure was up to 145/90, and my doctor was also talking about medication for that. I was already on cholesterol medication, triglyceride medication, and anti-depressants. Can any of you relate?

Then came my God moment.

Near the end of May, I was really losing the battle. The arthritis was no longer limiting me, but I was limiting me. Again, for a snapshot of where I was emotionally at that time, see my post "It's In There". So I prayed. That's a pretty novel idea, huh? I realized something as I tried to ask God for help regarding my physical condition. For a very long time I've known that I can give things up to God and He helps. I've seen it happen. I'm very comfortable with that arrangement. I'm also very aware of my limitations as His child, a created being. But it occurred to me very vividly that day that my physical being...my body...my health...was something that I had never considered giving Him control of. I guess in my mind, I was to be the steward of my body. To go to Him and admit that I ruined what He gave me to care for was something I had been unwilling to do.

So that was my prayer. "Father, I've ruined this machine you built for me. I thought that I knew better than you how to take care of it. I've readily given you control all the things in my life that weren't right, except this. I realize now that you created this body, so no one but you would know how to keep it working. Please show me how I can restore this body physically to a point that pleases You, not others, and is a testament to your love for me." It was mere days after that prayer that everything started to change.

I'll end Part I here just so none of you fall asleep. You can click here to read Part II.

Peace,

Mike

Better Than A Nail

I'd like to offer a brief warning about this post. It's not meant to turn anyone's stomach, but I do describe very briefly a medical procedure I had done recently. The video at the end also contains a fairly graphic representation of the pain the Christ endured as He neared the end of His life. I make no apologies, but I do offer a warning. Considered yourself advised.



I had surgery last week. It was a carpal tunnel release surgery on my right hand. I had my left hand done a month ago, and it's healing nicely. Going in this time, I knew pretty much what to expect, which parts would hurt the worst, which would not hurt at all, how the whole surgery room procedure would go. It's an outpatient procedure, and it's just my hand, so it really was no big deal. But I knew, having done this once before, that when the doctor injected the three big gobs of local anesthesia into the palm of my hand, it was going to hurt. That was all I thought about as my mother (yes, my mother...I'm forty but I still throw her a bone on occasion and let her take care of me) drove me to the surgery center. I wasn't worried, like I said - I survived it once. I just knew that would be the worst part.

As they prepped me for surgery I started thinking of how I could minimize the little burst of pain and uncertainty that comes when they start injecting you like that. I decided I would think about other people that were going through physical storms that were enduring much more pain and suffering than I was. I would think of my friend Jack, who just had surgery on his heart...ribs spread, bones and organs moved around, the works. I'd think of my dad who went through excruciating pain and suffering before he died. I'd think of all these things and within a few minutes, my hand would be numb and all would be well in the world. That would get me through my "mini trauma".

All was set, and here he came. Evil, menacing grin on his face as he walked up to me with that giant syringe (no, really, my doctor has a pretty good sense of humor, and we had talked about the shot being the worst part, so he was really laying it on). He stuck it in my hand, started pressing, and as the skin started stretching, I remembered why I hated that part. I forgot all about my plan to divert my attention at first. As he stuck the needle in the second time, I just relaxed, laid my head back, decided to just "man up" and take it. I was just getting ready to pull up all my mental images of the sufferings of others when my doc said "all kidding aside, I know this really hurts". And my reply?

"Better than a nail driven through your hand."

What? Did I say that? Where did that come from? That wasn't in the script. But it was a message for me, out of my own mouth. God knew that I still feel so unworthy of the suffering that Christ endured for me. God knew that once that thought was in my head, no amount of pain that day would allow me to feel sorry for myself. I laid there for the next two or three minutes, now totally unaware of what was going on with my hand. It wasn't numb yet, but it ceased to matter. I had this image in my head of the literal process of a soldier spiking Christ's hands. I felt so small. I felt how cold the surgery center really was. I felt so petty and weak. But God knows how to deal with that, too.

The next string of thoughts were of God's reason for that. He cares so much for me, that He would allow His own Son to be defiled and abused beyond what humans were designed to bear.

How much must He love me? How much must He love you? Would you be willing to take His place on the cross?


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