Gratitude – Dr. Kirk Lewis

My Dad

Background Passages: Psalm 73:26; Galatians 5:22-23; John 1: 45-51; Psalm 23

I seldom use this space to get personal, I generally prefer to stay with the lessons God is teaching me each week. Today seems an exception.

My Dad passed away on October 5, just five days short of his 98th birthday. In the days since, we’ve been busy arranging the memorial service he planned years ago, pulling all the pieces together to reflect on a life lived so well for so long.

On one hand, it’s hard to grieve deeply when he lived independently every day of his life except for the last week before he died, even if his ability to do everything he wanted to do was somewhat restricted by the ordinary frailties caused by almost a century of living. He lived in the moments God gave him, knowing others had it much worse than he did.

On the other hand, the grief I feel runs deep, measured by the tightness in my chest caused by this new hole in a heart already riddled with the scarred holes of those loved ones lost over time.

The last time Robin and I visited with my 97-year-old Dad in Amarillo and the last two times we spoke on the phone he talked about being tired. While there may have been real physical manifestations of fatigue, I suspect he meant something much different. I think he was ready to go whenever God was ready for him.

The doctors could not give us a medical reason for Dad’s death. In language that Dad would probably enjoy, I think his tractor just ran out of butane.

David, the Psalmist, might have diagnosed Dad’s situation more eloquently.

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:26)

Dad’s flesh and his heart failed. I’m confident, however, that he knew God as his portion and strength for eternity.

I believe it is God’s desire for us to live our lives as Christ lived his. To be Christlike in the things we say and do. To me and to many he touched through his life, Dad was a mirror image of Jesus. Paul described what being a reflection of Jesus looks like in his letter to the Galatians.

“But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” (Galatians 5:22-23)

In all I read in scripture, those words describe my Jesus. I look at that list and know my Dad exhibited that same fruit like he was working a spiritual farmer’s market. Those traits were on display in his life for all to see and share, offered without cost or expectation.

If you needed love, he gave it. Peace, he shared it. Patience, he extended it. Kindness, he showed it. Goodness, he breathed it. Faithfulness, he lived it. Gentleness, he exuded it. Self-control, he modeled a bushel of it.

I wrote an article about my Dad on Father’s Day a few years ago. Dad never liked being the center of attention and fussed at me lightheartedly for “writing his eulogy” before he was gone. It wasn’t intended as a eulogy, but under today’s circumstances, it seems to fit.

What follows below is an excerpt from that article. I’m cutting out the things that tell you what Dad did and leaving the part that tells you who he was. For that, I’ll simply remind you of the story Nathaniel, of one of Jesus’ disciples.

Nathaniel, born and raised in Cana in lower Galilee just a few miles from Nazareth, worked as a part-time fisherman and a full-time seeker of God’s truth. As Jesus began his ministry, Nathaniel followed the new rabbi for several weeks, listening to his teaching, probably sitting in the back row or on the edge of the crowd, getting his own measure of his teaching. He found Jesus’ conversations in the synagogue rich with meaning and purpose. The stories told to the multitudes penetrating…challenging the listener to think more deeply about God’s word. Nathaniel was intrigued by this carpenter from Nazareth.

On one particular day, Phillip, one of Jesus’ new disciples, grabbed Nathaniel’s arm with a sense of urgency and excitement. “Come and see,” he said. “We have found the one whom Moses wrote about and about whom the prophets also wrote. Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.”

Knowing the scripture as he did, Nathaniel had trouble believing that the promised one would come from Nazareth. Not yet knowing that Jesus was born in Bethlehem, he states as fact, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”

It was not a putdown as we have been made to believe through the years. He questioned because this “fact” didn’t align with scripture. When Phillip and Nathaniel approached, Jesus stood to greet him. With a smile and comment that conveyed immense respect, Jesus said, “Here is a true Israelite in whom there is nothing false.”

Whenever I think of that story and the high praise Jesus rained upon Nathaniel, I think of my Dad…My Dad is a true child of God in whom there is nothing false. While certainly not infallible, he lives his life with the utmost integrity. What you see is what you get. And you get a whole lot of good.

As a child growing up and an adult trying to find my own way in the world, Dad’s lifestyle laid out a set of undeclared expectations I still try to meet. He loved my Mom completely and with full devotion. That was a gift to his three children that he modeled each day. They endured good-natured ribbing, with a healthy dose of sarcasm, and laughed freely. Dad was her biggest supporter and she was his. His ability to love his wife and family openly was, and is, one of my greatest blessings in life.

Farming was not the easiest life to live. Dad would have supported any career path we chose, but we all knew his preference was for us to find another line of work. As a result, he raised a lawyer, a doctor and me. Dad instilled in all of us a serious work ethic, an attitude I see reflected in my brother and sister in the work they do. He worked hard and did what was necessary to support his family.

While we may not have had a lot of material things, we were never poor…in reality nor in spirit.

Dad spent long hours in the field, but he also knew how to rest. He understood that there was a time and place for everything. He learned how to leave the worries of work on the tractor and come home focused on his family. He could also put things beyond his control in proper perspective. If the crop was hailed out, he spent little time moaning about his bad luck and more time thinking about his next steps. This attitude toward life impacted me greatly.

Dad continues to teach me a great deal about our relationship to others. I don’t think I ever heard a prejudiced word escape my father’s lips. Given the time period in which he grew up, that’s pretty amazing. He taught all of us that a person’s worth is measured by who he is and not by what he looks lie. Worth, to Dad, is not measured by political preferences, religious beliefs or immigrant status. A person should be measured by how he lives each day, how he treats others, the value he adds to the world. To treat anyone differently is just wrong.

I watched Dad as I grew up. If he found himself in a fractured relationship for any reason, he did his best to set it right, even if it meant having difficult conversations. Most of the time, those conversations led to a deeper friendship or, at least a mutual, respectful understanding of the other’s position.

These things and so many others make my Dad a great man in my eyes. However, if you know my Dad or ever met him, it would not take long to understand that his relationship with God is his greatest gift to his family and friends.

If you look back to Nathaniel’s encounter with Jesus, you find Nathaniel stunned that Jesus used such kind words to describe him. “How do you know me?” asked Nathaniel. Jesus replied, “I saw you under the fig tree.” Sounds rather cryptic to us, but Bible scholars say it was not an uncommon occurrence for students of scripture to congregate under the trees, unroll a scroll to study and discuss God’s word. I like to think that Jesus was so aware of his surrounding that Nathaniel’s desire to know God more intimately did not go unnoticed by the savior.

After a long day at work, it was not uncommon to see Dad sitting in his recliner, studying his Sunday School lesson…His discussions and debates with my Mom about scripture were often lively and always deep. Just reading the words of the Bible at face value is not enough for Dad. He wants to find its core meaning and its common sense application. The Bible for Dad is not spiritual pabulum or an outline of denominational theology, it is a blueprint for practical daily living. Its message drives the way he lives and loves.

I read back through that study and see it written in present tense. It’s difficult to shift into past tense. Because his memory lives on, he will always be.

I could regale you with stories about my Dad in hopes that you could know him as I did, but I can think of nothing better than this. Dad was Nathaniel in my eyes…a man in whom there was nothing false. He was and will always be that man. Though it is probably a pale shadow, I sure hope you can see a little of him in me.

My uncle, Les, Dad’s brother, is a retired pastor and chaplain. He has a gift for words. In his recent blog about his grief at Dad’s death, he paraphrased Psalm 23. Maybe the language isn’t as poetic as David’s, but it’s written in the practical language of West Texas. I think Dad would have liked it. May it bring you the same comfort it brings me.

The Lord is like my shepherd; I really don’t need a thing. It’s like I’m walking in these green pastures among rippling streams. Maybe I should be afraid, but I’m not; God and I seem the same, and everything’s great. I am comfortable here. They’re setting a huge table and there’s a ceremony to welcome me: Me! Warts and all. I think I’m going to be just fine here. I feel only goodness and love in my soul. I live in the Lord’s house, and besides, I have an eternal contract. (Psalm 23)

That about sums it up. As Les added, “Resurrection boasts nothing good ever dies.”

I will rejoice for a life well lived.

I Can Do All This

Background Passages: Philippians 4:4-13

Richard Swenson, author of Contentment: The Secret to Lasting Calm, tells a story about his seven-year-old granddaughter who accidentally stepped in a pile of dog droppings with both tennis shoes. Together, she and her dad found a suitable stick, sat down on the curb and began scraping the mess from the treads of her shoes.

After a few minutes the little girl stopped. She looked at her Dad and then at the brown stuff now piled in the gutter. “You know, Dad,” she said. “This would be a very good meal for a dung beetle.”

Swenson pointed out that the contentment range of little children is a mile wide from end to end. He uses the term “joy beacons” to describe a child’s ability to always see the silver lining. He said, “The laughter from just one child is enough to lift a crowd of fifty. Where do they get this capacity…to make happy connections between a shoe full and the disgusting culinary habits of ugly beetles?”

Psychologists tell us that four-year-olds laugh 26 times a day more than adults. That fact alone makes it clear why Jesus would occasionally spent time with children in his lap and arms. I think the human side of him needed, at times, to be reminded that God gave our hearts an amazing capacity for delight and contentment, even in the most difficult of times. Children, God’s ambassadors to the cynic, find equal contentment, according to Swenson, “in a puddle or a pigeon, a worm or a waffle.”

It’s this idea of contentment that has been on my heart lately. When did we lose that sense of delight and contentment? More importantly, why do we lose it?

Richard Carlson, author of Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff, suggested that our discontent comes from external circumstances. “We tend to believe that if we were somewhere else—on vacation, with another partner, in a different career, a different home, a different circumstance, or if we could somehow go back to the good ol’ days—somehow we would be happier and more content.” Simply put, Carlson said, “We wouldn’t.”

Psychologists will gladly tell us how to find contentment. Some of their thoughts are helpful. Some are not. I think to find the truth about contentment requires a trip to a first century house prison in the middle of Rome.

As first century prisons go, this one wasn’t all that bad. Paul had certainly experienced worse. Acts 28 tells us the apostle found himself under house arrest, chained at times to a bored Roman guard. Because the judicial system of the time did not provide three square meals a day, the prisoner was forced to provide his own housing and support. Limited in his ability to ply his trade as a tentmaker, he had little to sustain his daily life. Most of what he had on which to survive came from money and supplies shared by his friends and followers.

The worst part of his confinement for Paul must have been the restrictions on his ability to share his faith. To do the work God had called him to do. He could have visitors and speak freely about his savior within the walls. He could not spend time in the synagogue or the local market talking about his favorite subject…Jesus. Though his reach was limited, God’s was not. Paul continued to open the hearts of those who heard his message.

Given all he had experienced that brought him to this place and all he experienced while locked behind four walls, one might think Paul struggled to find contentment. Apparently not.

While imprisoned, Paul wrote several letters to the churches he helped establish. One of those churches was in Philippi, a Roman city in Macedonia. It was a letter thanking them for their contribution of provisions and money to support him in his time under house arrest.

He wrote a couple of things in this letter that I have read all my life, but only connected when I read them again this week. (That’s the funny thing about scripture, the Holy Spirit will reveal truth you need to hear when you need to hear it.)

Read his words as one under house arrest.

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again. Rejoice!. Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:4-8)

That sounds more like a man sitting on the porch of his mountain cabin, sipping a nice diet coke, with his feet up on the rail, watching the squirrels jump around in the trees. It doesn’t sound like a man chained to a surly and sweating Roman guard.

Rejoice. Don’t be anxious about anything. In every situation and in all you need, pray with thankfulness. Find peace beyond the understanding of men…the kind of peace that sets at ease your troubled heart and worried mind.

You see, despite all he had been through that brought him to Rome…the unjust accusations of Jewish leadership back in Judea and the cowardice of the Roman authorities who knew his innocence…Paul still found himself waiting for a trial that could either set him free or hand him over to be killed. Yet, he says, rejoice. Don’t worry. Be at peace. Be content.

Easy to say, difficult to do, right? It seems counterintuitive when faced with an impending divorce. Life-altering injury or illness. Decisions over aging parents. Rebellious children. Financial loss. Angry neighbors. Death of a spouse. Social unrest.

How does one keep from shrinking into dark depression when encountering any single one of these conditions, much less when several seem to hit at once.

Paul gives us a clue, I think.

“Finally, dear brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me or seen in me—put it into practice and the God of peace will be with you.” (Philippians 4:8-9)

Perhaps the first step in finding contentment amid the garbage of life is to scrap it into the gutter and find the silver lining by concentrating on the noble, the right, the pure and admirable. To get our hearts and minds pointed at the things of God rather than the things that seem to be slapping us around. To find his presence and his peace in the blessings he lavishly provides to those who love him.

Paul found the blessing in the gifts sent by the Philippians. He felt it as he welcomed Epaphroditus as the bearer of the gifts and unwrapped the supplies that they sent to help sustain him. Like a care package of Mom’s chocolate chip cookies sent to a hungry soldier mired in an inhospitable foxhole. It was just what he needed to lift his spirits and remind him that he was not alone.

“I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is like to be in need and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. (Philippians 4:10-12)

Paul truly understood the ups and downs of life. His life as a Pharisee elevated his social standing and financial condition. He lived a life of relative luxury provided by his position as an up-and-coming religious leader. It all changed on the road to Damascus when he encountered the living Christ in a blinding blaze of light.

For the sake of Christ, Paul walked away from a life most others would envy to give himself to the work God called him to do. It was never easy. Paul once wrote the Christians in Corinth about all he had endured since committing his life to Christ.

If you read 2 Corinthians 11:22-29, you’ll find that Paul spent multiple times in prison and not always the house arrest kind. Five times he was given 39 lashes with a whip. He was beaten with sticks, pelted with stones, shipwrecked three times, and constantly on the move. He crossed raging rivers, faced bandits along the roads and the murderous threats from Jew and Gentile alike.

Paul faced danger in the city and in the country. On sea and on land. He had gone without sleep and known days of hunger and thirst. He was cold and naked. And amid the physical distress, he felt the daily pressure of his concern for the people in the churches he had founded…an overwhelming burden.

When you understand all Paul endured, it makes his words to the Philippians even more forceful. “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstance.”

Paul didn’t find contentment by trying to fix his circumstances, he found it by fixing his eyes on Jesus. By concentrating on living the life God had called him to do. By focusing on the noble, the right, the pure, the lovely and the admirable. In other words, by living a Christ-like life in all he did and all he said.

That’s difficult to do under the pressures and burdens we bear. Paul had a “secret” though. A secret he shared openly with the Philippians and with those of us for whom life has bound us to house arrest, limiting our ability to do the things we want to do.

“I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:13)

I’ve read this verse a thousand times, I bet. As I learned in the school business, though, first learning is hard to overcome. When I first learned this passage, it was in the language of King James.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

The message I heard from well-intentioned youth ministers and pastors was that God would empower me through his strength to do everything and anything I wanted to do. That’s the lesson that stuck for that verse. While there is a measure of truth in that thought, it has not been my experience. If that were so, I would have walked on the moon with Neil Armstrong like that childhood dream promised.

No. I don’t think that’s what Paul intended. When Paul says he can concentrate on the noble, the right and the pure; he can find contentment when he has plenty and when he has nothing; he can overcome every adverse circumstance of life. “I can do all of this,” Paul says, “through him who gives me strength.”

There is a difference in “I can do all things…” and “I can do all this…,” especially within the context of Paul’s life and most decidedly in the context of ours. The first seems more of a promise that our wildest dreams will be ours. The latter suggests that my ability to live well through the good and bad times of life depends on my ability to tap in and trust in the strength Christ provides.

We are incapable of dealing with everything that sticks to the bottom or our shoes within our restricted power and limited strength. However, we can fix our eyes on Jesus. Think like Jesus thought. Live like Jesus lived, facing every circumstance with the same grace with which Jesus faced the sin of the world.

Through the strength Christ provides through his word and his spirit, we will find that silver lining. We’ll find we can be content in all of this tough stuff with which we are dealing.

I truly don’t know how you define contentment. I only hope you find it in Christ. All other definitions are severely lacking.

Maybe the best starting point is to be thankful for the eternal presence of Jesus in your life. Dr. Toyin Omofoye is an author and clinical pharmacist. She said, “Contentment is realized when gratitude becomes a lifestyle.”

So, when you’re facing what you can’t fix on your own, be grateful that you can do all this…all that is required to make it through…because of the strength of Christ in you.

Amen?

Amen!

Grateful

Background Passage: Psalm 106:1

We approach the most joyous of holiday seasons from Thanksgiving to Christmas this year under the darkening shadow of Covid-19 as the long-promised fall surge in corona virus cases hits our nation with a vengeance.

We continue to endure a bitter political season that has fractured our country with seemingly no one willing to walk the higher ground. Suspicion invades our hearts, leaving our country teetering in its wake.

Many among us feel…

Isolated and alone.
Divided and angry.
Worried and scared.
Suspicious and accusing.
Pessimistic and hopeless.

That seems to be the condition of the world. I’m not so naive that I cannot see these issues or feel their impact around me. As a Christian, I am not immune to its gravity, but I refuse to let these events steal my joy.

I…we…have so much for which to be grateful even during this uncertain time for God’s gifts and grace transcend pandemic and politics. Surrounded by family, friends and God’s ever-present love, there is a place of peace even in the turmoil of the day. For such things, I am eternally grateful.

So, I remind myself in this week of Thanksgiving to take a deep breath and relax.

We use the term “overwhelmed” to express that feeling of being swamped by the circumstances around us. We rarely, if ever, talk about being simply “whelmed.”

Yes, it’s a word defined in Webster’s Dictionary as “an act or instance of flowing or heaping up abundantly; a surge.”

Rather than feeling overwhelmed, I want us to feel whelmed…to feel a surge of thanksgiving as we reflect on the blessings of life granted by a loving God.

I cannot speak to those things for which you could be grateful. You alone can do that.

As I sit in the quiet of this moment, I am thankful for my parents, my brother and sister, my wife, my two sons and their wives, and my grandchildren. I am grateful for an extended family of “laws and in-laws” who have forever accepted me for who I am. I am grateful for love given and love received.

I am grateful for friends from childhood to present day who, even today, continue to create and share in the best moments of my life.

I am grateful for God’s gift of this community as a place of service and belonging. A people who let me serve and who served me in my times of need.

I am grateful for a church who for four decades has been my spiritual foundation, filled with fellow imperfects who love each other into a more perfect understanding of God’s grace and peace. A people who know their responsibility to be the face, the hands and feet of Christ not just within the walls of the church, but in the city, state, country and world beyond.

I am grateful to my God who saved me and loves me in spite of myself. Whose presence brings healing and comfort to every hurt and need in my life. Whose blessings and grace deepen the joy I feel in my connections and relationships with those I encounter. Whose spirit continues to open my eyes to the vitality of his word.

A host of scripture speaks to our need to express thankfulness to our God. Here are a couple of my favorites.

“Oh, give thanks to the Lord for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever.” (Psalm 106:1)

The language of the psalm is an imperative, a command. To the believer loved by God, the call to thanksgiving is not an option. Thankfulness ought to be our natural response as recipients of God’s unmerited favor.

We respond with thankfulness because of God’s goodness. Our limited understanding of goodness, tempered as it is through our lens of sin, is a pale facsimile of goodness that is truly in God. Jesus told us as much in Luke 18:19 when he told the rich, young ruler, “no one is good, except God alone.”

To declare that God is good is to know with certainty that his every word and act is always true and right. It is his goodness that offers redemption to a sinful world…the ultimate act of goodness through the sacrifice of his own son.

When you read “steadfast,” think resolute, unwavering. God’s love never fails. Never abandons. Never falters. Never withdraws.

God’s love always provides. Always sustains. Always nurtures. Always remains. Always embraces. Always comforts. Always endures.

Thanksgiving is a good day to remember. If you dig deeper in Psalm 106, you find that the people of God lost their way when they failed to remember what God had done for them.

“…they did not remember your many kindnesses…” (vs. 7)
“…they soon forgot what he had done…” (vs 13)
“…they forgot the God who saved them…” (vs. 21)

I don’t ever want to be guilty of their forgetfulness. I think that’s why the Psalmist makes his statement in the form of a command, “Give thanks…,” as an on-going directive to always remember what God has done for us.

We are a forgetful people with short-term memories and a “what have you done for me lately” mentality. Thanksgiving is remembering in gratitude a God who does not forget his people nor his promises.

Those people I mentioned earlier, the ones for whom I expressed my gratitude, they came into my life sent by God to be a part of my life. They have been before and beside me the face and hands of his steadfast love and his unfathomable goodness all the days of my life.

I am eternally grateful.

Thank you, God.

Dancing with God

Background Passages: John 10:10; Psalm 116:13-14, Deuteronomy 30:19-20; Psalm 30:11

Have you ever noticed how you can find connections in random things? I read four seemingly unrelated things this week and found a connection I’d like to share. I hope it make sense when I put it on paper. Let’s play connect the dots

Dot One

As a part of my devotional studies this week I read a passage out of John. It is a lengthy story that is a part of the “I am…” statements of Jesus.

The man, blind since birth, dipped his hands into the Pool of Siloam as he was instructed, carefully washing the mud ball from his eyes. After he had done so, “the man went home seeing.” His rejoicing captured the attention of friends, neighbors and Pharisees. Because it was the Sabbath, a quick investigation ensued, leading the religious elite to Jesus. After a bit of verbal wrangling, Jesus explained to them…

“I have come that they might have life and have it abundantly.”

John 10:10 is one of my favorite verses, hinting at a life Jesus promises all who put their faith and trust in him. It’s hard to explain that concept to one who doesn’t believe in Christ. When we try to live life on our own it is easy to get disillusioned and disoriented. The chaos that confronts us at every turn saps the life right out of us.

Life with Christ, on the other hand, becomes worth the pain of living. Our relationship to Christ brings with it the possibility of a new joy, a new vitality, in the face of life’s troubles…if we embrace it.

Hang on to that thought.

Dot Two

My uncle, the Rev. Leslie Lewis, is the pastor of a Lutheran church in a farming community near Lubbock. One of his published devotional thoughts this week talked about taking up the cup of salvation as described by the songwriter in Psalm 116.

Leslie wrote about taking up the cup. “That’s the nature of relationship. All we can do is take the cup. The cup being life, with all its circumstances as it comes to us. For God comes to us as our life.”

Think about that for a second. “God comes to us as our life.” Life is messy, isn’t it? Disordered? Chaotic? God with us amid the chaos.

We find ourselves in a global pandemic, restricted in what we can do and where we can go. Unable to reach out and touch those we love. Even in the middle of something as broad as this, the other burdens of living don’t go away. Fractured relationships. Missing paychecks. Poor decisions. Sickness. Misunderstandings. Life easily becomes unbearable and disorienting if we let it. It is relentless in its attack. Each day brings new burdens to face. Doesn’t sound all that abundant, does it?

Leslie continued, “Sometimes we see life coming at us and are tempted to pray as our lord did, ‘If it be possible let this cup pass from me.’ But the relationship with life demands we take the cup…take responsibility for what is coming to/at us. A loving relationship with God is no more than willingly accepting the cup; the person, the circumstance of life as an invitation to dance with God.”

I love that! “An invitation to dance with God.” Abundant living is not the absence of all the issues that life throws at us for this life we’ve been given to live is both beautiful and ugly at the same time. Nor is it hiding ourselves behind a veil of religiosity.

Leslie shared that we Christians tend to hide behind pious platitudes, made empty because we don’t live the truth buried deeply inside them. “God is in control.” “God will never give us more than we can handle.” When life has us in its talons, our heart is not in them. We live on the surface of our faith, not in its depths. Hide behind the curtain of pious living.

Jesus later said as much to the Pharisees.

“You hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. First, clean the inside…” (Matthew 23:25-26)

Taking up the cup means embracing all that life holds and finding a way to dance our way through it with the Father. Leslie added, “Life is not for sissies. Those who only want to play it safe will never know the riches of his love.” Never know what it means to live the abundant life.

Hold on to this dot and let me take you to another.

Dot Three

I picked up a book this week from my personal library which I have not read in more than 45 years. Dancing at My Funeral, written by Maxine Dunnam in 1973, is about the joy that comes in the present from living an authentic, Christ-filled life.

In her book, Dunnam argues that the thirst for real life is as old as creation itself. That God built within us the desire to experience life at its fullest…in abundance. In Deuteronomy, God, through Moses, tells the Hebrew people…

“I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now, choose life so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life…” (Deuteronomy 30:19-20)

Dunnam writes, “Here ‘life’ and ‘death’ don’t signify ‘existence’ and ‘nonexistence.’ Rather, they hold a promise that existence can be enriched and thereby become real life.” Authentic life. Abundant life. “You can have a dead life or a real life—one that is lived in confidence, hope and gratitude.” And, if we’re truthful, we’ve all known Christians who were the “walking dead,” those who allowed life to suck the joy out of their relationship to God. That’s not what God intended.

Like my uncle, Dunnam argues that Christians tend to cloister behind the walls of the church or wrap ourselves in the cloak of spirituality to avoid the hazards of the world. Dunnam says real life is not in the avoidance of problems, but in our dynamic relationship to God. Staying connected to him while facing the world as it comes and ministering through the problems and the pitfalls. Abundant life is God’s gift in the middle of the messiness of life.

God offers us the same as he offered the Hebrew children. Choose life! Choose abundance!

Dot Four

Real and abundant life is an experience. The work of God is making us real. In the story of the Velveteen Rabbit, written by Margery Williams, the worried rabbit is told by the wise old Skin Horse that it takes a long time to become real.

“It doesn’t happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully made. Generally, by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

God’s call to abundant living is a call to love and serve others. Those acts of service will often leave us with hair loved off, eyes dropped out and a little loose in the joints. You may look ugly in the sight of the world, but they don’t understand. God loves our mangy, bug-eyed shabbiness that comes from an abundant life of sacrifice.

Connect the dots

What does abundant life mean to me? It means desiring the fullness of life that only a relationship with God can provide. Willingly serving and loving others. It means embracing our cup…this life…as it comes with all its joy and despair…all its turmoil and tests…all its passion and grace. It means to choose this life…to love God, to listen to his words and hold tightly to him at all times. It means living a real, authentic faith evidenced by a cup as clean on the inside as it is on the outside. It means full joy and contentment in a relationship with a loving Father.

It means dancing with God.

“You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have loosened my sackcloth and girded me with gladness.: (Psalm 30:11)

It’s So Very Good

Background Passages: Genesis 1:1-2:3

Most of you know I grew up on a farm near Ropesville, Texas. Small town. Great people. The South Plains equivalent to Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon “where all the women are strong, all the men good looking and all the children are above average.”

Growing up on that flat and treeless farmland on the South Plains of Texas provided endless vistas. The old joke says that in that part of the state you can watch your dog run away from home for three days. The horizon stretches forever in every direction.

That area of Texas has a desolate beauty all its own. You may have to live there for a bit to understand it, but it is a unique part of God’s creation.

That didn’t keep me from dreaming of far off places as I sat in Mr. Wallace’s sixth grade geography class. I saw pictures of places and things around the world I never thought I would see.

Decades have passed and I’ve been blessed to see many of those distant places in our travels. I am drawn to the wonder and beauty of God’s creation.

This week Robin and I are in the Canadian Rockies seeing yet another marvelous work of the Creator’s hand. While staring at the glow of a universe of galaxies and stars above Banff, it’s humbling to think these are the same stars and galaxies at which I stared as a child in the darkest nights out on our farm in West Texas.

Then, in the awestruck quietness of the evening, I recalled these words:

“In the beginning God created…”

Hear in those words the majesty and glory of a God so powerful he spoke the universe I see into being.

“In the beginning God created…” Please don’t make this a flashpoint for a bitter debate between a literal week in history or evolutionary process, spanning billions of years. Consider it simply man’s best effort to comprehend the incomprehensible. How he did it matters little. Why he did it pulses with eternal consequence.

In the beginning, God created a universe to open the possibility that you and I might freely decide to join him in relationship. Everything around us designed to focus our attention on him…to provide for our physical, emotional, social and spiritual well-being.

I’ve been reminded of the grandeur of God’s creation and my connection to him on a personal level. Felt him the mist of the waterfalls. Seen him in the deep forests and high meadows. Touched him as I dipped my hand in the pristine waters. Marveled at his majesty mirrored in his high mountains. An explosion of the senses.

Everything I’ve seen this week draws me to Genesis. Allows me to give thanks for God’s creation. To give thanks for giving me this life I’ve lived…and the one to come.

I am drawn to Genesis…to the beginning of his love for me.

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.

And God said, “Let there be a vault between the waters to separate water from water.” So God made the vault and separated the water under the vault from the water above it. And it was so. God called the vault “sky.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the second day.

And God said, “Let the water under the sky be gathered to one place, and let dry ground appear.” And it was so. God called the dry ground “land,” and the gathered waters he called “seas.” And God saw that it was good. Then God said, “Let the land produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds.” And it was so. The land produced vegetation: plants bearing seed according to their kinds and trees bearing fruit with seed in it according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the third day.

And God said, “Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years, and let them be lights in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth.” And it was so. God made two great lights—the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night. He also made the stars. God set them in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth, to govern the day and the night, and to separate light from darkness. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the fourth day.

And God said, “Let the water teem with living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the vault of the sky.” So, God created the great creatures of the sea and every living thing with which the water teems and that moves about in it, according to their kinds, and every winged bird according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. God blessed them and said, “Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the water in the seas, and let the birds increase on the earth.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the fifth day.

And God said, “Let the land produce living creatures according to their kinds: the livestock, the creatures that move along the ground, and the wild animals, each according to its kind.” And it was so. God made the wild animals according to their kinds, the livestock according to their kinds, and all the creatures that move along the ground according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good.

Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.” So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.

God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”

Then God said, “I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food. And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food.” And it was so.

God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day.

Thus, the heavens and the earth were completed in all their vast array. By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so, on the seventh day he rested from all his work. Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.

What I see around me shouts to the existence of a Creator God who dragged his finger lightly across the landscape to carve the valleys and uplift the mountains I see around me.

I am eternally grateful for the beauty of the world around me. And, the amazing thing is, he did it all for me…and for you. I sit tonight staring at the stars reflecting on all I have seen today. I have to agree with his initial assessment.

It is good.

So very good.

Drinking from Wells I Did Not Dig

Background Passage: Deuteronomy 6:10-12

I came across rather obscure a passage of scripture this week while looking for the focus of my writing. I read it…and moved on, searching for something different. No matter what I read and studied this week, that passage kept invading my thoughts.

In this passage in Deuteronomy, Moses has just wrapped his arms around the stone tablets upon which were etched God’s commands for his people. The list of “thou shalt” and “thou shalt nots” intended as a framework of righteous relationship with the Father and with his people.

Moses reminded them of the great promise of God to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob to give them a land that would belong to them…a land flowing with milk and honey. Then, he encouraged them to claim that promise as their own. The land God promised, according to Moses, held within it everything they needed in life. God would grant them…

“…cities you did not build, good things you did not provide, wells you did not dig, and vineyards and olive groves you did not plant…”

Every time I tried to move away from the passage, I found myself back in Deuteronomy thinking about how the people of Israel would drink from wells they did not dig. Every time I thought about it, I thought about how often I have quenched my thirst for God from wells I did not dig.

I found my first taste of God’s well water from loving parents and a family who made faith a priority. From that little Baptist church in Ropesville where I grew up and a bevy of Sunday School teachers who shared their hearts and souls. From a Baptist Student Union at Texas Tech that served as a cistern of Christian friends who met my needs for fruitful fellowship. From a time serving as a youth minister in Wolfforth where God taught me more than I taught the young people I served.

I drank again from wells I did not dig from a marriage partner whose life is Jesus personified. From children who have matured in their own faith as an encouragement to mine. To a home church in Pasadena with pastors and friends who invested in my life, shaping my witness and my service. To a profession in public education that opened as a calling to help those in need. To a life in which every moment is a testament of God’s grace, forgiveness and purpose.

In each moment, I drank from wells I did not dig. I am grateful for each time I drew water from those wells.

After reminding his people of God’s unmerited gifts that awaited them in the promised land, Moses added a warning.

“…then, when you drink and are satisfied, be careful that you do not forget the Lord who brought you out of Egypt…”

There it is. The reason this passage kept creeping back into my heart. God placed so many people…so many wonderful opportunities…in my life that allowed me to drink and be satisfied. Too often I forget how hard it must have been for those in my life to dig that well. I forget how God’s hand moved in my life so I found every well when when I needed it most.

The living water God promised through his son, Jesus, flowed through the lives of all these people who offered me encouragement, support, discipline, wisdom, hope and love. The clearest, coolest water I have ever had the privilege to drink…and it was all from wells I did not dig.

I sit here today having lived in cities I did not build, enjoying good things I did not produce, drinking for wells I did not dig and eating from vineyards and groves I did not plant. The promised land God gave me.

To all who offered me a taste of their water, thank you. I offer praise to God who provided your shovel and showed you where to dig.

With Gratitude to the Giver

Background Passage: 2 Corinthians 4:15; Psalm 9:1

I sat in the audience of my grandson Eli’s second grade Thanksgiving program at Turner Elementary School with my cellphone camera on record. The children, dressed in traditional Pilgrim suits made of construction paper and colored with crayons, shared the history of that first Thanksgiving feast among the Pilgrims and Native Americans. They recited their parts and sang a couple of cute songs. Eli, my oldest grandson, nailed the closing speech without stumbling over a single word, making his parents, his little brother and his grandpa quite proud.

The Thanksgiving story they shared with their parents had changed little from the somewhat sanitized version of that first Pilgrim settlement my classmates and I told our parents 58 years ago. No matter. The songs sounded delightful. The kids looked cute. Their excitement more than a little infectious.

One of the songs they sang struck a chord with me. A catchy tune to be sure, filled with expressions of thanks for things young children enjoy…recess, summer, friends, family, etc. It wasn’t so much the things for which they shouted their thanks that made me think. It was the question posed repeatedly within the song. “What are you grateful for?” We won’t quibble with the prepositional grammar. That’s not the point. The use of the word “grateful” rather than “thankful” caught my attention, making me think about the difference in these words we often view as synonymous.

Why is that distinction important to me? Gratitude seems to hold deeper meaning than mere thanks. I can say thank you to someone who opens a door for me when carrying a heavy box. I can express thanks to a friend who gives me a birthday card. I can express my thanks to the cashier at the checkout stand when they give back my change. Though they may be sincere in expression, they are far more often mannerly responses to ordinary acts.

Gratitude, on the other hand suggests a deeper feeling of inner delight that rises unforced from the heart. Not a verbal response, but an emotional outpouring. Gratitude is the feeling of joy that rises in one’s heart when thinking about the giver, not the gift. The doer, not the deed. The actor, not the act.

The apostle Paul, under the inspiration of the Spirit, chose his words carefully…always. I sometimes think those who translated the original scripture into the various translations of the Bible available to us today were less careful, choosing words that fit more readily into the common vernacular of their intended reader.

Paul wrote his second letter to the Corinthian church and spoke of the difficulties faced in presenting the gospel in a hostile world, giving God the glory for every inch of progress made in spreading the gospel of Christ. Paul spoke of his willingness to suffer and the future hope he had in Christ.

“All of this (suffering and effort) is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God.” (2 Cor. 4:15)

I’m not a Bible scholar learned in Greek. Any insight I have into the scripture, especially as it makes distinctions in the choice of Greek words, is a gift from commentaries and commentators more gifted than I will ever be.

It seems in this passage, the translator’s use of the word thanksgiving missed the mark, the unique play on words, that Paul originally expressed. The Greek word for grace is charis. The Greek word for thanksgiving used in this passage is eucharistian, derived from charis or grace. Eucharistian is often translated gratitude. So Paul essentially says, “so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause gratitude to overflow to the glory of God.”

In other words, gratitude grows best in the garden of God’s grace…a direct response to the unmerited gifts from the Father…the feeling of inner joy you hold for one who has graciously given to you.

In Paul’s passage to the Corinthians, Paul knows that as God’s grace draws more and more people to him, those who now recognize themselves as recipients of God’s grace have joy swelled up in their hearts toward the one who extended grace to them. A cycle of grace and gratitude born from God’s extended grace to us that circles back to cause our own heart to jump for joy and gratitude toward the one who was so gracious to us.

So here’s the point I’m probably not making very well. It’s Thanksgiving. During this holiday we take ample opportunity to offer thanks to God for those things in which we delight. Family. Friends. Health. Work. Community. Freedom. Smiles. Laughter. Memories. Hands to hold. Perhaps we find ourselves thankful even for recess and summer. These are among the many blessings for which we give thanks.

Care must be taken that our thanks do not end with the gift. Care must be taken to express our heart-felt gratitude to the giver of all of these blessings. The one who graced us with these life gifts. The God whose grace and gifts are sufficient in every way.

Paul said as the gospel of Christ spreads throughout the world that it causes “gratitude to overflow to the glory of God.” God’s greatest gift of grace through his son, Jesus Christ, causes our gratitude to overflow and glorify God. I like that idea and think it offers great insight into the true nature of Thanksgiving. Our gratitude for the blessing of Christ in our lives, the blessings he gifts us with in life, still must overflow to the glory of God.

So, I’ll ask the question that Eli and his classmates asked, “What are you grateful for?”

When you answer, join me and let your gratitude extend beyond the gifts. Let your gratitude glorify God as the giver of every blessing.

“I will give thanks to you, Lord, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonderful deeds.” (Psalm 9:1)

How Can I Keep From Singing

Background Passage: Psalm 59:16-17

The hectic nature of life the week brings about a short post. I’m currently with a small group of people from my church this week on a mission trip to Collique, Peru, to build more permanent shelters for some of the families in this impoverished community tucked in the hills northeast of Lima. These are not houses as you and I understand them, but they are homes for families with little more than a roof above their heads.

This is just my second year to participate. Like the others in my group, most of whom have made this trip multiple times, I end each day amazed at how little these wonderful people have and great their joy in comparison.

Their smiles and their constant expressions of gratitude transcend the language barriers and cultural differences between us, serving as a dynamic testimony to the power of Christ to fill a heart with joy. Theirs is a faith that truly sustains through every circumstance.

For me, and I’m certain for others in our group, it is a teachable moment. These people with whom we’ve been blessed to work this week have so little. We have so much. They endure though faced with a life we can scarcely imagine. We need to remember…no, I need to remember…that despite the turmoil I feel at times, God gives me voice to declare my love for him. Our relationship with God should enable us to sing when others…lost without him…can’t hear a note.

British vocalist James Loynes recently recorded a beautiful song written by Robert Lowry, a 19th century Baptist minister and composer. The melody and words resonate on every level. The final stanza offers this word.

The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing.
All things are mine since I am his,
How can I keep from singing?

Listen to the video. Hear the gentle reminder. How can you keep from singing?

Wonderfully Made…For a Purpose

Background Passage: Psalm 139

The brightest minds in Greek and Roman worlds for centuries before and after the time of Christ believed human wisdom, emotion, memory and thought centered in the heart, not the brain. Ancient ideas of physiology and psychology told them that God spoke through the heart; that within the heart lived the essence of man’s soul. They believed the brain was an internal radiator that simply cooled the blood as it circulated through the body.

Influenced by these cultures, the ancient Hebrews understood that the core of who and what they were was centered in the heart. In other words, like the ancient Greeks, they believed the heart was the focus of all rational thought and emotion. So unimportant was the brain in Hebrew thinking that the word is never recorded in scripture…not once.

Scientifically, we know the ancients were wrong. We continue to learn more about the brain as the depth of scientific research grows into the complex role it plays in our how we think, feel and learn. Though we know better, we still speak of “feeling” and “thinking” with our hearts, a metaphorical echo of scientific error relegated to the pages of history.

The human brain functions as one of God’s most marvelous creations, yet only in the past 150 years have scientists and physicians made serious efforts to understand how it works. In 1861, French physician Pierre Paul Broca discovered that small region of the left frontal lobe of the brain controls our ability to speak. In subsequent studies since that time, scientists have identified 83 specific areas of the brain that activate when we recognize a face, read a book, think about a specific memory or do certain types of physical work.

Neuroscientists at the University of Washington recently published a new map of the brain, revealing more than 97 previously unknown regions of the brain to add to the 83 areas already familiar to today’s scientists.

A Stanford University study recently used a new imaging technique called array tomography to look more closely at the brain’s neurons and synapses. The data collected produced a three-dimensional picture of these tiny cell connections. The images indicate that the number of synapses in the brain exceed the number of estimated stars in 1,500 Milky Way galaxies combined, making the brain far more complex that previously understood.

These new discoveries caused a few of my own synapses to make a few new connections. I thought of Psalms 139. The Psalmist, in his praise of God, wrote beautiful lyrics about his creative work.

“For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.”

We are God’s creation. Whether we developed through an evolutionary process or appeared in a molding of clay and bone is really immaterial to me. Neither view changes my understanding of God as Creator. To focus on that debate misses the point of my personal relationship to him. That he gave me this marvelous brain that thinks, acts, reasons, chooses, understands and loves is an amazing gift that governs my relationships to my God and to others. That he gave me the ability to grasp the concept of faith in him is grace in full measure.

That thought led to another. My son and his wife, Melissa, are expecting their second child in December. They have named her Amelia Diane. We saw another ultrasound of her yesterday. Even now as her body is developing inside the womb, God knows her and all she will become. The Psalmist explored that idea, also.

“Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.”

I think of these things not to get into a debate on abortion and the definition of when life starts. Rather, I stand amazed that God already knows my granddaughter. That a God-ordained, perfect plan already exists for her life. That the only things standing in the way of that life are the choices she makes and the positive influence brought to bear through the unconditional love of her Christian parents and all of those who enter her life.

Her intricate and incomparable brain will be imprinted with her God-given uniqueness etched throughout its gray matter. The life he plans for her will unfold as it is imparted by her parents, instructed by gifted teachers at church and at school, and inspired by the love of family and friends that desire only the best for her.

One final thought occurred to me as I read again this familiar scripture. Intellectually, I know our brains, not our hearts, make us who we are. Yet, we must continue to lean upon the understanding of the ancients, like the Psalmist, to express our desire to be all that God wants us to be.

He planted a seed in all of us that longs for a Father. As we allow that seed to grow, God guides our lives through every trial, test and temptation. The seed, that free-will choice of heart and head–creates purpose. We uncover our purpose in God when we honestly seek him and genuinely desire to walk the path he sets out for us. As the Psalmist sang,

“Search me, God and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me.
Lead me in the way everlasting.”

Orcas, Octonauts and Walruses

The list of things for which my grandsons are thankful circle the stem of their Thanksgiving pumpkin, spiraling down its side, one thought after another. As you read the list, you find what you would expect to find…Mommy, Daddy, family, boats, planes, doctors, tents, trains, specific toys and Ashley, the “kid-sitter…” because at four and two years of age, respectively, Eli and Josiah do not require a “baby-sitter.”

While most of their gratitude points to ordinary things that might appear on any child’s list, three things stand out…orcas, Octonauts and walruses. Intriguing sea creatures and a cartoon. I doubt any of those three would have made my prayer list.

Their Thanksgiving pumpkin, a family tradition designed to instill a sense of gratefulness to God for his many blessings, reminds me that I frequently take so much for granted. The innocence of children tends to see everything around them as a gift, worthy of the time it takes to say thank you to a God they are only beginning to understand.

As adults we grow jaded to the gifts around us. Preoccupied. Caught up in the chaos of our own choosing. Taking precious little time to think about the orcas, the Octonauts and the walruses. My grandchildren reminded me that the world is full of wonder and worthy of my gratitude.

I am thankful for all God has given me. That which I can touch and that which I can only feel. I have lived a charmed and blessed life, filled with people who love me and whom I love. I am blessed by God in the life He led me to and the life He has planned for me. I am grateful to God for every stroke of His hand that guided me through the choices I have made. I am thankful for the joy of experiencing what can be when you give your life to Him.

“Thankful,” a song written by David Foster and Carole Bayer Sager, and sung by Josh Grobin, speaks plainly to that point.

In preparation for Thanksgiving Day, I share with you the lyrics and the link to a beautiful song. Read the lyrics and listen as the song is sung.

Some days we forget
To look around us
Some days we can’t see
The joy that surrounds us
So caught up inside ourselves
We take when we should give.

So for tonight we pray for
What we know can be.
And on this day we hope for
What we still can’t see.
It’s up to us to be the change
And even though we all can still do more
There’s so much to be thankful for.

Look beyond ourselves
There’s so much sorrow
It’s way too late to say
I’ll cry tomorrow
Each of us must find our truth
It’s so long overdue

So for tonight we pray for
What we know can be
And every day we hope for
What we still can’t see
It’s up to us to be the change
And even though we all can still do more
There’s so much to be thankful for.

Even with our differences
There is a place we’re all connected
Each of us can find each other’s light

So for tonight we pray for
What we know can be
And on this day we hope for
What we still can’t see
It’s up to us to be the change
And even though this world needs so much more

There is so much to be thankful for.

As you celebrate Thanksgiving this week, express your gratitude for the orcas, Octonauts and the walruses. And remember, while the world needs so much of His grace, there is still “so much to be thankful for.”

Click on the link below to see the video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yoygmylt2iM

Source: The Searcher